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53,002 | 1,436 | 13 | 1,942 | 459 | Tommy Lomax
Location: Old Harbour, Morning
Tommy awoke to the gentle rock of the waves, having long ago dispensed with the need for alarms, the waves tended to be how Tommy woke up most mornings. Blinking the sleep from his eyes he could see the early dawn sunlight beaming through the port side windows. Getting out of bed Tommy began moving through his morning routine. Checking his phone, turning on his Keurig Mini, grabbing himself a towl, and hopping in the shower. After a quick shower Tommy dressed himself in his usual attire, a pair of dark slacks coupled with a white button-up, a black suit jacket and a pair of black oxfords. Afterwards it was just a matter of grabbing his coffee, keys, and cane, something Tommy didn’t leave home without anymore, before he disembarked from his home and made his way to the parking lot just east of the pier. Sliding behind the wheel of his Continental he turned the engine and the car purred to life. Pulling the car out of the parking lot Tommy set course for The Coffee Pot, where he would continue his morning routine with a hot breakfast and an additional two or more cups of coffee.
Location: The Coffee Pot, Morning
A short drive later and Tommy could be found in his usual spot at The Coffee Pot. This too was part of his morning routine, he had become something of a regular at The Coffee Pot. Sitting at his usual seat, in the back, it wasn’t hard to observe the other patrons on this Sunday morning. Watching other patrons come and go had become something of a habit for the retired athlete, and today was not different. This morning the café was frequented by a couple other regulars that Tommy recognized by face if not name as well as some faces that he did not recognize, including that of an overly exhausted student. Had it not been a Sunday, an early day for Footsteps, he might have been tempted to strike up a conversation with just about any of the patrons. However as it was nine weeks into the NFL season and an away game for the Icarus Angels, Footsteps beckoned and Tommy had to answer.
Location: Footsteps Sports Bar, Morning
Pulling into the employee lot behind Footsteps, Tommy’s watch read 9:38 A.M., just early enough to make sure the bar was open on time. Tommy wasn’t really needed to oversee Footsteps, he had hired a more than competent cooks and wait staff, but the intent behind opening the bar had been to disrupt the monotony of retired life and letting others run it just didn’t contribute to that plan. So Tommy had made it his own personal duty to be there when Footsteps opened and when Footsteps closed as often as possible but with today being an away game for the hometown meant a higher flow of business and so Tommmy decided that he'd be spending most of this Sunday at the bar.
Using the back entrance led Tommy directly into the kitchen where Ted, one of the two cooks at Footsteps, was already hard at work prepping for the day. Tommy gave the cook a curt nod and smile as way of greeting, which was returned almost instantly. Ted wasn’t much of morning person so the Saturday and Sunday shifts typically meant that conversation was a no go until later in the day. From the kitchen Tommy moved out into the dining area where three other members of the staff were getting things set for the day. Exchanging brief pleasantries with each Tommy also set to work checking the register and making sure everything was stocked before at three minutes ‘till 10 unlocking the front door and turning the outside lights on. | Name: Thomas “Tommy” Lomax
Age: 28, birthday February 17th, 1989
Unlike the image Tommy is not tattooed but the outfit shown does reflect Tommy’s typical day to day dress, except for when exercising or relaxing home in which case he is much more likely to be found in a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. Additionally Tommy typically has a day or two worth of stubble before he shaves it.
Height: 73 inches (185cm)
Weight: 192lbs (87kg)
Likes:
-Football
-Smoking
-Boating
-Fishing
-Drinking
-Coffee
-Breakfast/Brunch
-Mornings
-Cats/Dogs
-Rock/Alt Rock
Dislikes:
-Reminiscing on his “glory days”
-Inactivity
-Fancy drinks (pretty much anything with more than two or three ingredients)
-Being pitied
-Rain
-Owning pets
-Being the center of attention
-Country music
Zodiac Sign: Aquarius
Special Talent: Despite not playing in the last four years Tommy still has one hell of an arm. Additionally he can make some pretty solid mixed drinks.
Profession: Bartender/Owner
Bio/Personality:
It’s not a common event the birth of a star but that’s what the 17th of February 1989 marked. Thomas Lomax was the dream; quarterback of his high school football team, state champions all four years, a two time All-American, homecoming king--- he had it all. And life stayed that way for Thomas as he started university at Ohio State on an athletic scholarship. Tommy spent his first year at OSU mainly riding the bench, learning from the coaches and other players, his second year though saw him take the field as the first string quarterback where he proceeded to lead OSU to a conference championship. By this time the name Thomas Lomax was already making ripples in the professional community so it was to no real surprise that after Tommy followed the conference championship up with a national title that he was offered a spot in the NFL. In the 2011 NFL draft Thomas Lomax ended up a first round draft pick for the Sol City Icarus Angels. Dropping out of school Tommy relocated from the midwest to Sol City and began his training with the Angels. Tommy’s rookie year was a record breaking one in which he lead the Angels to the NFC championship, where they unfortunately lost. Going into his second year it was a similar story except in which the way it ended. The dawn of the 20th of January 2013 saw The Icarus Angels once again finding themselves competing in the NFC championship, once more playing for a spot at the Super Bowl. The game came down to the wire, it was a game that was decided by a matter seconds not a matter of points. However for Thomas Lomax it was a game with a life defining second. In the fourth quarter during the Angels’ last drive downfield Lomax took a nasty hit that shut down the dreams of the Sol City Icarus Angels and shattered the knee of their star quarterback. And so it was that the 20th of January 2013 marked the falling of a star.
With a shattered knee Thomas found himself back in small town Ohio, staying with his parents while waiting for the knee to heal. The small town was suffocating after the last two years in Sol City and it was only made worse by the constant pity he felt from those around him. Once he was back on his feet, more literally than figuratively, Tommy made the decision to permanently make the move back to Sol City. Thanks to the size of the city Tommy could almost start over. People recognized him from time to time, and some of them still pitied him but it wasn’t the constant it had been in Ohio. Despite the tragically short career Tommy had had with the Icarus Angels he had still made a small fortune, roughly eight million between his signing bonus and the payout for his two years. In all reality it meant that Thomas was set for life and could feasibly enjoy a very young retirement. And this is what Tommy spent the next year doing. However, as is oft the case, retirement didn’t suite Tommy well. A sedentary life was just not one that clicked with the former All-American.
Trying to find something to occupy his days as a retiree Tommy didn’t take long to settle on the idea of a sports bar. It made some level of sense, it was something to do that required near daily oversight and wasn’t liable to become too boring too quickly--- plus it also capitalized on his local fame. And so Footsteps Sports Bar was born. Since opening the bar in 2014 it has become somewhat of a go to spot for sports fans in the area.
Other than the running of a sports bar, which does take up quite a bit of time. Tommy supplements his semi-retired life style with as much exercise as he can manage however due to his knee injury this isn’t always possible, in fact sometimes, on bad days, Tommy has to use a cane to get around.
Your character's favorite song: Zip-Lock by Lit
Tell us about yourself:
*Your age: 23
*What part of the world are you from? The great nothingness of Midwest, United States (central standard time).
*How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: I joined the guild in 2012, the year of Guildfall however I’ve been playing tabletop roleplaying games since 2006-2007 so total about ten years of roleplay experience. To be honest I have been on a rather long break from the Guild until very recently (roughly 2 years or so).
*How often do you have time to post? Right now I’m pretty much free whenever, and can post once every day or two. However I am getting ready to move in the next few weeks which will probably slow down my ability to get posts up, I won’t disappear though as I do most of my roleplaying through my phone.
*Misc.
Outside of roleplaying my primary hobbies revolve around attending concerts, playing Magic the Gathering and keeping up with wrestling and the numerous podcasts I follow. |
53,003 | 1,436 | 14 | 1,998 | 752 | Kei Kinzo
Kei Quietly took sips from his mixed drink, he felt the warmth of the alcohol wash over his whole body, and the carbination from the coke bite his throat as it went down slowly, this was a potent mix, something that he was thoroughly enjoying. As he sipped his drink slowly, he looked around the room again, but this time something met his gaze. Rather than something, it was someone, and not just one someone it was two someones. At first it was the male's gaze he met. The males eyes seemed to look Kei over as well as give a vibe of envy. After a few seconds the the male immediately averted his eyes and was looking back at the girl he seemed to be interacting with. It was at that moment the female's gaze met with Kei's gaze. Her gaze was different though, it seemed to be more of a confirming gaze from what Kei could tell. Just like the male's gaze the female quickly averted her eyes as soon as she had realized that her gaze had met Kei's.
With curiosity in mind Kei got up with his drink in hand and decided to go up to the two talking. Seeing as they were a few steps away, it only took Kei a few steps to make it to them. Before speaking up Kei quietly cleared his throat and somewhat interrupted the two.「Hi you two, sorry if I am being a bother, but I couldn't help but notice you guys gazing over in my general direction.」He took a small sip from his drink and continued on.「Maybe I am wrong, maybe I am right, but regardless I figured I might as well introduce myself to the two people that seemed to be looking at me.」He pulled up a seat next to the pair and gave them a friendly smile.「My name's Kei Kinzo nice to meet you two.」 | Name: Kei Kinzo
Age: 21
Appearance:
Height: 178 cm or 5'11"
Weight: 82 kg or 180 lbs
Likes: Kind people, video games, cold weather, anime, manga, talking to people, technology, cars, fun activities, girls, cooking, good food, living comfortably, keeping things simple, guns, glasses.
Dislikes: Bad people, boring people, overly deep water, liars, school, unneeded details, cigarettes.
Zodiac Sign: Aquarius
Special Talent:
Kei doesn't have any extraordinary special talent, but what he is good at is video games, cars, and cooking. Aside from those three things he is about as average as a person can get in terms of other talents.
Profession:
To avoid having to work for the rest of his life Kei decided on taking a job that would allow him to both have fun and make tons of money on a day to day basis, as such his profession lies in day trade, whether it be stocks or foreign currency he trades them all and makes a good amount of money doing it. Despite having an honest to good job, every now and again he is an arms dealer that lies within the grey area of legality.
Bio/Personality:
Kei is probably an overly outgoing guy, he was always this way since a young age, he really didn't care who someone was or what kind of person they were as long as they were kind he was able to get along with them with ease. He is a simplistic thinker and hates when things are made overly complicated since there is no real reason for things to become harder than it already is. As such he does his best to simplify every aspect of his life without compromising his interests. While yes he would love to live as a god and not have to worry about bodily functions, but he would not go and get special surgery to get bodily functions removed. A trait that usually goes hand in hand with outgoing, is being kind and helpful. Kei does not lack that trait in any way you can say he is the epitome of a kind and outgoing guy even to a fault. Aside from all that Kei is the type of guy to try and get to know a random stranger in the street and hopefully become friends with said stranger for a lifetime, he cares that deeply for relationships.
Growing up Kei was always intelligent and methodical about everything he did, this carried all through his life even to now. That's one of the reasons he decided to become a day trade and arms dealer. He wanted a life of relative ease and comfort. While he does hate the idea of school he understands that somewhere down the line the diploma and education will benefit him and as such he is putting himself through school something that his parents always struggled to do as they could never afford to get him in, but with Kei coming into a fortune due to day trading and arms dealing, he has no problems affording the tuition costs for school, as such he puts himself through it all. While yes Kei is indeed richer than most people, he does not like to show it off because then he feels he is being a horrible person for doing so.
Your character's favorite song:
*Your age: 20
*Region: United States
*How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: 4-5 years
*How often do you have time to post?: Pretty much everyday unless stated otherwise
*Misc: I do attend university so sometimes the work load from that may cause me to go MIA for a day or two, but I will always give a heads up!
"These are the things that make a good story great and good writers even greater." |
53,004 | 1,436 | 15 | 1,817 | 177 | Before Joel had taken ownership, his garage had once been some sort of welding shop. He remembered walking the empty floor with the commercial real estate broker before they’d closed on the property and the welding dust that had been all over literally everything. What a pain it had been to clean up. Inside, he’d kept the old office area largely intact. The upstairs had been a conference room combined with two other small offices and a few years ago he’d decided to consolidate and make the area a living space. That project was still unfinished, but the shop floor was a pristine wonder. Blueish-gray tile shined in a semi-gloss finish that continued halfway up the wall with a black border that separated the bright white that continued up to the blacked out ceiling. New light fixtures hung along with air and electrical lines for his usage.
Behind the back wall office area was Joel’s main toolbox: a royal blue affair with polished handles and various drawers and doors containing a myriad of tools, all neatly organized. The entire assembly was taller than he was and featured various electrical hookups in a center desk area for convenience. He kept a laptop in the center along with a high stool where he sat briefly researching topics completely unrelated to his present work. A visitor would notice this small section of the shop, not visible from the outside, was slightly more personal than the sterilized main floor. Several pictures hung of him with past friends and events, many featuring the car presently in the back of the shop. Trophies of various dates were tucked away on a small ledge above along with framed certificates and letters. The radio blared and he paid no mind to the visitor that had sauntered in with her injured scooter.
He swiveled on the stool and found the younger female standing there. Freezing in place he shot a slightly dumbfounded double-take toward her, his eyes confirming to his brain that there was indeed another person in the shop and right in front of him. Wait, what day is this? Was his first thought. Damn, I left the door open... was his second thought. “Huh?” Was all that managed to register out of his mouth. He reached back to the laptop while eyeing the damaged scooter and eased down the volume. Shit I like that song too, what hell is this? His eyes scanned the small scooter, a Vespa, which looked to have taken some cosmetic damage then to its apparent driver who looked as if she had taken some fashion damage. Not that bad Joel, you did leave the door open, you dumbass. His mental notes continued.
Since she had apparently pushed it in, he figured it wasn’t running. Simple a machine as it was, he was still a little curious. He’d never touched a Vespa and hers seemed to be a pretty old one, but still in surprisingly good kit. Interesting. He remembered once hearing that some of them could be worth more than a few dollars. As was his custom, the first thing he did after hopping down was pop the seat up and see if there was fuel inside. “So what happened?” He asked, still glancing it over. It briefly occurred to him that the tasteful aroma of Jeep gear oil still hung on his long sleeve t-shirt and shorts.
Joel's Shop Radio #2 | Name: Joel Nicolosi
Age: 32
Height: 6’1”
Weight: 185 lbs
Likes:
+Caffeine
+Reading
+Conspiracy Theories
+Working-Out
+Talk Radio
+Cars/Trucks/Vehicles/etc.
Dislikes:
-Seafood
-Sports
-Cold Weather
-Bad Grammar
-Authority
-Disorganization
Zodiac Sign: Gemini
Special Talent: Legendary Alcohol Tolerance
Profession: Mechanic/Owner Apex Designs, a small, single-door garage, tucked away on the industrial Southside end of town with enough room for about three cars inside.
Bio/Personality:
Joel is a man who views himself as someone not necessarily doing what they want to do in life, but doing what they're good at. He enjoys repairing the automotive woes of many of Sol City’s wealthy clientele. However, even though his work is considered some of the best in the city, he’s often equally known for his lengthy vacations and costly invoices. Additionally armed with a business degree that he earned off of an only briefly offered scholarship in his youth, he very carefully balances work, play and sometimes outright laziness. He keeps no set schedule and can be found in his shop sometimes at the most bizarre of hours.
Outwardly, Joel has a very arrogant aura that often turns off others. He’s been told that he’s “unapproachable” and though he likes the thought of being intimidating, sometimes he does feel a genuine desire to have deeper conversations. He enjoys flirting and being in some social venues, but often feels bored and out of place. He doesn’t consider himself extroverted. Interestingly, he tends to talk non-stop while working on vehicles and has his own crowd of conversational regulars, often the bored and retired older men of the city, that stop by just to see what he’s working on.
Joel is very aware of his eccentricities and has a warped sense of justice. He enjoys watching people that may have wronged him or refused his advice “get what they deserve” to the point of comedy. He likes that some may look down on him for his chosen profession, but at the same time wishes he was doing something else. He’s never satisfied for very long.
Favorite Song:
Tell us about yourself:
Age: 32
What part of the world are you from?: VA, USA
How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: Around 17
How often do you have time to post?: Usually 2-3 times per week, maybe more depending on my work schedule/other things.
Anything else you want to mention?:
I actually work a pretty cool job, but it does demand a lot of time out of me sometimes. I'm married and have three kids. Roleplay/Writing is one of my few surviving hobbies in adulthood next to working out and reading a book occasionally. I usually only have time to write one game at a time here on the Guild so this is it for now. I'm going to my level best to make sure its a winner. I try to take care of my players, so if you're reading this and thinking about joining, we'll be glad to have you. |
53,005 | 1,436 | 16 | 83 | 266 | The Coffee Pot
Having enough time in the coffee shop mulling over a surprisingly decent expresso Sasha succumbed to the boredom and slumped down his chair; subconsciously he hoped someone would have already forced him to reveal his true personage, so he then could flaunt his superiority over the assembled peasants. Alas it seemed these dullards were fooled by his clever guise, perhaps he was playing Jocelyn a little too well. With a little more charisma Sas… err Jocelyn would have these fools kissing the ground his perfectly pedicured feet walked on. He was not irked at the lack of attention, no sir, not one bit.
His right hand traced the luxurious Epi leather of his Neo Belaia clutch, while the lavish Louis Vuitton bag was a reminder of his status it was also his cheat bag. A smug smirk enveloped his face, those sycophants back at the penthouse should have not taken his word that he would play fair. At first he considered not smuggling some provisions with him, but then again God made temptation so alluring. His new strategy was to lay-low (as he doubted his toadies would check up on him in any notable capacity) and he would win this idiotic challenge; cheating would technically be going against the spirit of the whole shebang, but if he was not caught was it cheating?
His burner phone pinged notifying that his UberLUX driver was waiting on him outside. He placed some crumpled bills on the table and made his way outside. A cold wind blew as he entered the high-end luxury sedan. Walking was over-rated.
The Old Starboard
Sasha rolled his eyes as the driver prattled incessantly about his brood of brats. The state of the service industry in this city was a joke and so was the fact that this walrus mustached moron procreated. Worse yet was that the imbecile droned on about the local gay scene when Sasha inquired about bars. Why the man thought that Sasha would want to know that information was beyond him. Flustered he twisted his long hair in his fingers. Stupid old fool, what did he know. Nothing that is what. Did the simpleton not realize that Sasha was one of the city’s most eligible bachelors and not a homosexual…he just veered off the proverbial path from time to time which is a completely normal heterosexual thing to do. Pervert was probably hitting on him or something. Eck…gross. He suppressed a gag as the car pulled up to The Old Starboard. Despite his disgust with the peon he had the twit walk around the car and open the door for him. Sasha scoffed at the driver as the imp had the audacity to tell him to have a “good day” and to “stay safe”. How presumptuous.
As Sasha made his way to the bar he attempted to channel the Jocelyn persona, but was overcome by an urge to partake in a particularly naughty vice. After ordering a Scotch…J&B on the rocks (a personal favorite) he made his way to the bathroom. On his way there he wrinkled his nose in disgust as this establishment reeked from lack of ambition as well as well as class, culture, taste, and intelligence. He thought he recognized one of the rubes from the coffee house as well, which would be all too fitting if true. Once inside the bathroom he made sure he was truly alone before reaching inside his clutch for a small mirror, a hundred dollar bill, a razor blade, and a clear bag containing a gram of cocaine. After snorting a few lines he shuts his eyes and feels comforted by his racing heart; tears stream down his face. For a moment he feels blissfully in tune with universe before crashing back down to earth. Flushing the razor blade and the empty bag he reverently places the other items back in his clutch. Sasha dries his tears and wipes the slight residue of cocaine off his lips with a handkerchief. Ensuring his nostrils are not bleeding he bounds his way back to the bar an extra pep in his step per say. | Max Sylvester Summerson
Age: 28, just.
Apparel:
Height: 5'11
Weight: 145 Ibs
Likes: Cigarettes, Cigars and Malt Whiskey; Fast Cars and Slow women; Coffee and Morning Mist; Working under the wing on a sunny day; Flying the plane in stormy weather; Lobster Thermidor and Pot Noodles; Letting off steam and Buckshot; Keats, Burns and Chaucer; Risk, Monopoly and DnD; Batting off of the wing of his plane; Big Dogs and sweeping up the runway; playing music loudly in a traffic jam.
Dislikes: Paying Taxes and Government Plane Inspectors; Large Airlines and Traffic Control; Electric Cars and Counting Pennies; Other Pilots and Other Mechanics; Daedalus and PanAm.
Zodiac Sign: Libra
Special Talent: Mental Arithmetic
Profession: Commercial Passenger/Cargo Pilot
Personality: A bit on the quiet side, when Max says something his voice demands attention, that said he's not an attention seeker by any stretch of the word. Despite that he is a fun loving, and creative individual when you've been around him enough, with a very genuine sense of life and openness. As of recently however he has become more irritable and moody, with the decline of his company and the loss of his one other employee. He lives his life in a state of barely satiated boredom, having relied on his own entertainment as his circle of friends is fairly scant. But when he is with people, people he likes, he likes to take part in good hearted mayhem. Max doesn't feel like he is above anyone, and that comes off in the way he speaks to people, this doesn't mean he won't speak up if he knows he's right.
Bio: To understand Max, one must take a trip back in time, to a time before he was born. Max's grandfather had emigrated from Germany to the United States in the Mid-30s, under his new, anglicized name Simon Summerson (previously Simone Zimmersonne). He had worked for Dornier as a technician at one of their engine works, and so had experience with motors and planes, as his engines went into Dornier's planes; the rise of the Nazi Party, however, convinced him to leave Germany. Quickly Simon found that his German Marks were worthless, and stuck in Britain as a young man with no credible references, he had to do petty work for petty cash. Once the war started however, he was drafted into the Airforce as a mechanic, and during desperate times he himself was forced to pilot fighters.
After the war, decorated and an ace, Simon made the final leg of his journey to America. There, on the cramped boat, he made the acquaintance of one Axel Suhlhoff (Anglicized to Axel Suhl), a German Catholic who managed to escape in the final months of the war to Spain. Both being native to south Germany, they stuck together; Axel had not come alone however, he traveled with his wife and children. And his sister, Mira (whom Simon later married). Upon arriving the group continued to travel together, and found a place to settle in Solaris County. There, with what funds they had left, opened a machine shop and worked on tractors and crop dusters. It was in the summer of 51, when the government was surplusing DC-3s, that year Summerson and Suhl entered the business of actual flying.
By the end of the 50s Suhl had passed away, but the company was in strong financial shape, the fleet had tripled to 9 planes by that time; making numerous flights every month under contract with state government. Summerson and Suhl continued to preform strongly for decades, hauling goods, mail and passengers and into and out of state. Plans for an air traffic control were drafted up and Martin, Simon's son, was acquiring finances when news arrived that Pan-America was opening a division on the west coast. Daedalus. Those plans of opening a terminal and getting the contract to traffic surrounding airspace were quickly put aside as an up hill battle ensured. Backed by the wealth of its mother company, Daedalus had established a large regional airport that quickly became international, state shifted its contracts with the newer airline and business began to dry up as a result of uncompetitive pricing of Daedalus deals.
During this time Max was being raised, his father had insisted Max and all his children go to public school, despite his considerable wealth. Max didn't do particularly well, nor did he do particularly poorly, he was an average student by all accounts, only really excelling in maths but not algebra. Max was considered one of the cool kids, but his choice of company never really expressed it. He tended towards hanging out with the "nerds", going so far that people called him King of the nerds, a title he begrudgingly accepted. In this time he got into bored games and maths championships, skipping out on parties and dating for a night of DnD or CoC. Not to say he's never had experience with with the other gender, but his experience is lacking. Upon graduation his father's connections easily found him a place in the state university, where mostly he kept his head down and did his work, all the while training to be a pilot. It had seemed as though he was the only one of his father's children who had any intention on joining the family business.
S&S slowly began to decline, and as did Martin's health, the once large fleet had to be sold off to cover medical expenses, and Daedalus tried numerous times to buy out the company to no avail.
Max assumed control of the company a week after his father's passing, by that point it was him, and one other pilot. And 9 silent DC-3s, the planes that his father had instructed him not to sell no matter what. Loyal customers continued to be loyal, keeping the company barely afloat, but the company never really operated at full capacity. Recently the other pilot left for a more lucrative contract at Daedalus, and Max carries out contracts very rarely, coasting on the money he was left by his father and his degree in Civil Engineering. Max resides in the large house that was once his family home, his siblings had all grown up and left, and the house was empty but for a few rooms. His mother continues to live with him, quietly assuming her duties as head of the house.
Your character's favorite song: |
53,006 | 1,436 | 17 | 92 | 2,182 | 8:00 AM
Through the smell of the harbor and a song coming loudly from Sadie's phone, the 21-year-old college student woke up for the day. She groggily got herself ready for the day. She needed to hurry and get to Footsteps since today was an away game. All hands on deck sorta deal. She grabbed her phone and earbuds turning the song she woke to on at full blast. In two days she had a showcase and a habit of her's was to listen to the selected song as often as she could to get the sound down perfectly.
Leaving her small and somewhat chilly, due to faulty AC, apartment, Sadie made her way to the Coffee Pot. Ever since she let her friend borrow her Keurig the darn thing just doesn't seem to work right anymore so until the foreseeable future Sadie has become a Coffee Pot regular. To be honest she really likes it. The coffee is much better when made by someone who actually knows how to do it. Her only issue is that she seems to have the inability to wake up properly until that first sip of the dark nectar.
9:30
She hadn't spent long at the Coffee Pot. She had work and didn't want to make everyone do all the prepping for the day without her. When she got there the only other person there was Ted. He almost always beat everyone else here despite being far from a morning person. It was impressing if she had to be honest. Waving to the chef, Sadie made her way to the front and started cleaning up.
She had been there for about 30 minutes before Tommy walked in she finished what she was getting ready and moved over to help out the other waitress so they'd be done before opening. When they finished she looked at her watch noting that opening time was on the horizon and quickly stuffed her earbuds into her pocket and waited for the first patrons of the day. | Name:
Sadie Katlyn Hill
Age:
21
Height:
5’5”
Weight:
124 lbs.
Likes:
Baking
Sweets/Candies
Putting a smile on someone's face
Softball/Baseball
Dancing
Bow Hunting
Reading
Dislikes:
Trying to remember her past
Bullies
Flirting
Pushy/Bossy people
Her Scars
Cigarettes
Alcohol
Zodiac Sign:
Gemini
Special Talent:
Dancing, Baking, and some would consider her kindness a special talent.
Profession:
She is currently a waitress at Footsteps Sports Bar but is also studying at a performing arts school for dancing.
Bio/Personality:
Sadie and her family originally lived in New York when Sadie was growing up. Her life from birth to about 6 was fairly normal. She had many friends in Kindergarten, and first grade had started the same way until something happened.
You see Sadie wasn't born a Hill. She was adopted into the family at the age of six. She was orphaned when her family was killed during a kidnapping gone wrong. Her father and mother tried to stop two men who were attempting to kidnap Sadie and her younger brother. The parents were killed by the two men and Sadie and her brother had received serious injuries, but before the kidnappers could get away the cops showed up. The men were arrested and the two children were rushed to the hospital. Unfortunately, Sadie's brother died during treatment and when Sadie was stable weeks later they moved her to the children's wing. The long process of figuring out what to do with her began. She had no close or distant living relatives and they were most likely going to put her in the foster program. However, there was a family that had happened to be volunteering at the hospital at the time and Sadie quickly became attached to the twins of the family. The kids knew that Sadie was probably going to become a foster child but they couldn't let it happened. So after days of constant begging, their parents decided to undergo the adoption process. She doesn't remember much before the incident but loves her new family all the same.
Sadie was overjoyed with the fact that someone had chosen to take her in. She had two new older brothers, Oliver and Alex; two older sisters, Lindsey and Kiley; and a younger brother, Micky. Her new parents were Nathan and Taylor. Her new family was loving and caring and she didn't feel left out for one second. They always made sure she felt at home with them. This is only the first chapter of Sadie's story. After finishing her schooling with this wonderfully close family standing behind her, she decided to head out her on her own to pursue her love of dancing.
As far as who she is, Sadie is a natural caretaker. It is just who she is. Whenever she sees anyone hurting or in need she can't help but try to take care of them no matter who they are or what they've done. Although she does at times neglect to take care of herself and if anyone mentions it she will get upset. She makes friends easily, but she won't abandon her closest friends. Some people on the outside looking in probably think she has gotten over her past and is a perfect example of what someone should hope to be.
This isn't true in the slightest. She still has her issues. As a result of the trauma early in her life, she has developed chronic depression and Depersonilization Disorder. It hasn't been that bad in recent years because she is starting to get better but she is still very self-conscious.
Your character's favorite song:
Tell us about yourself:
*Your age:
21
*What part of the world are you from?
North Carolina, USA
*How many years have you been writing/roleplaying:
That’s a little hard to answer. I’ll get into it if someone asks.
*How often do you have time to post?
Just depends on what’s going on that day.
*Anything else you want to mention?
Umm well, I like acting and I guess my enjoyment of roleplaying came from that. |
53,007 | 1,436 | 18 | 1,855 | 720 | Marinalia (Romus) Olympus
The Old Starboard, Sunday afternoon
Marilania noticed the man walk over, she had obviously not been as discreet and under the radar as it had seemed. Well this was going to be embarrassing, there was probbly a way out of it though, and without having to resort to desperate measures.
Thinking quickly and replying in a warm English accent that sounded like she only left the country a week ago.
"oh, yeah... Kinda. I thought I recognised you from the pool earlier. Luna sports, blonde obviously... Pale Blue swimsuit? Hair tied back? "
She always hid her stomach at the pool, a nasty knife wound in a mugging had left her with a scar she hated. One of the reasons she had become the person she was, traveling, taking jobs. The family business had always been less than polite but things got too cut throat. That was not Marilania and she broke from her mother's path and took a life akin to her father.
Money was not worth the price it took.
He introduced him self, least he was polite, going a tiny bit pink at being caught out her hand reached out for the vintage aviators before deciding not to run off, despite her squirming embarrassnent at being caught out.
"Marlin, though if your being formal, Marilania, Romus, Olympus. Sorry about staring. Id be a rather bad spy. Break eggs, make omelettes. What brings you to Sol city, everyone has a story"
Romus. A remeninder of a father who had abandoned her yet saved her in a way, his dealings in Africa, and shipments had caused her to have to leave Alaska. Why could he not ship somthing less political than guns.
Olympus. Olympus heavy Industries, a large UK based industrial company, her grandfather headed the board, her mother, aunt all had a say, thr webs of lies, the darker side to success and pits they had gone to achive it was a kind of black stain no water could remove. A stain that caused her to never settle, the longest she had been in a City was 8-9 months before moving on.
Looking round the bar another stranger had entered, brown hair, just the same as everyone else, nothing special. Went up to the bar, no real chit chat. Thr bar was getting busier, probbly just some person wanting a beer and a quiet night.
Not noticing as he left the bathrooms, she turned back to the two strangers, what must people think, a youngish blonde, strangers, some honorable lady of course... Though doubted anyone in this bar would be innocent of anything less. | Marilania (Romus), Olympus
(double barreled, somewhat a name she hides)
Age: 27
Appearance: fairly Athletic, long straight Blonde and with a penchant for skirts she remained in good shape after professional sports, though now is quite abit off her competition times. Always wearing a silver necklace in the style of 3 moons linked together gifted from an old friend, and a fair sized diamond ring that belonged to her grandmother which she values above all other things.
She has a distinct knife wound scar on stomach she tries to downplay and looks much like her mother but has eyes nearly identical to her father in a fairly cold grey.
Sometimes seen in more normal clothes, other times wears a flight suit with range of patches from a few airlines and UK flag for work and vintage aviators picked up on her travels. Otherwise favours UK/European clothing brands and styles.
Distinct English Accent despite travels
Height: 5’5
Weight: 130 pounds
Likes:
Pancakes
Flying
Driving, Mostly SUV and off roaders.
Tea
Exploring old ruins and local towns
Technology
Awful movies
Swimming
Rock music
Bakers
Dislikes:
Crash landings
Smoking
being a passenger
Deceptions, lies and intriques
Ultra packed locations
Cold weather/places
Navy/Ships.
Long term ties to where she lives
Being judged for her Family name/appearance
Zodiac Sign: TAURUS
Special Talent: Able to make a Chocolate filled pancake with chocolate between two layers of pancake,
Very quick to adapt to new cities.
Profession: qualified pilot and Co Crew on a local cargo. Helicopters and short haul airline flights respectively. (also works in there small inner city office when not flying cago's and does general paperwork related to aircraft)
Bio/Personality: Daughter of an English wealthy family, her mother Maria raised her alone after her father Vesarian a captain and owner of a shipping enterprise involved in several less than above board jobs left her before she was born.
Raised on the family estate she was taught for her younger years quickly learning to be fluent in both Latin and English as an old family tradition dictated. Sent off to a private academy when she was barely in secondary education, she soon found her skills after an injury on running track in the swimming pool and won multiple awards in various championships. Though this time was not all easy, being away from family for so long, being abandoned as a child and a lack of a “home” took its toll and made her distant and also reserved.
Things turned round when she took a flying lesson for fun as part of the academies extracurricular programme; she soon took to it and passed her full license just before she was 18.
Returning home to her family, the manufacturing business was turning nasty and a rival firm moving meant her happy reunion was shortlived soon sucked into the internal battles, rivalries internal and external that had plagued the family for decades. Worse still when a mugging went wrong left her with a now scar she hides on her stomach she decided to try and find her own way and escape her family’s internal pull down into its darkside of wealth.
Meeting her step sister Victoria and her father just before she left was the final straw and headed off and worked for a mix of local airlines, helicopter taxi and other jobs before now taking a role at the Sol city Daedalus Airlines and settling down into a smaller but well-furnished top floor apartment in one of the outer districts.
Recently arrived into the city she has not got many ties to the place, renting everything out of habit from a pre furnished apartment, to an offroad SUV (land rover Discovery) on short term leases, never wanting long term ties to a place.
(Had to leave anchorage after a news article linked her father to legal arms trade in Africa and her and his name where linked by a investigative journalist. Headed to Sol city to take up a new work contract for local air freight company.)
Personality wise she is fairly confident, flirty but also takes a while to warm to people having moved about so much. Fairly easy going, slower to trust though and less willing to forgive. Not always wanting to get very close to people as less to deal with when she moves on. Maybe the new city will change her outlook or just be another stamp on the passport.
Caring but again takes time for that to happen after many moves, and too many people. Generally takes time for true self to evident.
Has very few personal effects with her bar the named jewellery as had been pretty nomadic since she was 18 ish, 9 years or thereabout.
Your character's favorite song:
The following is not required, but we strongly encourage you to at least put a little something. In the past we have found that when players get to know each other as real people, not just as names on a screen, it helps the longevity of the game. Seriously, please get to know your fellow players.
Tell us about yourself:
*Your age: 27
*What part of the world are you from? United Kingdom
*How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: 1-2 years offsite, 3 months on guild
*How often do you have time to post? Fairly Regularly, 2-3 times a week, maybe more at weekend
*Anything else you want to mention? Tea loving office dweller, i paint, do photography and self confessed a bit of a nerd on some things. I also collect wargames models.
"These are the things that make a good story great and good writers even greater." |
53,008 | 1,436 | 19 | 869 | 41 | Ren White
The Old Starboard, Sunday afternoon
"Doctor, well then Mr DR. About as heavy as a flight manual."
Ren snorted at the attempt to mirror his own nickname joke. "Ren is fine."
As if coming out of thin air, the man from the bar was suddenly next to them. Ren looked up at the man, raising one eyebrow.
「Hi you two, sorry if I am being a bother, but I couldn't help but notice you guys gazing over in my general direction.」
Ren's face was back to a total look of boredom, with a sudden interest on a stain on the table and a faint trait of pink on his cheekbones.
「Maybe I am wrong, maybe I am right, but regardless I figured I might as well introduce myself to the two people that seemed to be looking at me.」 He pulled up a seat next to the pair and gave them a friendly smile.「My name's Kei Kinzo nice to meet you two.」
"That's a bit presumptuous, don't you think? Maybe we just wanted the waiter's attention." Ren rolled his eyes and leaned his head away from the man. Kei, apparently.
Ren was starting to get dizzy again. His palms were sweaty and it dawned on him lunch yesterday had been his last meal, and maybe that wasn’t his best idea ever. "I'm Ren." He chocked out, still not looking at Kei, before he abruptly stood up again. "Bathroom, sorry." As he left the booth he could hear Marlin introduce herself vaguely.
"Marlin, though if your being formal, Marilania, Romus, Olympus…"
Ren didn't really have to use the bathroom, he just had to get up. The stress from his studies and his family had been building up, and apparently today was a day just as good as any to get a meltdown. It didn't help that Ren wasn't feeling like himself today either. He would usually bite strangers head off if they tried to talk to him, but for some reason he just couldn't bring himself to do that today. He walked quick paced over to the bathroom.
Pressing his eyes closed, hoping it would shut out the pulsation in his head, Ren pushed the door open just as a man was leaving. Ren was almost a head taller than the man and it took him a little too long to notice him. He had too much momentum from his stride and stepped on the man's foot before he could stop, but then his head started spinning again – and he toppled over and took the man with him in his fall. They landed in an awkward tangle on the floor. "Ugh…" Ren hit his head against the wall in the fall, and was even more dizzy now than he was from before. | ℛen 𝒲hite
Age: 21
Appearance:
Height: 185 cm / 6’
Weight: 78 kg / 171 lbs
Likes: Coffee, lots of it. Drinking – he loves to forget all about who he is, but hates being vulnerable of spilling his thoughts to other people. Arguing, and being right.
Dislikes: Nosy people. Annoying people. People who think they’re better than him. Going to bed - Ren loves to sleep, but hates lying in bed alone with his thoughts.
Zodiac Sign: Scorpio. Birthday: November 1st.
Strengths: Resourceful, brave, passionate, stubborn, a true friend.
Weaknesses: Distrusting, jealous, secretive, violent.
Scorpio likes: Truth, facts, being right, longtime friends, teasing, a grand passion.
Scorpio dislikes: Dishonesty, revealing secrets, passive people.
Special Talent: Ren was taught to play the piano as a child, and is really good at it. Not that he wants anybody to know. He is also surprisingly good at dancing.
Profession: Studying to become a surgeon at the most prestigious university in the city.
Bio/Personality: Ren is the only child of a rich family. His father inherited a successful pharmaceutical company from his father again, earning them a fortune. Growing up in a big mansion Ren had lots of servants and maids around him, but rarely his parents - who were busy working. He has few friends and big time trust issues. He’s snarky, short tempered, grumpy and sulky when he doesn’t get his way. He’s smug, arrogant and believes himself to be better than most people. Secretly he just wants to be accepted for who he is instead of what he has and who his father is. He envies people who makes friends easy, and though he will never admit it he is drawn towards such people. Ren is struggling with his sexuality, not knowing what he identifies as. He tries to forget this by studying in most of his free time. As his father wanted, he’s in Med. School studying to become a surgeon, unsure of this is what he actually wants to do with his life.
Your character's favorite song: Written in the Water by Gin Wigmore. If you bring this up Ren will turn beet red and utterly deny ever having heard of the song.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Tell us about yourself:
*Your age: 22.
*What part of the world are you from? Norway.
*How many years have you been writing/roleplaying:
I’ve never roleplayed on a forum like this before, but I used to roleplay a bit with people online back in the day when msn was a thing (Online chat, kind of like Skype), lol. It consisted primarily of speed posting, so writing paragraphs will be a welcoming challenge. I would exclusively do fandom based RP’s, so RP with OC’s is new territory for me as well. I think it’s more challenging to come up with the concept of a whole person instead of just writing about a character you’re already familiar with, but hey, still equally as fun.
*How often do you have time to post? I’ll start by saying 2-4 times a week, but the way things are right now I’ll probably check in every day.
*Anything else you want to mention? What you do for a living? How much do you work a week? What do you enjoy doing besides writing?
I just finished my bachelor’s degree as a kindergarten teacher, but didn’t feel like going into the work field just yet, so now I’m studying a master’s degree in pedagogy. Other hobbies include watching movies and tv series, creative stuff like needle felting, drawing/painting, strumming clumsily on my ukulele and singing (guitar is too hard for me, lol.), etc. I play video games to a certain degree, but the games I can play is limited due to sever motion sickness if it’s a first person kind of game (I’ll almost throw up after 30 minutes of games like Mass Effect or such… (ಠ‿ಠ’) ).
BTW: During winter here in Norway it gets dark most of the day. Right now, we get about 8 hours of sunlight a day, but it gets worse (ಥ_ಥ) Because of this most of us suffer from winter depressions, including me. Hooray ʘ‿ʘ. So if I get down in a funk and needs to step back from obligations I will give a heads up. I don’t think this will become likely right now, but maybe it will when I have exams on top of everything else. We’ll see (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ.
PS: Sorry for the emoticon abuse. I find them too funny sometimes （´・ω・ `）(send help). |
53,009 | 1,436 | 20 | 1,998 | 752 | Kei Kinzo
Kei listened intently as the female named Marlin spoke, and as for the guy, before giving any sort of name he called Kei out for being presumptuous. Honestly he was right for all Kei knows maybe they were trying to get the attention of someone else in the Old Starboard. It wasn't long after that though that the male of finally introduced himself as Ren. Kei smiled and nodded, as he went to open his mouth and apologize for being presumptuous about the stares, Red stood from his seat looking a bit uncomfortable and excused himself to the bathroom. As such Kei didn't get to apologize or say anything at all to the male rather. Now it was just down to Marlin and Kei.
It was during this time that another patron had come into the store but, Kei did not pay much attention to the other customer. After a brief second of silence, Kei looked towards Marlin and began to speak.
「Well as Ren said before excusing himself, I was definitely being presumptuous and as such I wanted to apologize for being that way. As such there is no reason to be apologizing for anything as in all technicality you could've been just staring into space that coincidentally was in my same direction.」
After taking another small sip of his now diluted rum and coke, he coughed slightly to clear his throat.
「Anyway as you were mentioning about the pool, I definitely did see you there earlier today, while brief, I did see you. Is going to the sports facility a part of your daily routine? Thinking back I have seen you there other times besides today. Sorry if I am being a little nosy, no obligation to answer by the way.」
Kei didn't realize but he was starting to become a blabber mouth, he was just going on and on about something he really had no business knowing about. Not only that it was starting to make him sound a little creepy. In his mind he had come to realize this and as such he was starting to become a little embarrassed of himself. He let out a small laugh trying his best to mitigate any awkwardness between the two of them. | Name: Kei Kinzo
Age: 21
Appearance:
Height: 178 cm or 5'11"
Weight: 82 kg or 180 lbs
Likes: Kind people, video games, cold weather, anime, manga, talking to people, technology, cars, fun activities, girls, cooking, good food, living comfortably, keeping things simple, guns, glasses.
Dislikes: Bad people, boring people, overly deep water, liars, school, unneeded details, cigarettes.
Zodiac Sign: Aquarius
Special Talent:
Kei doesn't have any extraordinary special talent, but what he is good at is video games, cars, and cooking. Aside from those three things he is about as average as a person can get in terms of other talents.
Profession:
To avoid having to work for the rest of his life Kei decided on taking a job that would allow him to both have fun and make tons of money on a day to day basis, as such his profession lies in day trade, whether it be stocks or foreign currency he trades them all and makes a good amount of money doing it. Despite having an honest to good job, every now and again he is an arms dealer that lies within the grey area of legality.
Bio/Personality:
Kei is probably an overly outgoing guy, he was always this way since a young age, he really didn't care who someone was or what kind of person they were as long as they were kind he was able to get along with them with ease. He is a simplistic thinker and hates when things are made overly complicated since there is no real reason for things to become harder than it already is. As such he does his best to simplify every aspect of his life without compromising his interests. While yes he would love to live as a god and not have to worry about bodily functions, but he would not go and get special surgery to get bodily functions removed. A trait that usually goes hand in hand with outgoing, is being kind and helpful. Kei does not lack that trait in any way you can say he is the epitome of a kind and outgoing guy even to a fault. Aside from all that Kei is the type of guy to try and get to know a random stranger in the street and hopefully become friends with said stranger for a lifetime, he cares that deeply for relationships.
Growing up Kei was always intelligent and methodical about everything he did, this carried all through his life even to now. That's one of the reasons he decided to become a day trade and arms dealer. He wanted a life of relative ease and comfort. While he does hate the idea of school he understands that somewhere down the line the diploma and education will benefit him and as such he is putting himself through school something that his parents always struggled to do as they could never afford to get him in, but with Kei coming into a fortune due to day trading and arms dealing, he has no problems affording the tuition costs for school, as such he puts himself through it all. While yes Kei is indeed richer than most people, he does not like to show it off because then he feels he is being a horrible person for doing so.
Your character's favorite song:
*Your age: 20
*Region: United States
*How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: 4-5 years
*How often do you have time to post?: Pretty much everyday unless stated otherwise
*Misc: I do attend university so sometimes the work load from that may cause me to go MIA for a day or two, but I will always give a heads up!
"These are the things that make a good story great and good writers even greater." |
53,010 | 1,436 | 21 | 1,855 | 720 | Marinalia (Romus) Olympus
The Old Starboard, Sunday afternoon
Noting Ren was somewhat showing signs of having a few, not too many and still sobre ernough to function though the roads might not be very safe of he was driving. There was somthing strange about him though Marilania could not put her finger on it.
He seemed about to say something then came the outburst. A sudden dash to the toilets, definitely somthing up there though she had known him all of 5 minutes and be very rude to pry.
"sure. Il watch your books"
The other man had arrived, thr bar seemed to be friendly and the alcohol had rather a handy effect to make people less awkward even though she was stuck on tea and the non alcoholics.
The guy seemed to ramble alot, what was it with this place and men tripping over there own tongues, not like she was wearing anything provocative. Pink track top, skirt, boots, coat folded neatly next get bags and pair of aviators on the table. Vintage from the 50's and thr kind you saw in a old WW2 movie.
Smiling slightly, the rambling was not crazy rambling at least.
"well I kinda was looking at you.. I was not sure if you where someone I knew from anchorage"
That was a lie, but it might cover for the staring, and maybe make her seem less like she was stalking him. Hardly a good way to meet someone in any capacity. Anchorage. The English accent was always fun to have at times.
The pool, OK.. No worries there, they both where being about as low key creepy as the other. This was a rather diffrent day than Marinalia had planned.
"yeah... I'm a regular if life let's me, rota work and all. Try to get a few km in before things get too busy with all the kids.
I used to swim competive until I had some bad luck with a injury"
Injury, yeah knife wound to the gut but that rather put people on edge, questions and all. Injury, one no one ever saw, bar a few lovers and family she had pained to hide that one for years.
"So, apart from awkward bar meetings. What's your thing?" | Marilania (Romus), Olympus
(double barreled, somewhat a name she hides)
Age: 27
Appearance: fairly Athletic, long straight Blonde and with a penchant for skirts she remained in good shape after professional sports, though now is quite abit off her competition times. Always wearing a silver necklace in the style of 3 moons linked together gifted from an old friend, and a fair sized diamond ring that belonged to her grandmother which she values above all other things.
She has a distinct knife wound scar on stomach she tries to downplay and looks much like her mother but has eyes nearly identical to her father in a fairly cold grey.
Sometimes seen in more normal clothes, other times wears a flight suit with range of patches from a few airlines and UK flag for work and vintage aviators picked up on her travels. Otherwise favours UK/European clothing brands and styles.
Distinct English Accent despite travels
Height: 5’5
Weight: 130 pounds
Likes:
Pancakes
Flying
Driving, Mostly SUV and off roaders.
Tea
Exploring old ruins and local towns
Technology
Awful movies
Swimming
Rock music
Bakers
Dislikes:
Crash landings
Smoking
being a passenger
Deceptions, lies and intriques
Ultra packed locations
Cold weather/places
Navy/Ships.
Long term ties to where she lives
Being judged for her Family name/appearance
Zodiac Sign: TAURUS
Special Talent: Able to make a Chocolate filled pancake with chocolate between two layers of pancake,
Very quick to adapt to new cities.
Profession: qualified pilot and Co Crew on a local cargo. Helicopters and short haul airline flights respectively. (also works in there small inner city office when not flying cago's and does general paperwork related to aircraft)
Bio/Personality: Daughter of an English wealthy family, her mother Maria raised her alone after her father Vesarian a captain and owner of a shipping enterprise involved in several less than above board jobs left her before she was born.
Raised on the family estate she was taught for her younger years quickly learning to be fluent in both Latin and English as an old family tradition dictated. Sent off to a private academy when she was barely in secondary education, she soon found her skills after an injury on running track in the swimming pool and won multiple awards in various championships. Though this time was not all easy, being away from family for so long, being abandoned as a child and a lack of a “home” took its toll and made her distant and also reserved.
Things turned round when she took a flying lesson for fun as part of the academies extracurricular programme; she soon took to it and passed her full license just before she was 18.
Returning home to her family, the manufacturing business was turning nasty and a rival firm moving meant her happy reunion was shortlived soon sucked into the internal battles, rivalries internal and external that had plagued the family for decades. Worse still when a mugging went wrong left her with a now scar she hides on her stomach she decided to try and find her own way and escape her family’s internal pull down into its darkside of wealth.
Meeting her step sister Victoria and her father just before she left was the final straw and headed off and worked for a mix of local airlines, helicopter taxi and other jobs before now taking a role at the Sol city Daedalus Airlines and settling down into a smaller but well-furnished top floor apartment in one of the outer districts.
Recently arrived into the city she has not got many ties to the place, renting everything out of habit from a pre furnished apartment, to an offroad SUV (land rover Discovery) on short term leases, never wanting long term ties to a place.
(Had to leave anchorage after a news article linked her father to legal arms trade in Africa and her and his name where linked by a investigative journalist. Headed to Sol city to take up a new work contract for local air freight company.)
Personality wise she is fairly confident, flirty but also takes a while to warm to people having moved about so much. Fairly easy going, slower to trust though and less willing to forgive. Not always wanting to get very close to people as less to deal with when she moves on. Maybe the new city will change her outlook or just be another stamp on the passport.
Caring but again takes time for that to happen after many moves, and too many people. Generally takes time for true self to evident.
Has very few personal effects with her bar the named jewellery as had been pretty nomadic since she was 18 ish, 9 years or thereabout.
Your character's favorite song:
The following is not required, but we strongly encourage you to at least put a little something. In the past we have found that when players get to know each other as real people, not just as names on a screen, it helps the longevity of the game. Seriously, please get to know your fellow players.
Tell us about yourself:
*Your age: 27
*What part of the world are you from? United Kingdom
*How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: 1-2 years offsite, 3 months on guild
*How often do you have time to post? Fairly Regularly, 2-3 times a week, maybe more at weekend
*Anything else you want to mention? Tea loving office dweller, i paint, do photography and self confessed a bit of a nerd on some things. I also collect wargames models.
"These are the things that make a good story great and good writers even greater." |
53,011 | 1,436 | 22 | 1,998 | 752 | Kei Kinzo
Upon hearing her admit to looking at him, he felt a bit of the awkwardness in his mind go away, he felt a little better about approaching her. He still did not want to come off as a creeper though so he kept as collected as possible. After taking yet another sip from his drink, he finally finished it off, ice and all, considering the ice just melted away. He placed the cup down on the table and with a light cling sound he then slid the cup away from the two of them. After being preoccupied with his cup for a good five seconds he finally looked at the girl as she spoke to him again. She had mentioned how she thought Kei possibly looked like someone from Anchorage. He let out a very friendly small laugh and began to speak.
「Ahaha, that clears everything up then, well I am sorry that I was not the person from Anchorage.」
He let on a friendly smile as she began to mention the sports facility and how she used to be a competitive swimmer.
「Hey I feel the same way, if life let's me I try my best to be at the gym everyday of the week. Just like you, though, sometimes life gets too busy. Also got to say, I could never imagine trying to swim competitively, I can swim but I completely suck at it when it comes to speed and form. Maybe you can teach me sometime?」
His eyes went wide for a very brief second, he felt that he said「 something that could be completely misunderstood, after all Kei was just trying to be friendly to someone he just met today, but not come onto her. He was deep in thought before she had asked him a question, at first he didn't catch the first half of it, but he immediately caught the tail end of the question.
「My thing huh?」
He really had to think about that for a second, how could he just openly go and tell her I am currently a student that day trades as his job and for side money deals small arms. That's not something everyone hears on a daily basis and nor is it something that people normally take part in when trying to be a good member of society. He ran his fingers through his hair and scratched his head for a brief moment.
「Well I am a student currently. I work from home, the pay is decent, I make enough to say that I am comfortable.」
Kei paused for a very brief second.
「Aside from that I honestly don't do anything else, I just kind of go about living life as the days come」 | Name: Kei Kinzo
Age: 21
Appearance:
Height: 178 cm or 5'11"
Weight: 82 kg or 180 lbs
Likes: Kind people, video games, cold weather, anime, manga, talking to people, technology, cars, fun activities, girls, cooking, good food, living comfortably, keeping things simple, guns, glasses.
Dislikes: Bad people, boring people, overly deep water, liars, school, unneeded details, cigarettes.
Zodiac Sign: Aquarius
Special Talent:
Kei doesn't have any extraordinary special talent, but what he is good at is video games, cars, and cooking. Aside from those three things he is about as average as a person can get in terms of other talents.
Profession:
To avoid having to work for the rest of his life Kei decided on taking a job that would allow him to both have fun and make tons of money on a day to day basis, as such his profession lies in day trade, whether it be stocks or foreign currency he trades them all and makes a good amount of money doing it. Despite having an honest to good job, every now and again he is an arms dealer that lies within the grey area of legality.
Bio/Personality:
Kei is probably an overly outgoing guy, he was always this way since a young age, he really didn't care who someone was or what kind of person they were as long as they were kind he was able to get along with them with ease. He is a simplistic thinker and hates when things are made overly complicated since there is no real reason for things to become harder than it already is. As such he does his best to simplify every aspect of his life without compromising his interests. While yes he would love to live as a god and not have to worry about bodily functions, but he would not go and get special surgery to get bodily functions removed. A trait that usually goes hand in hand with outgoing, is being kind and helpful. Kei does not lack that trait in any way you can say he is the epitome of a kind and outgoing guy even to a fault. Aside from all that Kei is the type of guy to try and get to know a random stranger in the street and hopefully become friends with said stranger for a lifetime, he cares that deeply for relationships.
Growing up Kei was always intelligent and methodical about everything he did, this carried all through his life even to now. That's one of the reasons he decided to become a day trade and arms dealer. He wanted a life of relative ease and comfort. While he does hate the idea of school he understands that somewhere down the line the diploma and education will benefit him and as such he is putting himself through school something that his parents always struggled to do as they could never afford to get him in, but with Kei coming into a fortune due to day trading and arms dealing, he has no problems affording the tuition costs for school, as such he puts himself through it all. While yes Kei is indeed richer than most people, he does not like to show it off because then he feels he is being a horrible person for doing so.
Your character's favorite song:
*Your age: 20
*Region: United States
*How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: 4-5 years
*How often do you have time to post?: Pretty much everyday unless stated otherwise
*Misc: I do attend university so sometimes the work load from that may cause me to go MIA for a day or two, but I will always give a heads up!
"These are the things that make a good story great and good writers even greater." |
53,012 | 1,436 | 23 | 83 | 266 | Time?, Place?
In his chemically altered state Sasha was in no position to avoid the collision and the eventual fall; had it not been for the thud and the sharp pain he would have barely even registered the back of his head slamming on the floor. It was by no means a graceful plummet. His vision went blurry and the petite man blacked out for a few seconds.
When he came to he wondered on how managed to end up on the floor and why his foot hurt; he also felt stupid, but that feeling stemmed from more from the fact that he was profoundly unaware of his surroundings than from colliding with someone. Some questions pushed to the forefront of his mind. Why was he at a what seemed from his vantage point to be a bar? Did he drink? Is he drunk? Is that why everything ached? Oh, no he was dying…was he killed in a bar? Why was he killed? Despite the cocaine fueled paranoia, Sahsa managed to calm himself by focusing on the known knowns. He was not dead or dying, it seemed he just literally ran into someone; perhaps he was very accident prone. His name was Sas…no it was Jocelyn… totally was Jocelyn as that name held some sort of intrinsic meaning to him. The expensive looking clutch suggested to Jocelyn that he must be pretty fashion forward to be walking around with a woman’s handbag. However, that coupled with the fact he felt strangely aroused by the beautiful stranger that collided with him spoke volumes about his sexuality; this was supported by a hazy memory of a polite Uber driver talking to him about the various homosexual establishments in the city earlier in the day. What a helpful service oriented individual that driver was, Jocelyn reminded himself to leave a positive review when he got the chance.
“I’ve heard about falling for a man, but this is ridiculous darling. I suppose most tend to buy me a drink first.”, said Jocelyn pushing the stray brown hair from his face as he shakily rose to his feet; his Russian accent more pronounced than normal as his inhibitions were quite low at this moment. Something felt off like he should be berating this man for his incompetence and demanding an apology, but Jocelyn dismissed it as he didn’t feel like he was that terrible of a person.
“Do forgive my clumsiness…I presume I can be quite the ditz when I am drinking. I truly am sorry.” After sanitizing his hands with some lotion found in his clutch he extended a now clean hand to attempt to help the handsome stranger up before blushing. “Oh, my gosh I do hope that you were not an online date or something. That would be really embarrassing. I would feel even more terrible then I already do. I hope I am not always this terrible at first impressions. I hate to sound forward, but before I make a larger fool of myself could you please clue me in if I should know you or not. It seems I took quite the bump to the back of the head and things are still quite hazy daisy."
Something still felt wrong, like he should be a lot more callous and spiteful then he was acting. His subconscious was yelling at him to sneer, but Jocelyn let out a slight smile instead. | Max Sylvester Summerson
Age: 28, just.
Apparel:
Height: 5'11
Weight: 145 Ibs
Likes: Cigarettes, Cigars and Malt Whiskey; Fast Cars and Slow women; Coffee and Morning Mist; Working under the wing on a sunny day; Flying the plane in stormy weather; Lobster Thermidor and Pot Noodles; Letting off steam and Buckshot; Keats, Burns and Chaucer; Risk, Monopoly and DnD; Batting off of the wing of his plane; Big Dogs and sweeping up the runway; playing music loudly in a traffic jam.
Dislikes: Paying Taxes and Government Plane Inspectors; Large Airlines and Traffic Control; Electric Cars and Counting Pennies; Other Pilots and Other Mechanics; Daedalus and PanAm.
Zodiac Sign: Libra
Special Talent: Mental Arithmetic
Profession: Commercial Passenger/Cargo Pilot
Personality: A bit on the quiet side, when Max says something his voice demands attention, that said he's not an attention seeker by any stretch of the word. Despite that he is a fun loving, and creative individual when you've been around him enough, with a very genuine sense of life and openness. As of recently however he has become more irritable and moody, with the decline of his company and the loss of his one other employee. He lives his life in a state of barely satiated boredom, having relied on his own entertainment as his circle of friends is fairly scant. But when he is with people, people he likes, he likes to take part in good hearted mayhem. Max doesn't feel like he is above anyone, and that comes off in the way he speaks to people, this doesn't mean he won't speak up if he knows he's right.
Bio: To understand Max, one must take a trip back in time, to a time before he was born. Max's grandfather had emigrated from Germany to the United States in the Mid-30s, under his new, anglicized name Simon Summerson (previously Simone Zimmersonne). He had worked for Dornier as a technician at one of their engine works, and so had experience with motors and planes, as his engines went into Dornier's planes; the rise of the Nazi Party, however, convinced him to leave Germany. Quickly Simon found that his German Marks were worthless, and stuck in Britain as a young man with no credible references, he had to do petty work for petty cash. Once the war started however, he was drafted into the Airforce as a mechanic, and during desperate times he himself was forced to pilot fighters.
After the war, decorated and an ace, Simon made the final leg of his journey to America. There, on the cramped boat, he made the acquaintance of one Axel Suhlhoff (Anglicized to Axel Suhl), a German Catholic who managed to escape in the final months of the war to Spain. Both being native to south Germany, they stuck together; Axel had not come alone however, he traveled with his wife and children. And his sister, Mira (whom Simon later married). Upon arriving the group continued to travel together, and found a place to settle in Solaris County. There, with what funds they had left, opened a machine shop and worked on tractors and crop dusters. It was in the summer of 51, when the government was surplusing DC-3s, that year Summerson and Suhl entered the business of actual flying.
By the end of the 50s Suhl had passed away, but the company was in strong financial shape, the fleet had tripled to 9 planes by that time; making numerous flights every month under contract with state government. Summerson and Suhl continued to preform strongly for decades, hauling goods, mail and passengers and into and out of state. Plans for an air traffic control were drafted up and Martin, Simon's son, was acquiring finances when news arrived that Pan-America was opening a division on the west coast. Daedalus. Those plans of opening a terminal and getting the contract to traffic surrounding airspace were quickly put aside as an up hill battle ensured. Backed by the wealth of its mother company, Daedalus had established a large regional airport that quickly became international, state shifted its contracts with the newer airline and business began to dry up as a result of uncompetitive pricing of Daedalus deals.
During this time Max was being raised, his father had insisted Max and all his children go to public school, despite his considerable wealth. Max didn't do particularly well, nor did he do particularly poorly, he was an average student by all accounts, only really excelling in maths but not algebra. Max was considered one of the cool kids, but his choice of company never really expressed it. He tended towards hanging out with the "nerds", going so far that people called him King of the nerds, a title he begrudgingly accepted. In this time he got into bored games and maths championships, skipping out on parties and dating for a night of DnD or CoC. Not to say he's never had experience with with the other gender, but his experience is lacking. Upon graduation his father's connections easily found him a place in the state university, where mostly he kept his head down and did his work, all the while training to be a pilot. It had seemed as though he was the only one of his father's children who had any intention on joining the family business.
S&S slowly began to decline, and as did Martin's health, the once large fleet had to be sold off to cover medical expenses, and Daedalus tried numerous times to buy out the company to no avail.
Max assumed control of the company a week after his father's passing, by that point it was him, and one other pilot. And 9 silent DC-3s, the planes that his father had instructed him not to sell no matter what. Loyal customers continued to be loyal, keeping the company barely afloat, but the company never really operated at full capacity. Recently the other pilot left for a more lucrative contract at Daedalus, and Max carries out contracts very rarely, coasting on the money he was left by his father and his degree in Civil Engineering. Max resides in the large house that was once his family home, his siblings had all grown up and left, and the house was empty but for a few rooms. His mother continues to live with him, quietly assuming her duties as head of the house.
Your character's favorite song: |
53,013 | 1,436 | 24 | 869 | 41 | Ren White
The Old Starboard, Sunday Afternoon
Ren could only roll over when the person underneath him tried to get up, groaning as he moved his head too fast.
“I’ve heard about falling for a man, but this is ridiculous darling. I suppose most tend to buy me a drink first.”
Falling… Right. Looking like a drunk fool Ren had not only awkwardly left Marlin and Kei, but now he’d made himself look like an even bigger asshole by physically attacking this woman in the bathroom. Or… man? If so, a very pretty one. This was Ren’s third encounter with a stranger today. Well, third times the charm, right? Ren looked at the person. They were quite tall for a woman, but very slender and no curves. Ren’s head hurt too much for this sort of puzzle right now. “Falling – Yeah, no I –” Luckily he didn’t need to finish his uncoherent sentence before the other man spoke again.
“Do forgive my clumsiness…I presume I can be quite the ditz when I am drinking. I truly am sorry.”
“Oh no, no. This is all on me. I – ahh.” Ren tried to get into a sitting position, but his body had other plans, so he ended up in a half slump against the wall. The wo… Man spoke quite formal as he pulled out his clutch – Maybe woman then? – and applied some liquid to his hands. On the other hand, Ren himself was wearing a so-called man-purse for his books, so… The person had shoulder length, brown hair and piercing blue eyes – although it was a bit difficult to see due to his dilated pupils and flickering gaze.
A hand was extended in front of Ren, and he wiped his own on his pants before grabbing it, steadying himself on the wall as well while standing up. He muttered a thank you under his breath. The slim man continued speaking, the words coming out a little too fast. All Ren could do was stare dumbfounded at the person in front of him.
“Oh, my gosh I do hope that you were not an online date or something. That would be really embarrassing. I would feel even more terrible then I already do. I hope I am not always this terrible at first impressions. I hate to sound forward, but before I make a larger fool of myself could you please clue me in if I should know you or not. It seems I took quite the bump to the back of the head and things are still quite hazy daisy."
“Date…? Know me… I, uh. I was here alone, but now there’s those two strangers and… Eh.” Ren scratched the back of his head. “I don’t know about any dates, sorry.” The words were coming out all wrong, and Ren cursed inwardly as he could feel a slight blush on his cheeks. His mouth was broken. That had to be the explanation for all this gibberish. Was this man mistaking him for somebody else? He had a tiny smile on his lips. Ren cleared his throat after staring a little too long, trying to compose himself before continuing.
“This was all my fault. I hope you are not hurt in any way. Let me buy you that drink you mentioned as an apology at the very least.” Taking a deep breath, Ren held the bathroom door open for the man, as they walked back into the venue. Leading the way to the booth where Marlin and Kei were still chatting awkwardly he could hear Kei talking.「I just kind of go about living life as the days come」 Ren sat down on the bench and scooted over, making room for the stranger. Marlin and Kei stopped talking and there were a few seconds of silence at the table. Eyes flittering about, awkward coughs or fidgeting with loose threads on shirt hems before Ren started. “I owe this guy a drink. Can I get you anything while I’m at it?” Ren had never been good at apologies, but he felt like this was a good way to start. Even though he wasn’t quite sure why he wanted to get on everybody’s good side today. | ℛen 𝒲hite
Age: 21
Appearance:
Height: 185 cm / 6’
Weight: 78 kg / 171 lbs
Likes: Coffee, lots of it. Drinking – he loves to forget all about who he is, but hates being vulnerable of spilling his thoughts to other people. Arguing, and being right.
Dislikes: Nosy people. Annoying people. People who think they’re better than him. Going to bed - Ren loves to sleep, but hates lying in bed alone with his thoughts.
Zodiac Sign: Scorpio. Birthday: November 1st.
Strengths: Resourceful, brave, passionate, stubborn, a true friend.
Weaknesses: Distrusting, jealous, secretive, violent.
Scorpio likes: Truth, facts, being right, longtime friends, teasing, a grand passion.
Scorpio dislikes: Dishonesty, revealing secrets, passive people.
Special Talent: Ren was taught to play the piano as a child, and is really good at it. Not that he wants anybody to know. He is also surprisingly good at dancing.
Profession: Studying to become a surgeon at the most prestigious university in the city.
Bio/Personality: Ren is the only child of a rich family. His father inherited a successful pharmaceutical company from his father again, earning them a fortune. Growing up in a big mansion Ren had lots of servants and maids around him, but rarely his parents - who were busy working. He has few friends and big time trust issues. He’s snarky, short tempered, grumpy and sulky when he doesn’t get his way. He’s smug, arrogant and believes himself to be better than most people. Secretly he just wants to be accepted for who he is instead of what he has and who his father is. He envies people who makes friends easy, and though he will never admit it he is drawn towards such people. Ren is struggling with his sexuality, not knowing what he identifies as. He tries to forget this by studying in most of his free time. As his father wanted, he’s in Med. School studying to become a surgeon, unsure of this is what he actually wants to do with his life.
Your character's favorite song: Written in the Water by Gin Wigmore. If you bring this up Ren will turn beet red and utterly deny ever having heard of the song.
______________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Tell us about yourself:
*Your age: 22.
*What part of the world are you from? Norway.
*How many years have you been writing/roleplaying:
I’ve never roleplayed on a forum like this before, but I used to roleplay a bit with people online back in the day when msn was a thing (Online chat, kind of like Skype), lol. It consisted primarily of speed posting, so writing paragraphs will be a welcoming challenge. I would exclusively do fandom based RP’s, so RP with OC’s is new territory for me as well. I think it’s more challenging to come up with the concept of a whole person instead of just writing about a character you’re already familiar with, but hey, still equally as fun.
*How often do you have time to post? I’ll start by saying 2-4 times a week, but the way things are right now I’ll probably check in every day.
*Anything else you want to mention? What you do for a living? How much do you work a week? What do you enjoy doing besides writing?
I just finished my bachelor’s degree as a kindergarten teacher, but didn’t feel like going into the work field just yet, so now I’m studying a master’s degree in pedagogy. Other hobbies include watching movies and tv series, creative stuff like needle felting, drawing/painting, strumming clumsily on my ukulele and singing (guitar is too hard for me, lol.), etc. I play video games to a certain degree, but the games I can play is limited due to sever motion sickness if it’s a first person kind of game (I’ll almost throw up after 30 minutes of games like Mass Effect or such… (ಠ‿ಠ’) ).
BTW: During winter here in Norway it gets dark most of the day. Right now, we get about 8 hours of sunlight a day, but it gets worse (ಥ_ಥ) Because of this most of us suffer from winter depressions, including me. Hooray ʘ‿ʘ. So if I get down in a funk and needs to step back from obligations I will give a heads up. I don’t think this will become likely right now, but maybe it will when I have exams on top of everything else. We’ll see (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ.
PS: Sorry for the emoticon abuse. I find them too funny sometimes （´・ω・ `）(send help). |
53,014 | 1,437 | 0 | 8 | 2,648 | Business was starting to pick up in Shizue's tea shop. An old man finished sipping his tea just before the evening crowd started to line up, as he often did. He had been a regular customer at her shop for about a month now, and came in almost every day at around the same time. One would assume that this was how he kept some semblance of a schedule now that he was, ostensibly, retired. He had always been cordial and friendly in the time he'd been a customer here, appearing to be nothing more than an ordinary but good-natured man. He stood up and approached the counter even though he had already paid and slid Shizue a white envelope. "Just a little something extra for you." he said. Before Shizue could object, he was already through the door. Not only was he surprisingly sprightly for a retiree, but he seemed to suddenly have a purpose that wasn't there before. It was as if he expected someone to begin pursuing him as soon as he left Shizue's shop.
Tikaani had always had a special connection with the spirit world, but it had never manifested itself quite like this. This may or may not have been the first time she had ever come to Republic City to visit the spirit forests located there, but this was the first time they had ever called to her like this. As soon as she came near the forest, she was sure felt something beckoning her further in, toward a point that was almost untread by other humans. A note fell out of the air for her to catch.
Kavi had recently returned from his travels, as he often did, to the Northern Air Temple. A friendly welcome awaited him there, as it always did. While the Air Nation had come a long way in the past decades, the Northern Air Temple was still the most populated and was regarded as being the most 'open' of the air temples, considering its history with outsiders. An envoy from the Order of the White Lotus was speaking with a monk near the entrance. This wasn't a terribly uncommon sight, and this member of the order had been here a few times before. They both noticed Kavi come in. "And you're sure he's the one you want to ask? There are masters here who would-" the monk said. "And I appreciate their offers," the envoy interjected, "but I have my reasons for not wanting them to put themselves on the line. Yes, I'm quite positive he's the person for the job." The envoy approached Kavi and said rather gravely, "Kavi of the air nomads, the Order of the White Lotus needs your help."
Republic city was still rife with crime, and while this was a problem many had come to accept, it meant opportunity for the likes of Virra Lin. He was responding to a bounty he'd pulled down from a wall, which instructed the reader to go to a local park near one of the spirit forests, of all places, for more information. When he arrived at the spot mentioned in the bounty notice, he met a man in sunglasses and a formal suit, rather strange for this type of meeting. When Lin told him why he was there, the man merely looked over him and said "You seem trustworthy enough. Take this, if you'd please." The man handed him a white envelope and then, in an almost ghost-like fashion, disappeared into the forest.
It had been an average day at Kieran's restaurant. The last of the lunch crowd had just cleared out, and things would be fairly slow for an hour before the dinner rush had him in the kitchen again. Kieran had been sent on an ingredient run as the restaurant was shorter on a few things than they had expected. As he went to put on his coat and head out the door, he could feel something in one of the pockets that hadn't been there before. Inside of his coat, there was an envelope.
Jalika had dealt with many different customers over the years since moving to the mothberry grove, so having someone approach her in her home wasn't terribly was strange. What was unusual was what this individual was wearing, a robe that, if it was real, would have marked him as a member of the Order of the White Lotus. He approached her and said "Jalika of the Air Nomads, the White Lotus needs you."
Sanrock had had a fairly normal day, and was practicing his shooting in a makeshift target range he'd set up in the wilderness outside the town where he lived. He was given pause when out of nowhere, someone hit a perfect bullseye on one of the targets he'd put up. He turned around to see an individual approach him. "Sanrock, the Order of the White Lotus and your people need your help."
Zayric had answered a personal ad he'd seen in the newspaper for parts he could use for his mechsuit, something fairly rare in and of itself but even moreso considering how cheap the prices being offered were. The person he'd met sold him the parts as promised, and when Zayric got home he noticed that an envelope had been neatly folded and placed inside one of the joints.
The bounty hunter known to most only as Stalker was sitting in a local bar which was frequented by his type. A rough looking black-haired woman with prominent facial scars took an adjoining bar stool and addressed him without turning her head in his direction. "If you want money, take this and do what it says." She spoke firmly but quickly. She got up and walked out of the bar, leaving an envelope next to the bounty hunter.
In the basement of the same bar, which if you asked about, the bartender would insist was only used to store supplies, a lone thief leaned against a wall after having been tipped that someone who had work for him wanted to meet him here. The same man who had been in Shizue's tea shop wordlessly entered the bar and handed the bartender an envelope, hidden between several large bills. The bartender casually said "Say no more, I'll be right back." He walked into the cellar where the thief was staying and handed him the envelope and some of the money, then grabbed a bottle which used to be filled with very expensive alcohol. He walked back upstairs and said "Clearly you're a man of discerning taste, this is the best stuff we've got." The old man took the bottle and left.
Inside each of the envelopes was a letter which was individually addressed to the respective recipient. Each letter read:
"We are contacting you in regards to a matter of the utmost urgency. We have witnessed your unique talents and are reaching out to you specifically in the hopes that you will respond to us in our most dire hour of need. Should you choose to aid us, we will pay you any price you ask to the greatest extent of our abilities, be it your weight in gold, a specific favor, or the knowledge that our organization is forever in your debt. If you have chosen to accept our request for help, come to the address listed below by midnight tonight. A representative from our organization will be in the basement of the building."
Each of these letters bore the symbol of the Order of the White Lotus.
The address was of an abandoned temple in a slum on the outskirts of the city. | Name: Real name unknown, goes by Cricket
Gender: Male
Bending ability if any: None
Birthplace: Somewhere in Republic City
Backstory: As far as anyone knows, Cricket has spent his entire life in the streets. He has been a thief since he was very young, and has learned the tricks of the trade mostly through trial and error. Over the years he's gained somewhat of a reputation for himself throughout Republic City's underworld as a reliable professional.
Items/weapons on person: A dagger, his lock picking equipment, and several bombs.
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
Weapon proficiency: Dagger (II)
Move silently (II)
Infiltration (II) |
53,015 | 1,437 | 1 | 905 | 2,479 | Mmmmm... Mothberry Grove, Jalika itnoned quietly. Her eyes left the man for now, and continued her task. She was picking the empty husks of spidermoth cocoons from the wildly overgrown berry trees. When she looked back up to see the man's perplexed expression, she expounded, in her accustomed halting slur, "Not a Nomad. Now I'm Jalika of the Mothberry Grove. What does the Lotus want with me?" She continued picking. Every once in a while, she would take a sip from a bottle, facing away from the man, but still very calculatedly within his view. | Name: Jalika
Age: 26
Bending ability if any: Air
Birthplace: Western Air Temple
Personality: Carries a lot of the introspection that is common in Air Nomads, but without their air of lightheartedness and fun. Her personality is a mish-mash of traits, both earnest and affected. She appears as a typical drunk, and yet is known to dispense wisdom to anyone who bothers to listen to her. She acts as if she is still grieving for her loss, but has turned her need to nurture on to others. With Jalika, nothing is, in its entirety, on the surface, and she is not easy to read.
Backstory (Optional):
Though traditionally nomadic, Jalika would have called the Western Air Temple home in her youth. She was born there, and it was usually where she would return between journeys. She was poised to complete her training and attain mastery of Air Bending, but was jolted from her normal life when her bison companion was killed for fur by poachers. In her despair, she ran from the Temple and isolated herself for nearly a year.
When she returned, the elder monks tried to use her friend's death as a teaching tool, warning her against earthly attachments. Rather than comfort her, Jalika was enraged by how little they regarded her loss. To her, it wasn't a mere physical loss, it was a spiritual one. On this note of disagreement, she left the order for good.
In the years to come, Jalika fell into a cycle of despondence and alcoholism. That is, until she came upon a mothberry grove, so called because the plants feed the infant worms of spider-moths. When she came upon the grove, she found that it was often beset by silk makers, who would take the cocoons, the metamorphosing worms still inside, and boil them down to take the silk, with little regard for the creature inside. Jalika chased the cloth makers away, and found new meaning living in the mothberry grove, protecting the moths' young from predators and poachers alike. Since she's taken up residence, the grove has grown large and wild. She takes the husks of the cocoons, after the moths have hatched, and spins it into her own wild silk, which she sells to the people of the Fire Nation nearby.
Items/weapons on person:
- A plethora of folding paper fans, mostly Fire Nation in origin.
- Usually just one bottle of wine
- A small flute
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
- Airbending Uses a style of her own invention, called the Crooked Breeze, that mimics the unsteady movements of the very intoxicated.
- Animal riding |
53,016 | 1,437 | 2 | 2,002 | 2,690 | At first all Zayric did was remove the joint obstruction and place it on a near by table, it was defiantly curious but at the moment he just wanted to fix up his suit and take it out for a spin. Eventually though his curiosity got the better of him and he stopped working to open the envelope and read the note within. "What kind of 'unique talents' do I ha-" but Zayric cut himself off when he remembered he had a mech suit in his possession. Zayric smiled a large grin and began to hurry up with his suit's adjustments so it would be ready by midnight tonight.
Soon midnight came and Zayric walked to the temple. It was a long walk but it was really the only non-conspicuous way of getting his armour there and it didn't take that much effort luckily since his suit did most of the work for him. Zayric entered the building and walked slowly towards the basement while looking in awe at the building around him. After some sight seeing he carefully made his way down the stairs into the basement of the temple. | Name: Zayric
Age: 24
Bending ability if any: None
Birthplace: Republic City
Backstory (Optional):
Items/weapons on person:
-Jury rigged Mecha suit- A salvaged Mecha suit which is better and worse than the original design. Only a few of the original functions still work such as the obvious defence and strength but it also still has the built in flamethrower. The suit is a lot more agile than the average suit thanks to some actual ingenuity, Zayric managed to upgrade his suit with move advanced machinery in the movement department. On the downside though, the suit has been repaired with more common metals, making parts of it vulnerable to metal-benders. Just for a little pizazz he has an especially viscous looking
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
Engineering(II), Charm(III), Hand-to-hand combat(I) |
53,017 | 1,437 | 3 | 78 | 8,915 | Shizue's eyebrow quirked as one of her recently regular customers approached the counter even though the elder had paid his bill. It made her think that perhaps he had a complaint or something important he wished to express with her, which seemed a little odd for this person. He wasn't usually one for much words, though he was always pleasantly friendly without such things. She didn't know much of what to expect from the retiree but a simple blank white envelope had not been it. Shizue had went to object, thinking it was some kind of extra money or tip that was too big to just leave, and she wasn't one just take hand outs, but he didn't even give her the chance. She didn't know one that advanced in years could move so fast and it had her leaning over the counter, calling out to him to wait but it fell on deaf ears as he continued onward. A light frown found its way onto her features, her eyes moving to the envelope in her hands and turning it to try to see if it had any indication to what was inside but even the seal was blank. It tickled her curiosity, her fingers were moving to break the seal only to be interrupted by the call of a customer which made her realize that the strange letter would have to wait.
Shizue made sure to place the letter aside in a safe place, keeping it on the back of her mind for later when the place was at a lull or when 'Panada Lily' was closed for the evening. | Name: Shizue
Bending ability if any: Waterbending, Healing
Birthplace: Northern Water Tribe
Age: 22
Backstory: Shizue spent her younger years in the Northern water tribe, learning from the best on how to heal and fight when she showed potential at waterbending. It seemed all was practically perfect, that is until her mother got really sick and no matter how much anyone tried it just wasn't getting better. Shizue even tried herself once when her mother was sleeping, hoping that maybe she could do it but it hadn't done anything. Her mother still faded away, smiling even in her last moments and telling her daughter to stay the strong smiling girl she loved. Asking her to watch out for her father since he would need his little girl more than ever. It left an empty feeling in her heart but she didn't let it get her down, fighting to stay happy and strong for her dad. Her father on the other hand felt like they needed to get away, away from the place where he could see his wife in every person and every turn. He thought about joining his sister in the Southern Water Tribe but decided against it, having a feeling even their he would be haunted with the memory so instead he went to Republic City to start a new life. He opened up a little tea shop called 'Panda Lily' and it seemed that they could get along now.
Shizue kept up her waterbending on her own when ever she could, only waiting till she was in her teen years to explore other regions of the world and working as a Hunteress (Selling whatever she caught) to live. It took her all over but she always came back to visit her father, telling him stories of her travels. It sadly became a perminate stay when her father was murdered, the shop and the place above it suddenly becoming her own. Shizue couldn't bring herself to get rid of the place he worked so hard to make and the only home she mostly remembered. The business thrived under her care, some even giving her silly nicknames like 'Tea Goddess' thanks to her special secret brews. It seemed she always had something for the right occasion
Items/weapons on person: Bow/Arrows and Daggers, Backpack (Filled with essential items), Water pouch
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
Waterbending/Healing (III)
Carried Weapons (II)
Acrobatics (I)
Other:
Shizue found this little guy in kind of a horrible way. She was hunting, trying to practice a better aim along with the fact she was tired of having fish everyday since she wasn't having much luck with anything else. It was the first time out on her own and there was no way she was going back so soon. She would be a failure in her eyes. It was then that she saw it,a large Addapard, it being occupied by what she assumed was a fresh kill or maybe even grazing so she took her shoot. Shizue rushed over in excitement but then felt her heart drop at what the beasts attention had been on. A small cub, its eyes not even open. Shizue felt like she might be sick, not even being able to look at the kill she had just made and not feeling right about eating the creature now. She carefully scooped up the cub, taking it with her and taking care of the poor boy by being its mother. Mitsuru is now her only companion. |
53,018 | 1,437 | 4 | 8 | 2,648 | Excuse me. the White Lotus member said in response to Jalika correcting him. "There's a situation in Republic City. A rather urgent one, actually. I suppose you could say I'm something like a talent scout, and the type of talent I'm looking for needs to be capable of handling danger. Please don't take this the wrong way, but the Order has been... made aware that you fit the bill." The order's representative paused to see how Jalika would take what he'd said. He was clearly a bit anxious, but spoke clearly. "I realize that's not exactly a thorough explanation, but please understand, there's only so much information I can give you. I'm more than willing to answer any questions you may have, if you're interested." | Name: Real name unknown, goes by Cricket
Gender: Male
Bending ability if any: None
Birthplace: Somewhere in Republic City
Backstory: As far as anyone knows, Cricket has spent his entire life in the streets. He has been a thief since he was very young, and has learned the tricks of the trade mostly through trial and error. Over the years he's gained somewhat of a reputation for himself throughout Republic City's underworld as a reliable professional.
Items/weapons on person: A dagger, his lock picking equipment, and several bombs.
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
Weapon proficiency: Dagger (II)
Move silently (II)
Infiltration (II) |
53,019 | 1,437 | 5 | 905 | 2,479 | She wiped her mouth as she slipped the ceramic flask back into a pocket of her loose fitting robe. "You think I have a talent. A dangerous one. This is a joke? Who did you speak to?" | Name: Jalika
Age: 26
Bending ability if any: Air
Birthplace: Western Air Temple
Personality: Carries a lot of the introspection that is common in Air Nomads, but without their air of lightheartedness and fun. Her personality is a mish-mash of traits, both earnest and affected. She appears as a typical drunk, and yet is known to dispense wisdom to anyone who bothers to listen to her. She acts as if she is still grieving for her loss, but has turned her need to nurture on to others. With Jalika, nothing is, in its entirety, on the surface, and she is not easy to read.
Backstory (Optional):
Though traditionally nomadic, Jalika would have called the Western Air Temple home in her youth. She was born there, and it was usually where she would return between journeys. She was poised to complete her training and attain mastery of Air Bending, but was jolted from her normal life when her bison companion was killed for fur by poachers. In her despair, she ran from the Temple and isolated herself for nearly a year.
When she returned, the elder monks tried to use her friend's death as a teaching tool, warning her against earthly attachments. Rather than comfort her, Jalika was enraged by how little they regarded her loss. To her, it wasn't a mere physical loss, it was a spiritual one. On this note of disagreement, she left the order for good.
In the years to come, Jalika fell into a cycle of despondence and alcoholism. That is, until she came upon a mothberry grove, so called because the plants feed the infant worms of spider-moths. When she came upon the grove, she found that it was often beset by silk makers, who would take the cocoons, the metamorphosing worms still inside, and boil them down to take the silk, with little regard for the creature inside. Jalika chased the cloth makers away, and found new meaning living in the mothberry grove, protecting the moths' young from predators and poachers alike. Since she's taken up residence, the grove has grown large and wild. She takes the husks of the cocoons, after the moths have hatched, and spins it into her own wild silk, which she sells to the people of the Fire Nation nearby.
Items/weapons on person:
- A plethora of folding paper fans, mostly Fire Nation in origin.
- Usually just one bottle of wine
- A small flute
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
- Airbending Uses a style of her own invention, called the Crooked Breeze, that mimics the unsteady movements of the very intoxicated.
- Animal riding |
53,020 | 1,437 | 6 | 2,430 | 441 | Tikaani read the note over several times. She thought she recognized the symbol on the paper, but it didn't quite come to her mind at the moment. Sighing that the spirits would have to wait, she mounted Siku, her polar leopard. She patted Siku on her head, making her let out a little squeaky roar. "Come on Siku, someone has summoned us."
Tikanni led Siku through the city to the outskirts. She was use to getting strange looks because of Siku, but she didn't mind. Neither did Siku. She loved the attention. They stopped at the edge of the temple. | Kieran Jong | 23 | Earth
Birthplace: Republic City
Backstory (Optional): Kieran was born in Republic City to an earthbending mother and a nonbending, water tribe native father. He grew up with a decent life, his father worked as a chef and his mother was a police officer. Kieran himself got into the normal amount of mischief as a kid, of course his mother's status as an officer kept him on the right side of the law most of the time. As he got into his teens, he dabbled in the pro-bending leagues, winning enough money to get him by. Recently, he took up a job at the restaurant his dad works at as a sous chef. His mother is working on enrolling him in the police academy, but lacking the money for the upfront costs, Kieran has decided to work alongside his father for now to save up the money.
Items/weapons on person: An engraved sabre fang from the northern water tribe, given by his father. Some change. A metal wire spool similar to what the police force uses, modified to be hidden underneath sleeves.
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
Earthbending (IIII)
Metalbending (II) |
53,021 | 1,437 | 7 | 1,918 | 8,262 | Kavi
Kavi smiled, giving a bow to the man before following him and the monk he was speaking to into the temple. Unlike the other monks, Kavi's robes were colored in shades of red and black, to represent his fire nation roots, or so that was what the monks had told him. In actuality, Kavi just never really fit in with the more traditional styles of the Air Nomads, and they some felt a bot of resentment towards him as a result. While Kavi normally didn't care much about this, there were times where it became painfully obvious how much certain individuals wanted nothing to do with him, and it did weigh on his mind.
What am I doing feeling so glum, cheer up already! You're getting a mission from a member of the White Lotus, how awesome is that?!?! This is a happy day, and thus, it requires a happy face. Now suck it up and don't embarrass yourself.
Kavi lightly slapped himself in the face, shaking his head a little afterwards before the group finally made it to a secure room. Once there, the White Lotus member told her everything she needed to know about the mission, which was admittedly very little but that didn't matter. It was more than enough to catch Kavi's interest and they were nodding like crazy half way in. The man was confused by the lack of verbal affirmation, only for the monk to quickly chime in that Kavi was seemingly mute, having been unable to speak for a long time, even though from what healers could tell, nothing is wrong with them medically. The man nodded in understanding, turning to address Kavi only to fine them gone, having fled from the room as soon as attention had been lifted from him.
Soon, the cry of a Sky Bison could be heard, as well as the cries of a very drowsy and unhappy Rasharna as he was dragged off by Kavi to partake in one of his least favorite activites. The man chuckled a bit at the boy's enthusiasm while the monk beside him simply sighed. | Name: Tikaani
Age: 23
Bending ability if any: Water
Birthplace: Southern Water Tribe
Backstory (Optional): Tikaani was born and raised in the Southern Water Tribe but she felt that she was called by the spirits. So at the of 15, Tikaani began to wonder the world, searching for Spirit sensitive areas. by far her favorite place is the spirit oasis. She wonders, visiting cities and villages to learn ways to connect with the spirit realm. She promotes peace between all benders and peace between spirits and humans. Tikaani travels with her polar leopard, Siku, who is quite gentle and friendly, who she uses as company and transportation.
Items/weapons on person: A waterskin she carries everywhere.
camping supplies and rations for travel, usually carried by Siku.
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
-Waterbending(III)
+Traditional waterbending techniques
+Can use octopus form(advanced)
-Spiritual Meditation(II)
+She is able to meditate and enter the spirit realm for a short time at places that are closely connected to the spirit realm.
+She can detect auras
-Healing(I) |
53,022 | 1,437 | 8 | 8 | 2,648 | The White Lotus representative was slightly shaken at Jalika's question. "We may not be the organization we once were, but we still have eyes and ears in more than a few places, you see. Please understand, while we would never spy, per se, when we're in serious need of new members, we have our ways. We're aware that you've been single-handedly protecting this grove, and for quite some time no less. That is no small feat. Your reputation is what led us to reach out to you."
The White Lotus member who had been sent after Kavi rushed after him and handed him the address and instructions on how to get there. As he took off, he shouted "And whatever you do, make sure you don't tell anybody we sent you!"
The thief made his way to the part of town where the temple was supposed to be. It was too bad that a temple here had been forced to shut down, as it seemed as if this part of the city could have sorely used whatever charity it had to offer. The buildings were shoddily made and looked old and decrepit despite this being a relatively new part of the city. Everything was dirty. This was none of the thief's concern, however. He stuck to the shadows and slowly moved towards the temple, avoiding open places where he might be seen. The people of a community like this were probably used to his kind, and the law most likely wouldn't come to this part of town quickly if his presence were reported, but he didn't want to take any risks. He used homes with no lights on, which were situated away from the main street as his cover. The lack of light kept him unseen until he reached the temple. As he came within view of it, he saw that someone was already there, a woman riding a large animal. This was a good sign, but he didn't want to be seen yet. He turned back and moved into the shadows again, this time moving for the small wooded area that was just behind the temple. He moved behind the trees and reached the back of the temple where, thankfully for him, there was a back door which was well out of anyone's eyesight. He walked in and, instead of going into the basement, walked directly to the front door.
From inside of the temple, Tikaani could hear a voice. "Did someone claiming to be the White Lotus contact you as well?" it asked. | Name: Real name unknown, goes by Cricket
Gender: Male
Bending ability if any: None
Birthplace: Somewhere in Republic City
Backstory: As far as anyone knows, Cricket has spent his entire life in the streets. He has been a thief since he was very young, and has learned the tricks of the trade mostly through trial and error. Over the years he's gained somewhat of a reputation for himself throughout Republic City's underworld as a reliable professional.
Items/weapons on person: A dagger, his lock picking equipment, and several bombs.
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
Weapon proficiency: Dagger (II)
Move silently (II)
Infiltration (II) |
53,023 | 1,437 | 9 | 2,002 | 2,690 | Tikaani unmounted Siku and took a few steps toward the voice. She felt a shiver go down her spine from the ominous person, but ignored the feeling. Bowing her head slightly in greeting, she replied, "Yes. I was called by the White Lotus here and I am here to answer that call." Tikaani raised her head back up. Siku growled softly and rolled over onto her back lazily. | Name: Zayric
Age: 24
Bending ability if any: None
Birthplace: Republic City
Backstory (Optional):
Items/weapons on person:
-Jury rigged Mecha suit- A salvaged Mecha suit which is better and worse than the original design. Only a few of the original functions still work such as the obvious defence and strength but it also still has the built in flamethrower. The suit is a lot more agile than the average suit thanks to some actual ingenuity, Zayric managed to upgrade his suit with move advanced machinery in the movement department. On the downside though, the suit has been repaired with more common metals, making parts of it vulnerable to metal-benders. Just for a little pizazz he has an especially viscous looking
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
Engineering(II), Charm(III), Hand-to-hand combat(I) |
53,024 | 1,437 | 10 | 8 | 2,648 | For a brief moment the thief was startled by the noise. His dark clothing and the fact that there was almost no light to speak of helped keep him hidden, but there was nothing here to hide behind. "I received the same invitation you apparently did, yes." the thief replied to Zayric. He opened the door just slightly and peered out. He decided that Tikaani and her animal didn't look particularly dangerous and opened the door completely. "Come in. The fact that we're meeting in a place like this is a strong indicator that they don't want us standing out in the open." | Name: Real name unknown, goes by Cricket
Gender: Male
Bending ability if any: None
Birthplace: Somewhere in Republic City
Backstory: As far as anyone knows, Cricket has spent his entire life in the streets. He has been a thief since he was very young, and has learned the tricks of the trade mostly through trial and error. Over the years he's gained somewhat of a reputation for himself throughout Republic City's underworld as a reliable professional.
Items/weapons on person: A dagger, his lock picking equipment, and several bombs.
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
Weapon proficiency: Dagger (II)
Move silently (II)
Infiltration (II) |
53,025 | 1,437 | 11 | 2,189 | 1,024 | Tikaani nudged Siku, making the lazy cat get back up with a staunch huff. She motioned for her to follow as they entered the temple. She looked around and saw that there were two people. "Hello." Siku walked over to Zayric and the big cat started to sniff him all over. Tikaani smiled and crossed her arms. "Looks like Siku made a new friend." Siku purred and licked Zayric's face. | Name: Sanrock, often shortened to San
Age: 26
Bending ability if any: Knows very basic Earthbending techniques, other than that nothing.
Birthplace: Earth Kingdom
Appearance: Ground control to Major Tom. Wears this outfit, but without the skull shoulderguard.
Personality: Will be added later.
Backstory: Will be added later.
Items/weapons on person:
This rifle. It is capable of holding three rounds
Twenty-one rounds for rifle
This derringer. It can only hold one bullet, and takes half an hour to reload (can be done faster with a very expensive tool, however, but then it takes ten minutes)
Three bullets for derringer
Clothing
Goggles
Twelve yuan
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
Marksmanship (III)
Engineering (II)
Earthbending (I) |
53,026 | 1,437 | 12 | 78 | 8,915 | Shizue waved her last customer goodbye, closing up the shop with a soft sigh and slowly started cleaning up the place alone since she had sent her helpers home long ago. She didn't mind the work but sometimes she wished that her father was still around, the two of them laughing and joking at the end of a long days work, well at least when she was here. It had come to her attention many times that her not being here enough was her biggest regret since she had stupidly believed he would always be here or at least be around for a long time. She knew life was not always fair so why had she thought traveling was a good idea? Well, she knew why and she couldn't really say she hadn't wanted to do it again. She missed the open air and riding with Mitsuru through unknown places or even in areas no one dared go but she would not let go of this place. Many offers had been made to buy the place but she didn't trust them with her father's baby that he built from the ground up and the only people she did trust to take it refused to keep it. They were willing to help but they didn't want to own what they knew should stay hers.
What should I even do? she thought to herself, tidying the back counter for the next day when her hand brushed up against an envelope. Shizue frowned, wondering what on earth something like that was doing there until a light of recognition appeared in her eyes at the strange thing. She had almost completely forgot about the elders mysterious blank envelope and now she had no distractions of the day to stop her from seeing just what he had given to her. The letter inside had not been what she expected at all and even more so...did she want to go? Was this some kind of trick? Why would they want her? The man didn't seem like the kind to set her up so should she give it a try? It could be worth it.
She spent hours mulling over the idea and she had finally come to a conclusion as she prepared for anything that might happen. Shizue set up someone to run the shop tomorrow, packed as if she were going on a trip and pulled on her weapons to be prepared if attacked. Once everything was set and locked up, she moved to the back of her home and smiled at the Addapard grazing there. Mitsuru poked his head up, moving over to Shizue to place his face against her own with a strange like purr coming from his chest. She giggled, rubbing his neck before kissing his nose and spoke to the animal before her as if talking to another being."We have somewhere to go and I have a feeling your not going to like it." she replied as she watched his ears go back and they down so she could get them ready for the trip. Of course she was now going to deal with the boy pouting the whole trip and being on the defensive around her so she pitied the one who tried to attack her. She saddled him up, adding the packs to his holders before gracefully climbing on as Mitsuru stood. He jumped over the fence, dashing off into the night with Shizue leading him in the direction to the temple. It was not long before they arrived, others already gathered near the entrance and she wondered if they too had gotten the same letter or if they were a part of this. Well, at least I am not the first or only to arrive or I might have been nervous." Shizue stated before hopping off her ride and carefully petting the others fur to keep him calm. Mitsuru let her calm him a bit before he moved away from her side, headed for a place to lay down or hide till she returned for him once more but his ears stayed perked and on high alert. | Name: Shizue
Bending ability if any: Waterbending, Healing
Birthplace: Northern Water Tribe
Age: 22
Backstory: Shizue spent her younger years in the Northern water tribe, learning from the best on how to heal and fight when she showed potential at waterbending. It seemed all was practically perfect, that is until her mother got really sick and no matter how much anyone tried it just wasn't getting better. Shizue even tried herself once when her mother was sleeping, hoping that maybe she could do it but it hadn't done anything. Her mother still faded away, smiling even in her last moments and telling her daughter to stay the strong smiling girl she loved. Asking her to watch out for her father since he would need his little girl more than ever. It left an empty feeling in her heart but she didn't let it get her down, fighting to stay happy and strong for her dad. Her father on the other hand felt like they needed to get away, away from the place where he could see his wife in every person and every turn. He thought about joining his sister in the Southern Water Tribe but decided against it, having a feeling even their he would be haunted with the memory so instead he went to Republic City to start a new life. He opened up a little tea shop called 'Panda Lily' and it seemed that they could get along now.
Shizue kept up her waterbending on her own when ever she could, only waiting till she was in her teen years to explore other regions of the world and working as a Hunteress (Selling whatever she caught) to live. It took her all over but she always came back to visit her father, telling him stories of her travels. It sadly became a perminate stay when her father was murdered, the shop and the place above it suddenly becoming her own. Shizue couldn't bring herself to get rid of the place he worked so hard to make and the only home she mostly remembered. The business thrived under her care, some even giving her silly nicknames like 'Tea Goddess' thanks to her special secret brews. It seemed she always had something for the right occasion
Items/weapons on person: Bow/Arrows and Daggers, Backpack (Filled with essential items), Water pouch
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
Waterbending/Healing (III)
Carried Weapons (II)
Acrobatics (I)
Other:
Shizue found this little guy in kind of a horrible way. She was hunting, trying to practice a better aim along with the fact she was tired of having fish everyday since she wasn't having much luck with anything else. It was the first time out on her own and there was no way she was going back so soon. She would be a failure in her eyes. It was then that she saw it,a large Addapard, it being occupied by what she assumed was a fresh kill or maybe even grazing so she took her shoot. Shizue rushed over in excitement but then felt her heart drop at what the beasts attention had been on. A small cub, its eyes not even open. Shizue felt like she might be sick, not even being able to look at the kill she had just made and not feeling right about eating the creature now. She carefully scooped up the cub, taking it with her and taking care of the poor boy by being its mother. Mitsuru is now her only companion. |
53,027 | 1,437 | 13 | 2,002 | 2,690 | Zayric laughed a bit as the animal before him licked his face. He loved animals but he had never gotten one of his own since he didn't think he was up for that kind of responsibility but that didn't mean he didn't still wish he had one. "So what are your names? Not much use sitting around here and just calling each other mister and misses" Zayric asked as he gave Siku a pet with his suit's hand. | Name: Zayric
Age: 24
Bending ability if any: None
Birthplace: Republic City
Backstory (Optional):
Items/weapons on person:
-Jury rigged Mecha suit- A salvaged Mecha suit which is better and worse than the original design. Only a few of the original functions still work such as the obvious defence and strength but it also still has the built in flamethrower. The suit is a lot more agile than the average suit thanks to some actual ingenuity, Zayric managed to upgrade his suit with move advanced machinery in the movement department. On the downside though, the suit has been repaired with more common metals, making parts of it vulnerable to metal-benders. Just for a little pizazz he has an especially viscous looking
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
Engineering(II), Charm(III), Hand-to-hand combat(I) |
53,028 | 1,437 | 14 | 905 | 2,479 | Tikaani smiled and crossed and placed her hands on her hips. "Well. That's Siku." Siku purred at her name and nuzzled more against Zayric. "And now you will always be your friend."Tikanni laughed and walked over to them. "I'm Tikaani. What's your name?" She patted Siku on the back, making her back off of him. | Name: Jalika
Age: 26
Bending ability if any: Air
Birthplace: Western Air Temple
Personality: Carries a lot of the introspection that is common in Air Nomads, but without their air of lightheartedness and fun. Her personality is a mish-mash of traits, both earnest and affected. She appears as a typical drunk, and yet is known to dispense wisdom to anyone who bothers to listen to her. She acts as if she is still grieving for her loss, but has turned her need to nurture on to others. With Jalika, nothing is, in its entirety, on the surface, and she is not easy to read.
Backstory (Optional):
Though traditionally nomadic, Jalika would have called the Western Air Temple home in her youth. She was born there, and it was usually where she would return between journeys. She was poised to complete her training and attain mastery of Air Bending, but was jolted from her normal life when her bison companion was killed for fur by poachers. In her despair, she ran from the Temple and isolated herself for nearly a year.
When she returned, the elder monks tried to use her friend's death as a teaching tool, warning her against earthly attachments. Rather than comfort her, Jalika was enraged by how little they regarded her loss. To her, it wasn't a mere physical loss, it was a spiritual one. On this note of disagreement, she left the order for good.
In the years to come, Jalika fell into a cycle of despondence and alcoholism. That is, until she came upon a mothberry grove, so called because the plants feed the infant worms of spider-moths. When she came upon the grove, she found that it was often beset by silk makers, who would take the cocoons, the metamorphosing worms still inside, and boil them down to take the silk, with little regard for the creature inside. Jalika chased the cloth makers away, and found new meaning living in the mothberry grove, protecting the moths' young from predators and poachers alike. Since she's taken up residence, the grove has grown large and wild. She takes the husks of the cocoons, after the moths have hatched, and spins it into her own wild silk, which she sells to the people of the Fire Nation nearby.
Items/weapons on person:
- A plethora of folding paper fans, mostly Fire Nation in origin.
- Usually just one bottle of wine
- A small flute
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
- Airbending Uses a style of her own invention, called the Crooked Breeze, that mimics the unsteady movements of the very intoxicated.
- Animal riding |
53,029 | 1,437 | 15 | 8 | 2,648 | I'm not supposed to tell you too much. the gunman said to Sanrock. "Only that they could use you in Republic City for a matter of great importance, and soon. I've been instructed to secure your entry into the city and tell you where to go, should you accept."
"Cricket." the thief said plainly in response to Zayric. He cracked the door once again to see what the noise coming from outside was and spotted a young woman with a riding animal he didn't recognize. "If you're here because the White Lotus contacted you, I suggest you come in before you draw attention to your presence."
"Yes, naturally." the Lotus member said to Jalika. "I've been instructed to provide you with both a ride to the border and a ferry into the city, although I won't be able to accompany you for the latter. Are you ready to go?" | Name: Real name unknown, goes by Cricket
Gender: Male
Bending ability if any: None
Birthplace: Somewhere in Republic City
Backstory: As far as anyone knows, Cricket has spent his entire life in the streets. He has been a thief since he was very young, and has learned the tricks of the trade mostly through trial and error. Over the years he's gained somewhat of a reputation for himself throughout Republic City's underworld as a reliable professional.
Items/weapons on person: A dagger, his lock picking equipment, and several bombs.
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
Weapon proficiency: Dagger (II)
Move silently (II)
Infiltration (II) |
53,030 | 1,437 | 16 | 905 | 2,479 | She did not answer immediately, instead, Jalika selected a spot in the overgrown mothberry and thrust her arm all the way to the shoulder into the thicket. There was a moment of struggle, a slurred and indistinct curse, and when she pulled her hand free she had a traditional airbender's staff. She leaned on it as if she couldn't stand on her own, despite the fact that she had been just fine a moment ago, and then gestured to the Lotus agent. "Le's go."
~~~
One journey later, complete with quite dramatically losing her lunch over the side of the ferry, and Jalika was in the right neighborhood. She stumbled through the streets, and seemed to decide on the abandoned she entered entirely at random. She noticed another person on the otherwise empty streets, riding an animal she thought, though all of her assumptions were based on air movement over her skin. Someone inside the meeting place noticed either the other person, or Jalika, and stepped out to ask if they were summoned by the Lotus.
"They did," she said, and slipped past him before she could be questioned further. | Name: Jalika
Age: 26
Bending ability if any: Air
Birthplace: Western Air Temple
Personality: Carries a lot of the introspection that is common in Air Nomads, but without their air of lightheartedness and fun. Her personality is a mish-mash of traits, both earnest and affected. She appears as a typical drunk, and yet is known to dispense wisdom to anyone who bothers to listen to her. She acts as if she is still grieving for her loss, but has turned her need to nurture on to others. With Jalika, nothing is, in its entirety, on the surface, and she is not easy to read.
Backstory (Optional):
Though traditionally nomadic, Jalika would have called the Western Air Temple home in her youth. She was born there, and it was usually where she would return between journeys. She was poised to complete her training and attain mastery of Air Bending, but was jolted from her normal life when her bison companion was killed for fur by poachers. In her despair, she ran from the Temple and isolated herself for nearly a year.
When she returned, the elder monks tried to use her friend's death as a teaching tool, warning her against earthly attachments. Rather than comfort her, Jalika was enraged by how little they regarded her loss. To her, it wasn't a mere physical loss, it was a spiritual one. On this note of disagreement, she left the order for good.
In the years to come, Jalika fell into a cycle of despondence and alcoholism. That is, until she came upon a mothberry grove, so called because the plants feed the infant worms of spider-moths. When she came upon the grove, she found that it was often beset by silk makers, who would take the cocoons, the metamorphosing worms still inside, and boil them down to take the silk, with little regard for the creature inside. Jalika chased the cloth makers away, and found new meaning living in the mothberry grove, protecting the moths' young from predators and poachers alike. Since she's taken up residence, the grove has grown large and wild. She takes the husks of the cocoons, after the moths have hatched, and spins it into her own wild silk, which she sells to the people of the Fire Nation nearby.
Items/weapons on person:
- A plethora of folding paper fans, mostly Fire Nation in origin.
- Usually just one bottle of wine
- A small flute
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
- Airbending Uses a style of her own invention, called the Crooked Breeze, that mimics the unsteady movements of the very intoxicated.
- Animal riding |
53,031 | 1,437 | 17 | 2,002 | 2,690 | The name's Zayric. Its nice to meet you Tikanni, Cricket and Siku. Zayric said said with a smile as he looked over the group now inhabiting the temple. By the sounds coming from outside and Cricket's own actions it seemed that others were about to join them but before that happened Zayric put his suit into a sitting position and locked the legs up making it essentially a overcomplicated chair. | Name: Zayric
Age: 24
Bending ability if any: None
Birthplace: Republic City
Backstory (Optional):
Items/weapons on person:
-Jury rigged Mecha suit- A salvaged Mecha suit which is better and worse than the original design. Only a few of the original functions still work such as the obvious defence and strength but it also still has the built in flamethrower. The suit is a lot more agile than the average suit thanks to some actual ingenuity, Zayric managed to upgrade his suit with move advanced machinery in the movement department. On the downside though, the suit has been repaired with more common metals, making parts of it vulnerable to metal-benders. Just for a little pizazz he has an especially viscous looking
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
Engineering(II), Charm(III), Hand-to-hand combat(I) |
53,032 | 1,437 | 18 | 8 | 2,648 | Cricket nodded at Zayric but didn't say anything, he wasn't really much for niceties. After letting the two in, Cricket turned to Jalika. The only reason he hadn't gone straight to the basement yet was because he didn't want to be the first one down the on the chance that this was a setup. "If you're heading down, lead the way." he said. | Name: Real name unknown, goes by Cricket
Gender: Male
Bending ability if any: None
Birthplace: Somewhere in Republic City
Backstory: As far as anyone knows, Cricket has spent his entire life in the streets. He has been a thief since he was very young, and has learned the tricks of the trade mostly through trial and error. Over the years he's gained somewhat of a reputation for himself throughout Republic City's underworld as a reliable professional.
Items/weapons on person: A dagger, his lock picking equipment, and several bombs.
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
Weapon proficiency: Dagger (II)
Move silently (II)
Infiltration (II) |
53,033 | 1,437 | 19 | 78 | 8,915 | Shizue felt a bit awkward as she stepped in, going completely unnoticed except for the male which she caught was named Cricket as he was the one that told her to come in. She didn't feel like interrupting everyone by introducing herself if she had barely been noticed so she stayed silent and hoped that this wasn't some huge trap that they were all being lead to. Shizue took a deep breath, stepping up to the staircase that lead into the basement and stared down into its depths. After all, someone had to be first so why not? She looked to Cricket as he spoke up, smiling a bit before shrugging and heading on down. They could follow if they wanted or if this was a trap than at least they could get out even if she didn't. "Here we go then." | Name: Shizue
Bending ability if any: Waterbending, Healing
Birthplace: Northern Water Tribe
Age: 22
Backstory: Shizue spent her younger years in the Northern water tribe, learning from the best on how to heal and fight when she showed potential at waterbending. It seemed all was practically perfect, that is until her mother got really sick and no matter how much anyone tried it just wasn't getting better. Shizue even tried herself once when her mother was sleeping, hoping that maybe she could do it but it hadn't done anything. Her mother still faded away, smiling even in her last moments and telling her daughter to stay the strong smiling girl she loved. Asking her to watch out for her father since he would need his little girl more than ever. It left an empty feeling in her heart but she didn't let it get her down, fighting to stay happy and strong for her dad. Her father on the other hand felt like they needed to get away, away from the place where he could see his wife in every person and every turn. He thought about joining his sister in the Southern Water Tribe but decided against it, having a feeling even their he would be haunted with the memory so instead he went to Republic City to start a new life. He opened up a little tea shop called 'Panda Lily' and it seemed that they could get along now.
Shizue kept up her waterbending on her own when ever she could, only waiting till she was in her teen years to explore other regions of the world and working as a Hunteress (Selling whatever she caught) to live. It took her all over but she always came back to visit her father, telling him stories of her travels. It sadly became a perminate stay when her father was murdered, the shop and the place above it suddenly becoming her own. Shizue couldn't bring herself to get rid of the place he worked so hard to make and the only home she mostly remembered. The business thrived under her care, some even giving her silly nicknames like 'Tea Goddess' thanks to her special secret brews. It seemed she always had something for the right occasion
Items/weapons on person: Bow/Arrows and Daggers, Backpack (Filled with essential items), Water pouch
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
Waterbending/Healing (III)
Carried Weapons (II)
Acrobatics (I)
Other:
Shizue found this little guy in kind of a horrible way. She was hunting, trying to practice a better aim along with the fact she was tired of having fish everyday since she wasn't having much luck with anything else. It was the first time out on her own and there was no way she was going back so soon. She would be a failure in her eyes. It was then that she saw it,a large Addapard, it being occupied by what she assumed was a fresh kill or maybe even grazing so she took her shoot. Shizue rushed over in excitement but then felt her heart drop at what the beasts attention had been on. A small cub, its eyes not even open. Shizue felt like she might be sick, not even being able to look at the kill she had just made and not feeling right about eating the creature now. She carefully scooped up the cub, taking it with her and taking care of the poor boy by being its mother. Mitsuru is now her only companion. |
53,034 | 1,437 | 20 | 905 | 2,479 | There were more people here than Jalika had expected. Though, he had nvwr had much to go on to form expectations in the first place. She made no effort to introduce herself, and simply followed behind the girl who took it upon herself to be first to go down. | Name: Jalika
Age: 26
Bending ability if any: Air
Birthplace: Western Air Temple
Personality: Carries a lot of the introspection that is common in Air Nomads, but without their air of lightheartedness and fun. Her personality is a mish-mash of traits, both earnest and affected. She appears as a typical drunk, and yet is known to dispense wisdom to anyone who bothers to listen to her. She acts as if she is still grieving for her loss, but has turned her need to nurture on to others. With Jalika, nothing is, in its entirety, on the surface, and she is not easy to read.
Backstory (Optional):
Though traditionally nomadic, Jalika would have called the Western Air Temple home in her youth. She was born there, and it was usually where she would return between journeys. She was poised to complete her training and attain mastery of Air Bending, but was jolted from her normal life when her bison companion was killed for fur by poachers. In her despair, she ran from the Temple and isolated herself for nearly a year.
When she returned, the elder monks tried to use her friend's death as a teaching tool, warning her against earthly attachments. Rather than comfort her, Jalika was enraged by how little they regarded her loss. To her, it wasn't a mere physical loss, it was a spiritual one. On this note of disagreement, she left the order for good.
In the years to come, Jalika fell into a cycle of despondence and alcoholism. That is, until she came upon a mothberry grove, so called because the plants feed the infant worms of spider-moths. When she came upon the grove, she found that it was often beset by silk makers, who would take the cocoons, the metamorphosing worms still inside, and boil them down to take the silk, with little regard for the creature inside. Jalika chased the cloth makers away, and found new meaning living in the mothberry grove, protecting the moths' young from predators and poachers alike. Since she's taken up residence, the grove has grown large and wild. She takes the husks of the cocoons, after the moths have hatched, and spins it into her own wild silk, which she sells to the people of the Fire Nation nearby.
Items/weapons on person:
- A plethora of folding paper fans, mostly Fire Nation in origin.
- Usually just one bottle of wine
- A small flute
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
- Airbending Uses a style of her own invention, called the Crooked Breeze, that mimics the unsteady movements of the very intoxicated.
- Animal riding |
53,035 | 1,437 | 21 | 276 | 729 | This city is huge. Tanno said to herself as she walked down the street. All around her, the buildings were large but compact. There was metal everywhere, including on the police force, which she saw chasing a young boy through the streets. With precise aim, Tanno lifted a small brick right in front of the boy's foot, causing him to tumble and roll, allowing the police to catch him. By the time they had noticed the raised brick, Tanno was gone from the scene. "I need to find a hotel." she said with a yawn. "Sleeping on the ground isn't good for me."
Tanno hadn't noticed the man following her from a distance. He had seen her precise bending and knew she was going to be a good addition.
Unable to find a hotel on her own, she began trying to ask people that passed her, though nobody would stop and listen. "Sir, could you-... Ma'am, would you-... Excuse me, sirs-..." It went on for a few minutes before one man finally did stop. "Could you tell me where a hotel is?" Instead of answering, he handed her an envelope. "Is this a map?" she asked, but when she looked up, he was already gone. With a shrug, she opened the envelope, reading the message inside. It told her where to go though she didn't really know where that was.
After a couple more hours of traveling, she arrived at the building and proceeded to enter rather loudly. When questioned about the entrance, she held up the envelope with the White Lotus emblem. The motioned her through to the others, who seemed to be standing in front of a downward staircase.
Tanno eyed the staircase with a frown, moving past everyone to look it over. Despite being very tired, she knew they were a bit afraid of traps. "Hold on." she said, lightly pulling on the shoulder of the girl about to step down. She slammed her fist against the wall, focusing on the vibrations. Through this, she'd be able to tell if there were any traps, of which there were none. "Safe." she said, beginning her descent with a loud yawn. | Name: Tanno Bang
Bending ability if any: Earthbender
Birthplace: Ba Sing Se
Appearance: Tanno is a tall, slim, busty teenage girl with short, dark brown hair that she has styled in a spiky manner and forest green. She wears a juniper colored long sleeve shirt under an olive colored short sleeve shirt with chartreuse and shamrock designs running along the neck, the edge of the sleeve and the bottom and a pine colored line running along the buttons in the front. She also wears crocodile colored pants with a dark green, thin rope used as a belt and leaf green, ankle-high boots.
Age: 15
Backstory: Tanno was born and raised in Ba Sing Se by her mother, Yisa, and her father, Roke, until she was 8. Since her parents owned a bakery, she was often with her best friend, Tae, running around the neighborhood. One day, Tae got sick and couldn't get better. Tanno had stayed by her side the entire time, refusing to return to the bakery until her friend got better. Many doctors had been by to see the girl but none were able to help her. Being only 9 at the time, Tanno wasn't able to handle the loss of her friend and spent 2 weeks in her room, not coming out for anything. During that time, she barely ate and became sick herself. When the doctors came to visit her, she became angry. Many of the stones around the room began lifting around the doctors, proving the girl to be stronger than she seemed. Her parents were able to calm her down and help her get better. Five years later, she left home, looking to train with the best, Through her travels, she found many earthbenders who could give her tips and tricks but none who could truly teach her. While traveling, she had heard of both metalbending, which she had believed to be a myth until she had seen it firsthand, and lavabending, which she had never heard of before. Despite practice with both, she was unable to use either. After a year of traveling, she ended up in Republic City.
Items/Weapons on person: a pack full of food
Physical attributes or abilities: Earthbending I, Physical Strength II, Concentrated Focus I, Defensive Style II
Other: Lesbian man-hater. |
53,036 | 1,437 | 22 | 8 | 2,648 | The basement was revealed to be a narrow hallway, maybe wide enough for the group to go down two-by-two. It was nearly pitch black here, save for a torchlight coming from about fifty feet away. The torch was mounted by a door, apparently leading to the area where the group was actually supposed to meet. Whoever opened the door first would see enter a humble room. The room was small, round, made of brick, and somehow even more bare than the rest of this temple. It was also lit only by some scant torches placed around it. The old man who had contacted some of the people who were now here stood in the center of the room, wearing his White Lotus uniform. Off to the corner, as much as this room had corners, sat a small girl. | Name: Real name unknown, goes by Cricket
Gender: Male
Bending ability if any: None
Birthplace: Somewhere in Republic City
Backstory: As far as anyone knows, Cricket has spent his entire life in the streets. He has been a thief since he was very young, and has learned the tricks of the trade mostly through trial and error. Over the years he's gained somewhat of a reputation for himself throughout Republic City's underworld as a reliable professional.
Items/weapons on person: A dagger, his lock picking equipment, and several bombs.
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
Weapon proficiency: Dagger (II)
Move silently (II)
Infiltration (II) |
53,037 | 1,437 | 23 | 905 | 2,479 | Jalika briefly noted the man, but was more interested in the girl off to the side of the room. Some of those summoned here were quite young, so it didn't seem as far off as it might to others, but she was still curious about her. Jalika crossed the room, leaning slightly on her staff, and sat in a close approximation to a meditative stance next to her, her staff across her knees.
"Hello," she greeted with a simple smile. "I am Jalika. What's your name?" | Name: Jalika
Age: 26
Bending ability if any: Air
Birthplace: Western Air Temple
Personality: Carries a lot of the introspection that is common in Air Nomads, but without their air of lightheartedness and fun. Her personality is a mish-mash of traits, both earnest and affected. She appears as a typical drunk, and yet is known to dispense wisdom to anyone who bothers to listen to her. She acts as if she is still grieving for her loss, but has turned her need to nurture on to others. With Jalika, nothing is, in its entirety, on the surface, and she is not easy to read.
Backstory (Optional):
Though traditionally nomadic, Jalika would have called the Western Air Temple home in her youth. She was born there, and it was usually where she would return between journeys. She was poised to complete her training and attain mastery of Air Bending, but was jolted from her normal life when her bison companion was killed for fur by poachers. In her despair, she ran from the Temple and isolated herself for nearly a year.
When she returned, the elder monks tried to use her friend's death as a teaching tool, warning her against earthly attachments. Rather than comfort her, Jalika was enraged by how little they regarded her loss. To her, it wasn't a mere physical loss, it was a spiritual one. On this note of disagreement, she left the order for good.
In the years to come, Jalika fell into a cycle of despondence and alcoholism. That is, until she came upon a mothberry grove, so called because the plants feed the infant worms of spider-moths. When she came upon the grove, she found that it was often beset by silk makers, who would take the cocoons, the metamorphosing worms still inside, and boil them down to take the silk, with little regard for the creature inside. Jalika chased the cloth makers away, and found new meaning living in the mothberry grove, protecting the moths' young from predators and poachers alike. Since she's taken up residence, the grove has grown large and wild. She takes the husks of the cocoons, after the moths have hatched, and spins it into her own wild silk, which she sells to the people of the Fire Nation nearby.
Items/weapons on person:
- A plethora of folding paper fans, mostly Fire Nation in origin.
- Usually just one bottle of wine
- A small flute
Physical Attributes and Abilities:
- Airbending Uses a style of her own invention, called the Crooked Breeze, that mimics the unsteady movements of the very intoxicated.
- Animal riding |
53,038 | 1,438 | 0 | 107 | 7,708 | Posting Header
-enter link to character header here
OPTIONAL-enter image or gif to character here
OPTIONAL LOCATION —
INTERACTION — | "Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone - we find it with another."
—Thomas Merton
Lost Boy by Ruth B
I am just a
L O S T B O Y
Save me from myself
Don't let me D R O W N
Low on self-esteem,
so you just run on G A S O L I N E
N A M E
Dominic Petrov Wells
A G E
24
G E N D E R
Male
E T H N I C I T Y
Polish, German, Russian, and Cuban
O C C U P A T I O N
Aspiring Novelist; works as an Manager of a Barnes and Noble store
S E X U A L I T Y
Pansexual
R E L A T I O N S H I P S T A T U S
Engaged to be married to Chloe Jameson
E D U C A T I O N A L L E V E L
Working on his Master degree for English; has a BA in Graphic Design.
A P P E A R A N C E
Dominic isn't really big - tall, sure - but not muscular. He's a thin man, not Slender Man-thin, but he doesn't a large assemble of muscle mass. There have been occasions where Dominic's body was called "lean", which is having the ideal fat content for whatever height someone is. Dominic has that. As tall as he is, which is two inches higher than an even 6'0, Dominic's weight isn't proportioned to make him look intimidating or fierce. He imposes a gentle appearance. When they look at him, they don't see a man that will pound them into the ground. They don't see a guy who will back down from a fight, either. Dominic imposes the kind of atmosphere that isn't either of things, yet if you push him far enough, you might be surprised. It doesn't help his case that he also has a very pale, white skintone. That doesn't mean he's albino, but when the sun meets his skin, it will boil deep red. Obviously he doesn't get out much.
Dominic is very indecisive when it comes to his hairstyle. It's like he will go through a style every year. It's been like that since high school, starting at his freshmen year. He would go from short to long to longer to even longer, and then cut it to almost buzzcut-length. It has been noted by his family and his fiance that the latter was his worst yet. Still, there is no denying that Dominic has a track record of being experimental with his hairstyles. There wre even moments of him going blonde. Safe to say it didn't work out so well. Stupid college. Anyways, back on topic. Dominic's hair, now, seemed to ahve found a middle ground from his boy band-esque length and Army Buzzcut as it comes just a few inches above his neckline. The bangs are about three inches away from his eyes when they flow naturally without anything moving them. His natural hair color seems to be around a mix of auburn and some kind of hazelnut brown shade.
It's really hard to pinpoint exactly what the shade of Dominic's eyes are. There have been quite a few people whom have tried to guess what they were. His parents say they are hazelnut like his hair, but Jean often told him that they seem to be more of a lax green-brown hybrid. Other times have been noted by his friends that Dominic's eyes are actually almond with a hint of chocolate brown. Even Chloe told Dominic that she was unsure what his eye color was. Most people really don't know. Dominic isn't even sure himself, so he just went with what seemed to be the general consensus of that kind of light brown, hint of almond shade. Whatever you want to say it is, there is one thing that is true: Dominic's eyes are, regardless of the lighting, what one thinks, or whatever, brown.
Though, generally, Dominic's fashion sense is what is to be expected of him, there is also something quite unique about it. You see, there are two sides to Dominic's fashion style. There's the part that is conservative, traditional, and stylish; it's the side that speaks normality and presentability.This is the side that is usually made up of slacks and sweater vests and button-up shirts. This is the side that Dominic has been known to call his "formal" wear. It's the side where nothing out of the ordinary is spotted. Shirts that are of neutral colors; pants that are of presentable length; shoes that have no flashy design. This is the style of clothing that Dominic wears when he's forced to forsake all uniqueness. This is what he must resort to impress those he must, like possible future employers that will want him for a job, or his future in-laws. This is the style that looks good on him, but it is not the real Dominic Wells.
The second style — the one that Dominic shows only those that he trusts; a style that has Dominic in his true element — is one that is composed of wacky colors, off-beat, totally out of the ordinary, completely opposite of conservative style. It is one that has mismatching socks, hats that are as goofy as the character they are based off of, shirts that often have some comical design, sometimes a caricature of political figures. It is a style that has pants of various makes and of various color combinations. It is a style completely his own, and Dominic owns it. He takes it by the horns like a bullrider, and commands it to walk for him and not him walk for it. Everything about it speaks the true Dominic; the Dominic that Chloe fell in love with after getting to know him; the Dominic that Jean knows, that Chloe knows, that Tish knows, that his parents know — that everyone knows. This is the style that Dominic can be himself without worry of feeling awkward and/or out of place in the clothes he wears. To put quite simply, it's where he feels most like himself. It's where he feels like the real Dominic Petrov Wells.
Dominic could be the first one to admit that he was never one for having an extensive amount of piercings or body art like certain childhood friends of his; however, that doesn't mean that Dom hasn't delved into some aspects of the aforementioned body accessories. During his high school years, Dom was dared by Jean to get his ears pierced. God how it hurt. The fact that something was going to punch a hole through his year frightened him greatly, but he did it because he didn't want to give Jean the bragging rights of rubbing it in his face on how much of a coward that Dominic was. Besides, it was only two(one on each of his earlobes). Still to this day, Dominic keeps his ears pierced. He doesn't wear anything flashy - just a pair of simple pearl earrings that Chloe gave to him for his eighteenth birthday. It also just so happened that his birthday fell around when they graduated high school, so there's that too.
Along with the two piercings that Dominic has, he also has a few tattoos, which is kind of funny since Dominic has a deep-rooted fear of needles. Still, he wasn't assertive enough to turn down Tish when she offered, so he just endured the pain. He didn't know what he wanted to get, so he let Tish just pick a couple for him. Of course he had to sign off on them as they would be on his body permanently. The first tattoo he got was inked onto his body when Tish was just starting her tattoo shop in 2013. This first tattoo is a Harry Potter-based one.It is the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. It has the shape of a regular triangle with a vertical line going from the corner right through the center to the bottom. Rising from the bottom is a circle stroke that surrounds the line and connects with it. Around the triangle on the left side are "I solemnly swear that". That part goes from the bottom left side to the top left in a diagonal. "I am up to no good." is the same, but it goes from top right to bottom right in a diagonal line. Both parts are written in a handwriting, This tattoo is located on the back of his neck.
The second tattoo that Dominic got was as personal as personal can get. It was a tattoo he got to symbolize his love for his darling Chloe. It was a tattoo that was commissioned by his oldest - and best - friend growing up, Tish. This tattoo was a matching one he got with Chloe. Together, they are watercolor puzzle hearts. One — Chloe's tattoo — has the paint inside, and the other — Dom's tattoo — has it exploding around it. Chloe's was done on her right wrist and Dominic's was done on his left wrist. Separate, they just look like cool, moderately-flashy tatoos, but together it's clear to anyone that it's a symbol of their love. Chloe represents the control and containment of their love. She represents the quiant aspect of it while Dominic's exploding half represents the emotional, the unconditional, the absolutely, wholeheartedly, love that they share. Separate they are incomplete, but together, like Dominic and Chloe themselves, they are whole.
H A B I T S | O D D I T I E S | Q U I R K S
♞ Wears mis-matching socks
♞ Non-traditional photo presence
♞ Can always be seen holding a cup of a hot beverage in his hands
♞ Refuses to step on cracks on the sidewalk
♞ Has a snork in his laugh every time
H O B B I E S
♛ Reading
♛ Drinking Hot Beverages
♛ Taking walks on the beach, usually at night or around sunset/sunrise
♛ Writing down in his diary online blog
♛ Getting lost in the music he listens to
L I K E S
✔ Chloe!!!! ("You will always have all of my heart. ♥")
✔ Poetry and novels(and any other form of reading)
✔ Hot beverages
✔ Anything Quirky or Unusual
✔ Food in general
✔ Music and talking about it
✔ Japanese Roleplaying Video Games
✔ Finding the hidden depths of films
D I S L I K E S
✘ Needles
✘ His father's ways/expectations/judgmental attitude
✘ Heights
✘ Agression and Confrontations
✘ His melancholic mood swings
✘ Energy Drinks
✘ Indian Food(from India, not Indiana)
F E A R S
☠ Chloe will leave him for someone more muscular, more attractive, more rich than he is
☠ His future mother-in-law
☠ Ending up alone.
☠ Heights
☠ Needles
P E R S O N A L I T Y
♦ Benevolent ♦ Timid ♦ Placid ♦ Pensive ♦
The mind of Dominic Petrov Wells is a complex puzzle. There are mutiple turns, multiple levels, many ways where he could end up sweet, kind, compassionate, understanding, and just an all around sweet guy. There are times where the future husband of Chloe Jameson can appear confident in that non-threatening way, where he could appear like teh strongest man in the room just by the way he presents himself. No, not in the way where physical strength is the deciding factor. It's the way that really matters. It's the way where something in the eyes that exhibits a stern, subtle fiercosity that only those who truly know what he's about really know that it's the most attractive thing that Dom could do. It's the ways that, even though he doesn't have the most intimidating presence, the way he stands his grand more than makes up for it.
And yet, Dominic Wells has moments where all confidence is gone as soon as a Ferrari goes 0-60mph. It lays deep within his own insecurities. These insecurities are rooted back to his childhood, back to how his father was, how he was treated in school(all of them),how everything about Dominic doesn't spell most would've thought was the fiance of Chloe Jameson. These insecurities are rooted in paranoia, hesitation, over-thinking, not sure if he is worthy of her, if she might find a better husband in the arms of someone who presented themselves in a stronger way that Dominic does. It's how that Chloe deserves someone more physically-fit than he is, more consistent displays of confidence, a reassuring attitude that won't give Chloe worries or anger. It's the way how Dominic becomes his own worst enemy. It's how he always will psyche himself out. It doesn't matter how many people say otherwise, once Dominic gets inside his own mind, once he starts to think about something in such a way that often puts him in a less-than flattering light, Dominic can't stop but think about the outrageous possible scenarios, and psyche himself out. He can't control how he has a slight paranoid mindset and over-thinks a lot of things that he really shouldn't.
Existing somewhere between those two areas within Dominic's personality, there is another; less subtle and less co-dependent. It is a middle ground that has often been noted the place where Dominic has the most leeway of all sides to him. Build with layers of unpredictability and wackiness, this particular area is where the goofball in Dominic resides. In a land full of pranks and odd dosesof laughter, this is the area that was geographically formed during his college years. Well into his relationship with his Chloe, this side emerged. It brought him out, and Dominic found different sides of him. He found a love for conversation, wacky parties, illogical attire choices, and pretty much became open to indulge into anything silly, whimsical, and any combination of the two. This is where Dominic truly came out. Through all intents and purposes, this land, if made into a movie, would probably be a Tim Burton movie with Johnny Depp starring as Dominic.
Often noted by several people, they have said that Dominic's mannerisms were always polite. Eyes are always up front, never do they drift from where they should be. Odd, probably, but the thing about Dominic is that he likes to make a good first impression. Even though there have been some contradictions about him, like how he has confidence but has insecurities that make him lack his confidence in himself, he still likes to at least try to make sure that he meets the eyes of whomever he's trying to impress. It doesn't matter if it's a potential employer, his future in-laws, or whatever. There will always be maximum effort from his part to at least make sure the impression made of Dominic is at least one that could be considered favorable. Even if somehow screws it up, Dominic wants to at least try his best. If he does that, then he would consider it a success.
H I S T O R Y
Dominic Petrov Wells was born on June 25th, 1992. His father, Conrad Tobias Wells, co-founder and co-owner of the Wells-Smith Law Firm, and his mother, Yesenia Constance Ramos-Wells, the Head of Public Relations of Wells-Smith Law Firm. Together they would raise their sons in their four bedroom Miami house in the suburbs, about twenty minutes away from the beach region of Miami.
The years that followed were as bare as they could get. Dominic grew up in a nice, post house with a brother, a mother, a not-so-present father, and a few nannies that came over the years. Due to their jobs, Jean was the one who mainly looked after Dominic. Of course, there were nannies here and there, but Yesenia did do most of the raising. She tried to make sure that she raised them, showed them what the love of a mother could do. She made sure to give them all the unconditional love that she could. While attending elementary school, Dominic met an unlikely friend by the name of Patricia Webber. She was odd. He was shy. Somehow they seemed to form some kind of friendship that would carry on for the years to come.
Eventually, as both Wells children grew into their late childhood, it was revealed that Yesenia was pregnant. It was a girl. The rave in the Wells household was quite high, especially with the fact that Yesenia was finally getting a daughter. Her parents were all about making the occasion as stress-free as it could be. All of the classes that she had to go to were taken care of by her mother and father, and pretty much everything that she needed, was more or less taken care of by her family. that whole year was pretty much stress-free for Yesenia - well, aside form the fact that her husband was always being difficult. His usual words weren’t helping anyone, and most believed that he knew that. In fact, some among Yesenia’s family thought he was just doing it to spite her, to spite her family, to spite their children, and to spite anyone who would have been present during his constant ramblings.
Aaahh, whatever, not like Yesenia would let it bother her. She’s such a Cuban woman. It didn’t matter. Once she got into her last trimester, no one was going to say anything, especially Conrad. And especially when she was going into birth. That was a scary time. Dominic doesn’t recall it that well. He only knows of what Jean has hinted to him over the years and that the birth of their sister, Anastasia Iris Ramos — who was born on December 23rd, 1998 — was a dark time for the Wells family. Apparently Conrad became the most obedient husband for the first week. Dominic couldn’t believe it, but apparently anything was possible.
And thus the years continued on. Dominic and Jean started to become men. Only two years apart they were, so they generally went to the same schools up until Dominic was in seventh grade(Anastasia at the time was just starting first). Dominic was bound to be in the same high school as his big brother by the time he was a Freshman(9th grade). At the time, Jean would have been a Junior(11th grade). And by that time, Anastasia would have been in third grade. Still very young.
High school was rough for Dominic, and his home life didn’t make it any easier. If it wasn’t bad enough that the kids at school were making fun of him, he was hearing whispers that his father might be cheating on his mother. You could imagine that this made Dominic angry, but he couldn’t do nothing about it since he didn’t have any concrete proof. It wouldn’t become known until a year later when Yesenia would confirm it one day. Apparently he had been cheating on her with his partner’s fresh-out-of-high-school daughter. Her name was Alison something something. Dominic really didn’t pay attention to her name. He honestly couldn’t stand the woman. She had broken up his family by seducing his father -or maybe he seduced her. Dominic wouldn’t know nor did he care. That put a sour note on his thoughts of his father. Safe to say that not long after all that went down, Yesenia put a speeding halt on the marriage, and filed for divorce. Of course, Dominic, Jean, and Anastasia were all behind her. The divorce wasn’t finally settled until three years later, by which time a lot happened to Dominic.
In those three years, Dominic had surprisingly hit it off with someone unexpected. Her name was Chloe Elizabeth Desiree Jameson. They were paired as partners for the first US History assignment of the year. Of anyone that Dominic would end up with, he never expected it would be the Head Cheerleader of Miami Beach High School. She was beautiful, smart, sociable, liked by all, loved by more, and even envied by an equal amount. Every girl wanted to be her, and every guy that Dominic knew of wanted to be with her. It didn’t make any sense for them to be together, and yet, by new years, they had shared a kiss; a kiss that Dominic initiated. It was so strange. Complete opposites they were, but somehow they fit together so perfectly.
When asked about Chloe and how such an awesome woman could be with someone like him, Dominic usually shrugged. He didn’t know why either, but there was a part of him that always wondered why. He never stood out as the kind of guy that would be liked by the kind of girls that Chloe seemed to be like. She was pretty and he was average; she was sociable and he wasn’t. Everything about them couldn’t anymore opposite from each other, yet it worked. It more than worked out. If you look at how many dates they shared, including most dances of both their Junior and Senior years, including proms of both years, they obviously had something between them. Most of his insecurities would be gone by their Senior Prom as he saw her in that red prom dress that made him melt a little. Stupid he was for having those insecurities and stupid he was for thinking that she wouldn’t want to be with him. She stayed after getting to know his father and his new wife. If she could stick around after that, then maybe she was the one after all.
And thus began their post-high school lives. With both of them going to the same college, they were bound to have time together, right? Nope. Dominic and Chloe would have to make sure they stuck to a plan of weekly dates. She had the study of Microbiology and Immunology, while Dominic kept to his strengths, and double majored in English Lit and Graphic Design. Somehow both were able to remain as close as they were in high school, especially when she got accepted into the Delta Gamma Sorority. Apparently she was a legacy member, which made Dominic fear the worst. Would she end up like her mother after all of that? Dominic didn’t want to think like that, but he couldn’t help it. As it turns out, Dominic was just being paranoid because the woman that he feel in love within high school was the same woman he graduated with.
And when they both graduated, there was such an overwhelming feeling that came over Dominic. When he saw her in her gown, when he saw how utterly happy she was, Dominic had realized something. All of his insecurities that he had, all of those doubts that she was with the wrong man, all of those thoughts that he had that she might leave him for someone better had gone away. The one thing that he knew was that he loved her; and at their party, in front of all of their friends, in front of all of their family, in front of all of those that cared deeply about them, Dominic probably surprised everyone — including himself — by getting down on one knee, holding out his mother’s grandmother’s Diamond and White gold engagement ring. The only person that knew about this was Dominic’s mother, but that was mainly because she’s his best friend right next to Tish. Of course she said yes — well, right after she stopped crying — and he slipped it on her.
When she said yes, there were cheers of happiness and support — well, except from Edith and Conrad. The former never approved of Dominic and the latter didn’t think it was anything to congratulate, not with his contempt he held for his son. Still, Dominic wouldn’t let it ruin his mood. Of course, it was much due in part that the look on Chloe’s face wouldn’t allow him to let his father ruin his big moment. Or rather, their big moment. Only a year later would they become official, because within the next 365 days, Dominic and Chloe were to bed wed, and were to be husband and wife.
F A M I L Y
Polish-German | Cuban | Slovac-Russian
Conrad Tobias Wells | Father | 53 | Lawyer; Owner of the Wells-Smith Law Firm | Face Claim: Robert Downey Jr.
Everyone knows Conrad as the giving, charible guy who always defends the weak. They know him as one-half of the Defense Dream Team on the East Side. They know him as the one guy to go to if you're in a tight bind, but they don't know the real COnrad Tobias Wells. They only know what he wants people to know. They don't know the cheating Conrad Wells; they don't know the lying Conrad Wells; they don't know the abusive, demeaning Conrad Wells.They don't know the Conrad Wells that has constantly belittled his own flesh and blood; they don't know the side of Conrad Wells ruined his family for a younger, hotter girl. The general public know nothing about the real Conrad Wells.
Alison Lianna Smith-Wells | Stepmother | 29 | Trophy Wife Finacial Accountant for Wells-Smith Law Firm | Face Claim: Amber Heard
Not much to say about this one. She was the one that stole Conrad away from Dominic's mother. As far as everyone is concerned, she is public enemy number one. At least, that's what Yesenia says.
Yesenia Constance Ramos| Mother |48 | Head of PR for the Wells-Smith Law Firm | Face Claim: Salma Hayek
Strong-willed, passionate, loving to a fault, and above all, the heart of the Ramos name. She might still carry Conrad's last name, but someone like he will not let him control what she does. She still has her position at the firm despite what he did. As far as she's concerned, half of the firm is hers. According to what she has hinted at, Conrad understands that. He doesn't question what she says or anything. He simply pretends that nothing happened - well at least in the work place. To Dominic, she is everything to him. A momma's boy for sure. He loves his mother, his mami. He doesn't care who knows. His mother is his everything - well, right next to Chloe, that is. If anything were to happen, he woldn't know what to do. A bonus is that she absolutely loves Chloe.
Anastasia Iris Ramos| Younger Sister | 18 | College Student at the University of Flordia | Face Claim: Victoria Justice
The feisty younger sister, Anastasia Iris "Ana" Ramos. Much like her mother and much like her father, Ana has a fire in her belly that could only be rivaled by the fires of hell. She says what she wants when she wants to. All that comes from her mouth is unfiltered. It doesn't matter if it's dirty, blunt, or whatever. If Ana thinks it, most likely she's going to say it. When it comes to her future sister-in-law, she adores her, but is kind of baffled that someone like her actually stuck around after finding out the crazy, hot mess that her family is, she questions Chloe's sanity. Maybe Chloe's own is just as crazy. Oh well. Her loss, perhaps.
A N Y T H I N G E L S E
Movie-wise, I am definitely looking forward to Spider-Man: Homecoming |
53,039 | 1,438 | 1 | 107 | 7,708 | LOCATION — Miami International → Las Vegas International Airport
INTERACTION — Chloe () Tish () Paige () Viktor() Val() Oberon() River()
Dom's OotD
As he came off the heels of the third annual Christmas Party that he and Chloe threw for their closest friends and family, he had another big week ahead of him. In just a little over six days, Dominic is to wed the girl of his dreams. Well, not exactly true. The girl of his dreams doesn’t even compare in comparison to his wonderful fiance, Chloe Elizabeth Desireé Jameson. How he got so lucky Dominic would never be able to say.
Here is the guy that was probably the most awkward teenager in Miami Central High School. He stood out like a sore thumb - and not in the good way. He was always picked on by those jocks. He didn’t have many friends while going through those hellish four years. The friends that he did have to help him was his oldest friend, Patricia Webber, though everyone called her Tish. Dominic sure did. He has called her Tish ever since they met when they were still in their awkward, adolescent years.
Dominic had never been able to grasp how he and Tish became friends. He had always been awkward. He was awkward as a kid. And yet, through some stroke of luck and maybe a little hand from something more, Dominic and Tish formed a bond that would otherwise be deemed impossible. And what’s more, improbable. Still, they proved to have a closer bond than Dominic had with anyone at the time.
Tish wasn’t the only one that Dom had a close bond with. There was his brother, Viktor, too. Despite the growing tensions that had been brewing at home and even to this day, he and Vik had always maintained a closeness that Dominic had always cherished above most things.
This was why Dominic had been experiencing on-and-off paranoia as the plane would arrive in Las Vegas. With all that has happened in his life and all that he tried to get past, there were still things that Dominic struggled with. Even though he’s surrounded by his friends and brother and his beloved’s sister, Dominic couldn’t escape some of his older insecurities. Or maybe it was just the fact that he was several miles high in the sky. Heights never did set well with me. Regardless, Doninic had tried to force that out of his mind while he and his friends enjoyed what time they could with each other on the plane.
There had been several swapping of the seats. Dominic had spent time with just about everyone at some point during the four to five hour flight. When they had arrived at Las Vegas International, they were all smiles. Dominic had his usual peculiar cheek-to-cheek grin, trying to just live for the moment as he and Chloe came out hand in hand, arms locked, and pretty much seeming to be conjoined at the hip.
As they would claim their baggage, their baggage, which took longer than preferred. Apparently eight people going to the same place, travelling together, produced complications, specifically getting their bags in a timely manner. It actually spanned over the course of three hours. Some bags had gotten lost in the mix, so they had to be recovered. But fear not, for the faith in the baggage recovery system of the Las Vegas International Airport was restored when they finally were able to get all of their bags.
And it wasn’t no more than ten minutes that they hailed a cab. Well, not just one cab, but about four. Due to the large amount of bags and people who own those bags, they had to have two people her cab: Chloe and Dominic had one, the happy couple’s respective siblings shared one, River and Tish took one, and then lastly(but not least), Oberon and Val had one. All four cabs were en-route to the Pink Flamingo Hotel and Cansino.
This should be fun. | "Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone - we find it with another."
—Thomas Merton
Lost Boy by Ruth B
I am just a
L O S T B O Y
Save me from myself
Don't let me D R O W N
Low on self-esteem,
so you just run on G A S O L I N E
N A M E
Dominic Petrov Wells
A G E
24
G E N D E R
Male
E T H N I C I T Y
Polish, German, Russian, and Cuban
O C C U P A T I O N
Aspiring Novelist; works as an Manager of a Barnes and Noble store
S E X U A L I T Y
Pansexual
R E L A T I O N S H I P S T A T U S
Engaged to be married to Chloe Jameson
E D U C A T I O N A L L E V E L
Working on his Master degree for English; has a BA in Graphic Design.
A P P E A R A N C E
Dominic isn't really big - tall, sure - but not muscular. He's a thin man, not Slender Man-thin, but he doesn't a large assemble of muscle mass. There have been occasions where Dominic's body was called "lean", which is having the ideal fat content for whatever height someone is. Dominic has that. As tall as he is, which is two inches higher than an even 6'0, Dominic's weight isn't proportioned to make him look intimidating or fierce. He imposes a gentle appearance. When they look at him, they don't see a man that will pound them into the ground. They don't see a guy who will back down from a fight, either. Dominic imposes the kind of atmosphere that isn't either of things, yet if you push him far enough, you might be surprised. It doesn't help his case that he also has a very pale, white skintone. That doesn't mean he's albino, but when the sun meets his skin, it will boil deep red. Obviously he doesn't get out much.
Dominic is very indecisive when it comes to his hairstyle. It's like he will go through a style every year. It's been like that since high school, starting at his freshmen year. He would go from short to long to longer to even longer, and then cut it to almost buzzcut-length. It has been noted by his family and his fiance that the latter was his worst yet. Still, there is no denying that Dominic has a track record of being experimental with his hairstyles. There wre even moments of him going blonde. Safe to say it didn't work out so well. Stupid college. Anyways, back on topic. Dominic's hair, now, seemed to ahve found a middle ground from his boy band-esque length and Army Buzzcut as it comes just a few inches above his neckline. The bangs are about three inches away from his eyes when they flow naturally without anything moving them. His natural hair color seems to be around a mix of auburn and some kind of hazelnut brown shade.
It's really hard to pinpoint exactly what the shade of Dominic's eyes are. There have been quite a few people whom have tried to guess what they were. His parents say they are hazelnut like his hair, but Jean often told him that they seem to be more of a lax green-brown hybrid. Other times have been noted by his friends that Dominic's eyes are actually almond with a hint of chocolate brown. Even Chloe told Dominic that she was unsure what his eye color was. Most people really don't know. Dominic isn't even sure himself, so he just went with what seemed to be the general consensus of that kind of light brown, hint of almond shade. Whatever you want to say it is, there is one thing that is true: Dominic's eyes are, regardless of the lighting, what one thinks, or whatever, brown.
Though, generally, Dominic's fashion sense is what is to be expected of him, there is also something quite unique about it. You see, there are two sides to Dominic's fashion style. There's the part that is conservative, traditional, and stylish; it's the side that speaks normality and presentability.This is the side that is usually made up of slacks and sweater vests and button-up shirts. This is the side that Dominic has been known to call his "formal" wear. It's the side where nothing out of the ordinary is spotted. Shirts that are of neutral colors; pants that are of presentable length; shoes that have no flashy design. This is the style of clothing that Dominic wears when he's forced to forsake all uniqueness. This is what he must resort to impress those he must, like possible future employers that will want him for a job, or his future in-laws. This is the style that looks good on him, but it is not the real Dominic Wells.
The second style — the one that Dominic shows only those that he trusts; a style that has Dominic in his true element — is one that is composed of wacky colors, off-beat, totally out of the ordinary, completely opposite of conservative style. It is one that has mismatching socks, hats that are as goofy as the character they are based off of, shirts that often have some comical design, sometimes a caricature of political figures. It is a style that has pants of various makes and of various color combinations. It is a style completely his own, and Dominic owns it. He takes it by the horns like a bullrider, and commands it to walk for him and not him walk for it. Everything about it speaks the true Dominic; the Dominic that Chloe fell in love with after getting to know him; the Dominic that Jean knows, that Chloe knows, that Tish knows, that his parents know — that everyone knows. This is the style that Dominic can be himself without worry of feeling awkward and/or out of place in the clothes he wears. To put quite simply, it's where he feels most like himself. It's where he feels like the real Dominic Petrov Wells.
Dominic could be the first one to admit that he was never one for having an extensive amount of piercings or body art like certain childhood friends of his; however, that doesn't mean that Dom hasn't delved into some aspects of the aforementioned body accessories. During his high school years, Dom was dared by Jean to get his ears pierced. God how it hurt. The fact that something was going to punch a hole through his year frightened him greatly, but he did it because he didn't want to give Jean the bragging rights of rubbing it in his face on how much of a coward that Dominic was. Besides, it was only two(one on each of his earlobes). Still to this day, Dominic keeps his ears pierced. He doesn't wear anything flashy - just a pair of simple pearl earrings that Chloe gave to him for his eighteenth birthday. It also just so happened that his birthday fell around when they graduated high school, so there's that too.
Along with the two piercings that Dominic has, he also has a few tattoos, which is kind of funny since Dominic has a deep-rooted fear of needles. Still, he wasn't assertive enough to turn down Tish when she offered, so he just endured the pain. He didn't know what he wanted to get, so he let Tish just pick a couple for him. Of course he had to sign off on them as they would be on his body permanently. The first tattoo he got was inked onto his body when Tish was just starting her tattoo shop in 2013. This first tattoo is a Harry Potter-based one.It is the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. It has the shape of a regular triangle with a vertical line going from the corner right through the center to the bottom. Rising from the bottom is a circle stroke that surrounds the line and connects with it. Around the triangle on the left side are "I solemnly swear that". That part goes from the bottom left side to the top left in a diagonal. "I am up to no good." is the same, but it goes from top right to bottom right in a diagonal line. Both parts are written in a handwriting, This tattoo is located on the back of his neck.
The second tattoo that Dominic got was as personal as personal can get. It was a tattoo he got to symbolize his love for his darling Chloe. It was a tattoo that was commissioned by his oldest - and best - friend growing up, Tish. This tattoo was a matching one he got with Chloe. Together, they are watercolor puzzle hearts. One — Chloe's tattoo — has the paint inside, and the other — Dom's tattoo — has it exploding around it. Chloe's was done on her right wrist and Dominic's was done on his left wrist. Separate, they just look like cool, moderately-flashy tatoos, but together it's clear to anyone that it's a symbol of their love. Chloe represents the control and containment of their love. She represents the quiant aspect of it while Dominic's exploding half represents the emotional, the unconditional, the absolutely, wholeheartedly, love that they share. Separate they are incomplete, but together, like Dominic and Chloe themselves, they are whole.
H A B I T S | O D D I T I E S | Q U I R K S
♞ Wears mis-matching socks
♞ Non-traditional photo presence
♞ Can always be seen holding a cup of a hot beverage in his hands
♞ Refuses to step on cracks on the sidewalk
♞ Has a snork in his laugh every time
H O B B I E S
♛ Reading
♛ Drinking Hot Beverages
♛ Taking walks on the beach, usually at night or around sunset/sunrise
♛ Writing down in his diary online blog
♛ Getting lost in the music he listens to
L I K E S
✔ Chloe!!!! ("You will always have all of my heart. ♥")
✔ Poetry and novels(and any other form of reading)
✔ Hot beverages
✔ Anything Quirky or Unusual
✔ Food in general
✔ Music and talking about it
✔ Japanese Roleplaying Video Games
✔ Finding the hidden depths of films
D I S L I K E S
✘ Needles
✘ His father's ways/expectations/judgmental attitude
✘ Heights
✘ Agression and Confrontations
✘ His melancholic mood swings
✘ Energy Drinks
✘ Indian Food(from India, not Indiana)
F E A R S
☠ Chloe will leave him for someone more muscular, more attractive, more rich than he is
☠ His future mother-in-law
☠ Ending up alone.
☠ Heights
☠ Needles
P E R S O N A L I T Y
♦ Benevolent ♦ Timid ♦ Placid ♦ Pensive ♦
The mind of Dominic Petrov Wells is a complex puzzle. There are mutiple turns, multiple levels, many ways where he could end up sweet, kind, compassionate, understanding, and just an all around sweet guy. There are times where the future husband of Chloe Jameson can appear confident in that non-threatening way, where he could appear like teh strongest man in the room just by the way he presents himself. No, not in the way where physical strength is the deciding factor. It's the way that really matters. It's the way where something in the eyes that exhibits a stern, subtle fiercosity that only those who truly know what he's about really know that it's the most attractive thing that Dom could do. It's the ways that, even though he doesn't have the most intimidating presence, the way he stands his grand more than makes up for it.
And yet, Dominic Wells has moments where all confidence is gone as soon as a Ferrari goes 0-60mph. It lays deep within his own insecurities. These insecurities are rooted back to his childhood, back to how his father was, how he was treated in school(all of them),how everything about Dominic doesn't spell most would've thought was the fiance of Chloe Jameson. These insecurities are rooted in paranoia, hesitation, over-thinking, not sure if he is worthy of her, if she might find a better husband in the arms of someone who presented themselves in a stronger way that Dominic does. It's how that Chloe deserves someone more physically-fit than he is, more consistent displays of confidence, a reassuring attitude that won't give Chloe worries or anger. It's the way how Dominic becomes his own worst enemy. It's how he always will psyche himself out. It doesn't matter how many people say otherwise, once Dominic gets inside his own mind, once he starts to think about something in such a way that often puts him in a less-than flattering light, Dominic can't stop but think about the outrageous possible scenarios, and psyche himself out. He can't control how he has a slight paranoid mindset and over-thinks a lot of things that he really shouldn't.
Existing somewhere between those two areas within Dominic's personality, there is another; less subtle and less co-dependent. It is a middle ground that has often been noted the place where Dominic has the most leeway of all sides to him. Build with layers of unpredictability and wackiness, this particular area is where the goofball in Dominic resides. In a land full of pranks and odd dosesof laughter, this is the area that was geographically formed during his college years. Well into his relationship with his Chloe, this side emerged. It brought him out, and Dominic found different sides of him. He found a love for conversation, wacky parties, illogical attire choices, and pretty much became open to indulge into anything silly, whimsical, and any combination of the two. This is where Dominic truly came out. Through all intents and purposes, this land, if made into a movie, would probably be a Tim Burton movie with Johnny Depp starring as Dominic.
Often noted by several people, they have said that Dominic's mannerisms were always polite. Eyes are always up front, never do they drift from where they should be. Odd, probably, but the thing about Dominic is that he likes to make a good first impression. Even though there have been some contradictions about him, like how he has confidence but has insecurities that make him lack his confidence in himself, he still likes to at least try to make sure that he meets the eyes of whomever he's trying to impress. It doesn't matter if it's a potential employer, his future in-laws, or whatever. There will always be maximum effort from his part to at least make sure the impression made of Dominic is at least one that could be considered favorable. Even if somehow screws it up, Dominic wants to at least try his best. If he does that, then he would consider it a success.
H I S T O R Y
Dominic Petrov Wells was born on June 25th, 1992. His father, Conrad Tobias Wells, co-founder and co-owner of the Wells-Smith Law Firm, and his mother, Yesenia Constance Ramos-Wells, the Head of Public Relations of Wells-Smith Law Firm. Together they would raise their sons in their four bedroom Miami house in the suburbs, about twenty minutes away from the beach region of Miami.
The years that followed were as bare as they could get. Dominic grew up in a nice, post house with a brother, a mother, a not-so-present father, and a few nannies that came over the years. Due to their jobs, Jean was the one who mainly looked after Dominic. Of course, there were nannies here and there, but Yesenia did do most of the raising. She tried to make sure that she raised them, showed them what the love of a mother could do. She made sure to give them all the unconditional love that she could. While attending elementary school, Dominic met an unlikely friend by the name of Patricia Webber. She was odd. He was shy. Somehow they seemed to form some kind of friendship that would carry on for the years to come.
Eventually, as both Wells children grew into their late childhood, it was revealed that Yesenia was pregnant. It was a girl. The rave in the Wells household was quite high, especially with the fact that Yesenia was finally getting a daughter. Her parents were all about making the occasion as stress-free as it could be. All of the classes that she had to go to were taken care of by her mother and father, and pretty much everything that she needed, was more or less taken care of by her family. that whole year was pretty much stress-free for Yesenia - well, aside form the fact that her husband was always being difficult. His usual words weren’t helping anyone, and most believed that he knew that. In fact, some among Yesenia’s family thought he was just doing it to spite her, to spite her family, to spite their children, and to spite anyone who would have been present during his constant ramblings.
Aaahh, whatever, not like Yesenia would let it bother her. She’s such a Cuban woman. It didn’t matter. Once she got into her last trimester, no one was going to say anything, especially Conrad. And especially when she was going into birth. That was a scary time. Dominic doesn’t recall it that well. He only knows of what Jean has hinted to him over the years and that the birth of their sister, Anastasia Iris Ramos — who was born on December 23rd, 1998 — was a dark time for the Wells family. Apparently Conrad became the most obedient husband for the first week. Dominic couldn’t believe it, but apparently anything was possible.
And thus the years continued on. Dominic and Jean started to become men. Only two years apart they were, so they generally went to the same schools up until Dominic was in seventh grade(Anastasia at the time was just starting first). Dominic was bound to be in the same high school as his big brother by the time he was a Freshman(9th grade). At the time, Jean would have been a Junior(11th grade). And by that time, Anastasia would have been in third grade. Still very young.
High school was rough for Dominic, and his home life didn’t make it any easier. If it wasn’t bad enough that the kids at school were making fun of him, he was hearing whispers that his father might be cheating on his mother. You could imagine that this made Dominic angry, but he couldn’t do nothing about it since he didn’t have any concrete proof. It wouldn’t become known until a year later when Yesenia would confirm it one day. Apparently he had been cheating on her with his partner’s fresh-out-of-high-school daughter. Her name was Alison something something. Dominic really didn’t pay attention to her name. He honestly couldn’t stand the woman. She had broken up his family by seducing his father -or maybe he seduced her. Dominic wouldn’t know nor did he care. That put a sour note on his thoughts of his father. Safe to say that not long after all that went down, Yesenia put a speeding halt on the marriage, and filed for divorce. Of course, Dominic, Jean, and Anastasia were all behind her. The divorce wasn’t finally settled until three years later, by which time a lot happened to Dominic.
In those three years, Dominic had surprisingly hit it off with someone unexpected. Her name was Chloe Elizabeth Desiree Jameson. They were paired as partners for the first US History assignment of the year. Of anyone that Dominic would end up with, he never expected it would be the Head Cheerleader of Miami Beach High School. She was beautiful, smart, sociable, liked by all, loved by more, and even envied by an equal amount. Every girl wanted to be her, and every guy that Dominic knew of wanted to be with her. It didn’t make any sense for them to be together, and yet, by new years, they had shared a kiss; a kiss that Dominic initiated. It was so strange. Complete opposites they were, but somehow they fit together so perfectly.
When asked about Chloe and how such an awesome woman could be with someone like him, Dominic usually shrugged. He didn’t know why either, but there was a part of him that always wondered why. He never stood out as the kind of guy that would be liked by the kind of girls that Chloe seemed to be like. She was pretty and he was average; she was sociable and he wasn’t. Everything about them couldn’t anymore opposite from each other, yet it worked. It more than worked out. If you look at how many dates they shared, including most dances of both their Junior and Senior years, including proms of both years, they obviously had something between them. Most of his insecurities would be gone by their Senior Prom as he saw her in that red prom dress that made him melt a little. Stupid he was for having those insecurities and stupid he was for thinking that she wouldn’t want to be with him. She stayed after getting to know his father and his new wife. If she could stick around after that, then maybe she was the one after all.
And thus began their post-high school lives. With both of them going to the same college, they were bound to have time together, right? Nope. Dominic and Chloe would have to make sure they stuck to a plan of weekly dates. She had the study of Microbiology and Immunology, while Dominic kept to his strengths, and double majored in English Lit and Graphic Design. Somehow both were able to remain as close as they were in high school, especially when she got accepted into the Delta Gamma Sorority. Apparently she was a legacy member, which made Dominic fear the worst. Would she end up like her mother after all of that? Dominic didn’t want to think like that, but he couldn’t help it. As it turns out, Dominic was just being paranoid because the woman that he feel in love within high school was the same woman he graduated with.
And when they both graduated, there was such an overwhelming feeling that came over Dominic. When he saw her in her gown, when he saw how utterly happy she was, Dominic had realized something. All of his insecurities that he had, all of those doubts that she was with the wrong man, all of those thoughts that he had that she might leave him for someone better had gone away. The one thing that he knew was that he loved her; and at their party, in front of all of their friends, in front of all of their family, in front of all of those that cared deeply about them, Dominic probably surprised everyone — including himself — by getting down on one knee, holding out his mother’s grandmother’s Diamond and White gold engagement ring. The only person that knew about this was Dominic’s mother, but that was mainly because she’s his best friend right next to Tish. Of course she said yes — well, right after she stopped crying — and he slipped it on her.
When she said yes, there were cheers of happiness and support — well, except from Edith and Conrad. The former never approved of Dominic and the latter didn’t think it was anything to congratulate, not with his contempt he held for his son. Still, Dominic wouldn’t let it ruin his mood. Of course, it was much due in part that the look on Chloe’s face wouldn’t allow him to let his father ruin his big moment. Or rather, their big moment. Only a year later would they become official, because within the next 365 days, Dominic and Chloe were to bed wed, and were to be husband and wife.
F A M I L Y
Polish-German | Cuban | Slovac-Russian
Conrad Tobias Wells | Father | 53 | Lawyer; Owner of the Wells-Smith Law Firm | Face Claim: Robert Downey Jr.
Everyone knows Conrad as the giving, charible guy who always defends the weak. They know him as one-half of the Defense Dream Team on the East Side. They know him as the one guy to go to if you're in a tight bind, but they don't know the real COnrad Tobias Wells. They only know what he wants people to know. They don't know the cheating Conrad Wells; they don't know the lying Conrad Wells; they don't know the abusive, demeaning Conrad Wells.They don't know the Conrad Wells that has constantly belittled his own flesh and blood; they don't know the side of Conrad Wells ruined his family for a younger, hotter girl. The general public know nothing about the real Conrad Wells.
Alison Lianna Smith-Wells | Stepmother | 29 | Trophy Wife Finacial Accountant for Wells-Smith Law Firm | Face Claim: Amber Heard
Not much to say about this one. She was the one that stole Conrad away from Dominic's mother. As far as everyone is concerned, she is public enemy number one. At least, that's what Yesenia says.
Yesenia Constance Ramos| Mother |48 | Head of PR for the Wells-Smith Law Firm | Face Claim: Salma Hayek
Strong-willed, passionate, loving to a fault, and above all, the heart of the Ramos name. She might still carry Conrad's last name, but someone like he will not let him control what she does. She still has her position at the firm despite what he did. As far as she's concerned, half of the firm is hers. According to what she has hinted at, Conrad understands that. He doesn't question what she says or anything. He simply pretends that nothing happened - well at least in the work place. To Dominic, she is everything to him. A momma's boy for sure. He loves his mother, his mami. He doesn't care who knows. His mother is his everything - well, right next to Chloe, that is. If anything were to happen, he woldn't know what to do. A bonus is that she absolutely loves Chloe.
Anastasia Iris Ramos| Younger Sister | 18 | College Student at the University of Flordia | Face Claim: Victoria Justice
The feisty younger sister, Anastasia Iris "Ana" Ramos. Much like her mother and much like her father, Ana has a fire in her belly that could only be rivaled by the fires of hell. She says what she wants when she wants to. All that comes from her mouth is unfiltered. It doesn't matter if it's dirty, blunt, or whatever. If Ana thinks it, most likely she's going to say it. When it comes to her future sister-in-law, she adores her, but is kind of baffled that someone like her actually stuck around after finding out the crazy, hot mess that her family is, she questions Chloe's sanity. Maybe Chloe's own is just as crazy. Oh well. Her loss, perhaps.
A N Y T H I N G E L S E
Movie-wise, I am definitely looking forward to Spider-Man: Homecoming |
53,040 | 1,439 | 0 | 2,207 | 246 | Niall Collins
Having just sat down for a moment in one of the newly refurbished chairs in the small bed a breakfast the pack had purchased in light of the horrific last two years that they had had. Niall had just finished putting in the last of the furniture in the rooms to get the place ready for the first couple of guests that would be arriving in the next week or so. The Bed & Breakfast was small, two stories with the top floor having all of the guest bedrooms, 6 in total. Three of them had king size beds and the other three had two full size beds in each of them. There was a bathroom in each and then the bottom floor there was a single bathroom, a kitchen, a dining hall, and a lounge area.
The property itself was just over a 1,000 acres and was covered in large sections of woodlands as well as having some grassland areas. It would operate almost like a small little resort, the pack had bought the entire small town that surrounded the bed and breakfast and the members of the pack 'leased' the shops and the little cabins behind the bed and breakfast to live in and work out of. It was a steal truly that they had gotten all of this, it had needed some fixing up from being uninhabited for the last 5 or so years but that hadn't been a problem for the pack to fix things.
Now sitting here, everything was fixed and livable finally after the first month here had been spent sleeping in the barn with the animals they had gotten all of the small cabins done so everyone had a place to live and then they had fixed the bed and breakfast and the stores and little shops. He could finally breath a sigh of relief and relax a bit now that everything was done. Niall wasn't sure if that was a good thing or a bad thing. He peered out the small window in the bedroom he was sitting in and saw that the sun was starting to come up. Everyone else would be getting up soon and he would have to take the pack on a celebratory hunt when the sun started to set. Here they could be free, their property back the some thousands of acres that was the Big Horn National forest. It was slightly colder here than in their last home but they would make it, they were proving that right now. | Name: Willow Watersong
Gender: Female
Age: 23
Rank: Adult Female
Trade: Maid/Cleaner
Upright Appearance: 7.0 nose to tail, 143 pounds.
Personality: Willow is extremely shy. She likes cleaning for herself and others often times because it doesn't require talking to other people. Willow does go manic sometimes, cleaning quicker and more intense. If she doesn't have anything to do in those times, she becomes very bouncy, unable to keep still. Though she doesn't like talking to people, she does love to help and comfort others and enjoys the company of others.
History: Willow was given her gift from her mothers side, though her mother died at birth. It was quite a surprise to her father when he found out and he ended up throwing her out at a young age. She tracked down her mothers pack from clues left in her mothers diary and quietly blended into the pack life. She doesn't hold any grudges against her father and she threw herself into whatever was needed of her to hold what little place she had in the pack life. |
53,041 | 1,439 | 1 | 1,499 | 991 | Johnathan Woke on the twin mattress needing little. He took to the basin washing his face and shaving. He dressed in his brown jeans and an extremely faded blue jean shirt with brown buttons. Stepping outside he took in the rustic look and breathed the fresh air. It was a small community and he loved everything about it but the fence. It was explained to him why it was needed but he couldn't see past the imprisoned feeling it gave him. Not too long before he had a run in with a ranger in one of the parks. The dart in him and the cage he woke to it was small and it taught him the fear of small enclosures. Thankfully he was released to a different section of woods but he left not wanting to repeat the incident.
Now there was more land then he could mark and the upright wolves would never try to capture him. He knew that tonight was the hunt and it was a town activity. They would need wood so he went back to the tree he had cut up and lashed it to the yoke so he could pull it into town. He took off his shirt to keep it from tearing and laid it on the log. Using his inner strength made him feel good. Johnathan would get a little more hair on his limbs and chest but it was all right. His bare feet pushed into the earth and he felt the weight move with each step as he pulled it to the town. Once there it would rest where they would have the fire to celebrate the hunt later tonight. Just four more of these logs and the fire would burn all night. Johnathan was grunting at the weight and after the last log for the fire he took to the rain barrel and splashed some water over him. Cupping his hands he also took a few sips of the cool water. He looked around to see who was up and about.
Johnathan saw Runa's wave and returned it with one of his own. His smile didn't get any bigger but for him it was a good sign. He rushed over still sweating from the logs but by now had lost the extra hair. "Morning, can I help out I'm?" He had seen Runa around. She was a nice girl and a member of the town so that made her a friend in his eyes.
"You're very welcome." He said as he gave a friendly smile. "Glad to help out. I just got the wood for tonight's hunt. Its a nice day out so I like to get stuff done that needs doing." He walked with her carrying what she gave him like they were eggs.
Standing with the warm smile he quietly watched Runa's interaction with the child. Feeling the need to let them be his set the spools of fabric down in a clean spot. Johnathan waved "If there is nothing else I'll leave you two be." He made sure to close the door politely as he left to the kitchen to see if anyone needed his help. | Name:Johnathen Brisby
Gender: Male
Age: 32
Rank: Adult male
Trade: cook
Upright Appearance:
5'10 200lbs
Canine Appearance:
7'6 nose to tail 200lbs
Personality: The pack is Johns family and that makes him care for them like family. His passion is what keeps him from being more. John Loves to cook it was his passion the same way some painted or played a particular style of music. He could take any type of food and turn it into something that made even the most unsophisticated pallet take notice. Everything he did was basic and then the seasonings would change the melody or flavor from elevator music to Phil harmonic in surround sound. This is how John spoke to people. His mood was always intense but he was focused and generally happy. With no ambition other then to cook his standing in the pack is low. He follows the alpha out of instinct and his fathers teachings, John shows the proper respect at all times. His only raw nerve is the mistreatment of animals.
History: Johns parents were good, they raised him and taught him about the truth in his blood. He learned a lot from his father including his cooking ability. Having no competition as an only child John enjoyed the full attention of his parents. Being at the low end of the pack standing has alienated him from finding a mate. This lack of companionship redoubles his efforts to be a better cook. When John turned twenty a wanderlust had taken root. The tales of his experiences and the knowledge that was earned from having faced the trails of his travels give him the confidence he uses every day. He traveled for years until being found by the current pack.
Extra:None |
53,042 | 1,439 | 2 | 238 | 177 | The dawning sun left streaks of light across Runa’s face in her bed. A muffled groan as she woke slowly. A new day was here and she had some finishing touches up to her shop down in the small village to complete. The cute little shop was homey and cozy like her little cabin was and she couldn’t help but give a little smile to the empty bedroom that life had been so fortunate so far. Excited to open the shop for the first time ever she very nearly jumped out of bed.
As Omega no one would pay her much mind, it was almost like being a loner, something that Runa would be just as fine with. But, pack life was inviting. Even as the lowest ranking member. She liked it better than being an Alpha. There were so many rules then, but now as long as she did not break pack law she was free to do as she wished. Feeling liberated Runa did happy little dance as she pulled out some clothes for the day. Nothing fancy, just her favorite pair of jeans and a loose fitting T-shirt in a nice royal blue. The fabric well worn and butter soft against her pale freckled skin.
Brushing out her hip length strawberry blonde hair she quickly braided it down her back to keep it out of her face as she worked. No make up for this saucy she-wolf. Looking quickly in the full length mirror hanging off her bathroom door she decided she looked damn hot without it. A quick brush of her teeth and other daily morning to do’s and she was tugging on her standard black leather paddock boots and she was scooping up the newest editions to her collection of spools of fabric and bouncing out her door for brisk walk to the little village.
Almost unable to contain her smile behind her usual cool composure she settled for a bit of pep in her step her braid swinging to the beat of her walk offering a small wave (even with her arms full of fabric) to Johnantan if he chose to notice her, it pays to be polite and she didn’t want to get on anyone’s bad side. But, it also wouldn’t hurt to have a friend or two.
Runa gave Johnathan a bright smile as he jogged over. "If you'd like to help I certainly won't turn it away." She replied. "That's very kind of you to offer. Thank you." The smaller female would gingerly relinquish a few spools of fabric to him. "You're out and about early." She commented warmly.
A little laugh and she nodded in agreement stopping at the humble door of her little shop. The sign over the door advertising "Alterations, Repairs and Custom Clothing". The large window showing the dark interior, the silhouette of her sewing machine and front desk. The large windows lacking curtains but she had plenty of fabric to choose from and free time until she gathered clients to make a pair up. Balancing the spools in one arm she unlocked the door and let it swing open inward flicking on the lights as she entered. Setting the spools down on the front desk for now so she could take the ones in Johnathan's arms.
The shop was modest. With only two dressing stalls bereft of curtains as well and the standard three sided mirror. A fabric rack in the back corner was almost completely full and an antique dresser was full of other materials. Like ribbons, threads, needles and clothing patterns. Sewing forms were in a neat line against the back wall both genders were there in both adult, petite and junior sizes as well as a few child sized forms. "Tonight should be exciting!" Runa exclaimed leaning against the counter. "A nice thing to celebrate is heart warming." | Name:Runa Morgan
Gender: Female
Age: 32
Rank: Omega
Trade: Seamstress
Upright Appearance:
Runa stands at exactly five feet and is of a slender but womanly build at a little over 110 pounds.
Canine Appearance:
34" in height, 6.5' in length at 124lbs, her eyes are the typical amber in wolf form
Personality: Runa is a typical wall flower for the most part, preferring to observe rather than be observed. Though, if prompted can and will state her often jaded opinions. Despite her silent and gentle nature she has no problem with putting any one in their place if need be. Sometimes coming off as cold or snobbish to those know know little of her, but she is actually a very warm and caring person who smiles and laughs often. She has a tendency to blush often and can be shy, unless the teeth need to come out. She is demure in size, but what she lacks in strength she makes up for in agility and speed, her small size tends to lead to underestimation which can be fatal in the worst circumstances. Though if challenged she would most likely give up her position unless it was to leave the pack.
History: Runa was once a pack Heir to a smaller wolf pack up north, but before she could take rule, the pack was hunted and never rejoined after scattering across the country. Being an Heir is not something she shares openly, she feels unfit for the job as Alpha and thus remains at her lower rank, though the desire to lead never really leaves her she does not act upon it. To keep her lineage a secret she keeps mostly to herself, even going so far to lie or evade speaking about her past. Her parents were named Margaret and Holland Morgan. Margaret and Holland were not killed when the pack was scattered and moved closer to the equator for retirement. Runa still keeps in contact with them, but tension keeps it from being frequent.
Extra?: She enjoys being outdoors and horses had been one of her passions growing up, but she gives the Alpha a wide berth unless it is necessary. |
53,043 | 1,439 | 3 | 2,732 | 5,726 | Clay's arrival
A new guest
For the past few nights Clay could feel the full moon nearing, it's pull growing stronger and stronger each passing night. He had sought out familiar ground to see it out, only it wasn't too familiar any more.
The unexpected sight brings a growl deep in his throat as he arrives out the front entrance, his presence announced long before his arrival by the loud roar of his restored old Harley. He kicks the stand out as he shuts it off, he sits silently in thought looking over the done up establishment.
Clay had long lost much of his sense of smell after a serious motor bike accident that required some major facial reconstruction, but since becoming wolf it had started coming back, it was just difficult to distinguish. Something didn't smell right here but Clay wasn't sure what.
He chuckles to himself dismissing the thought, grabbing the leather rucksack from the back of his bike he flings it over his shoulder and fine leather jacket that sits open, flapping in the wind.
His heavy boots step one after another as he approaches and enters the entrance of the bed and breakfast, a cocky smirk on his face and a curious glint of excitement in his pale blue eyes.
*Knock, knock, knock*
"Hello?" | Celeste Forrester-Daniels
Father: Bronze Zahi Brighton
Mother: Kleo Daniels
Sibling/s: Tyrone Daniels
Upright Appearance: At just 2 years old, Celeste looks more like a child of 3 and a half years old. Despite her aging, she is still quite small for a wolf of her age, standing at just 2'4". In her human form she weighs about 25 pounds. Celeste is very slender and petite with pale blonde hair, bright blue eyes and fair skin. Because of her fair skin Celeste tends to burn easily when exposed to too much sun.
Canine Appearance: At first glance, some believe that Celeste's fur is just a pale blonde when in fact it is white in color. Her eyes are a pale blue and look gray in some lighting or when she is angry. Like her human form, her wolf form is quite small, standing at a height of 19 inches (1'5") and weighs in at 30 pounds.
Gender:
Female
Age:
2
Rank:
Pup
Trade:
Helper - She likes helping members if she is of use.
Personality:
At first glance, Celeste would seem like a bubbly child, bouncing all over the place but that couldn't be farther from the truth. To strangers Celeste would seem mute from how little she will talk. Even with people she is at ease with, Celeste doesn't speak much. She is a quiet little girl that is constantly watching those around her. She can be too curious for her own good. She is also terribly shy around most adults save for her adopted family. Not one to anger easily, once she is sent into a rage you better watch out because she won't hesitate to give you a piece of her mind. Of course afterward she will completely mortified and apologize profusely. Just as well, Celeste seems quite intelligent for her age group, even with the wolf aging process. She understands situations better than people would believe and she will stay out of peoples way if she thinks she is getting under their feet. Another trait of Celeste's is that she has very little self-preservation. as well, if she thinks someone is in trouble she will not hesitate to help. Lastly, Celeste has a bad habit of bottling up her problems. Even if she is having the worst day imaginable she will still put on a smile and insist everything is fine so she won't worry others around her.
History:
Celeste was born to a Beta mother in a pack that went by the name of Shadow Falls. Sadly there was little territory to go around and so her pack got into multiple disputes over land. Celeste had just turned two when her pack was attacked. Her mother managed to escape with her and Celeste to this day does not know if any other members of her pack survived. Her and her mother traveled for a few weeks before her mother grew sick. No matter how hard Celeste tried to nudge her mother up or call her name, her mother just wouldn't move. Crying, Celeste stumbled away looking for help and she was found by the Blue Ridge Pack. She was then adopted by the Beta Female, Kleo Daniels.
Extra:
Celeste enjoys singing, being quite good at it for one so young. Her mother also taught her how to play the piano. Celeste's favorite season is Fall and she doesn't know how to swim. |
53,044 | 1,439 | 4 | 238 | 177 | Runa's pale eyes darted to the sound of the silver doorbells to see who had just entered the shop. Her features warming into a gentle welcoming smile. "Good morning little Celeste!" She said motioning with a hand that the girl could come in. "It's funny you asked, because I believe I do." Runa bent down a little more to be at a closer eye level to the girl. Runa had always loved children, but still had no desire to raise any pups of her own just yet. With an extended lifespan who needed to rush? "I can't decide on what color curtains to put up in the window or for the dressing rooms. Do you think you could help me with that?"
She gave Johnathan another warm smile and a wave of goodbye a bubbly, "Thanks again!" as he left. | Name:Runa Morgan
Gender: Female
Age: 32
Rank: Omega
Trade: Seamstress
Upright Appearance:
Runa stands at exactly five feet and is of a slender but womanly build at a little over 110 pounds.
Canine Appearance:
34" in height, 6.5' in length at 124lbs, her eyes are the typical amber in wolf form
Personality: Runa is a typical wall flower for the most part, preferring to observe rather than be observed. Though, if prompted can and will state her often jaded opinions. Despite her silent and gentle nature she has no problem with putting any one in their place if need be. Sometimes coming off as cold or snobbish to those know know little of her, but she is actually a very warm and caring person who smiles and laughs often. She has a tendency to blush often and can be shy, unless the teeth need to come out. She is demure in size, but what she lacks in strength she makes up for in agility and speed, her small size tends to lead to underestimation which can be fatal in the worst circumstances. Though if challenged she would most likely give up her position unless it was to leave the pack.
History: Runa was once a pack Heir to a smaller wolf pack up north, but before she could take rule, the pack was hunted and never rejoined after scattering across the country. Being an Heir is not something she shares openly, she feels unfit for the job as Alpha and thus remains at her lower rank, though the desire to lead never really leaves her she does not act upon it. To keep her lineage a secret she keeps mostly to herself, even going so far to lie or evade speaking about her past. Her parents were named Margaret and Holland Morgan. Margaret and Holland were not killed when the pack was scattered and moved closer to the equator for retirement. Runa still keeps in contact with them, but tension keeps it from being frequent.
Extra?: She enjoys being outdoors and horses had been one of her passions growing up, but she gives the Alpha a wide berth unless it is necessary. |
53,045 | 1,439 | 5 | 2,732 | 5,726 | Celeste watched as Johnathan exited the shop after sitting the fabric down before she turned her attention back to Runa. As the older wolf knelt down to be more on Celeste's level, the child gave her a timid smile. At Runa's question on whether Celeste could help, the child nodded. "Momma used to let me help decorate the living room. Papa would help too though he normally just chased me around the table." The child said without thinking, the smile fading from her face as her words registered in her mind. The tears came once more and Celeste once again pushed them back. "S-So what can I help with first?" The child asked, forcing her sad thoughts away. Momma and Papa wouldn't want her to be sad, they always said her smile could brighten up anyone's day and so it was a crime to hide that smile from the world. | Celeste Forrester-Daniels
Father: Bronze Zahi Brighton
Mother: Kleo Daniels
Sibling/s: Tyrone Daniels
Upright Appearance: At just 2 years old, Celeste looks more like a child of 3 and a half years old. Despite her aging, she is still quite small for a wolf of her age, standing at just 2'4". In her human form she weighs about 25 pounds. Celeste is very slender and petite with pale blonde hair, bright blue eyes and fair skin. Because of her fair skin Celeste tends to burn easily when exposed to too much sun.
Canine Appearance: At first glance, some believe that Celeste's fur is just a pale blonde when in fact it is white in color. Her eyes are a pale blue and look gray in some lighting or when she is angry. Like her human form, her wolf form is quite small, standing at a height of 19 inches (1'5") and weighs in at 30 pounds.
Gender:
Female
Age:
2
Rank:
Pup
Trade:
Helper - She likes helping members if she is of use.
Personality:
At first glance, Celeste would seem like a bubbly child, bouncing all over the place but that couldn't be farther from the truth. To strangers Celeste would seem mute from how little she will talk. Even with people she is at ease with, Celeste doesn't speak much. She is a quiet little girl that is constantly watching those around her. She can be too curious for her own good. She is also terribly shy around most adults save for her adopted family. Not one to anger easily, once she is sent into a rage you better watch out because she won't hesitate to give you a piece of her mind. Of course afterward she will completely mortified and apologize profusely. Just as well, Celeste seems quite intelligent for her age group, even with the wolf aging process. She understands situations better than people would believe and she will stay out of peoples way if she thinks she is getting under their feet. Another trait of Celeste's is that she has very little self-preservation. as well, if she thinks someone is in trouble she will not hesitate to help. Lastly, Celeste has a bad habit of bottling up her problems. Even if she is having the worst day imaginable she will still put on a smile and insist everything is fine so she won't worry others around her.
History:
Celeste was born to a Beta mother in a pack that went by the name of Shadow Falls. Sadly there was little territory to go around and so her pack got into multiple disputes over land. Celeste had just turned two when her pack was attacked. Her mother managed to escape with her and Celeste to this day does not know if any other members of her pack survived. Her and her mother traveled for a few weeks before her mother grew sick. No matter how hard Celeste tried to nudge her mother up or call her name, her mother just wouldn't move. Crying, Celeste stumbled away looking for help and she was found by the Blue Ridge Pack. She was then adopted by the Beta Female, Kleo Daniels.
Extra:
Celeste enjoys singing, being quite good at it for one so young. Her mother also taught her how to play the piano. Celeste's favorite season is Fall and she doesn't know how to swim. |
53,046 | 1,439 | 6 | 238 | 177 | Runa did her best to hide how the child's sadness plucked at her heartstrings, only a barely visible tension around her eyes would show through as she gave the girl another smile. "Excellent then, you have plenty of experience in this then. There are a lot of colors and patterns to choose from and I trust you to pick the very best one." Scooping up the spools she had brought this morning she nodded her head in the direction of the fabric rack. "Come on then, little one." Runa would fill up the empty racks with the spools in her arms, setting the few extra on top of the dresser she was using for extra storage. Various colors and fabrics were at little Celeste's disposal. From cool blues to warm browns. Purples and pinks, greens and yellows even a few oranges. Cottons, silks, linens and even some spools of denim to make jeans. | Name:Runa Morgan
Gender: Female
Age: 32
Rank: Omega
Trade: Seamstress
Upright Appearance:
Runa stands at exactly five feet and is of a slender but womanly build at a little over 110 pounds.
Canine Appearance:
34" in height, 6.5' in length at 124lbs, her eyes are the typical amber in wolf form
Personality: Runa is a typical wall flower for the most part, preferring to observe rather than be observed. Though, if prompted can and will state her often jaded opinions. Despite her silent and gentle nature she has no problem with putting any one in their place if need be. Sometimes coming off as cold or snobbish to those know know little of her, but she is actually a very warm and caring person who smiles and laughs often. She has a tendency to blush often and can be shy, unless the teeth need to come out. She is demure in size, but what she lacks in strength she makes up for in agility and speed, her small size tends to lead to underestimation which can be fatal in the worst circumstances. Though if challenged she would most likely give up her position unless it was to leave the pack.
History: Runa was once a pack Heir to a smaller wolf pack up north, but before she could take rule, the pack was hunted and never rejoined after scattering across the country. Being an Heir is not something she shares openly, she feels unfit for the job as Alpha and thus remains at her lower rank, though the desire to lead never really leaves her she does not act upon it. To keep her lineage a secret she keeps mostly to herself, even going so far to lie or evade speaking about her past. Her parents were named Margaret and Holland Morgan. Margaret and Holland were not killed when the pack was scattered and moved closer to the equator for retirement. Runa still keeps in contact with them, but tension keeps it from being frequent.
Extra?: She enjoys being outdoors and horses had been one of her passions growing up, but she gives the Alpha a wide berth unless it is necessary. |
53,047 | 1,439 | 7 | 27 | 308 | Kleo Daniels
Kleo had arisen earlier in the morning, just before the sun had risen and before most of her pack-mates had as well. Her hair a fair mess as she found her way to a brush and bucket of water freshening up before standing tall and striding from buildings confines. Bright amber hues scouting forward as she took a deep breath in of the new territories scents. She'd spent the better part of her morning checking on all the animals throughout the fields and those still within the barn, stopping to help other pack-mates with anything necessary before finding herself now entering back into the slowly coming alive community of lycans.
Bright smile tearing across her face as she headed for her cabin, her instincts telling her Celeste was already out and about whilst Tyrone was more than likely still dead to the world. As she neared the wooden porch she'd allow herself to glance around, listening to those around as she rolled her shoulders and quickly stepped up the few necessary levels to enter the building.
"Ty? Bronze? Celeste?" she'd calmly ask in hushed tones. She'd full well known both Bronze and little Celeste had found things elsewhere to attend to and she made slow approach to the one room she knew slumbering pale child would probably still be. As she approached the agape doorway she'd raise slender limb to gentle push open the door enough for her head to peek through at the well tired young pup, I'll let him get away with it this time, she'd think to herself before exiting and pulling the door back to it's original position.
Though that's when it hit her, something felt a little off, she had a cabin closer to the bed and breakfast closer so that the pups could get around easier and were always within hearing range. The hairs on her neck raising slightly as she felt something different in the air, not yet aware of exactly what as she'd make her way out front of the cabin and settle glared sights upon the nearby building where most would gather for the mornings noisy breakfast.
Tyrone Daniels
Groaned lightly as legs and arms were tossed about, small head cocking this way and that as young form tossed and turned through what appeared like uncertain dreams. His movements natural for his mother to witness as he was an over imaginative and over eager child, though heavy sleeper he was in-deed no matter what seemed to be going on around him or within his mind. The movement of those in the cabin and outside offering little change to slumbering demeanor and approach of stranger upon territory causing little stir to his tired eyes.
As mother entered once more to check on him he'd flicker eyes open for split second in unconscious state before flipping and laying upon stomach, face within suns rays as they penetrated uncovered windows surface. Though he'd not awaken even as parental exited to pursue other activities. Tyrone, for now, continued to slumber, the sounds of occasional grunting or groaning emerging the room as he tossed and turned waiting until some unfair soul decided it was time to get up. | Name:Clayton 'Clay' Radshaw
GenderMale
Age:32
Rank:Adult
Trade:Electrician/ mechanic
Upright Appearance:
Canine Appearance:
Personality: Clay, while a bit rough-around-the-edges is pretty care free and easy going guy. He can be a little arrogant and over confident and extremely head strong and stubborn at times. He is pretty quick to resort to violence or at least threats, the strike first ask questions later type.
Character flaws aside he has a generally good heart and will make sacrifices for others. Behind his arrogance he doesn't really believe he is worth dirt, often denying his own happiness believing he must suffer for mistakes of the past. He's the kind of guy that trouble is attracted too.
History: Clay hasn't been part of a pack for a while, maybe even ever.
The lone wolf, he never stays in one place too long, always cutting ties and moving on. The traveller. |
53,048 | 1,439 | 8 | 2,732 | 5,726 | Celeste felt her eyes widen as Runa lay out more fabric than she had ever laid eyes upon. It looked like every color was there as well as a few she didn't know the name of. And so many pretty patterns! There were so many, how would she ever chose? The child stood there, brushing her curls back from her face as her eyes ran over all the fabric. Right then. She eliminated the denim right away. While the fabric made good clothes, it had no place hanging in the window. Next, her eyes ran over all the bright colors but she scratched them off the list. If it hurt her eyes to look at them then it will probably hurt others eyes. Besides, if the sun shone through the bright fabric it would make it too blinding to even glance at. With one hand placed on her hip and the other tapping her chin thoughtfully, Celeste examined what was left. Finally she pointed to a baby blue fabric made from cotton with delicate white swirls spiraling across the fabric. "I think that one should be for the window andddddd..." She scanned her eyes once more over the spools before she finally pointed at a purple fabric that faded in a white ombre near the bottom. "And that one for the dressing rooms." | Celeste Forrester-Daniels
Father: Bronze Zahi Brighton
Mother: Kleo Daniels
Sibling/s: Tyrone Daniels
Upright Appearance: At just 2 years old, Celeste looks more like a child of 3 and a half years old. Despite her aging, she is still quite small for a wolf of her age, standing at just 2'4". In her human form she weighs about 25 pounds. Celeste is very slender and petite with pale blonde hair, bright blue eyes and fair skin. Because of her fair skin Celeste tends to burn easily when exposed to too much sun.
Canine Appearance: At first glance, some believe that Celeste's fur is just a pale blonde when in fact it is white in color. Her eyes are a pale blue and look gray in some lighting or when she is angry. Like her human form, her wolf form is quite small, standing at a height of 19 inches (1'5") and weighs in at 30 pounds.
Gender:
Female
Age:
2
Rank:
Pup
Trade:
Helper - She likes helping members if she is of use.
Personality:
At first glance, Celeste would seem like a bubbly child, bouncing all over the place but that couldn't be farther from the truth. To strangers Celeste would seem mute from how little she will talk. Even with people she is at ease with, Celeste doesn't speak much. She is a quiet little girl that is constantly watching those around her. She can be too curious for her own good. She is also terribly shy around most adults save for her adopted family. Not one to anger easily, once she is sent into a rage you better watch out because she won't hesitate to give you a piece of her mind. Of course afterward she will completely mortified and apologize profusely. Just as well, Celeste seems quite intelligent for her age group, even with the wolf aging process. She understands situations better than people would believe and she will stay out of peoples way if she thinks she is getting under their feet. Another trait of Celeste's is that she has very little self-preservation. as well, if she thinks someone is in trouble she will not hesitate to help. Lastly, Celeste has a bad habit of bottling up her problems. Even if she is having the worst day imaginable she will still put on a smile and insist everything is fine so she won't worry others around her.
History:
Celeste was born to a Beta mother in a pack that went by the name of Shadow Falls. Sadly there was little territory to go around and so her pack got into multiple disputes over land. Celeste had just turned two when her pack was attacked. Her mother managed to escape with her and Celeste to this day does not know if any other members of her pack survived. Her and her mother traveled for a few weeks before her mother grew sick. No matter how hard Celeste tried to nudge her mother up or call her name, her mother just wouldn't move. Crying, Celeste stumbled away looking for help and she was found by the Blue Ridge Pack. She was then adopted by the Beta Female, Kleo Daniels.
Extra:
Celeste enjoys singing, being quite good at it for one so young. Her mother also taught her how to play the piano. Celeste's favorite season is Fall and she doesn't know how to swim. |
53,049 | 1,439 | 9 | 2,506 | 25 | Niall
Niall was still sitting and relaxing a few moments when there was a distinct knock on the door of the bed and breakfast. He stood swiftly, knowing anyone in the pack would not bother knocking and saying hello. For a moment he wondered if it was a guest who was mistaken about the grand opening date for the place, that was quickly displaces as he got closer to the door and realize it was wolf, he'd heard a motorcycle and really hoped he wasn't going to have to get into a fight today. They'd had many join the pack in the last several years, his parents had always given people a chance and he would as well. It had diversified their pack and made them strong, they had been one of the biggest packs in the United States before the killings started.
Niall pulled himself up to his full height, pulling in a deep whiff of air before he opened the door. On the other side of the door was a male who looked as if he spent most of his time on the road.
"What can I do for you?" Niall rumbled in a low bass voice. The wolf appeared to only be curious right now, Niall didn't particularly the cocky grin on his face but he was fairly sure he hadn't been expecting an Alpha to answer the door the bed and breakfast though he should have been able to scent Niall.
He could see Elize out of the corner of his eye headed straight for them, she was striking really. Most she-wolves were not built in the manner that she was. She was tall and lean with long thick locks of hair and her blue eyes shone fiercely as she walked towards them just fast enough to make her hair whip around her face. She always looked like she was in the middle of her own personal storm.
Elize
The tall, tawny, shepherdess bared her teeth and stretched, as she awakened fully. She had been awake for a bit but not quite to the level she might have ought to have been. Unlike many of the pack Elize slept in her wolf form, nothing like being unprepared and asleep. She had learned long ago to never sleep unprepared, her whole pack had been slaughtered like nothing and she was the only one of her bloodline left and she had not escaped unharmed. Scars littered her blonde muzzle and her face along with her front legs. She hadn't been very old then, only twelve but she had fought for her life.
She shook away the memories as she shifted back into her human form, her body resizing and reframing itself. Even in her human form she was tall and well muscled but her hair was dark while her skin was a frosty white dotted with freckles across the bridge of her nose and across her shoulders. She pulled on a pair of dark jeans that wouldn't get in the way while she tended to the animals. Slipping her loos blouse over her head she headed out the door. Her cabin was the farthest away from the bed and breakfast but she had the best nose by far of any of the wolves in the pack. Living alone for so many years had given her a tune up most wolves would never wish upon their worst enemy. Her sharp features tensed, her nose flaring as she partially switched, just allowing the wolf to raise its great head enough to assist her human nose.
There was a wolf here who wasn't supposed to be, Elize narrowed her eyes as she moved towards the scent. She was currently down wind of the foreign wolf but she made a direct route for the source of the scent. It was clearly a male but with a pack here to back her up she had little to fear. She had looked death in the face several times before now. | Name:Bronze Zahi Brighton
Gender:Male
Age:28
Rank:Beta Male
Trade: Merchant/General Store Keeper
mate:Kleo Daniels
Pups:Tyrone Daniels(adopted) & Celeste Forrester-Daniels (adopted)
Upright Appearance:
Making a appearance of six feet and 3 inches, Bronze is heavily muscled with a few tattoo's covering his body.
Canine Appearance:
He is a large wolf, weighting in at 58kg with a length of 1.9m from nose to tail
Personality: Bronze has a straight forward way of seeing the world. He always has a vibrant smile at hand to dissolve situations that arises, though it seemed to have dimmed somewhat due to events in his past. He takes his responsibility's seriously, keeping his word when given. He loves challenges, and follows after them with single minded purpose till said task is done. He is easy to talk to, enjoying company of others and never judging them till he has his own opinion of said person. He has a pessimistic thoughts at times, though he usually keeps it to himself.
History: Bronze parents were named Jerry and Lisa Brighton. They belonged to a pack that was mostly centered in Northern Canada, roaming the very edges of Civilizations, avoiding hunters that seemed to be constantly on their trail. He never met his father, for he had been slain before he was born, through he proud of his papa, for his mama told him many tales about him and his bravery. He spent five years on the run with his pack. Through it was nightmarish, he would always treasure the time they spent together with his pack, though it didn't last, for in the sixth year his mama had been caught, never seeing her son again. After that, the pack grew smaller at a even faster rate. The last of the pack, two females and himself, aimed for the states to get away from the hunters. Somehow the hunters knew their destination, setting up a trap. The last of his pack, the two he was with, died on the border, getting him across on a train and setting him up with money and addresses that he could use to hide before kissing his cheek in goodbye as they placed him in a container smuggling him on the train bound for Denver. Years later found him still wandering around the states, passing through packs and cities, trying to find a place in this world where the hunted could find peace. He found the blue ridge pack After years of wondering. He still not sure if staying put in one place is good, but he was sick of always moving and decided with join the pack.
Extra: He likes going by the nickname Zay. And he plan's on opening a bar in the future. |
53,050 | 1,439 | 10 | 27 | 308 | CLAY
Niall's question seemingly rolls right over Clay. There was a subtle reaction but a keen observer would notice it, in that split moment of initial eye contact Clay tensed up, his muscles tightened, his jaw clenched and his nostrils flared. But what ever he felt he hid it well as he casually lean's against the door way, his eyes locking with Niall's.
While staring him down he catches a glint of Elize in Niall's gaze and instinctively twists to see what approaches. Instantly his smirk grows into a full smile as he shamelessly enjoys the view. He chuckles softly watching her approach, looking up and down her tall and lean body he eventually catches the ferocity in her blue eyes.
"Uh-oh, So, uh this yours?" He asks gesturing to the building around them but still watching Elize with a predatory gaze. With his pale blue eyes exhuming his rugged charm, he runs a hand through his hair pulling it back in preparation of her arrival. | Name:Clayton 'Clay' Radshaw
GenderMale
Age:32
Rank:Adult
Trade:Electrician/ mechanic
Upright Appearance:
Canine Appearance:
Personality: Clay, while a bit rough-around-the-edges is pretty care free and easy going guy. He can be a little arrogant and over confident and extremely head strong and stubborn at times. He is pretty quick to resort to violence or at least threats, the strike first ask questions later type.
Character flaws aside he has a generally good heart and will make sacrifices for others. Behind his arrogance he doesn't really believe he is worth dirt, often denying his own happiness believing he must suffer for mistakes of the past. He's the kind of guy that trouble is attracted too.
History: Clay hasn't been part of a pack for a while, maybe even ever.
The lone wolf, he never stays in one place too long, always cutting ties and moving on. The traveller. |
53,051 | 1,439 | 11 | 238 | 177 | "Excellent choices, my lady! They shall make fine curtains indeed!" Runa said playfully with a laugh. As she started out rolling out enough fabric for the curtains. She had done all manner of measurements the day before and was well prepared. "Tricky part now is what color of threads to pick out for purple one." Runa explained on as she gathered first the blue fabric in her arms and set it on her large table, on it sat a large square ruler good for clothing measurements, but for now a standard tape measure would suffice. But, she stopped mid task of spreading out the fabric as a shudder shook up her spine. "Darling Celeste, I think it's time we took you back to Kleo and Bronze... They must be wondering where you are." She didn't want to scare the girl so she said. "I'm sure you're hungry by now, growing pups need to eat if they want to be strong and I have no kitchen here to feed you."
The small strawberry blonde Omega stuck out one shapely hand to the girl and again gave her a warm inviting smile. | Name:Runa Morgan
Gender: Female
Age: 32
Rank: Omega
Trade: Seamstress
Upright Appearance:
Runa stands at exactly five feet and is of a slender but womanly build at a little over 110 pounds.
Canine Appearance:
34" in height, 6.5' in length at 124lbs, her eyes are the typical amber in wolf form
Personality: Runa is a typical wall flower for the most part, preferring to observe rather than be observed. Though, if prompted can and will state her often jaded opinions. Despite her silent and gentle nature she has no problem with putting any one in their place if need be. Sometimes coming off as cold or snobbish to those know know little of her, but she is actually a very warm and caring person who smiles and laughs often. She has a tendency to blush often and can be shy, unless the teeth need to come out. She is demure in size, but what she lacks in strength she makes up for in agility and speed, her small size tends to lead to underestimation which can be fatal in the worst circumstances. Though if challenged she would most likely give up her position unless it was to leave the pack.
History: Runa was once a pack Heir to a smaller wolf pack up north, but before she could take rule, the pack was hunted and never rejoined after scattering across the country. Being an Heir is not something she shares openly, she feels unfit for the job as Alpha and thus remains at her lower rank, though the desire to lead never really leaves her she does not act upon it. To keep her lineage a secret she keeps mostly to herself, even going so far to lie or evade speaking about her past. Her parents were named Margaret and Holland Morgan. Margaret and Holland were not killed when the pack was scattered and moved closer to the equator for retirement. Runa still keeps in contact with them, but tension keeps it from being frequent.
Extra?: She enjoys being outdoors and horses had been one of her passions growing up, but she gives the Alpha a wide berth unless it is necessary. |
53,052 | 1,439 | 12 | 2,732 | 5,726 | Celeste Forrester-Daniels
Celeste watched in fascination as Runa began laying out the fabric in preparation to cut them. "Do the threads need to be the same color?" Celeste asked curiously, standing on her tip toes to see over the counter. However, before Runa answered her question the child saw a shiver race down the older wolf's spine. Celeste tilted her head in curiosity. Was Runa cold? The air had a certain chill to it and Celeste herself got shivers from time to time if she stood outside for too long. At Runa stating Celeste needed to go back to Kleo and Bronze, then commenting on how the child might be hungry, Celeste's stomach grumbled. The child blushed, looking down at her feet as she nodded. She reached up to take Runa's hand.
~.~
The walked to the cabin didn't take very long and Celeste could smell the scent of food emanating from the kitchen. As they grew closer to the cabin, Celeste could see a figure standing outside. She recognized the tall form of Bronze. She guessed that maybe Kleo was inside waking Tyrone. Celeste knew the other child wasn't a morning person and would sleep in as long as he could get away with. Quite the opposite of Celeste who was up with the sun. Unless she went to bed late, then she didn't wake up as early. As they drew alongside Bronze's side, Celeste gave him a small wave. "H-Hello Mister Bronze." Celeste said in a soft voice. Seeing as she had only been her a few weeks, she hadn't gotten to know her knew familiy well enough to not be tack on honorifics to the adults name. | Celeste Forrester-Daniels
Father: Bronze Zahi Brighton
Mother: Kleo Daniels
Sibling/s: Tyrone Daniels
Upright Appearance: At just 2 years old, Celeste looks more like a child of 3 and a half years old. Despite her aging, she is still quite small for a wolf of her age, standing at just 2'4". In her human form she weighs about 25 pounds. Celeste is very slender and petite with pale blonde hair, bright blue eyes and fair skin. Because of her fair skin Celeste tends to burn easily when exposed to too much sun.
Canine Appearance: At first glance, some believe that Celeste's fur is just a pale blonde when in fact it is white in color. Her eyes are a pale blue and look gray in some lighting or when she is angry. Like her human form, her wolf form is quite small, standing at a height of 19 inches (1'5") and weighs in at 30 pounds.
Gender:
Female
Age:
2
Rank:
Pup
Trade:
Helper - She likes helping members if she is of use.
Personality:
At first glance, Celeste would seem like a bubbly child, bouncing all over the place but that couldn't be farther from the truth. To strangers Celeste would seem mute from how little she will talk. Even with people she is at ease with, Celeste doesn't speak much. She is a quiet little girl that is constantly watching those around her. She can be too curious for her own good. She is also terribly shy around most adults save for her adopted family. Not one to anger easily, once she is sent into a rage you better watch out because she won't hesitate to give you a piece of her mind. Of course afterward she will completely mortified and apologize profusely. Just as well, Celeste seems quite intelligent for her age group, even with the wolf aging process. She understands situations better than people would believe and she will stay out of peoples way if she thinks she is getting under their feet. Another trait of Celeste's is that she has very little self-preservation. as well, if she thinks someone is in trouble she will not hesitate to help. Lastly, Celeste has a bad habit of bottling up her problems. Even if she is having the worst day imaginable she will still put on a smile and insist everything is fine so she won't worry others around her.
History:
Celeste was born to a Beta mother in a pack that went by the name of Shadow Falls. Sadly there was little territory to go around and so her pack got into multiple disputes over land. Celeste had just turned two when her pack was attacked. Her mother managed to escape with her and Celeste to this day does not know if any other members of her pack survived. Her and her mother traveled for a few weeks before her mother grew sick. No matter how hard Celeste tried to nudge her mother up or call her name, her mother just wouldn't move. Crying, Celeste stumbled away looking for help and she was found by the Blue Ridge Pack. She was then adopted by the Beta Female, Kleo Daniels.
Extra:
Celeste enjoys singing, being quite good at it for one so young. Her mother also taught her how to play the piano. Celeste's favorite season is Fall and she doesn't know how to swim. |
53,053 | 1,439 | 13 | 2,506 | 25 | Elize Vanzant
Elize Vanzant did not shy from her route, her face did not waver as the strange male eyed her. She could easily guess that he wasn't nearly the size of Niall, lone males tended to be towards the middle of the body range size. Very rarely were they as large as a reining Alpha. That was the thing about Lycans, males grew when they gained the title of Alpha but you had to already be large enough to win. Males didn't win by smarts alone, even in an Ordeal they did not win by that. They had to win by brute force mostly, size always mattered.
Even though he was undoubtedly much larger than her that was the difference between a bitch and a male. She was cunning, fast, and sleek where his bulk would slow him considerably. Elize also had another trick up her sleeve, as she moved closer she did not slow. Instead the willowy she-wolf's body started to flicker violently before she morphed between one step and the next into a tall blonde wolf. There was a calmness about her, her ears level and uninterested and her tail level with her back.
She could hear them talking easily, simply unthreatening conversation but Elize was not one to talk. A coward of a lone wolf was the reason her own pack was dead. She made her way easily towards the pair, moving at an easy ground covering trot. She stepped up onto the porch of the bed and breakfast. Unlike the other members of the pack Elize did not blend in with humans, she never went to town for that very reason. There was something just too predatory about her that frightened humans. Something they couldn't quite put their finger on.
Niall Collins
Niall kept himself relaxed, this could go badly very quickly if he didn't keep his cool. When the male turned his eyes to Elize he wasn't particularly excited about that but there was little he could do right now. Besides, Elize might as well have been feral. She only tolerated the existence of anything other than her sheep and the pack's livestock and that was just barely.
"Yes, we bought the property to have a place of our own. It will only be open during the tourist season to the public. You're wasting your time there. She may as well be feral, barely tolerates other living things other than her sheep." He rumbled with a bit of a smile. He stood easily in the doorway, "Are you needing a room or just stopping in?" Niall questioned the male. He wasn't being unfriendly simply getting to the point behind this visit.
Clearly Elize appealed to the male in some fashion but he wasn't quite sure what his interest in coming here had been. A lone wolf was not a match for a pack of wolves. He would be a fool to attempt to try anything serious so that eased Niall's mind as he stood idly and waited for a response. He nodded at her when she arrived on the porch. | Name:Bronze Zahi Brighton
Gender:Male
Age:28
Rank:Beta Male
Trade: Merchant/General Store Keeper
mate:Kleo Daniels
Pups:Tyrone Daniels(adopted) & Celeste Forrester-Daniels (adopted)
Upright Appearance:
Making a appearance of six feet and 3 inches, Bronze is heavily muscled with a few tattoo's covering his body.
Canine Appearance:
He is a large wolf, weighting in at 58kg with a length of 1.9m from nose to tail
Personality: Bronze has a straight forward way of seeing the world. He always has a vibrant smile at hand to dissolve situations that arises, though it seemed to have dimmed somewhat due to events in his past. He takes his responsibility's seriously, keeping his word when given. He loves challenges, and follows after them with single minded purpose till said task is done. He is easy to talk to, enjoying company of others and never judging them till he has his own opinion of said person. He has a pessimistic thoughts at times, though he usually keeps it to himself.
History: Bronze parents were named Jerry and Lisa Brighton. They belonged to a pack that was mostly centered in Northern Canada, roaming the very edges of Civilizations, avoiding hunters that seemed to be constantly on their trail. He never met his father, for he had been slain before he was born, through he proud of his papa, for his mama told him many tales about him and his bravery. He spent five years on the run with his pack. Through it was nightmarish, he would always treasure the time they spent together with his pack, though it didn't last, for in the sixth year his mama had been caught, never seeing her son again. After that, the pack grew smaller at a even faster rate. The last of the pack, two females and himself, aimed for the states to get away from the hunters. Somehow the hunters knew their destination, setting up a trap. The last of his pack, the two he was with, died on the border, getting him across on a train and setting him up with money and addresses that he could use to hide before kissing his cheek in goodbye as they placed him in a container smuggling him on the train bound for Denver. Years later found him still wandering around the states, passing through packs and cities, trying to find a place in this world where the hunted could find peace. He found the blue ridge pack After years of wondering. He still not sure if staying put in one place is good, but he was sick of always moving and decided with join the pack.
Extra: He likes going by the nickname Zay. And he plan's on opening a bar in the future. |
53,054 | 1,439 | 14 | 238 | 177 | Runa smiled down at little Celeste and again at Bronze. "Thank you, I'm fine. Both with my shop and with myself, though your concern is very much appreciated and extended back to you." Runa easily let Celeste go in favor of letting her go to Bronze. The small female wolf in a rather good mood and it showed in her warmer than usual smile.
When pleasantries would be over, Runa would give both Celeste and Bronze a final good bye before going back to her shop to work the rest of her day away. Curtains didn't make themselves! | Name:Runa Morgan
Gender: Female
Age: 32
Rank: Omega
Trade: Seamstress
Upright Appearance:
Runa stands at exactly five feet and is of a slender but womanly build at a little over 110 pounds.
Canine Appearance:
34" in height, 6.5' in length at 124lbs, her eyes are the typical amber in wolf form
Personality: Runa is a typical wall flower for the most part, preferring to observe rather than be observed. Though, if prompted can and will state her often jaded opinions. Despite her silent and gentle nature she has no problem with putting any one in their place if need be. Sometimes coming off as cold or snobbish to those know know little of her, but she is actually a very warm and caring person who smiles and laughs often. She has a tendency to blush often and can be shy, unless the teeth need to come out. She is demure in size, but what she lacks in strength she makes up for in agility and speed, her small size tends to lead to underestimation which can be fatal in the worst circumstances. Though if challenged she would most likely give up her position unless it was to leave the pack.
History: Runa was once a pack Heir to a smaller wolf pack up north, but before she could take rule, the pack was hunted and never rejoined after scattering across the country. Being an Heir is not something she shares openly, she feels unfit for the job as Alpha and thus remains at her lower rank, though the desire to lead never really leaves her she does not act upon it. To keep her lineage a secret she keeps mostly to herself, even going so far to lie or evade speaking about her past. Her parents were named Margaret and Holland Morgan. Margaret and Holland were not killed when the pack was scattered and moved closer to the equator for retirement. Runa still keeps in contact with them, but tension keeps it from being frequent.
Extra?: She enjoys being outdoors and horses had been one of her passions growing up, but she gives the Alpha a wide berth unless it is necessary. |
53,055 | 1,439 | 15 | 27 | 308 | Niall Collins
Niall was not one to show much of a facial expression if any at all, though anyone who knew him well enough might have seen the glint of laughter in his eyes. 'Surely this kid knows that we can all tell he's a wolf.' he thought as he watched this new stranger carefully. Elize was impressive but it came from being so close to the beast that lay in her heart. From what he had pieced together over the years she had been with them she had lived exclusively in her lupine form for nearly five years before becoming part of their pack. Even now she probably spent nearly ninety percent of her time in her her fur rather than in her skin.
"Elize does't come inside, she dislikes the walls. I told you she was mostly lupine, more so than many of us, myself included." He spoke matter of factly, simply stating the truth. Though he wasn't amused by the comments there was little he could do right now, if Elize took issue with it she would have likely been at his throat already so he left it alone. He hummed slightly after he spoke, moving out of the doorway and towards a little room just along the inside of the wall where he unlocked and opened the small box where they kept the room keys to retrieve one for a room with a single bed.
Due to his extreme height Niall was forced to duck his head to get inside the little room and get out of it. He swung the door shut and locked it back before returning to where Clay was standing. He offered the key to the room to the other male as he spoke, "Last room on the left up those stairs." He gestured to the staircase at the back corner of the lounge room, "Also, it would take more than having a werewolf approved door to get her indoors."
Elize Vanzant
Elize bared a mouth full of white teeth that contrasted sharply with the black skin of her gums as she emitted what could only be described as a snicker when she very clearly frightened the male. The Moon knows she had frightened people and even killed before but this had been far too easily done for her to over look. There was just something not right about a male being afraid of a bitch in her fur. She had been fiercely admired only a few moments before but now he wasn't very keen to look at her.
Most bitches were not covered in scars as she was but she had been admired for her exotic coat color and her golden eyes from the time she was a child. They had fawned over her and males had lavished her and her pack with gifts and she had been a very powerful playing piece, especially as she became older. Her hulking size for a female wasn't something entirely unusual here, Kleo was around the same size but they were both on the larger end of the spectrum for bitches. Unlike Kleo, however, Elize's face, chest, and front legs were covered with shimmering grey scars and lines of white hair where scars lay beneath her thick tawny coat. A line of bare black skin lined her golden eyes, making them stand out and as she transformed back into a human she kept them.
Her body vibrated easily but shifted more slowly this time, allowing the process to be watched fully as she stored the wolf away all but the parts of her she allowed to stay on the surface. She gave Clay a wide smile filled with teeth that didn't belong there all the while watching him with brilliant golden eyes, "Perhaps he can join our celebratory hunt tonight, Niall. The moon is not full just yet but we have enough space to play here." Her high soprano voice rang easily as she pushed the last of the wolf away, eyes fading back to a luminous blue. Like always though her wolf lay just barely below the surface, always awake and waiting. | Name:Clayton 'Clay' Radshaw
GenderMale
Age:32
Rank:Adult
Trade:Electrician/ mechanic
Upright Appearance:
Canine Appearance:
Personality: Clay, while a bit rough-around-the-edges is pretty care free and easy going guy. He can be a little arrogant and over confident and extremely head strong and stubborn at times. He is pretty quick to resort to violence or at least threats, the strike first ask questions later type.
Character flaws aside he has a generally good heart and will make sacrifices for others. Behind his arrogance he doesn't really believe he is worth dirt, often denying his own happiness believing he must suffer for mistakes of the past. He's the kind of guy that trouble is attracted too.
History: Clay hasn't been part of a pack for a while, maybe even ever.
The lone wolf, he never stays in one place too long, always cutting ties and moving on. The traveller. |
53,056 | 1,439 | 16 | 2,207 | 246 | Willow
Willow finished taking care of her garden, she stepped back to admire her work and then went back inside, sitting down at her loom. She started making a rug, the bar snapping and her fingers flying across the strings. The snapping become the only sound in the house and she simply continued to make layers and layers and layers, not really sure what else to do with herself in this new place, having not really seen anyone around lately.
"Maybe this could go in one of the rooms.." She murmured as she crafted elaborate designs in the rug. | Name: Willow Watersong
Gender: Female
Age: 23
Rank: Adult Female
Trade: Maid/Cleaner
Upright Appearance: 7.0 nose to tail, 143 pounds.
Personality: Willow is extremely shy. She likes cleaning for herself and others often times because it doesn't require talking to other people. Willow does go manic sometimes, cleaning quicker and more intense. If she doesn't have anything to do in those times, she becomes very bouncy, unable to keep still. Though she doesn't like talking to people, she does love to help and comfort others and enjoys the company of others.
History: Willow was given her gift from her mothers side, though her mother died at birth. It was quite a surprise to her father when he found out and he ended up throwing her out at a young age. She tracked down her mothers pack from clues left in her mothers diary and quietly blended into the pack life. She doesn't hold any grudges against her father and she threw herself into whatever was needed of her to hold what little place she had in the pack life. |
53,057 | 1,439 | 17 | 2,207 | 246 | Willow Watersong
The snapping finally came to a halt as she finished the elaborate rug. She pulled it off the loom and laid it on the floor, fixing the little mistakes with quick and exact movements. This would be perfect for one of the rooms. Willow thought as she held up the completed and self-approved product, No ones staying yet so it shouldn't be any trouble to just pop in and place it in a room.
She bundled up the rug in her arms as best she could and walked out, closing the door behind her with much difficulty. She decided it wasn't worth it to lock it so she simply strode with confident steps towards the bed and breakfast.
She slipped in quietly, not that she was trying to sneak around or anything, she just always felt the need to be quiet. Up the stairs she went and she went to the most unlikely room she could think of... the last room on the left. The door was slightly cracked, but she thought nothing of it as she walked in and with a whipping motion, she laid the rug on the floor, not once stopping to notice Clay . | Name: Willow Watersong
Gender: Female
Age: 23
Rank: Adult Female
Trade: Maid/Cleaner
Upright Appearance: 7.0 nose to tail, 143 pounds.
Personality: Willow is extremely shy. She likes cleaning for herself and others often times because it doesn't require talking to other people. Willow does go manic sometimes, cleaning quicker and more intense. If she doesn't have anything to do in those times, she becomes very bouncy, unable to keep still. Though she doesn't like talking to people, she does love to help and comfort others and enjoys the company of others.
History: Willow was given her gift from her mothers side, though her mother died at birth. It was quite a surprise to her father when he found out and he ended up throwing her out at a young age. She tracked down her mothers pack from clues left in her mothers diary and quietly blended into the pack life. She doesn't hold any grudges against her father and she threw herself into whatever was needed of her to hold what little place she had in the pack life. |
53,058 | 1,439 | 18 | 2,207 | 246 | There was no two ways about, Clay was on edge. This place, these lycans, the nearing full moon, the sleepless nights and endless nightmares... He was ready to snap.
Firstly a faint smell reached his nostrils reawakening anxiety, a creek in the floor aroused his attention and then the sudden blur of shadows threw him into survival mode!
In an instant he shot up, sitting upright in the bed his arm furiously comes whipping around towards Willow. When it suddenly comes to a halt before her, there is a loud 'click' as he thumbs back the metallic hammer of a large black steel 'smith and wesson' .44 magnum revolver aimed straight at her head.
The scent of alchemical silver even noticeable to his own broken sense of smell.
"What are you doing in here?" He growls furiously. His eyes darting around the rest of the room as he tries to blink the sleep away. | Name: Willow Watersong
Gender: Female
Age: 23
Rank: Adult Female
Trade: Maid/Cleaner
Upright Appearance: 7.0 nose to tail, 143 pounds.
Personality: Willow is extremely shy. She likes cleaning for herself and others often times because it doesn't require talking to other people. Willow does go manic sometimes, cleaning quicker and more intense. If she doesn't have anything to do in those times, she becomes very bouncy, unable to keep still. Though she doesn't like talking to people, she does love to help and comfort others and enjoys the company of others.
History: Willow was given her gift from her mothers side, though her mother died at birth. It was quite a surprise to her father when he found out and he ended up throwing her out at a young age. She tracked down her mothers pack from clues left in her mothers diary and quietly blended into the pack life. She doesn't hold any grudges against her father and she threw herself into whatever was needed of her to hold what little place she had in the pack life. |
53,059 | 1,439 | 19 | 2,207 | 246 | Willow Watersong
"I-I didn't think anyone was staying here." Willow replied, careful not to make any movement that might upset him. She stood quietly and calmly, her head slightly ducked down in submission, "I apologize for disturbing you sir."
She indeed looked sorry enough, her jaw muscles tight showing that she was not as calm as she was trying to look. Willow slowly turned around, acutely aware of the revolver pointed at her head, she walked slowly and deliberately to the door. | Name: Willow Watersong
Gender: Female
Age: 23
Rank: Adult Female
Trade: Maid/Cleaner
Upright Appearance: 7.0 nose to tail, 143 pounds.
Personality: Willow is extremely shy. She likes cleaning for herself and others often times because it doesn't require talking to other people. Willow does go manic sometimes, cleaning quicker and more intense. If she doesn't have anything to do in those times, she becomes very bouncy, unable to keep still. Though she doesn't like talking to people, she does love to help and comfort others and enjoys the company of others.
History: Willow was given her gift from her mothers side, though her mother died at birth. It was quite a surprise to her father when he found out and he ended up throwing her out at a young age. She tracked down her mothers pack from clues left in her mothers diary and quietly blended into the pack life. She doesn't hold any grudges against her father and she threw herself into whatever was needed of her to hold what little place she had in the pack life. |
53,060 | 1,439 | 20 | 2,207 | 246 | With a heavy sigh Clay throws himself back into his pillow and the bed creeks under his weight as he slightly bounces. With a loud yawn he folds both hands and the gun behind his head and beneath his pillow.
"Hey, look I'm sorry, it's alright you don't need to sneak out. Just don't do that again alright!" Clay calmly and gently says as he tilts his head to look sideways at the intruder.
"So what's ya name and what are you doing here?" Clay asks with a friendly grin. | Name: Willow Watersong
Gender: Female
Age: 23
Rank: Adult Female
Trade: Maid/Cleaner
Upright Appearance: 7.0 nose to tail, 143 pounds.
Personality: Willow is extremely shy. She likes cleaning for herself and others often times because it doesn't require talking to other people. Willow does go manic sometimes, cleaning quicker and more intense. If she doesn't have anything to do in those times, she becomes very bouncy, unable to keep still. Though she doesn't like talking to people, she does love to help and comfort others and enjoys the company of others.
History: Willow was given her gift from her mothers side, though her mother died at birth. It was quite a surprise to her father when he found out and he ended up throwing her out at a young age. She tracked down her mothers pack from clues left in her mothers diary and quietly blended into the pack life. She doesn't hold any grudges against her father and she threw herself into whatever was needed of her to hold what little place she had in the pack life. |
53,061 | 1,439 | 21 | 27 | 308 | Clay sits up a bit, hands still behind his head as he peaks at the rug on the floor.
"Ah nice" he says falling back into the bed.
"Willow hey." He says, testing her name on his own tongue. "The names Clay, nice to meet you. Sorry 'bout before."
"So" he begins, the word drags out as he thinks how to continue, "are you like the other two downstairs?" He eventually just comes out and asks. | Name:Clayton 'Clay' Radshaw
GenderMale
Age:32
Rank:Adult
Trade:Electrician/ mechanic
Upright Appearance:
Canine Appearance:
Personality: Clay, while a bit rough-around-the-edges is pretty care free and easy going guy. He can be a little arrogant and over confident and extremely head strong and stubborn at times. He is pretty quick to resort to violence or at least threats, the strike first ask questions later type.
Character flaws aside he has a generally good heart and will make sacrifices for others. Behind his arrogance he doesn't really believe he is worth dirt, often denying his own happiness believing he must suffer for mistakes of the past. He's the kind of guy that trouble is attracted too.
History: Clay hasn't been part of a pack for a while, maybe even ever.
The lone wolf, he never stays in one place too long, always cutting ties and moving on. The traveller. |
53,062 | 1,439 | 22 | 2,506 | 25 | Bronze
tracked Runa leaving, marking her path and direction Bronze turned toward the parking area that was in front of the bed and breakfast, Seeing if he could get a glimpse of the owner of the Harley parked there. He had heard it earlier, but this was his first time actually getting a view of the license plate. Repeating the line of numbers and letters repeatly, he committed it to memory. Never hurts, he thought to himself as a low rumble emitted from his stomach. Breaking his concentration on surveying the bike and surrounding area for the owner, he glance ruefully down at Celeste "Wonder whats for breakfast this morning" he asked to her in a wondering voice, drool slightly gathering at the corners of his mouth. He loved to eat, found it greatly satisfying to have a full stomach. Either during a hunt or a meal at the table, he would never turn down a meal. He would have to talk to John about the menu in the future.
Hearing a movements off from the side, the timing couldn't be better for Bronze. His stomach was telling him that it felted unloved, since the back got a massage, it should get to massage itself. And he knew how to rub it the right way. Turning to Kleo with a huge grin on his face at her words, he knelt and with sure movements picked up Celeste in his arms, holding her within the crook of his arm like a exquisitely made china doll and waving at tyrone with the other hand. "We all know what why we are gather here today, let's go get that food" Right as those words came out of his mouth, he would think about this moment and grimace in agony over such words in days to come. For out of the back of the bed and breakfast strode Niall. He had a serious look going on at the moment. With a quizzical gaze at the Cycle, he turned it to Niall walking up to the Cabin.
Hearing Niall's words, without changing expression, Bronze felt his stomach clench slightly in agony for it knew it desires would have placed on hold. With a sniff of the tempting smell coming from the kitchen, He placated his stomach with the aroma's floating around him, promising that it will get its fill in due time. "So whats the situation? Biker get lost or something Niall?" he inquired. | Name:Bronze Zahi Brighton
Gender:Male
Age:28
Rank:Beta Male
Trade: Merchant/General Store Keeper
mate:Kleo Daniels
Pups:Tyrone Daniels(adopted) & Celeste Forrester-Daniels (adopted)
Upright Appearance:
Making a appearance of six feet and 3 inches, Bronze is heavily muscled with a few tattoo's covering his body.
Canine Appearance:
He is a large wolf, weighting in at 58kg with a length of 1.9m from nose to tail
Personality: Bronze has a straight forward way of seeing the world. He always has a vibrant smile at hand to dissolve situations that arises, though it seemed to have dimmed somewhat due to events in his past. He takes his responsibility's seriously, keeping his word when given. He loves challenges, and follows after them with single minded purpose till said task is done. He is easy to talk to, enjoying company of others and never judging them till he has his own opinion of said person. He has a pessimistic thoughts at times, though he usually keeps it to himself.
History: Bronze parents were named Jerry and Lisa Brighton. They belonged to a pack that was mostly centered in Northern Canada, roaming the very edges of Civilizations, avoiding hunters that seemed to be constantly on their trail. He never met his father, for he had been slain before he was born, through he proud of his papa, for his mama told him many tales about him and his bravery. He spent five years on the run with his pack. Through it was nightmarish, he would always treasure the time they spent together with his pack, though it didn't last, for in the sixth year his mama had been caught, never seeing her son again. After that, the pack grew smaller at a even faster rate. The last of the pack, two females and himself, aimed for the states to get away from the hunters. Somehow the hunters knew their destination, setting up a trap. The last of his pack, the two he was with, died on the border, getting him across on a train and setting him up with money and addresses that he could use to hide before kissing his cheek in goodbye as they placed him in a container smuggling him on the train bound for Denver. Years later found him still wandering around the states, passing through packs and cities, trying to find a place in this world where the hunted could find peace. He found the blue ridge pack After years of wondering. He still not sure if staying put in one place is good, but he was sick of always moving and decided with join the pack.
Extra: He likes going by the nickname Zay. And he plan's on opening a bar in the future. |
53,063 | 1,439 | 23 | 27 | 308 | CLAY AND WILLOW
Willow tilts her head, confused, "what do you mean am I like the others?" She asks.
Clay chuckles in response. He wasn't quite sure how to ask it. He still hated to say the words out loud. Still stuck in some sort of denial. Looking up at the roof, after another deep sigh, he uses a joking tone to get the question out.
"Are you part wolf as well? Hell is everyone here one?
Willow sits down in a chair that was in the corner, pulling her knees up, only for the first time noticing she was barefoot, "Oh. Yeah.. I-I am.." she starts stuttering, ducking her head down once again, not answering the second part of the question.
Clay growls, but he's not angry, instead saddened.
"Hey girl!" He calls out as he crunches himself up to see her properly. With his abs under the strain of his upper torso and his arms stretched aside his head, his muscles and powerful lupine enhanced physic were clearly defined and noticeable. He drops his hands as he turns and puts his feet on the floor. Now sitting at the edge of the bed facing the intruder he runs a hand over his face then takes a second to look her over before carrying on.
"When I see some one like you it just makes me sad, makes me wonder what coulda gone so wrong that someone as beautiful," he pauses and looks to the rug "and talented, as yourself could lose confidence in herself."
"What hardship has robbed you of your carefree nature? Why should someone as innocent as yourself know of concern and fear?"
He shakes his head slowly, then suddenly perks back up, emotion stirring in his voice as his hand points towards the door. "Is it those guys out there!?" He asks, voice slightly raised. He wouldn't admit it but the idea of Niall 'actually' deserving a beating or being able to be labeled as a 'bad guy' made Clay happy.
Willow looks up extremely startled, "oh no no no no..." she says, trying to calm him, "no, they're good people."
"Good" Clay quickly replies slightly relaxing although deep down there was a tiny twisted shred of disappointment.
Willow looks down at her toes, "I've just always been like this," she giggles. Her laugh made Clay smile. "I'm not that used to other people." She continued as she studied Clay from behind her hair, her nose twitching slightly, "Anyway, what brings you here..?"
"Ah Don't mind me, just here for a few days, passing through." Clay answers while stretching, not really answering anything.
"Say, what's there to do around here? I mean what are you gonna be up to today?" He asks Willow while he stands up and starts sorting through his bag, throwing a few clothes on the bed and putting some items in his bathroom.
Willow shrugs, "I don't know.. I didn't really have any other plans besides making sure all the rooms were in order," Willow silently watching him as he moved about, still unsure about him in general.
From the bathroom the sink tap sounds, Clay calls out a muffled reply with a mouth full of toothpaste and toothbrush, "sO oo you et paid foh dis?" The tap sounds again and then shortly after he walks back into the room, shirtless and wiping his face down with a wet cloth.
He rummages through his clothes for a moment before picking up a small black item, looking at it for a moment he realised it as his black balaclava with a white skull print, he quickly tosses it back into the bag. He then finds a tight black shirt and slides it over his head. Picking up a pile of rolled notes he stuffs them into his back pocket.
"Would you mind showing me around? I need to pick up a few things." he casually asks.
Willow doesn't answer the first question, hoping he'll just think she didn't hear, and got up once he asked her to show him around, "I-I think you'd find someone else better suited to that.." she begins, twiddling her thumbs together, "I really only know here and my house."
Clay stops what he was doing and gives her a blank look.
"Huh, fair enough."
His tone says that he doesn't believe her but accepts it anyway. They are just strangers after all and he did recently point a gun at her head.
Though there was something about Willow, this young girl, that reminded him of someone he had lost long ago, it wasn't her shy personality so it had to be appearance. But it was so long ago now Clay couldn't be sure if there was a resemblance or his guilt was subconsciously creating it his mind.
He shuffles through his bag one last time and as a corner accidentally droops it reveals a stash of different valued bills, he had a lot of suspicious money. He removes a shiny butterfly knife and slides it into his back pocket before quickly sealing up the bag and turning back to the girl. He just stands there looking at her with a smile while patiently waiting in an awkward silence.
Willow breaks the awkward moment and bows hastily, and ducks out of the room, dropping a swatch for another rug on the ground. | Name:Clayton 'Clay' Radshaw
GenderMale
Age:32
Rank:Adult
Trade:Electrician/ mechanic
Upright Appearance:
Canine Appearance:
Personality: Clay, while a bit rough-around-the-edges is pretty care free and easy going guy. He can be a little arrogant and over confident and extremely head strong and stubborn at times. He is pretty quick to resort to violence or at least threats, the strike first ask questions later type.
Character flaws aside he has a generally good heart and will make sacrifices for others. Behind his arrogance he doesn't really believe he is worth dirt, often denying his own happiness believing he must suffer for mistakes of the past. He's the kind of guy that trouble is attracted too.
History: Clay hasn't been part of a pack for a while, maybe even ever.
The lone wolf, he never stays in one place too long, always cutting ties and moving on. The traveller. |
53,064 | 1,439 | 24 | 238 | 177 | Clayton
Clay waited a moment allowing Willow to get sone distance before he left the room, he felt that he had made things awkward and would try to avoid her and the memories she brought him for a while.
Slipping out the back of the bed-and-breakfast he avoided any other people where he could. Noticing Nialle he waited until he had entered the room before continuing on.
Once outside Clay strolled down the street as though he was on familiar ground, each purposeful step, deliberate and rehearsed leading him to his destination as if he knew where he was going. There was a hint of lost awe in his eye as he looked around at the passing environment, seeing what is and what was.
A short time later he found himself standing out the front of a... A clothing store...
Something comical brings a smile across his lips as he scratches his head while looking through the window. Window gazing wasn't enough, Clay soon walks inside, his casual stride taking him straight past Ayla whom he didn't seem to notice, in fact he didn't seem to notice much since it wasn't the fabric or clothes he was looking at but the structure of the room itself. | Name:Runa Morgan
Gender: Female
Age: 32
Rank: Omega
Trade: Seamstress
Upright Appearance:
Runa stands at exactly five feet and is of a slender but womanly build at a little over 110 pounds.
Canine Appearance:
34" in height, 6.5' in length at 124lbs, her eyes are the typical amber in wolf form
Personality: Runa is a typical wall flower for the most part, preferring to observe rather than be observed. Though, if prompted can and will state her often jaded opinions. Despite her silent and gentle nature she has no problem with putting any one in their place if need be. Sometimes coming off as cold or snobbish to those know know little of her, but she is actually a very warm and caring person who smiles and laughs often. She has a tendency to blush often and can be shy, unless the teeth need to come out. She is demure in size, but what she lacks in strength she makes up for in agility and speed, her small size tends to lead to underestimation which can be fatal in the worst circumstances. Though if challenged she would most likely give up her position unless it was to leave the pack.
History: Runa was once a pack Heir to a smaller wolf pack up north, but before she could take rule, the pack was hunted and never rejoined after scattering across the country. Being an Heir is not something she shares openly, she feels unfit for the job as Alpha and thus remains at her lower rank, though the desire to lead never really leaves her she does not act upon it. To keep her lineage a secret she keeps mostly to herself, even going so far to lie or evade speaking about her past. Her parents were named Margaret and Holland Morgan. Margaret and Holland were not killed when the pack was scattered and moved closer to the equator for retirement. Runa still keeps in contact with them, but tension keeps it from being frequent.
Extra?: She enjoys being outdoors and horses had been one of her passions growing up, but she gives the Alpha a wide berth unless it is necessary. |
53,065 | 1,439 | 25 | 1,499 | 991 | Niall Collins
Niall chuckled lightly at Tyrone as he bounced around wanting food. Unfortunately he would have to wait a moment and so Niall turned his attention back to Kleo and Bronze, "We have a small troublesome issue. There is another wolf here, a stray. He definitely is not in touch with his wolf at all. He has a gun with silver bullets, it shouldn't be deadly but I definitely do not want the pups near him. He is entirely too volatile. I'll help you guys pack back some breakfast and you can eat in here today. He is just passing through I believe."
His great body gave a huff as he finished his small bit. Worry creased his broad forehead as he ran a hand through his thick dark hair. There wasn't much he could do right now, the adults could take care of themselves but he wanted to keep the pups out of harms way if at all possible. They were no match for a grown wolf, especially one who wouldn't even fight in his fur. "You should have seen his face when Elize changed in front of him. He couldn't even tell I was a wolf he's so far gone." | Name:Johnathen Brisby
Gender: Male
Age: 32
Rank: Adult male
Trade: cook
Upright Appearance:
5'10 200lbs
Canine Appearance:
7'6 nose to tail 200lbs
Personality: The pack is Johns family and that makes him care for them like family. His passion is what keeps him from being more. John Loves to cook it was his passion the same way some painted or played a particular style of music. He could take any type of food and turn it into something that made even the most unsophisticated pallet take notice. Everything he did was basic and then the seasonings would change the melody or flavor from elevator music to Phil harmonic in surround sound. This is how John spoke to people. His mood was always intense but he was focused and generally happy. With no ambition other then to cook his standing in the pack is low. He follows the alpha out of instinct and his fathers teachings, John shows the proper respect at all times. His only raw nerve is the mistreatment of animals.
History: Johns parents were good, they raised him and taught him about the truth in his blood. He learned a lot from his father including his cooking ability. Having no competition as an only child John enjoyed the full attention of his parents. Being at the low end of the pack standing has alienated him from finding a mate. This lack of companionship redoubles his efforts to be a better cook. When John turned twenty a wanderlust had taken root. The tales of his experiences and the knowledge that was earned from having faced the trails of his travels give him the confidence he uses every day. He traveled for years until being found by the current pack.
Extra:None |
53,066 | 1,439 | 26 | 519 | 60 | Elize Vanzant
After feeding her flock and Niall's horses as well as the pack's cattle and pigs their rations of food and making sure everyone had water Elize headed back towards the dining hall, they would all be having breakfast very soon. She did stop off at her own little cabin, the smallest out of those here on the property and changed from her work boots into a pair of more casual boots that she wasn't so willing to get dirty while messing with the animals. Niall's large drafts had a bad habit of stepping on her foot and scuffing her good boots.
She reached the dining hall quite easily, moving down the little dirt and gravel paths between the buildings. She could smell the food that John was cooking within the building and she hummed appreciatively. She pushed open the door to the building which had only a small latch on the outside to keep the bears out. There was nothing that was brave enough to enter the small settlement now. Perhaps this new character would appear so that she could investigate him a bit further, there was something just odd about a wolf who didn't know his own nature. They were the most dangerous kind of wolves.
"Good morning, John." The tall she-wolf called as she entered the building. She knew he would be in the kitchen fixing breakfast for them all. He was truly a wonderful cook. | Name:Clayton 'Clay' Radshaw
GenderMale
Age:32
Rank:Adult
Trade:Electrician/ mechanic
Upright Appearance:
6ft 180lbs, natural fit and muscular.
Canine Appearance:
44" in height, 7.5' in length at 180lbs, he has Heterochromia iridium, one eye is a pale blue and the other hazel.
He is a lean and agile wolf.
Personality: Clay, while a bit rough-around-the-edges is pretty care free and easy going guy. He can be a little arrogant and over confident and extremely head strong and stubborn at times. He is pretty quick to resort to violence or at least threats, the strike first ask questions later type.
Character flaws aside he has a generally good heart and will make sacrifices for others. Behind his arrogance he doesn't really believe he is worth dirt, often denying his own happiness believing he must suffer for mistakes of the past. He's the kind of guy that trouble is attracted too.
History: Clay hasn't been part of a pack for a while, maybe even ever.
The lone wolf, he never stays in one place too long, always cutting ties and moving on. The traveller. |
53,067 | 1,440 | 0 | 1,266 | 83 | Terra Incognita
New Bayheath
The colony sits on a peninsular part of the coast of Kasum, facing the continents great and uncharted jungle with the vast and equally dangerous ocean at its back and sides. It's plucky but hardworking population of ~500 are primarily human, though the occasional dwarf and elf can be seen from time to time. Facing the jungle, and stretching from one coast to the other is a wooden barricade that is almost constantly manned by the colonial militia, a small military composed of both the hired mercenaries and colonists alike. The colony is five months old, and has seen one wave of Malthese colonists since its founding.
The main locations within New Bayheath are...
The Governor General's Manor: A large building on the coast that serves as both office and private residence of the Governor General.
The Lost Minstrel: New Bayheath's only form of recreation, a large mead hall.
The Fields: New Bayheath's only farm is guarded 24/7 by a small coalition of its workers, as food is arguably the colony's greatest resource. The fields mainly grow wheat, which is often turned into large loaves of bread. Additionally, the colony has a small pasture populated with 20 sheep, 10 goats, and 10 cows.
Housing: Near the farm is the colony's housing district, which consists of rows of cabins, all made from wood provided by Kasum's jungle. They typically fit two to five people each, and are of a reasonable quality.
The Circle: In the centre of the colony is a small stage at the centre of a circular patch of dirt. Here the colonists meet at the command of the Governor General. It serves as a meeting location during times of crisis, or simply a landmark for individuals to gather at.
Samuel's Tower: This 40ft high wooden tower rests near the colony's border, and is typically manned by a single scout.
Maps
Coming soon!
Compendium of Kasum
Encounter the natives, fauna, and flora to gain access to their details. Once details are added it is no longer meta to refer to them, as they'd be published by the Governor General for the betterment of the colony.
Mechanics
The goal of the roleplay is to turn New Bayheath into a functioning city, while simultaneously exploring Kasum. To do this, I've decided to incorporate some game-like mechanics to the roleplay. Every two months (in the roleplay), the mainland will decide whether the colony can accommodate a new shipment of migrants. If the players have successfully pushed back the jungle and colonised more of Kasum, then the population of New Bayheath will increase by 200. If however the colony retains the status quo, no new migrants will arrive. If the colony is attacked, suffers from an epidemic, or otherwise suffers, the population will decrease. Should the colony reach 0, which I doubt will happen but who knows, the roleplay will alter drastically. But let's just focus on the now.
Roleplay
The day comes to a close as the colonists pack up their tools and head to either the mead hall or their homes. The fields were partly harvested this morning, and so in celebration, light festivities have been arranged. In the mead hall, a jaunty tune plays, and even the Governor General has decided to grace the population with his presence. You currently have no duties until the colony goes to sleep.
You may retire to your home, visit the mead hall, or explore New Bayheath. | Name: Tristan III of house Trivillan
Race: Human
Age: 26
Sex: Male
Appearance: Slim build, but with the muscles expected of one trained in swordsmanship. 5'6 feet tall.
Profession: Prince/Ambassador
Social Ranking: Higher than a villager, but despite his skills with a sword and the fact that he's mostly there as an envoy, people might look at him as a 'spoiled brat' because of his royal background.
Talents: Sword fighting and knowing which utensil to use when at fancy dinners.
Personality: Positive, loyal and outgoing, Tristan could easily be compared to a golden retriever. He always tries to give everyone – and everything - the chance to prove that there's some good in each living being. Though seemingly naive, he often intentionally exaggerate those traits. He's noticed that people are often much easier to handle when they think he's stupid and gullible.
Recent history: With five elder siblings all doing something productive with their lives, Tristan was pleased when his lord father informed him that he was to be sent as an ambassador to the new colony, despite the dangers this would surely put him in. |
53,068 | 1,440 | 1 | 403 | 341 | Ignaescious takes a long breath after downing the third jug of mead he had today. Wiping his mouth with his handkerchief, he got up off the wooden bench and disposed of his coins on the side to be collected. Leaving the mead hall, he took a step outside and welcomed the fresh air. The weather here was . . . different. Different than home. The air around him was born of a different breed. It felt fresh.
He strolled casually around the local area, taking in the beautiful view and viewing the moist air touch his skin. I should do this more often, he thought. The company of other men, Elves or Dwarves did not interest him. It was the sea that was truly calling him. Getting a good sea view, the Elf stood there for a good while, taking in the view.
In the distance he could hear the odd sounds of cattle and sheep, but they were quaint and added to the atmosphere. This continent was entirely new, not tied down by the evils of the land before. He was home, now.
Digging into his pocket he plucked a beautiful, red apple. It was all that was great in the world; natural, tame and with no absolutes. He bit into it. The sinking feeling of deliciousness ran through him like a preacher and his choir, singing songs of God and his grace.
God. The thought made him almost gag. No, God was an insane thought, like he owned something to this omnipotent being. This apple, this sea view, the humid air, the rays of beautiful sunshine kissing his hair, was where true happiness could be found. This was home. | Name: Ignaescious Horatio
Race: Elf
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Appearance:
Profession: Butcher
Social Ranking: Claims to be Royalty but holds no proof. Traditional villager.
Talents: Ignaescious has been cutting up animals for most of his life and as such can cleanly kill animals and use their meat to be cooked. He, however, is not a cook and cannot do anything with meat apart from cut it up all the right sections. One could say he would be decent with a sword, as he uses a cleaver in his spare time, but that would be ludicrous. The Elf has no experience in sword fighting as much as the next but will not be afraid to use one if necessary. He is practiced in sanitary conditions and will rarely catch any diseases.
Personality: Ignaaescious is a Xenophobe and despises not only humans, dwarves and orcs, but also his very own race. No one knows why he has these beliefs and his cynical view on the world, but it is undoubtedly a leading reason to him going on this expedition. He feels himself not above the scrutiny he puts upon his peers but below it. He will always strive to be the best he can be, but even himself does not know how good of a person he can be. Mr. Horatio is often first viewed as arrogant and cynical, but the more one gets to know him the more pity you can play on him.
Recent History: No one truly knows why he joined. He keeps it a secret and does not want anyone to know. His surprisingly evil nature can make it seem out of spite or like he has something to prove or maybe it is because he simply wants to escape the hate he has absorbed himself in. Maybe there is an even darker reason. |
53,069 | 1,440 | 2 | 1,266 | 83 | Tristan stretched his arms over his head as he walked, relishing in the pleasant burn in his muscles. Today had been quite eventful, what with the fields being harvested and the subsequent merry-making that was now taking place. He found it all very interesting and amusing, as he'd only ever witnessed similar events from afar before. The fields and among the commoners wasn't a place for a prince, after all.
But here there were no servants, advisors or family members to tell him what he could or couldn't do, so he was enjoying this new found freedom to the fullest. Sure, he hadn't really been able to help much with the harvesting, as his knowledge of such things were few and purely theoretical, but he'd still had a good time just observing and occasionally offering to help with simpler tasks. Many gave his more expensive clothing a skeptical look, to which Tristan smiled sheepishly and gave a slight shrug.
So it was with light feet and a grin on his face that Tristan entered The Lost Minstrel, intent on drinking and socializing as long as he could keep his eyes open - or until the mead hall emptied of people willing to keep him company. Whatever came first.
Tristan passed an elf on his way in, but didn't pay him much mind except nodding his head once as he went by. | Name: Tristan III of house Trivillan
Race: Human
Age: 26
Sex: Male
Appearance: Slim build, but with the muscles expected of one trained in swordsmanship. 5'6 feet tall.
Profession: Prince/Ambassador
Social Ranking: Higher than a villager, but despite his skills with a sword and the fact that he's mostly there as an envoy, people might look at him as a 'spoiled brat' because of his royal background.
Talents: Sword fighting and knowing which utensil to use when at fancy dinners.
Personality: Positive, loyal and outgoing, Tristan could easily be compared to a golden retriever. He always tries to give everyone – and everything - the chance to prove that there's some good in each living being. Though seemingly naive, he often intentionally exaggerate those traits. He's noticed that people are often much easier to handle when they think he's stupid and gullible.
Recent history: With five elder siblings all doing something productive with their lives, Tristan was pleased when his lord father informed him that he was to be sent as an ambassador to the new colony, despite the dangers this would surely put him in. |
53,070 | 1,440 | 3 | 403 | 341 | The noise was hard to ignore. Uproar, shouting in a tongue he couldn't understand. He despised Dwarves and their drinking habits. While they had come here seeking new riches, they had still kept to their old ways of being loud and disturbing. When would they learn?
The Elf thundered in the mead hall, quite suspicious to see where the audacious sound had come from. A dwarf, of course, acting like a drunkard once again. He sat down not too far from the group and donned his hood, hiding his face. If things got out of hand, he would make sure that there would be no more misfortune for other residents of this quite town.
Such a beautiful place, such a beautiful landscape, and they still insist on drinking indoors? Such unruly children. They will soon see the truth. | Name: Ignaescious Horatio
Race: Elf
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Appearance:
Profession: Butcher
Social Ranking: Claims to be Royalty but holds no proof. Traditional villager.
Talents: Ignaescious has been cutting up animals for most of his life and as such can cleanly kill animals and use their meat to be cooked. He, however, is not a cook and cannot do anything with meat apart from cut it up all the right sections. One could say he would be decent with a sword, as he uses a cleaver in his spare time, but that would be ludicrous. The Elf has no experience in sword fighting as much as the next but will not be afraid to use one if necessary. He is practiced in sanitary conditions and will rarely catch any diseases.
Personality: Ignaaescious is a Xenophobe and despises not only humans, dwarves and orcs, but also his very own race. No one knows why he has these beliefs and his cynical view on the world, but it is undoubtedly a leading reason to him going on this expedition. He feels himself not above the scrutiny he puts upon his peers but below it. He will always strive to be the best he can be, but even himself does not know how good of a person he can be. Mr. Horatio is often first viewed as arrogant and cynical, but the more one gets to know him the more pity you can play on him.
Recent History: No one truly knows why he joined. He keeps it a secret and does not want anyone to know. His surprisingly evil nature can make it seem out of spite or like he has something to prove or maybe it is because he simply wants to escape the hate he has absorbed himself in. Maybe there is an even darker reason. |
53,071 | 1,440 | 4 | 924 | 1,705 | So...let's say she had the body of an elf, the face of a human and the rack of a dwarf.
"Well in which case I would have to plough her more times than you could count." This response was met with vigorous laughter from the small group of men, hunched round a small camp fire, just on the outskirts of the colony, overlooking the fields. There was a slight cling as plate slapped plate, the men's heaving stomachs being the only real noise in the desolate quiet of this new world. It was a strange contract, but a well paid one that would reap many rewards. The men hadn't been faced by too much hassle, and maintaining the borders and some police work was all they had been tasked with as of yet.
Jack Sullam, Commander and Chief of the Red Coat Mercenary Company's Colonial Venture, was doing the rounds for a final time. Checking up on his posts and patrols he seemed happy with the work that had been done. Their numbers would be stretched thin is the colony expanded much further but by then he could put in a request for more men. Finally content with the security Jack decided to make his way to the mead hall. He had no plans to drink himself, it clouded his judgement, but he had to make the appearance that the company was part of the colony and not just their walls. Stepping into the crowded building he was almost suffocated by the stench of ale and smoke. It was almost too dark and rancid to maneuver in, though as his eyes adjusted he finally made his way through the labyrinth of people. Making his way to the head of the hall he stood, close enough to the governor so his presence was known but far enough away so as not to instigate any problems with the governors own guards. A strange decision to send them, the company had been clear on working with the colony. It was bad business to hold anything ulterior over an employer. | Name: Jack Sullam
Race: Human
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Profession: Mercenary Captain
Social Ranking: In charge of the Red Coat Mercenary Band deployed to the colony. As well as that has authority over an average colonist.
Talents: An adept swordsmen, from years of practice and experience. He also is physically very fit and knows how to led and organise men.
Personality: I prefer to RP this.
Recent history: As an officer in the RCM he was selected from a group of volunteers to lead the small band of RCM mercenaries deployed to the colony. Before the RCM he was a member of the Trade Republic of Bresiroth's army however he was discharged after disobeying orders that would have led to the death of his entire band of men. The RCM took him on and instilled true discipline I him, as well as giving him an opportunity to prove his worth on a battlefield again. |
53,072 | 1,440 | 5 | 1,266 | 83 | The Governor General's eyes flicked down at the man who now appeared before him. Sullam's red and silver armour contrasted him starkly against the grubby habits of the peasants who populated the tables. Setting down his cup, the Governor General crossed one leg over the other, leaning on one elbow.
"It's quite a show isn't it?" he asked, his voice loud so that he might be heard over the festivities, but strangely withheld, as though refraining from expressing emotion. "You're of that company we've hired, the err.. Heavens, how have I forgotten.." he said, bringing a finger to his bottom lip in thought. Then it dawned on him. Snapping a finger, he raises his hand in the air as a gesture of realisation. "The Red Coats!" he exclaimed with a grin, noting how foolish it was of him to forget, given that Sullam's uniform provided an obvious clue. | Name: Tristan III of house Trivillan
Race: Human
Age: 26
Sex: Male
Appearance: Slim build, but with the muscles expected of one trained in swordsmanship. 5'6 feet tall.
Profession: Prince/Ambassador
Social Ranking: Higher than a villager, but despite his skills with a sword and the fact that he's mostly there as an envoy, people might look at him as a 'spoiled brat' because of his royal background.
Talents: Sword fighting and knowing which utensil to use when at fancy dinners.
Personality: Positive, loyal and outgoing, Tristan could easily be compared to a golden retriever. He always tries to give everyone – and everything - the chance to prove that there's some good in each living being. Though seemingly naive, he often intentionally exaggerate those traits. He's noticed that people are often much easier to handle when they think he's stupid and gullible.
Recent history: With five elder siblings all doing something productive with their lives, Tristan was pleased when his lord father informed him that he was to be sent as an ambassador to the new colony, despite the dangers this would surely put him in. |
53,073 | 1,440 | 6 | 924 | 1,705 | Tristan stood by the bar, clapping along to the music and mimicking the few parts he'd caught on to - mostly the part going 'yup, yup, yup!'. But what he lacked in knowledge, he made up for in enthusiasm. The bar keeper came over with the second tankard of mead he'd ordered that night, and Tristan took a large mouthful of it before handing over a few coins.
He surveyed the hall, looking for a suitable table to sit down. As he'd only been at the colony for no more than a month, and most of that time had been spent indoors unpacking, writing letters and doing all sorts of paper work, he hadn't had the time to socialize much. He squinted, spotting the Governor General himself farther into the room. Tristan had made sure to introduce himself to the man the moment he arrived, and had had the chance to talk briefly to him a few times since then. Smiling broadly, he made his way closer to the platform. When he was close enough, he rose his tankard in greeting, unaware the man was already occupied in another conversation.
"A very good evening to you, Governor!", Tristan had to almost scream to be heard over music and cheering, and he had no idea if the Governor would even recognize him. Not that it really mattered; he was just being polite. He then laughs as his attention was pulled to the dwarf drunkenly crawling onto the table again, almost tipping over the other musicians in the process.
In a fit of euphoria and intoxication, Tristan then climbed onto the table next to the dwarves and rose his arms in the air, spilling mead this way and that, "And a very good evening to every last one of you all fine folks!"
His exclamation was met with more cheering.
Oh Atal, if his father could see him now, Tristan though. Despite only being on his second tankard, he was well on his way to becoming thoroughly wasted. The fine wines he was accustomed to was nowhere near as strong as the stuff they served here. | Name: Jack Sullam
Race: Human
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Profession: Mercenary Captain
Social Ranking: In charge of the Red Coat Mercenary Band deployed to the colony. As well as that has authority over an average colonist.
Talents: An adept swordsmen, from years of practice and experience. He also is physically very fit and knows how to led and organise men.
Personality: I prefer to RP this.
Recent history: As an officer in the RCM he was selected from a group of volunteers to lead the small band of RCM mercenaries deployed to the colony. Before the RCM he was a member of the Trade Republic of Bresiroth's army however he was discharged after disobeying orders that would have led to the death of his entire band of men. The RCM took him on and instilled true discipline I him, as well as giving him an opportunity to prove his worth on a battlefield again. |
53,074 | 1,440 | 7 | 1,266 | 83 | The Governor General eyed Tristan briefly, chuckling lightly as the noble climbed onto a table and cheered, much to the huzzah of the crowd. After that lapse in focus, the Governor General's weary eyes once more landed on the Red Coat. The aged leader listened dutifully and sincerely, suggesting that despite the location, he was paying absolute attention to the suggestions of the mercenary. Once the man Jack had concluded his proposal, the Governor General took a small sip from his cup, licking his dry lips curtly.
"What you suggest is very reasonable" he responded, his eyes looking over the hall for a moment before catching Jack's own gaze again. "You represent a powerful faction in this colony, and thus, I shall bid one of my guards fetch you should I ever need council regarding the position New Bayheath takes. In regards to the issue of more men, well, more are always welcome, the only real issue is whether or not we can afford to keep them. We've a few houses spare, but you are right, we need to expand, and soon. Our cartographer is currently working on drafting a plan, but until then, I say keep up the good work. Let us discuss this in the morning, enjoy yourself, Captain" the man finished, clapping the mercenary on the shoulder, giving him a jovial shake. | Name: Tristan III of house Trivillan
Race: Human
Age: 26
Sex: Male
Appearance: Slim build, but with the muscles expected of one trained in swordsmanship. 5'6 feet tall.
Profession: Prince/Ambassador
Social Ranking: Higher than a villager, but despite his skills with a sword and the fact that he's mostly there as an envoy, people might look at him as a 'spoiled brat' because of his royal background.
Talents: Sword fighting and knowing which utensil to use when at fancy dinners.
Personality: Positive, loyal and outgoing, Tristan could easily be compared to a golden retriever. He always tries to give everyone – and everything - the chance to prove that there's some good in each living being. Though seemingly naive, he often intentionally exaggerate those traits. He's noticed that people are often much easier to handle when they think he's stupid and gullible.
Recent history: With five elder siblings all doing something productive with their lives, Tristan was pleased when his lord father informed him that he was to be sent as an ambassador to the new colony, despite the dangers this would surely put him in. |
53,075 | 1,440 | 8 | 924 | 1,705 | Jack smiled and nodded his thanks to the governor, it was a good start that the two men could hold a peaceful and reasonable conversation. The Red Coats would be influential on policy to come, he just didn't want there to be a lack of communication. Right now he wanted exactly what the governor wanted.
"I'm glad we can work together on this Governor. I assure you, until the colony can maintain more men, I will not bring more in. I don't want to stretch our resources further than needed. Anyway, as you said now is the time for merriment. I am not going to drink myself, but enjoy yourself Governor." With that Jack left the governors side. Making his way over to the door he decided he would spend some time outside, just enjoying the fresh air. Before he retired for the night. | Name: Jack Sullam
Race: Human
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Profession: Mercenary Captain
Social Ranking: In charge of the Red Coat Mercenary Band deployed to the colony. As well as that has authority over an average colonist.
Talents: An adept swordsmen, from years of practice and experience. He also is physically very fit and knows how to led and organise men.
Personality: I prefer to RP this.
Recent history: As an officer in the RCM he was selected from a group of volunteers to lead the small band of RCM mercenaries deployed to the colony. Before the RCM he was a member of the Trade Republic of Bresiroth's army however he was discharged after disobeying orders that would have led to the death of his entire band of men. The RCM took him on and instilled true discipline I him, as well as giving him an opportunity to prove his worth on a battlefield again. |
53,076 | 1,440 | 9 | 157 | 3,054 | Hirion was still at work, his men he left, his assistants gone. Yet he continued planning and counting resources, this project would take more than just one work day at a time. The walls needed improvement and more house's had to be built and then he had to find time and resources to begin creating firearms. Currently he had only a few sword and three pistols in stock, however with no bullet and powder they were nothing but fancy clubs. He sighed and looked oer the workshop once more. It had been the first thing he ordered built, it was warmer and drier than the rest as it served as there weapons stockpile as well. Tomorrow he get a force up and running then he would work on clock. They could start enforcing a curfew if they could get clock with bell chime working. Lonely was the work of a genius. | Name: Hirion Aldalithe
Race: Half-Elf
Age: 24
Sex: Male
Profession: Engineer
Social Ranking: Head Engineer
Talents: A crack engineer and even better gunsmith, his skill lay in building and innovation. He is also a large proponent of lighter-than-air travel.
Personality: Cunning, clever, and daring. Hirion is able to think is way out of anything and often comes up with plans to get materials he needs. However, this is balanced with caring and selflessness, his work is often used to better help others and try to prevent needless death.
Recent history: Hirion was until recently a thriving inventor however after an incident where one of his latest inventions caused great embarrassment to a King he fled. He would drift for awhile making watches and guns until he decided he needed a fresh start. Contacting the colonial expedition he showed them his credentials and was quickly excepted in to the crew. |
53,077 | 1,440 | 10 | 403 | 341 | While being encouraged by a few nearby villagers with cheers and whistles, Tristan downed what was left of his mead in one go. His head was spinning afterwards, and the world around him had gained a funny tilt.
Turning his head, he suddenly spotted a hooded figure sitting all by their self, away from the rest of the people in the hall.
Tristan frowned. That just wouldn't do!
With all the grace and agility of a three legged rhino, Tristan jumped down from the table. After being steadied by a helpful woman and thanking her, he made his way over to the hooded figure.
"Why, this is no time for sitting alone, my gloomy friend!" he stated, standing in front of the other, then offered his empty tankard, "Here! Drink, Drink! Or...no, wait, this's empty."
Tristan frowned down into the tankard, as if noticing this for the first time. He then burst out laughing, "No matter! How'bout this; you come with me over to the bar, and I'll buy you a drink!" Tristan gestured to the bar, smiling expectantly. | Name: Ignaescious Horatio
Race: Elf
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Appearance:
Profession: Butcher
Social Ranking: Claims to be Royalty but holds no proof. Traditional villager.
Talents: Ignaescious has been cutting up animals for most of his life and as such can cleanly kill animals and use their meat to be cooked. He, however, is not a cook and cannot do anything with meat apart from cut it up all the right sections. One could say he would be decent with a sword, as he uses a cleaver in his spare time, but that would be ludicrous. The Elf has no experience in sword fighting as much as the next but will not be afraid to use one if necessary. He is practiced in sanitary conditions and will rarely catch any diseases.
Personality: Ignaaescious is a Xenophobe and despises not only humans, dwarves and orcs, but also his very own race. No one knows why he has these beliefs and his cynical view on the world, but it is undoubtedly a leading reason to him going on this expedition. He feels himself not above the scrutiny he puts upon his peers but below it. He will always strive to be the best he can be, but even himself does not know how good of a person he can be. Mr. Horatio is often first viewed as arrogant and cynical, but the more one gets to know him the more pity you can play on him.
Recent History: No one truly knows why he joined. He keeps it a secret and does not want anyone to know. His surprisingly evil nature can make it seem out of spite or like he has something to prove or maybe it is because he simply wants to escape the hate he has absorbed himself in. Maybe there is an even darker reason. |
53,078 | 1,440 | 11 | 924 | 1,705 | For just a second, Tristan's expression turned blank. Then, as if it had never been, it was replaced with a pout, "What, right now? But the music and all the people are here!" he protested, leaning his hip against the table, "Leaving would be a terrible shame! I'll have to save that offer for some other time. Because - no offence - I fail to see what a butchers' got to offer that's better than, well, being here." unnecessarily, he gestured to the rest of the hall where quite a few still kept up the celebrations despite the late hour, then offered the same hand to the hooded stranger, "I'm Tristan Trivillan, by the way. Pleasure to meet you, sir...?" | Name: Jack Sullam
Race: Human
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Profession: Mercenary Captain
Social Ranking: In charge of the Red Coat Mercenary Band deployed to the colony. As well as that has authority over an average colonist.
Talents: An adept swordsmen, from years of practice and experience. He also is physically very fit and knows how to led and organise men.
Personality: I prefer to RP this.
Recent history: As an officer in the RCM he was selected from a group of volunteers to lead the small band of RCM mercenaries deployed to the colony. Before the RCM he was a member of the Trade Republic of Bresiroth's army however he was discharged after disobeying orders that would have led to the death of his entire band of men. The RCM took him on and instilled true discipline I him, as well as giving him an opportunity to prove his worth on a battlefield again. |
53,079 | 1,440 | 12 | 403 | 341 | Chris watched as the Red Coat Leader trudged away into the darkness. Funnily enough that was perhaps the most pleasant encounter he had with the man yet. Usually the words of Jack Sullam stung a bit more, and was at least a couple sentences longer. Chris was even toying with the idea that he was warming up to him. Shrugging off the words of the mercenary leader he walked into the busy tavern.
The singing and music was deafening. The stench of alcohol and smoke was nauseous. The taste of the air was stale. But the life.
Chris loved all forms of life. The quiet, stirring life of the wilderness, the busybody everyday life in the larger cities, and even this, a rowdy crowd of almost every shape of people he had ever seen. He couldn't help but breathe in and enjoy the life, especially after his little encounter outside.
Looking around the room he saw some of the notable people he knew here, namely the Governer-General, as well as the new arrival, Tristan. He was off in a corner but it was no matter to Chris. Chris didn't mind spending some time alone here, watching and soaking in the festivities. He found himself an empty stool at the bar and settled in. His feet ached as he lifted them off the floor. Ordering a pint from the bartender, he swung around and rested his elbows on the bar. Taking a sip of his mead, he watched on. | Name: Ignaescious Horatio
Race: Elf
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Appearance:
Profession: Butcher
Social Ranking: Claims to be Royalty but holds no proof. Traditional villager.
Talents: Ignaescious has been cutting up animals for most of his life and as such can cleanly kill animals and use their meat to be cooked. He, however, is not a cook and cannot do anything with meat apart from cut it up all the right sections. One could say he would be decent with a sword, as he uses a cleaver in his spare time, but that would be ludicrous. The Elf has no experience in sword fighting as much as the next but will not be afraid to use one if necessary. He is practiced in sanitary conditions and will rarely catch any diseases.
Personality: Ignaaescious is a Xenophobe and despises not only humans, dwarves and orcs, but also his very own race. No one knows why he has these beliefs and his cynical view on the world, but it is undoubtedly a leading reason to him going on this expedition. He feels himself not above the scrutiny he puts upon his peers but below it. He will always strive to be the best he can be, but even himself does not know how good of a person he can be. Mr. Horatio is often first viewed as arrogant and cynical, but the more one gets to know him the more pity you can play on him.
Recent History: No one truly knows why he joined. He keeps it a secret and does not want anyone to know. His surprisingly evil nature can make it seem out of spite or like he has something to prove or maybe it is because he simply wants to escape the hate he has absorbed himself in. Maybe there is an even darker reason. |
53,080 | 1,440 | 13 | 1,266 | 83 | Standing slowly, the Governor General rubbed the back of his neck, the knot in his muscle a sign that this chair was ill made, and would need to be replaced eventually. Yet the colony had concerns that outshone the need for comfortable furniture, and either way, now was not the time to deal with such matters. A few seconds after the Governor had stood, the crowd quieted, as more and more of his colonists realised that he was to address them. His ability to silence a room of rowdy drunks by simply standing was just one example of the respect he commanded from his men. The Governor General was a fair man, liked by all for his stoic leadership that had made this colony a success, whereas the original Bayheath had failed. Once all had shushed, the Governor spoke.
"Ladies and Gentlemen, it is time for me to retire for the night, but I have throughly enjoyed this evening of celebration, and I hope that you have as well. I would however remind you all, that there is still a great deal of work to be done. Tomorrow, I expect you all to rise bright and early, a colony does not flourish when its men and women sleep until noon. But for now, rest easy. Goodnight" he said in a fatherly tone, hands held behind his back. Shortly after his speech, the Governor, escorted by his guards, left through a back exit, disappearing into the night. | Name: Tristan III of house Trivillan
Race: Human
Age: 26
Sex: Male
Appearance: Slim build, but with the muscles expected of one trained in swordsmanship. 5'6 feet tall.
Profession: Prince/Ambassador
Social Ranking: Higher than a villager, but despite his skills with a sword and the fact that he's mostly there as an envoy, people might look at him as a 'spoiled brat' because of his royal background.
Talents: Sword fighting and knowing which utensil to use when at fancy dinners.
Personality: Positive, loyal and outgoing, Tristan could easily be compared to a golden retriever. He always tries to give everyone – and everything - the chance to prove that there's some good in each living being. Though seemingly naive, he often intentionally exaggerate those traits. He's noticed that people are often much easier to handle when they think he's stupid and gullible.
Recent history: With five elder siblings all doing something productive with their lives, Tristan was pleased when his lord father informed him that he was to be sent as an ambassador to the new colony, despite the dangers this would surely put him in. |
53,081 | 1,440 | 14 | 403 | 341 | The man was obviously insane. He was rambling for what seemed like decades and couldn't keep his two eyes on the same place for more than a few milliseconds. He was obviously a danger to society. The Elf did not glance at the Governor leaving the room nor did he care for him. He was just. This drunkard would find that drinking in excess was wrong.
Ignaescious quickly thrust his arms, grabbing and holding tight to the collar of the man in front of him, quickly pushing him towards the door of the tavern, trying to remove him from the hall. | Name: Ignaescious Horatio
Race: Elf
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Appearance:
Profession: Butcher
Social Ranking: Claims to be Royalty but holds no proof. Traditional villager.
Talents: Ignaescious has been cutting up animals for most of his life and as such can cleanly kill animals and use their meat to be cooked. He, however, is not a cook and cannot do anything with meat apart from cut it up all the right sections. One could say he would be decent with a sword, as he uses a cleaver in his spare time, but that would be ludicrous. The Elf has no experience in sword fighting as much as the next but will not be afraid to use one if necessary. He is practiced in sanitary conditions and will rarely catch any diseases.
Personality: Ignaaescious is a Xenophobe and despises not only humans, dwarves and orcs, but also his very own race. No one knows why he has these beliefs and his cynical view on the world, but it is undoubtedly a leading reason to him going on this expedition. He feels himself not above the scrutiny he puts upon his peers but below it. He will always strive to be the best he can be, but even himself does not know how good of a person he can be. Mr. Horatio is often first viewed as arrogant and cynical, but the more one gets to know him the more pity you can play on him.
Recent History: No one truly knows why he joined. He keeps it a secret and does not want anyone to know. His surprisingly evil nature can make it seem out of spite or like he has something to prove or maybe it is because he simply wants to escape the hate he has absorbed himself in. Maybe there is an even darker reason. |
53,082 | 1,440 | 15 | 403 | 341 | Momentarily stunned by the sudden movement, and reflexes dulled by the mead, Tristan did barely react until the elf had already dragged him a few steps. This encounter really had taken an unexpected turn.
"Hey!", he yelled, attempting to pry Ignaescious' fingers from his shirt and digging his heels into the floorboards, "Let me go! It's just confection; nothing to get - ngh! - angry about!"
Tristan had sensed something off about the elf when he'd made the offer to show him the butchers' - you didn't survive long in court if you couldn't detect a false smile, drunk or not - but hadn't at all expected that he'd do something as drastic as public abduction. As they got closer to the door, Tristan's struggles increased, but with the way the room was spinning it didn't do him much good. Damn alcohol and its appealing properties.
"Seriously, Iggy, let go!" He started to reach for the small knife he kept in his belt, but was hesitant to use it. Violence was a last resort, and Tristan didn't want to risk hurting anyone - even slightly deranged elfs - unless strictly necessary, and in his current state he lacked the coordination to be careful. | Name: Ignaescious Horatio
Race: Elf
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Appearance:
Profession: Butcher
Social Ranking: Claims to be Royalty but holds no proof. Traditional villager.
Talents: Ignaescious has been cutting up animals for most of his life and as such can cleanly kill animals and use their meat to be cooked. He, however, is not a cook and cannot do anything with meat apart from cut it up all the right sections. One could say he would be decent with a sword, as he uses a cleaver in his spare time, but that would be ludicrous. The Elf has no experience in sword fighting as much as the next but will not be afraid to use one if necessary. He is practiced in sanitary conditions and will rarely catch any diseases.
Personality: Ignaaescious is a Xenophobe and despises not only humans, dwarves and orcs, but also his very own race. No one knows why he has these beliefs and his cynical view on the world, but it is undoubtedly a leading reason to him going on this expedition. He feels himself not above the scrutiny he puts upon his peers but below it. He will always strive to be the best he can be, but even himself does not know how good of a person he can be. Mr. Horatio is often first viewed as arrogant and cynical, but the more one gets to know him the more pity you can play on him.
Recent History: No one truly knows why he joined. He keeps it a secret and does not want anyone to know. His surprisingly evil nature can make it seem out of spite or like he has something to prove or maybe it is because he simply wants to escape the hate he has absorbed himself in. Maybe there is an even darker reason. |
53,083 | 1,440 | 16 | 1,266 | 83 | The glazed men of the mead hall did nothing but cheer at the sudden row between Ignaescious and Tristan, thinking it nothing more than a harmless bar fight. The music twiddled on as it had before, the crowds returning to their own conversations.
Elsewhere...
The jungle just outside the colony's perimeter shivered as a swift breeze shook its leaves, gaining the attention of the scout in Samuel's Tower. Quickly drawing his spyglass from his hip, the young man scanned the forest perimeter quickly at first, before giving it a second glance, this time running his eye along the wall of thick flora slowly. The scout stopped half way through the action, paralysed by fear as his gaze locked with that of someone in the bushes. A single pale face looked back through the lense of the spyglass, its eyes black like charcoal, and its features similar to a human's, but off by small degrees, enough to make its visage disturbing. In a blink, it retreated, back into the jungle. A second after the creature had left, the scout fell backwards and breathed shuddering, panicked breaths. | Name: Tristan III of house Trivillan
Race: Human
Age: 26
Sex: Male
Appearance: Slim build, but with the muscles expected of one trained in swordsmanship. 5'6 feet tall.
Profession: Prince/Ambassador
Social Ranking: Higher than a villager, but despite his skills with a sword and the fact that he's mostly there as an envoy, people might look at him as a 'spoiled brat' because of his royal background.
Talents: Sword fighting and knowing which utensil to use when at fancy dinners.
Personality: Positive, loyal and outgoing, Tristan could easily be compared to a golden retriever. He always tries to give everyone – and everything - the chance to prove that there's some good in each living being. Though seemingly naive, he often intentionally exaggerate those traits. He's noticed that people are often much easier to handle when they think he's stupid and gullible.
Recent history: With five elder siblings all doing something productive with their lives, Tristan was pleased when his lord father informed him that he was to be sent as an ambassador to the new colony, despite the dangers this would surely put him in. |
53,084 | 1,440 | 17 | 403 | 341 | Upon being released, Tristan doubled over, gripping his sore gut and coughing. "Ow,ow!" he groaned, slowly stretching back up, leaning against the wall, "That-..That was a bit uncalled for, wasn't it?" maybe this was a sign from above that it was time to stop drinking and head home, he mused.
Tristan then looked up, noticing Ignaescious on the floor. He tiled his head, brows furrowing, "You alright, there?" still gripping his stomach, he edged closer to the Elf, cautiously trying to get a look at his face. He didn't dare get too close, though, in case Ignaescious turned aggressive again, "I- uh, I think I'm going to call it a night, Iggy. But, you know, no hard feelings. For you attempting to kidnap me and punching me, I mean. Everyone's got a bad day now and then, I understand. Maybe we can get a fresh start some other day when you're in a better mood." he suggested, even though he had a slight suspicion this was the Elf's everyday mood, "So good night to you, my grumpy friend, and don't lay around on the floor too long, or you'll catch a cold!"
With those parting words, Tristan gave a wave to the rest of the hall, before sauntering out into the night. He almost tripped over the threshold, but only laughed drunkenly at his own clumsiness. Today had been interesting, indeed. | Name: Ignaescious Horatio
Race: Elf
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Appearance:
Profession: Butcher
Social Ranking: Claims to be Royalty but holds no proof. Traditional villager.
Talents: Ignaescious has been cutting up animals for most of his life and as such can cleanly kill animals and use their meat to be cooked. He, however, is not a cook and cannot do anything with meat apart from cut it up all the right sections. One could say he would be decent with a sword, as he uses a cleaver in his spare time, but that would be ludicrous. The Elf has no experience in sword fighting as much as the next but will not be afraid to use one if necessary. He is practiced in sanitary conditions and will rarely catch any diseases.
Personality: Ignaaescious is a Xenophobe and despises not only humans, dwarves and orcs, but also his very own race. No one knows why he has these beliefs and his cynical view on the world, but it is undoubtedly a leading reason to him going on this expedition. He feels himself not above the scrutiny he puts upon his peers but below it. He will always strive to be the best he can be, but even himself does not know how good of a person he can be. Mr. Horatio is often first viewed as arrogant and cynical, but the more one gets to know him the more pity you can play on him.
Recent History: No one truly knows why he joined. He keeps it a secret and does not want anyone to know. His surprisingly evil nature can make it seem out of spite or like he has something to prove or maybe it is because he simply wants to escape the hate he has absorbed himself in. Maybe there is an even darker reason. |
53,085 | 1,440 | 18 | 1,266 | 83 | (( Given that most of the cast have enjoyed the first night of the roleplay, I'm fast forwarding to dawn. Feel free to pick up the story with your characters waking up or going about their morning duties. ))
The cockerel sang its crooked melody, waking those in bed, and disturbing those already working. As the feathered creature silenced itself, the Governor General exited his home, looking out upon the green and brown land that New Bayheath had been built upon. Taking in a deep breath, the Governor General made his way towards The Circle, his guards tailing him all the way. As he passed members of the colony, they greeted him with genial smiles and raised brows, always at pleasure to say 'hello'. "They are a good lot, these men" remarked the Governor to one of his guards, who only grunted in agreement as he finally approached the circular stage at the centre of the colony. As he stood, a guard took out a wide copper bell, ringing it loudly by flailing his arm. As the crowd gathered, the Governor was unsure as to whether he ought to tell them of what the scout had spotted last night. On one hand, it might be a useful piece to rally his men into action, while conversely, it could strike fear into their hearts. The colony had not yet gathered, and so the Governor was given some time to make up his mind as the bell continued to ring. | Name: Tristan III of house Trivillan
Race: Human
Age: 26
Sex: Male
Appearance: Slim build, but with the muscles expected of one trained in swordsmanship. 5'6 feet tall.
Profession: Prince/Ambassador
Social Ranking: Higher than a villager, but despite his skills with a sword and the fact that he's mostly there as an envoy, people might look at him as a 'spoiled brat' because of his royal background.
Talents: Sword fighting and knowing which utensil to use when at fancy dinners.
Personality: Positive, loyal and outgoing, Tristan could easily be compared to a golden retriever. He always tries to give everyone – and everything - the chance to prove that there's some good in each living being. Though seemingly naive, he often intentionally exaggerate those traits. He's noticed that people are often much easier to handle when they think he's stupid and gullible.
Recent history: With five elder siblings all doing something productive with their lives, Tristan was pleased when his lord father informed him that he was to be sent as an ambassador to the new colony, despite the dangers this would surely put him in. |
53,086 | 1,440 | 19 | 924 | 1,705 | Tristan was woken by the distant ringing of the bell, and immediately regretted it. "Oh, Atal have mercy..." he groaned into the pillow. He was never, ever drinking again. Sitting up, his dark auburn hair sticking out at all the wrong angles, he noticed that the sun was already well on its way up. That wasn't good! He'd miss the Governor-General's speech!
Standing up too quickly, Tristan had to lean against the wall for a moment, holding his aching head and taking a couple of deep breaths. Once the effects of his hangover had receded to bearable levels, he snatched up his shirt and pants, putting them on. Donning his armor, he winced as the breast plate chafed uncomfortably against the bruise left on his stomach from last night. Ignaescious really had gotten him good, and he scolded himself for letting it happen. Not that there was much to do about it now.
Lastly, he strapped his sword firmly to his hip, it's weight comforting and giving him a sense of security. He nodded to himself, ready to take on another day.
Heading down the stairs, he was greeted by the children of the family who also lived in the cabin. He had been offered a cabin of his own upon his arrival, but had politely declined. It would have been far too lonely for his tastes, and he'd much rather rent the top floor of this cabin, where the family really could do with some extra coin. The children informed him that their parents had already left for the Circle, but that they'd left some breakfast for him. So it was with his mouth full and a strip of dried meat in his hand that Tristan hurried down the street leading to the colony center, going as fast as his poor head would allow.
Tristan released a sigh of relief when he arrived at the circle. The Governor General had yet to begin. Tristan hadn't wanted to miss it, as he saw it as part of his duties as an envoy to attend public happenings, however small they may be. Though, coming late meant that all of the few spots of shadow available was already occupied, so Tristan had to settle with standing in the sun. Hopefully, the gathering would be over before the tropical heat really set in, or Tristan would be in need of a bath before dinner. Armor and direct sunlight didn't do well together for any extended amount of time. | Name: Jack Sullam
Race: Human
Age: 32
Sex: Male
Profession: Mercenary Captain
Social Ranking: In charge of the Red Coat Mercenary Band deployed to the colony. As well as that has authority over an average colonist.
Talents: An adept swordsmen, from years of practice and experience. He also is physically very fit and knows how to led and organise men.
Personality: I prefer to RP this.
Recent history: As an officer in the RCM he was selected from a group of volunteers to lead the small band of RCM mercenaries deployed to the colony. Before the RCM he was a member of the Trade Republic of Bresiroth's army however he was discharged after disobeying orders that would have led to the death of his entire band of men. The RCM took him on and instilled true discipline I him, as well as giving him an opportunity to prove his worth on a battlefield again. |
53,087 | 1,441 | 0 | 2,465 | 3,276 | It was the third day of the new semester at Saint Dymphna's. Some students were reacquainting themselves with friends and discussing various topics, other students were still getting used to the large dormitory campus. Overall, things were proceeding as one would expect at such a large boarding school. The welcoming ceremony had just finished and it was currently lunch time. As it was still the first few days of school, there would be no classes in the afternoon. Until the week was over, every lunch time until curfew hours would be free time for the students.
Among the students, word had spread quickly about a large 'introduction party' for the newcomers. Outwardly, there wasn't anything unusual about it, however there was an undercurrent if secrecy in the air.
The truth was, every years, the upperclassmen would use the party as a way to break-in new students to the whole idea of 'you have powers now!', but of course, the people that just came to the school had no idea. Naturally, for the upperclassmen, watching their shocked and panicked faces was part of the fun when it came to revealing the hidden side of the school. | Character Sheet:
Name:
Picture/Description:
Age (At least Highschool age):
Gender:
Personality:
Talent:
Ability:
Bio:
Other: |
53,088 | 1,441 | 1 | 1,046 | 4,333 | Belle found herself sitting alone in one of the larger cafeterias, slowly munching on pizza while reading Dante's Inferno. She'd been meaning to read it for the longest time and now that she'd finished her latest piece, she finally had the time to do so. So far, it was... interesting. She had to admit, the thought of placing her enemies into a fiery inferno was a rather pleasant idea but she didn't know if it would be considered... 'tasteful.' She didn't consider it so, anyway.
Sighing as she reached Canto XIII, something about trees groaning and moaning. She'd probably get to it later. For now, she had enough of it. Placing the last bit of pizza crust into her mouth, Belle stretched, the sudden realization donning on her. How long had she been here? Like... an hour or two?
...
Her shoulders jumped up in a shrug as she jumped up and walked over to the counter to get more pizza to stuff in her face. Picking up her books along the way, she made way for the nearest outdoor table and sat down, content to watch the cloud pass by as she nibbled on her pizza. It was a nice day after all and cloud watching was a particular hobby of hers.
Her mind went back a few days ago, to the phone call with her mother. She could feel her heart tightening at the thought. Her mother had that affect on her. That feeling you get when something comes by that fills you with such dread that you simply want to run for the nearest tight, dark hole to crawl in. Then again, she might start burying you in it. Belle wouldn't have put it past the old crook.
Her mother was determined to marry her off to some wealthy son of some company CEO or something. She had no interest in it what-so-ever. Her father kept trying to tell her mother that but she refused to listen. How many guys had she turned down? At this point, it was becoming an art form.
Regardless, she was here now, one year later, sunbathing with pizza between her teeth and a lovely (completed) painting in her room. Life was good. | Name: Isabelle "Belle" Castillo
Age: 17
Gender: Female (Though she has been mistaken for a male.)
Personality: Artistic and bubbly, Belle tends to get on people's nerves. There are some people who also say she's a bit bi-polar as she can go from being happy and bubbly, to suddenly running off to do something with a blank stare on her face. She never likes to sit still and loves meeting new people and making new friends. She can't stand sweet foods and she hates, 'perfect' people.
Talent:
Artist: Belle is good at all facets of the arts; literature, digital and traditional medias, and music.
Ability:
People Whisperer: Belle can use her artistic abilites, music, paint, literature or otherwise, to make people feel a certain way. In this, she can impart emotions on to the person viewing, hearing, or touching her art. Once the art has been created, she no longer has control over it, though the art will lose it's power within a day or two.
Bio: Belle is the daughter of a wealthy family and is treated as a princess. However, she has other plans. She hates the dresses they put her in and the things they make her do. She'd much rather spend her time doing art, listening to her imaginary friend, "Muse." After a fight with her parents, Belle ran away from home, choosing to stay at a nearby school. Her parents, unable to bring their daughter back, reluctantly decided to fund her and now she will occasionally go home to visit with the promise that they won't try to hook her up with a 'prince' and she won't do any art.
Other: ...Uh... Belle isn't afraid to speak her mind. At all. :|
OH, and she has a pet cat named Kiri. He's a fat, black and white cat that lives in her room. |
53,089 | 1,441 | 2 | 2,176 | 944 | In a relatively lonesome corner of the campus lay a youth slumped relaxedly on a bench, in a manner most carefree as he put an elbow over the back rest. Utterly still, such that he was just as part of the scenery as the walkway, the nearby tree, and the bird that sang within its branches, he appeared to be absorbed in a small book that he expertly held with just one hand. The only perceptible movement he made was the unconscious traveling of his bright green eyes, and when they had exhausted one, the flick to another page would reset them to the northwesterly position they had grown familiar to.
"You haven't eaten lunch yet," came the thought, powerful and stark to the native processes of his mind. "Does this literature truly warrant such fixation?"
And at that, the youth stirred for the first time in many minutes, moving his feet and arms and letting the blood circulate to refresh them. He blinked once, and removed a stray lock of his short brown hair away from his face with a perfunctory swipe of his hand. Noticing a sudden blurriness to his vision, he also adjusted his glasses up the bridge of his nose. But all the while, he never took his eyes off of the book, and by the time he returned his elbow to the back rest, he was flicking another page.
"It's interesting, Cadwal," Timothy answered simply, within his mind.
"More interesting than lunch?" the ghostly knight pointed out. "This cannot be healthy."
Timothy then took the can of Nescafé sitting happily next to him and took a sip, though he was genuinely surprised that the liquid was lukewarm when it met his lips.
"Coffee is not a substitute for lunch," further admonished Cadwal.
"And what do you know about coffee, ser knight?"
"That it isn't pottage or pork cutlets, that's for sure."
The youth did not reply immediately to his ghostly companion, although this was characteristic of him and no cause for concern. Cadwal had learned to become patient with this trait, although the fallen crusader was mildly surprised when his charge actually closed the book, decisively so with a clap from the meeting stacks of pages.
"I appreciate your concern for my health," concluded Timothy. "Fine, I'll go to the cafeteria."
"That's a good lad."
And with that, he stood up, stretching languidly before walking to the building and tossing his empty can of Nescafé somewhere along the way. | Timothy “Tim” Aquinas
Description:
An unassuming youth with pale skin, brown hair and emerald eyes, Timothy is lean and rather thin. Thin-framed eyeglasses sit upon the bridge of his nose, windows to eyes that brighten up in a charming, childlike way when he smiles. He stands at a good 6’0” tall, and prefers simple clothing: many of his shirts are black or grey and without print, and the ones that do have only minimalistic designs. His pants and other apparel are equally unassuming. But never is he seen without his only apparent accessory: a small pendant in the shape of an elaborate Celtic crucifix of silver, hanging from his neck by a chain.
Described by Cadwal as having a "cherub's melody," Timothy has a deceptively effeminate voice in manner and less so in inflection.
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Personality:
“Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to Your Name give glory.”
The foremost thing one might notice about Timothy is his zeal. A devout Catholic, he is well-read in the Bible and zealous. And unlike some others, Timothy has taken the teachings of the Scripture to heart, making him a genuinely friendly and caring person. Love his neighbor, love his enemy? Timothy most certainly does. Honest and loyal, his care for the well-being of others extends to the spiritual: he is convinced that those of heathen faiths – especially the People of the Book But Do Not Believe – and true unbelievers must be enlightened sooner or later. Then there are the Ones Who Come in His Name but Twist His Words, like Westboro, which he finds especially despicable.
Timothy is especially fond of literature, especially medieval history. He knows full well how Duke Enrique of Savoy invaded Monferatto from the Duke of Mantua as he had run out of patience with waiting for Emperor Rudolf of the Holy Roman Empire to answer his petition to have the mentioned territory transferred to the custody of his daughter, Margherita, as she was kicked out of the Mantuan Duke’s court for not having sired a child for her husband, the Duke’s late brother, before he died. Always hungry for more knowledge, his learning of this subject which he most adores is supplemented by the Holy Ghosts whom he summons and who are more than willing to answer his many, many questions. They may also be the reason why his favorite video game is Medieval II: Total War.
Quite softspoken, the mildness of his words is such that people are often left cynically wondering whether or not Timothy is mocking them. The sincerity with which he prays before eating his meals is viewed by some as merely an exaggeration: a mockery of those who practice Christianity. However, Timothy does not practice deceit. What he does is honest.
He believes his unique ability to summon fallen Crusaders is given to him by God.
Talent:
Esoteric Knowledge: Timothy is well-read in obscure history books, and can regurgitate most of what he has learned, knowledge extracted from the literary works of people Like E.B Sledge, Sir Arthur Lloyd, and Peter H. Wilson. But, ever humble, Timothy only shares what he knows when the situation calls for it.
Ability:
Tongue of Fallen Martyrs: Timothy can communicate with summoned Holy Ghosts telepathically, surmounting any distance and time and in pure thought, eliminating the language barrier. Cadwal is a special case, and is an exception to the rule.
Legiones Ecclesiae: At his command, Timothy can call forth Holy Ghosts of the most proactive members of the Church-Militant, namely, Crusaders. Having had this unique gift since early childhood, he has improved the ability in that he can keep indefinitely one Holy Ghost and dispel them at his whim. With a whispered plea and holding a holy symbol of Christianity (like a cross, or his pendant), Timothy beckons the departed souls of those who killed and died in the name of Christ from the ether and into the worldly earth. Fading into existence, they are then at the summoner's beck and call. However, the summoned are picked at random: Timothy does not yet have the ability to call specific people.
Holy Ghosts are the summoned spirits of Christian martyrs. These can be an unknown Crusader or even someone famous like Joan of Arc. Partly transparent, hued an otherworldly blue, and possessed of bright, glowing eyes, these entities are twice as strong and fast as a man and immune to pain – but not harm. While they are ghosts in a sense, they are still shackled to following the laws of physics. However, they do not need their spectral organs to live as they are already dead. Therefore, a bullet is most effective at tearing a Holy Ghost's tendons than holing their heart.
Maintaining a Holy Ghost is done automatically by the soul but at the expense of the body. Timothy is completely alright with one summoned, but is easily winded when he has summoned two. At three and four, he is forced to sit down, with him being pale at the latter. Having five summoned simultaneously will knock him to deathly unconsciousness and will take heavy tolls on his health. While Timothy can keep one Holy Ghost indefinitely, having two or more will strain Timothy's soul so much that after fifteen minutes, they will be forcibly dispelled.
Holy Ghosts are summoned with what they had on their person the moment of their death. While her visit could potentially be a very enlightening experience, Joan of Arc would not fight at her fullest since she wore a dress during her death at the pyre. Crusaders who died in battle are more valuable in that they are usually in full gear when summoned. However, all are prized and valuable relics of the past, and some of them possess ancient knowledge no longer available in the present.
It would appear that Holy Ghosts have lost much of their personality during their centuries in limbo. What they haven't lost, however, is hatred of the heathen, the unbeliever, and the heretic.
Holy Ghosts, being soul-bound to their summoner, are able to communicate with Tim telepathically in pure thoughts, defeating language barriers.
Holy Ghosts can be seen, heard and touched by other people. However, they don't feel much due to their slightly incorporeal properties. They mimic the natural body temperature of a human being, but have got no odor of their own.
Cadwal of Godwyn is a deceased English knight who perished in the First Crusade, struck down by an arrow to his thigh, knocking him off his horse, and delivering a wound that subsequently became gangrenous and from which he did not recover. Acting as a sort of guardian angel, even he himself is not sure what is exactly at work as he shares his mind and soul with Timothy, acting as the boy's second conscience and trying to steer him towards the right path.
Cadwal "sleeps," becoming completely inactive for four hours each day. This is to relieve some of the stress of Timothy's soul from having to maintain another thought-form. Cadwal does his best to time this with Timothy's regular sleeping hours.
Bio:
Born to two middle-class parents as the middle child of a litter of two boys and one girl, there isn't much to say about Timothy, considering his overall and overwhelming averageness which is offset only by his unique and (as he believes) God-given ability. While he was baptized, going to Church was never something routine for his family. Therefore, he sees his powers as a gift from God when they emerged when he was six years old.
Like many children, he thought up an imaginary friend. It was a knight, and his young mind could only describe it as "blue" and "like glass." When he was alone, he would play with the knight, and started a little game with his older brother and younger sister when he introduced the knight to them, and they made their own imaginary friends. Little did Timothy know, however, that his siblings' imagined creations were far different to what he had, for as time went on, the knight's responses became purely his own, and Timothy slowly lost the need to parrot them. Like another person living in his head, the knight would comment on day-to-day life, and when the young Timothy eyed upon a Bible, the knight energetically pleaded the boy to read it.
As little Tim read, his young mind was full of questions even from the starting book of Genesis. He would ask the knight in his head, who formally introduced himself as Cadwal of Godwyn, to explain it all for him, and he spent so many sleepless nights doing this sort of cooperative storytelling that his mother became worried at his lack of sleep and consulted a physician. On his third grade of elementary school, his family had to move elsewhere, and he was saddened by the sudden loss of friends; but Cadwal was always there and would never leave his mind. Upon his insistence, his father took him to Church one day, and was deeply happy at finally worshiping at a proper place.
As he became older and thus more aware of the sheer unnaturality of his unique ability, Tim wondered if he could do more with it. Praying to God, and after consulting Cadwal, he tried to call out an angel to advise him on what to do when his parents were divorcing. However, the only being that faded into existence was not a magnificent scion of Heaven, but a short-lasting, flickering blue ghost of a woman in armor. Timothy could not but gasp "Who are you?" at the figure, who replied with a sagely "Who I am is not important. But your faith in God is," before fading back into nothingness.
Encouraged by Cadwal, Timothy was henceforth convinced of his being blessed. Ever since then, he has been practicing and perfecting this unique ability of his by prayer and meditation.
Speaking with wizened words, Timothy prevented his parents' divorce by driving them to tears as he preached about the sanctity and inviolability of the oaths a couple takes in their marriage ceremony, with the help of his two beloved siblings.
Other:
Drowning in early adolescent male hormones, Timothy wanted to masturbate once (just to try it) but was halted by Cadwal (whom he thought was sleeping), who lectured him fiercely of the value of the "seed" and how it must not be wasted. |
53,090 | 1,441 | 3 | 156 | 2,749 | She had fallen asleep in the library...again. Poppy stretched her arms above her, her shoulders popping fantastically and a euphoric groan comparable to the sound of a high-pitched walrus rumbled through her throat. A gross groggy feeling had devoured her body, her face feeling unpleasantly oily and her eyes achingly heavy, and the nap had left her feeling like utter crap. But at least she had enough energy, the blonde felt like she could lift a mountain or heave the biggest building to ever exist. Poppy wondered distantly what that would be, but decided that she would find out sooner or later. An open book laid before her, on one of the beginning pages, yet there was no point in continuing to read it - she knew everything that would happen anyways, to the last dot. Yawning, Poppy felt her stomach rumble and decided that, yes, she could do with some lunch.
She ambled into the cafeteria and grabbed slices upon slices of pizza - okay, three pizzas, but she was going to eat more later. Poppy scanned the lunchroom, a nauseous nervous feeling washing over her body and she wiggled her limbs in a poor attempt to shake it away. When her eyes landed on a lone girl, she figured she might as well. Poppy began to approach the table, but in her anxiousness, she began to rush until she was at a speed walk and when she slammed herself into the chair, her plate smashing onto the table, her momentum caused her to slide off and to the ground. Unfortunately, she took the chair with her.
Poppy's head bounced off the floor, bursting with pain, and her hip collided with the floor, her knees knocking against the chair. Her face turned the color of her namesake and she struggled to her feet quickly, placing the chair and sitting gently into it, brushing her hair quickly.
"I'm Poppy." Poppy muttered quickly, avoiding the girl's eyes and sticking a hand out. She wiggled nervously in her seat and scrunched her face. | Name:
Poppy O’Conner
Age:
16
Gender:
Female
Personality:
Poppy is an awkward girl who often says the wrong things when around people she doesn’t know well. When with friends, though, Poppy is loud, talkative, and, unfortunately, punny. She doesn’t understand the point of keeping things secret, so she has no qualms with saying exactly what is going on in her life or what of the likes if someone asks her. Poppy has the unfortunate habit of bottling up her emotions and, even when telling her “sob” story, keeps a straight face or shrugs it off when people ask her how she is feeling. The blonde has a hard time connecting with people on a personal level and when she attempts to express her sadness, she is often deterred by sympathetically distant responses. She is not particularly motivated to do anything and tries to find the easiest ways to do things. Her worst habit is procrastination and most of her work does not get done until the night before it’s due.
Talent:
Learner: Poppy learns new things with relative ease and has a near perfect memory where she can store all the new information. She dabbles in most genres of information and knows many random facts.
Ability:
Know-It-All: By pressing her hand anywhere on anything that holds information, - including people - she can absorb the information and remember it completely. However, she can absorb personal information. This gives her a higher level of intelligence than most. If she absorbs a certain martial arts or action from someone, her body can easily replicate the movements, like adoptive muscle memory. Due to absorbing psychology books and pamphlets, Poppy can easily read people by their body language. If an animal is sick? She can check for any symptoms of the million of diseases and illnesses in her knowledge. However, after absorbing too much information, Poppy gets queasy and dizzy; if she goes past that, though she never has so far, she would probably die.
Bio:
Poppy is an American and was born on an Air Force base in Florida. Her father is in the military and she has had to move around a lot for his work. Her parents were always busy with work – not that Poppy minded, because when they weren’t, the family was always hanging out – and so Poppy took up the habit of reading constantly. Because of her father’s work, Poppy’s dad would get deployed many times and Poppy would be stuck with her mother.
It wasn’t that Poppy didn’t like her mother, in fact, Poppy adored her mother...that is before her alcoholism came back after ten years of sobriety (she quit before Poppy was born). Her mother spiraled into a pit of depression and, in turn, Poppy too had begun to feel depressed. Later on, she was diagnosed with depression and anxiety and was prescribed medicine to take. Poppy, often than not, does not take her medicine because “it makes her feel funny.”
One day, when Poppy was fourteen and her father was home from deployment, the blonde girl came home to her mother crying in her bedroom, drunk as per usual, and attempting to call a rehab facility. Not knowing what to do, Poppy attempted to call her dad to help her, but he wasn’t picking up. After the police came (one of the rehab centers had called the cops on her mom to make sure she wasn’t harming herself) and Poppy finally managed to get a hold of her dad, everything just froze for Poppy. Her mother went to rehab until the week before Poppy’s fifteenth birthday, but that wasn’t what the problem was for Poppy. She discovered that, in her time of need, she was having a hard time connecting with her friends. They would tell her that “it would be alright” and that “at least your mom is getting better” but that didn’t satisfy Poppy – they felt distant.
After her mom was released, Poppy’s dad got a new job in Wales and the O’Conner family jumped at the chance to go for it was “a new start.”
Other:
Poppy is terrified of not being able to control herself (therefore, she stays away from drugs, alcohol and such and such) |
53,091 | 1,441 | 4 | 597 | 2,116 | A young pair quickly jogged down the winding pathway. The set of twins was led by the sister, an excited grin on her face, followed by the brother, being pulled by his sleeve his face was much less exuberant. The girl was taking in everything she could with her eyes, catching sights of flowers and off colored bricks, really anything that had any visual interest to her. The boy, despite being behind, was the one watching the road.
"Hey! I'm thinking pizza today!"
The girls's clear tingly voice cut the air with ease. Her bright eyes flashed with her words, she exuded life.
"Pizza? We had that yesterday! And the day before!"
The voice of reason was much less excitable, though not lacking emotion. You can only have so much of a good thing after all.
"Yeah! Pizzas great!"
With that and a giggle she looked back to her brother, his face relaying his obvious distaste for the food to come. It was quite clear he could simply grab something of his own to eat, but they both knew that wasn't going to happen. Just as Nathan broke eye contact to spy the path again, he spotted the back of a boy just ahead. A head of brown hair they seemed quite average, an empty coffee can was currently being discarded at this current time.
"Ali!"
Enough of a warning to cause some sort of stop, Alice's ankles rolled, the momentum carried, and the two fell forward, skidding off the path and through the grass. She landed on her back, while he landed on his face. The girl looked up to see the face of their roadblock.
"...Uh..."
Her cheeks flushed slightly.
"HI!" | Name: Alice and Nathan Deries
Picture/Description: Alice and Nathan are a set of twins, hailing from the southern country of Spain they have sun washed complexions and dark hair. Alice, stands at nearly 5'3 while Nathan is 5'5. Both being quite slender and lithe in total build, they give of a sort of glass doll impression. Heart shaped faces and large green eyes add to this look, though admittedly large ears and thicker brows take away from it. They are two sides of a single coin, being nearly the same with some differences between them.
Age: They are both 16 years of age. (Though Alice was born 23 seconds before Nathan)
Gender: Alice is female, Nathan is male.
Personality: Alice is a much more outgoing and perky type of person, she can be a tad overbearing and clingy if given the chance, though she usually means well. She is somewhat aloof and the sort to take things personally even if not meant to be. Kind and sweet she has her faults. Nathan is a more hushed sort of person, he keeps his lips pursed at most times, thinking things through more than not at all. Slightly awkward at times he isn't the most apt socially, but he doesn't mean to be off-putting. Has trouble being decisive, especially if the decision can result in someone being hurt. Blames himself for trouble more than anyone else. Can come off as cold but really he is a just unsure.
Talent: Alice has the uncanny ability to out-eat anyone. She has come to be a bit embarrassed of it recently,. but she won some eating competitions here and there. Nathan has found he is an exceptional baseball player, pitching and batting the ball harder than anyone would have imagined he could.
Ability: Alice: Legato. Nathan: Forte. Legato is the ability to absorb energy into the users body and nullify most of it. I.e they are hard to knock down. Forte is the ability to expel large amounts of energy, so, they can hit unnaturally hard.
Bio: Nathan and Alice grew up in Spain for the first five years of their lives. Their father was a wealthy man, who started a mattress tycoon that sold world-wide. He moved to eventually expand his business farther, and the twins followed him always. Traveling often they lived colorful childhoods, and didn't really stay anywhere too long. Making friends here and there they always felt together, because they also always had each other. Eventually their father met another woman. The twins mother having died during their births, he had been trying his best to raise them alone. Settling down in America, the twins at age 16, have found steady ground to stay on, and a new mother to love. Their powers had awakened years ago, but they were never in one place long enough for it to become wide-spread news if ever found, so they sort of don't now how to keep a lid on them yet.
Other: As expected they are nearly glued to each other. Alice is Nathan's safety blanket, and vice-versa. |
53,092 | 1,441 | 5 | 554 | 1,584 | There Thisa was sitting in the grass of the yard, might not be the most comfortable spot to sit, but there was this novelty in enjoying the sunshine while surrounded by those small blades of plant. Even though they only started she was already getting used to the feel and just the general vibe of Saint Dymphna's, at least used enough to this school not to get lost of a daily bases, so that's a plus. The distinct sound of pencil meeting paper was dominating her local space, Thisa herself was intent on her own little project. In her lap was a tattered old spiral notebook, while not falling apart it had clearly seen some love over the last handful of years. On that day the subject of her drawings was a small motor and servo assembly, by itself the assembly wasn't anything too complex, but really it was a smaller piece to a much grander puzzle. Lots of shaking, set limit to 500RPM. Probably too weak, find alternative alloy. Sidebar too big, sand it down 1-2 CM. These were examples of notes written down, always one to improve her design Thisa was going over what existed, or more accurately what she planned to one day build seeing as she doesn't really have a way to machine these parts.
Even though she was extremely focused on wrapping up adjustments a sudden commotion on the walkway drew Thisa's eyes away from the white papers, curious in what happened she folded the page to serve as a marker for later. Book under arm, she got up from the mini-field of grass, not too mindful of any stains that could've remained. From her position way off Thisa could spot three people, one was some guy, average really not someone of note, and interestingly a pair of twins, not an everyday sight. More interesting it looked like both of the twins, a girl? Maybe it was a girl, was flat on her back, luckily off into the grass. The other twin, also on the grass, was met with an unfortunate face plant, if Thisa were to guess, that twin could be a boy, maybe. Thisa didn't want to get involved, least right away being at it was too early to tell what would happen, and well she wasn't up for social interaction. Instead the girl stood back, somewhat excited, to how this will pan out. | Name: Theresa “Thisa” Thompson
Age: 16
Gender: Female
Personality: A fairly quiet and reserved girl, not for reasons such as shyness but from indifference. Thisa prefers to stay out of the daily affairs of others, sometimes life can be troublesome enough without bringing in someone else’s issues. That said Thisa is normal socially, friends come easily enough and a conversation is welcomed, even she can get lonely. Due to her naturally reclusive nature, Thisa is slow to anger and can be extremely patient in fact she can’t remember the last time she has ever been angry, which is what she may say. When pushed Thisa has a very harsh temper, when truly angry she can and will become quite aggressive. A good analogy would be to describe her as a stick of dynamite with a very long fuse, it'll take a while but the results would still be drastic. There one true fire way to get Thisa talking is to mention technology, its one subject she can never get enough of.
Talent: Skilled Mechanic: Thisa for her age makes a great mechanic, and a small time inventor. If its physical Thisa can understand it and even reconstruct it just with a few quick glances. Her skills have also been somewhat lucrative with people coming to her for repairs on broken down items. Her prowess in mechanics don’t translate quite into computers, sure she’s competent in their operation but otherwise is about average.
Ability: Finely-Tuned Mechanisms: Thisa’s ability comes around the idea of creation, she can manipulate inorganic matter into virtually any machine, and theoretically of any size. There are limits of course, to create something requires an equivalent exchange, the middle of a grass field leads to very little useable material, which limits or even completely nullifies her usefulness while a junkyard can lead to endless opportunities. Another thing the initial creation of a machine taxes the body, two factors are considered, the size of the machine and the complexity. A small pulley system has almost no affect on her stamina, something of human size would be very draining at the least, and something like a full semi truck can leave her almost comatose.
There is also a limit to the number of machines that can operate at once, how many again depends on the size and complexity. Once this said limit is passed machines start to break apart, or even meet a violent end for the more volatile creations. When a machine is deassembled the matter that made it up returns back to its original form, that is unless the machine is destroyed by force.
Bio: Thisa is a single child who hails for a standard middle class home. From an early age her parents pushed “constructive toys” onto her, ones such as Legos or Lincoln Logs. Her father worked as an automobile technician, and her mother an aerospace engineer, because of their own success they wanted to pass it down to their daughter. Thisa took well to the toys eventually progressing from simple plastic pieces to tool kits and personal projects. Thisa created a scrapbook filled with designs and other miscellaneous drawings, some of which became a reality. One such was a robotic arm designed for a competition, a simple middle school level one so needless to say Thisa’s arm won without contest. Moving onto the present day Thisa is a fresh transfer, Saint Dmyphna's Highschool offered great opportunities despite the cost of moving out there in the first place, and while Thisa isn’t much for people the prospect of meeting new people was still exciting in of itself. |
53,093 | 1,441 | 6 | 2,465 | 3,276 | & - Cafeteria
A few students caught the little mishap of Poppy, and sniggered in the background. One group got up and approached Poppy and Belle, leaving their own trays of food behind for a bit. There were five of them in total, three females and two males. They were still smiling, but there wasn't any malice in their smiles.
"Hey, you okay there?" one of the boys said. "That was one heck of a crash you had."
Up close, it was apparent that the five of them were upperclassmen, judging by the color of their ID laces; two juniors, a boy and girl and remaining three were seniors.
"You ought to be more careful," chastised one of the senior girls, right before cupping Poppy's face in her hands. Something akin to a jolt of electricity passed through her body for a moment, before disappearing. The girl immediately stepped back and lifted her hands in the air. "Wait! Before you fire off any accusations of sexual harassment, just give me a moment!"
She turned to one of her companions, a short male junior. "Some pain in the knees, head and hips, Dennis. Oh, and a bit of nausea."
The brown haired junior nodded stared at Poppy for a moment. He reached out and casually tapped Poppy's hand with a finger, and at once, all the pain in her body was gone. The girl earlier grinned knowingly, as did her companions. This was usually the part where they were amazed.
"Say, are you two girls new here?" asked the senior.
& - Campus Walkway
The sonorous sound of multiple footsteps could be heard from nearby. Coming in the opposite direction of Alice and Nathan, a group big enough to fill two classrooms - meaning they numbered at around eighty students - walked through the path. Actually, to call it walking was a definite misnomer; it would be more apt to describe their movement as 'marching'; they moved in unison and formation, and not one of them got in the way of the other.
The whole group was openly tense and rigid, as if afraid that something might pop out and attack them at any moment - which may be an accurate depiction of their current situation, considering the girl at the head of the group: a short, dark haired junior, with bags under her eyes and a frown on her face. She was fiddling with a Rubics Cube with some measure of annoyance.
To those uninitiated with the school and its various important figures, it would make a weird sight, but for those that were familiar, the crowds tenseness was not just justified, but completely necessary. The girl at their head was a Ruler, and she was also infamously known for her volatile temper, which, coupled with her terrifying ability, was truly a match made in hell. Simply put, once she inevitably loses her temper, everyone would start running.
After all, no one wanted to be around Louise Sophoro once she got pissed. | Character Sheet:
Name:
Picture/Description:
Age (At least Highschool age):
Gender:
Personality:
Talent:
Ability:
Bio:
Other: |
53,094 | 1,441 | 7 | 2,176 | 944 | The footsteps of that band. What awful tidings, Cadwal remarked.
Timothy did a double-take between the spill of twins at his feet and the nervous crowd coming in hot behind him. Thinking fast, he crouched, and offered a helping hand to the beleaguered siblings.
"Hey, get up," he said, in a mild, cautionary manner, concern evident in his voice. "Louise is coming, and you don't want to be anywhere near her."
He wasn't new to St. Dymphna's, having been there as a freshman and boldly working through the sophomore year as everyone else did. Now at the sweet age of sixteen and a junior, he had always detached himself from the strange power-politics that ran about the student body, and always turned down solicitations into any of the parties that wanted him as a member for some reason or another. Having taken a lonesome route, Timothy typically spent most of his time alone, either poring through a good read or contemplating silently in the campus chapel. | Timothy “Tim” Aquinas
Description:
An unassuming youth with pale skin, brown hair and emerald eyes, Timothy is lean and rather thin. Thin-framed eyeglasses sit upon the bridge of his nose, windows to eyes that brighten up in a charming, childlike way when he smiles. He stands at a good 6’0” tall, and prefers simple clothing: many of his shirts are black or grey and without print, and the ones that do have only minimalistic designs. His pants and other apparel are equally unassuming. But never is he seen without his only apparent accessory: a small pendant in the shape of an elaborate Celtic crucifix of silver, hanging from his neck by a chain.
Described by Cadwal as having a "cherub's melody," Timothy has a deceptively effeminate voice in manner and less so in inflection.
Age: 16
Gender: Male
Personality:
“Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to Your Name give glory.”
The foremost thing one might notice about Timothy is his zeal. A devout Catholic, he is well-read in the Bible and zealous. And unlike some others, Timothy has taken the teachings of the Scripture to heart, making him a genuinely friendly and caring person. Love his neighbor, love his enemy? Timothy most certainly does. Honest and loyal, his care for the well-being of others extends to the spiritual: he is convinced that those of heathen faiths – especially the People of the Book But Do Not Believe – and true unbelievers must be enlightened sooner or later. Then there are the Ones Who Come in His Name but Twist His Words, like Westboro, which he finds especially despicable.
Timothy is especially fond of literature, especially medieval history. He knows full well how Duke Enrique of Savoy invaded Monferatto from the Duke of Mantua as he had run out of patience with waiting for Emperor Rudolf of the Holy Roman Empire to answer his petition to have the mentioned territory transferred to the custody of his daughter, Margherita, as she was kicked out of the Mantuan Duke’s court for not having sired a child for her husband, the Duke’s late brother, before he died. Always hungry for more knowledge, his learning of this subject which he most adores is supplemented by the Holy Ghosts whom he summons and who are more than willing to answer his many, many questions. They may also be the reason why his favorite video game is Medieval II: Total War.
Quite softspoken, the mildness of his words is such that people are often left cynically wondering whether or not Timothy is mocking them. The sincerity with which he prays before eating his meals is viewed by some as merely an exaggeration: a mockery of those who practice Christianity. However, Timothy does not practice deceit. What he does is honest.
He believes his unique ability to summon fallen Crusaders is given to him by God.
Talent:
Esoteric Knowledge: Timothy is well-read in obscure history books, and can regurgitate most of what he has learned, knowledge extracted from the literary works of people Like E.B Sledge, Sir Arthur Lloyd, and Peter H. Wilson. But, ever humble, Timothy only shares what he knows when the situation calls for it.
Ability:
Tongue of Fallen Martyrs: Timothy can communicate with summoned Holy Ghosts telepathically, surmounting any distance and time and in pure thought, eliminating the language barrier. Cadwal is a special case, and is an exception to the rule.
Legiones Ecclesiae: At his command, Timothy can call forth Holy Ghosts of the most proactive members of the Church-Militant, namely, Crusaders. Having had this unique gift since early childhood, he has improved the ability in that he can keep indefinitely one Holy Ghost and dispel them at his whim. With a whispered plea and holding a holy symbol of Christianity (like a cross, or his pendant), Timothy beckons the departed souls of those who killed and died in the name of Christ from the ether and into the worldly earth. Fading into existence, they are then at the summoner's beck and call. However, the summoned are picked at random: Timothy does not yet have the ability to call specific people.
Holy Ghosts are the summoned spirits of Christian martyrs. These can be an unknown Crusader or even someone famous like Joan of Arc. Partly transparent, hued an otherworldly blue, and possessed of bright, glowing eyes, these entities are twice as strong and fast as a man and immune to pain – but not harm. While they are ghosts in a sense, they are still shackled to following the laws of physics. However, they do not need their spectral organs to live as they are already dead. Therefore, a bullet is most effective at tearing a Holy Ghost's tendons than holing their heart.
Maintaining a Holy Ghost is done automatically by the soul but at the expense of the body. Timothy is completely alright with one summoned, but is easily winded when he has summoned two. At three and four, he is forced to sit down, with him being pale at the latter. Having five summoned simultaneously will knock him to deathly unconsciousness and will take heavy tolls on his health. While Timothy can keep one Holy Ghost indefinitely, having two or more will strain Timothy's soul so much that after fifteen minutes, they will be forcibly dispelled.
Holy Ghosts are summoned with what they had on their person the moment of their death. While her visit could potentially be a very enlightening experience, Joan of Arc would not fight at her fullest since she wore a dress during her death at the pyre. Crusaders who died in battle are more valuable in that they are usually in full gear when summoned. However, all are prized and valuable relics of the past, and some of them possess ancient knowledge no longer available in the present.
It would appear that Holy Ghosts have lost much of their personality during their centuries in limbo. What they haven't lost, however, is hatred of the heathen, the unbeliever, and the heretic.
Holy Ghosts, being soul-bound to their summoner, are able to communicate with Tim telepathically in pure thoughts, defeating language barriers.
Holy Ghosts can be seen, heard and touched by other people. However, they don't feel much due to their slightly incorporeal properties. They mimic the natural body temperature of a human being, but have got no odor of their own.
Cadwal of Godwyn is a deceased English knight who perished in the First Crusade, struck down by an arrow to his thigh, knocking him off his horse, and delivering a wound that subsequently became gangrenous and from which he did not recover. Acting as a sort of guardian angel, even he himself is not sure what is exactly at work as he shares his mind and soul with Timothy, acting as the boy's second conscience and trying to steer him towards the right path.
Cadwal "sleeps," becoming completely inactive for four hours each day. This is to relieve some of the stress of Timothy's soul from having to maintain another thought-form. Cadwal does his best to time this with Timothy's regular sleeping hours.
Bio:
Born to two middle-class parents as the middle child of a litter of two boys and one girl, there isn't much to say about Timothy, considering his overall and overwhelming averageness which is offset only by his unique and (as he believes) God-given ability. While he was baptized, going to Church was never something routine for his family. Therefore, he sees his powers as a gift from God when they emerged when he was six years old.
Like many children, he thought up an imaginary friend. It was a knight, and his young mind could only describe it as "blue" and "like glass." When he was alone, he would play with the knight, and started a little game with his older brother and younger sister when he introduced the knight to them, and they made their own imaginary friends. Little did Timothy know, however, that his siblings' imagined creations were far different to what he had, for as time went on, the knight's responses became purely his own, and Timothy slowly lost the need to parrot them. Like another person living in his head, the knight would comment on day-to-day life, and when the young Timothy eyed upon a Bible, the knight energetically pleaded the boy to read it.
As little Tim read, his young mind was full of questions even from the starting book of Genesis. He would ask the knight in his head, who formally introduced himself as Cadwal of Godwyn, to explain it all for him, and he spent so many sleepless nights doing this sort of cooperative storytelling that his mother became worried at his lack of sleep and consulted a physician. On his third grade of elementary school, his family had to move elsewhere, and he was saddened by the sudden loss of friends; but Cadwal was always there and would never leave his mind. Upon his insistence, his father took him to Church one day, and was deeply happy at finally worshiping at a proper place.
As he became older and thus more aware of the sheer unnaturality of his unique ability, Tim wondered if he could do more with it. Praying to God, and after consulting Cadwal, he tried to call out an angel to advise him on what to do when his parents were divorcing. However, the only being that faded into existence was not a magnificent scion of Heaven, but a short-lasting, flickering blue ghost of a woman in armor. Timothy could not but gasp "Who are you?" at the figure, who replied with a sagely "Who I am is not important. But your faith in God is," before fading back into nothingness.
Encouraged by Cadwal, Timothy was henceforth convinced of his being blessed. Ever since then, he has been practicing and perfecting this unique ability of his by prayer and meditation.
Speaking with wizened words, Timothy prevented his parents' divorce by driving them to tears as he preached about the sanctity and inviolability of the oaths a couple takes in their marriage ceremony, with the help of his two beloved siblings.
Other:
Drowning in early adolescent male hormones, Timothy wanted to masturbate once (just to try it) but was halted by Cadwal (whom he thought was sleeping), who lectured him fiercely of the value of the "seed" and how it must not be wasted. |
53,095 | 1,441 | 8 | 597 | 2,116 | Alice took the hand as quickly as she could, using the new support to pull herself upwards. Nathan made do by himself, straightening up while rubbing his new sore cheek. Landing on one's face was not optimal.
"Thank you very much!" Alice pumped the hand up and down for a hearty shake, while looking off at the oncoming crowd. The girl in front carried an air about her, one that would come with the smoke of a thought to be dormant volcano. Alice would usually try and introduce herself, as making fast friends was something she had grown to do, but she heeded the warning tone given, and decided against it.
"Watch where you're going please." Nathan mumbled to his sister, pinching her shoulder as he came up behind her, receiving a slap on the arm in return he looked to Timothy. "Thanks for the help, uh, I guess." He didn't really receive any though that wasn't really anyone's fault. He looked back to see the enclosing group, and regarded the girl taking point.
Alice looked to Timothy and quickly offered an escape. "Cafeteria?" She asked simply, trying to use as little time as possible. They were getting pretty close... | Name: Alice and Nathan Deries
Picture/Description: Alice and Nathan are a set of twins, hailing from the southern country of Spain they have sun washed complexions and dark hair. Alice, stands at nearly 5'3 while Nathan is 5'5. Both being quite slender and lithe in total build, they give of a sort of glass doll impression. Heart shaped faces and large green eyes add to this look, though admittedly large ears and thicker brows take away from it. They are two sides of a single coin, being nearly the same with some differences between them.
Age: They are both 16 years of age. (Though Alice was born 23 seconds before Nathan)
Gender: Alice is female, Nathan is male.
Personality: Alice is a much more outgoing and perky type of person, she can be a tad overbearing and clingy if given the chance, though she usually means well. She is somewhat aloof and the sort to take things personally even if not meant to be. Kind and sweet she has her faults. Nathan is a more hushed sort of person, he keeps his lips pursed at most times, thinking things through more than not at all. Slightly awkward at times he isn't the most apt socially, but he doesn't mean to be off-putting. Has trouble being decisive, especially if the decision can result in someone being hurt. Blames himself for trouble more than anyone else. Can come off as cold but really he is a just unsure.
Talent: Alice has the uncanny ability to out-eat anyone. She has come to be a bit embarrassed of it recently,. but she won some eating competitions here and there. Nathan has found he is an exceptional baseball player, pitching and batting the ball harder than anyone would have imagined he could.
Ability: Alice: Legato. Nathan: Forte. Legato is the ability to absorb energy into the users body and nullify most of it. I.e they are hard to knock down. Forte is the ability to expel large amounts of energy, so, they can hit unnaturally hard.
Bio: Nathan and Alice grew up in Spain for the first five years of their lives. Their father was a wealthy man, who started a mattress tycoon that sold world-wide. He moved to eventually expand his business farther, and the twins followed him always. Traveling often they lived colorful childhoods, and didn't really stay anywhere too long. Making friends here and there they always felt together, because they also always had each other. Eventually their father met another woman. The twins mother having died during their births, he had been trying his best to raise them alone. Settling down in America, the twins at age 16, have found steady ground to stay on, and a new mother to love. Their powers had awakened years ago, but they were never in one place long enough for it to become wide-spread news if ever found, so they sort of don't now how to keep a lid on them yet.
Other: As expected they are nearly glued to each other. Alice is Nathan's safety blanket, and vice-versa. |
53,096 | 1,441 | 9 | 1,046 | 4,333 | Belle blinked as a girl seemed to appear out of nowhere and crash into her life... literally. Wide-eyed and bewildered, Belle raised a brow at the girl when she offered a hand and introduced herself as Poppy.
...What... a strange person.
A small giggle grew in her stomach and escaped through her lips and she lifted a hand to her mouth as if to halt it's escape. She stopped however as a group of some upperclassmen and her classmates approached.
"I'm not... Though I suppose I'm never in class long enough for anyone to really know me." She returned, chuckling. She'd at least seen most of these people but she didn't know their names or much about them. The powers weren't that much of a shock to her though she couldn't say the same for Poppy.
Still, even though she'd spent a year here, she still hand problems with her powers. Besides, not coming in as a freshman had it's disadvantages. As far as powers were concerned, she was still a sophomore. She turned back to Poppy and smiled, a soft yet playful smile. "It's nice to meet you, Poppy. I'm Belle." She introduced herself, and then nodded to the group near them.
Once that was done with, she returned once again to her pizza, stuffing her face, small bits of red forming around her mouth. "Yoh rike pitha thoo?" (You like pizza too?) she asked Poppy, her mouth full. | Name: Isabelle "Belle" Castillo
Age: 17
Gender: Female (Though she has been mistaken for a male.)
Personality: Artistic and bubbly, Belle tends to get on people's nerves. There are some people who also say she's a bit bi-polar as she can go from being happy and bubbly, to suddenly running off to do something with a blank stare on her face. She never likes to sit still and loves meeting new people and making new friends. She can't stand sweet foods and she hates, 'perfect' people.
Talent:
Artist: Belle is good at all facets of the arts; literature, digital and traditional medias, and music.
Ability:
People Whisperer: Belle can use her artistic abilites, music, paint, literature or otherwise, to make people feel a certain way. In this, she can impart emotions on to the person viewing, hearing, or touching her art. Once the art has been created, she no longer has control over it, though the art will lose it's power within a day or two.
Bio: Belle is the daughter of a wealthy family and is treated as a princess. However, she has other plans. She hates the dresses they put her in and the things they make her do. She'd much rather spend her time doing art, listening to her imaginary friend, "Muse." After a fight with her parents, Belle ran away from home, choosing to stay at a nearby school. Her parents, unable to bring their daughter back, reluctantly decided to fund her and now she will occasionally go home to visit with the promise that they won't try to hook her up with a 'prince' and she won't do any art.
Other: ...Uh... Belle isn't afraid to speak her mind. At all. :|
OH, and she has a pet cat named Kiri. He's a fat, black and white cat that lives in her room. |
53,097 | 1,441 | 10 | 1,712 | 2,118 | They came in the blink of an eye. One moment, relative calm in the cafeteria. The next, pep and chaos, wrapped in charismatic exteriors.
The St. Dymphna's Spirit Committee.
In they came, whooping and laughing and cheering, engaging every student they saw. They were clad in bright school t-shirts with paint smeared on their faces in the school colours. To newcomers, they'd recognize them as the upperclassmen who'd cheered at them and thrown streamers when the new grade came inside for the first day. Older classmates would likely see them as the irritatingly cheery welcoming pests, but they didn't care.
Their leader, Aila Duquesne. She skipped along, smiling, a thick ponytail of cornrows swaying with every step. Following her were about nine other students, all juniors and seniors, all trying just as hard to rally up the newbies. Aila hovered around for only a moment before climbing up onto a table, motioning for her partners to quiet down.
"Hello everyone your attention please!" She called, her voice somewhat louder than what would be expected, carrying clearly to every corner of the large room. She smiled. "Now, before someone takes me down from here, I'd just like to announce that we hope to see all you freshmen at the intro party tonight! Believe me, it's a party you'll want to be attending." A sly knowing glinted in her eye. "As for the rest of you, welcome back!"
Aila didn't have much time to say more, as a teacher came to get her off the table, grumbling something about "Respect of school property..." and "Advertising out-of-school events on the grounds." The rest of the Spirit Committee left the cafeteria in pursuit of any area they hadn't already hit. It was pretty important, after all, to get as many newbies to that party as possible. Better they find out about the school's 'eccentricity' there rather than finding out on their own and freaking to about it.
In any case, she saw a bit of a crowd around the end of a table and moved toward it, seeing a few familiar faces in the bunch. "Hey! You alright there?" she asked as the image of a dishevelled girl came into view. However, it looked like a few from the group already had it covered. Nudging the senior boy, she murmured, "Little risky doing that during the day, don't you think? Don't want to scare them off too soon..." | Name: Aila Duquesne (pronounced 'Doo-kaine')
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Skill:
Aila has an incredible voice. With uncanny range and crystal clarity at any volume, she can out-sing and out-speak any competition.
Ability:
Mockingbird. Aila can flawlessly imitate any sound she's heard before, especially voices. If she hears your voice once, she can replicate it perfectly. She can also use several voices at a time, making it sound like whatever she's saying is being said by multiple people. However, this puts a lot of strain on her voice and doesn't last too long before ending in sputtering coughs. Her voice carries unnaturally far, and she is able to throw her voice (make it sound like it’s coming from somewhere else). Her power is very much give little, take little. It has little consequence other than losing her voice/dizziness when overused, but isn’t exactly taking down any buildings either.
Personality:
Aila is a lighthearted, fun girl who’s quite easy to get along with. She’s outgoing and confident, socially adept and mischievous, making fast friends and able to laugh at pretty much anything. She’s sarcastic to a definite fault, but can take on a mothering nature when her loved ones are hurting. Otherwise, she likes innocently poking fun at those she likes and playing tricks on people using her ability.
Bio:
Aila was born and raised in the French quarter of New Orleans. Her parents were a happy couple who owned a dance studio. Her father was skilled in dance, while her mother was a skilled piano player, and Aila fit right into the family with her silken voice. Her childhood was happy and relatively uneventful, save for the many vocal competitions and recitals she was entered into throughout her childhood. She blossomed in competitions and practice with her mother, and her father taught her to dance (she wasn’t fantastic at it, and it was more a bonding exercise than anything.)
Other:
Aila has a hard time not showing off her abilities during the day; she’d happily sit somewhere doing parlour tricks to impress people all day, so long as someone got a laugh out of it. She also wants to be an announcer for school events, loves birds and can’t cook for shite. |
53,098 | 1,441 | 11 | 156 | 2,749 | “Oh, I’m fine.” Poppy insisted to the others, her face impossibly turning redder.
Was she new? Yes. Should she say that? Was there possibly some hazing sort-of-thing that these students might do? Poppy had heard about hazing in other schools and the idea quite scared her. At her last school, there was the dreaded Freshmen Friday…where they dumped freshmen in trashcans. Smiling politely and tightly, Poppy reluctantly nodded her head.
“Yeah, I’m new.” Laughing nervously, she turned to the girl she joined, her mortification doubled at the fact that this girl saw her fall. “Er…”
“Yoh rike putha thoo?” Poppy squirmed in her seat, trying to understand the girl before nodding exuberantly. She had something in common with the girl – pizza! Common traits lead to friendship. And, Poppy read somewhere, if two talk about someone or something they both hate, they are more likely to become friends. “What do you hate? I hate sand, spicy stuff, and spiders. There was also this one girl named Samantha at my old school and she was a down-right bitch.”
What her answer might be, Poppy didn’t know, because just at that moment, people burst into the cafeteria, faces painted and cheering. Poppy nearly lunged herself out of her seat in surprise, but managed to save herself the embarrassment by clenching onto the table. After the speech the one girl – a rule breaker, apparently – made, Poppy nearly died of excitement and nervousness.
“A party? Should we go?” Poppy asked, glancing at her tablemate before she caught on. “Er, I mean, not that we are doing anything together. That was just an assumption. My dad used to say, and I’m pretty sure everybody else did too, that when you assume you make an ass out of you and me. Man, sorry, I shouldn’t assume or I’ll make us asses.”
Poppy gestured wildly to the side as if to ‘crazy’ and raised an eyebrow, taking a quick bite of her pizza. | Name:
Poppy O’Conner
Age:
16
Gender:
Female
Personality:
Poppy is an awkward girl who often says the wrong things when around people she doesn’t know well. When with friends, though, Poppy is loud, talkative, and, unfortunately, punny. She doesn’t understand the point of keeping things secret, so she has no qualms with saying exactly what is going on in her life or what of the likes if someone asks her. Poppy has the unfortunate habit of bottling up her emotions and, even when telling her “sob” story, keeps a straight face or shrugs it off when people ask her how she is feeling. The blonde has a hard time connecting with people on a personal level and when she attempts to express her sadness, she is often deterred by sympathetically distant responses. She is not particularly motivated to do anything and tries to find the easiest ways to do things. Her worst habit is procrastination and most of her work does not get done until the night before it’s due.
Talent:
Learner: Poppy learns new things with relative ease and has a near perfect memory where she can store all the new information. She dabbles in most genres of information and knows many random facts.
Ability:
Know-It-All: By pressing her hand anywhere on anything that holds information, - including people - she can absorb the information and remember it completely. However, she can absorb personal information. This gives her a higher level of intelligence than most. If she absorbs a certain martial arts or action from someone, her body can easily replicate the movements, like adoptive muscle memory. Due to absorbing psychology books and pamphlets, Poppy can easily read people by their body language. If an animal is sick? She can check for any symptoms of the million of diseases and illnesses in her knowledge. However, after absorbing too much information, Poppy gets queasy and dizzy; if she goes past that, though she never has so far, she would probably die.
Bio:
Poppy is an American and was born on an Air Force base in Florida. Her father is in the military and she has had to move around a lot for his work. Her parents were always busy with work – not that Poppy minded, because when they weren’t, the family was always hanging out – and so Poppy took up the habit of reading constantly. Because of her father’s work, Poppy’s dad would get deployed many times and Poppy would be stuck with her mother.
It wasn’t that Poppy didn’t like her mother, in fact, Poppy adored her mother...that is before her alcoholism came back after ten years of sobriety (she quit before Poppy was born). Her mother spiraled into a pit of depression and, in turn, Poppy too had begun to feel depressed. Later on, she was diagnosed with depression and anxiety and was prescribed medicine to take. Poppy, often than not, does not take her medicine because “it makes her feel funny.”
One day, when Poppy was fourteen and her father was home from deployment, the blonde girl came home to her mother crying in her bedroom, drunk as per usual, and attempting to call a rehab facility. Not knowing what to do, Poppy attempted to call her dad to help her, but he wasn’t picking up. After the police came (one of the rehab centers had called the cops on her mom to make sure she wasn’t harming herself) and Poppy finally managed to get a hold of her dad, everything just froze for Poppy. Her mother went to rehab until the week before Poppy’s fifteenth birthday, but that wasn’t what the problem was for Poppy. She discovered that, in her time of need, she was having a hard time connecting with her friends. They would tell her that “it would be alright” and that “at least your mom is getting better” but that didn’t satisfy Poppy – they felt distant.
After her mom was released, Poppy’s dad got a new job in Wales and the O’Conner family jumped at the chance to go for it was “a new start.”
Other:
Poppy is terrified of not being able to control herself (therefore, she stays away from drugs, alcohol and such and such) |
53,099 | 1,441 | 12 | 1,046 | 4,333 | Belle nearly spit out the pizza in her mouth when Aila and her 'squad' arrived as loud and flashy as ever. She chuckled, shaking her head. For a school that had such abilities, being flashy around new students was the norm. She remember her first year here when this group pretty much attacked her. It was in that moment that she knew something was up. Something.
After the party, she'd had a much, much better idea of just how much that something was. She blinked, remembering that Poppy had asked her a question. What... did she hate? Such a strange question. "I... uhhhh... I 'm not sure. I guess... I dislike.... Oh! I don't like sweet foods... That's... That's it, I guess. I don't like horror movies either I guess... I just don't do well with scary, I guess."
I said I guess a lot... Ughhh...
She blinked when Poppy brought up the party. She'd almost forgotten that it hadn't already happened this year. It would be interesting to go again and watch the faces of the new students, to observe rather than participate. "We should go." She replied, smiling brightly over at Poppy, completely disregarding the fact that Poppy had spewed word vomit at her.
"Feel free to assume. Even if you are an ass, it won't change how beautiful you are." She replied, chuckling. Then, stopped, suddenly realized what she'd said. "That sounded better in my head. Anyway, an ass or a gentile, I believe all humans have some merit. I don't think being an ass is all that bad..." She added, more careful with her words this time.
"But yes, we should go to this party." She finished and took another bite of her pizza. | Name: Isabelle "Belle" Castillo
Age: 17
Gender: Female (Though she has been mistaken for a male.)
Personality: Artistic and bubbly, Belle tends to get on people's nerves. There are some people who also say she's a bit bi-polar as she can go from being happy and bubbly, to suddenly running off to do something with a blank stare on her face. She never likes to sit still and loves meeting new people and making new friends. She can't stand sweet foods and she hates, 'perfect' people.
Talent:
Artist: Belle is good at all facets of the arts; literature, digital and traditional medias, and music.
Ability:
People Whisperer: Belle can use her artistic abilites, music, paint, literature or otherwise, to make people feel a certain way. In this, she can impart emotions on to the person viewing, hearing, or touching her art. Once the art has been created, she no longer has control over it, though the art will lose it's power within a day or two.
Bio: Belle is the daughter of a wealthy family and is treated as a princess. However, she has other plans. She hates the dresses they put her in and the things they make her do. She'd much rather spend her time doing art, listening to her imaginary friend, "Muse." After a fight with her parents, Belle ran away from home, choosing to stay at a nearby school. Her parents, unable to bring their daughter back, reluctantly decided to fund her and now she will occasionally go home to visit with the promise that they won't try to hook her up with a 'prince' and she won't do any art.
Other: ...Uh... Belle isn't afraid to speak her mind. At all. :|
OH, and she has a pet cat named Kiri. He's a fat, black and white cat that lives in her room. |
53,100 | 1,441 | 13 | 2,465 | 3,276 | &
The group that came earlier joined everyone else in gawking at the Spirit Committee. Of course, they recognized <<Aila>> and her special brand of eye-catching uh . . . something, but it was never really the kind of thing you could get used to. Of course, when they were inevitably told off by a teacher, most of the students laughed good-naturally. The older ones nodded in approval - strange though it might be, it still got people to attend the party. Though the different factions of that school used that same party to gather new members, it was still imperative that they get the new kids to attend - the Spirit Committee was right after all: It was better they become familiar with the less normal parts of the school in a place where it could be controlled, rather than in some random place where fatal accidents could happen.
The group that had initially approached <<Poppy>> and <<Belle>> split up; three conversed with <<Aila>> and her Committee while the remaining two stayed with former aforementioned girls.
The oldest girl couldn't hold back a chuckle. <<Poppy's>> awkwardness was a bit adorkable to watch - kind of like watching a pug chase it's tail. "About the party, she's right. It's a great way for all the newcomers to be introduced, and don't worry, there's no bullying," added the senior in consideration for <<Poppy>>.
"As if anyone would attempt a bull-session with Winston or Louise around," muttered her companion loud enough for them to hear.
With <<Aila>>, the boy that preformed the treatment on <<Poppy>> explained himself. "It's no problem. Mine's not one of the more frightening abilities anyway - if anything, I'd say it's rather attractive to be around," he said cheerfully. "Besides I think the girl somehow didn't notice."
&
Louise group stopped as they neared <<Timothy>> and the others. The cause was because Louise herself stopped; apparently, she had gotten to a point of frustration with the Rubik's cube she was toying where she could no longer focus on anything else, including walking. After a few seconds of frustrated twisting and glaring, she gave up and shouted: "Hey, any of you guys have any tips for fixing this thing!?"
Her question was met with stiff silence. No one wanted to answer her, for fear of giving the wrong answer. Of course, Louise was beginning to look annoyed with the lack of answer, so it was becoming increasingly clear that they were doomed either way. The group looked at each other nervously, desperately wishing someone would sacrifice themselves for the whole.
"Oi, you, girl over there," she said, looking at <<Thisa>> with a frown, "you look smart, you mind helping me here? These guys are useless," she added while jotting a thumb at the crowd behind her, who were much relieved at no longer having to offer up a human sacrifice to the tiny goddess of darkness.
Meanwhile, coming in from the other direction was a group of four students. They stopped in their tracks when they saw Louise and scooted closer to <<Alice & Nathan>>, positioning themselves strategically behind them. "What's going on here?" one of them whispered to the two. The oldest one of them silently pulled out a cellphone and began recording with it, an expectant look on his face. | Character Sheet:
Name:
Picture/Description:
Age (At least Highschool age):
Gender:
Personality:
Talent:
Ability:
Bio:
Other: |
53,101 | 1,442 | 0 | 141 | 759 | Forgotten Heroes
I know too much. It’s the same rhetoric, different people. Heroes are a breed of people constructed by some people with money to look fancy and make pretty sounding speeches. The ideal people strive for. Politics creates division among the many. They will tell you they are for or against discrimination against Mutants, Powers, and Aliens. But it’s all a distraction to keep you fighting amongst yourselves, to continue spewing lines of hatred and bigotry to the people the politician you agree with tells you who the enemy is.
But what’s that matter? The X-men will make it right, they are ambassadors of good and justice for all. Why’s that matter? The Avengers stand for unity and equality or so you think. Humans and powers, Aliens, and Mutants working together side by side. It’s all a rooze. They are all too perfect, to selfless. They have people strive for something that is not realistic.
Like rose tinted glasses maxed to the extreme. Who don’t know a thing about the realities of life. They are more like celebrities in uniforms, who take on the pretty jobs. The ones that save the world, or save the citizens so they can be in the news. Look good for the magazines and for the people. They have forgotten what true suffering is about.
Or what it truly means to be a freak. They have forgotten their message. Because power corrupts, absolute power corrupts absolutely. Money changes the minds of people and even heroes like Xavier and Nick Fury go far off the message. They are sitting somewhere in a backroom of VIP politics with the likes of Magneto, the President of the United States, the Mayor of New York, the Senators, sipping cocktails, exchanging money and making deals.
Because it’s always the people we think are selfless doing the good for all, that are the best liars. Their smiles. Their progressive ideals are all too make money. To turn a profit. The heroes like Cyclops, or Rogue, even Wolverine, have lost sight of their message because they can come out of limos, walk on red carpets with celebrities.
And many young and gifted individuals believe they can be them. Then they get hit with the reality that they are not desirable. They are of a different class of special. They are minority even among their peers. They’ll never be cherished heroes, getting their hands calloused with the hard work that doesn’t make the X-Men or Avengers or any of the other groups look good.
Just like your average worker who believes their politicians and those with money design them jobs so they can live. But there is no sweat nor toil on their brow, because they don’t have to live with the burden of hard work.
I know what hard work is. I have money. But I know what hard work is. And I know what it's like to be in between. To be able to think and not be shoehorned into a box. It makes me an outside. An enemy to them. An enemy in their eyes. I either accept their blood money or I continue to be a martyr with pockets.
Q
Xavier stares across his desk towards him. The young before Xavier was exceptionally beautiful, unnatural so. It wouldn’t surprise him if the young man was more than simply a young man and something far more supernatural. Xavier stared at the funding request or really the assistance request. Why did this young man even bother?
His years were getting to him. To be that young and idealistic, he remembers it, but his body was beginning to ache and his mind was becoming idle. He had not achieved all that he had desire, but he still had achieved something.
Yes, he believed he had achieved something at least. Despite being able to recognize the young man’s beauty, Xavier was worried he could not hear the thoughts of this young man’s mind nor could he make out the details of his face. Every time he tried to do so, all he got was a glimmering glow of light. The young man was shielding himself from him.
So he was clever and idealistic.
“Q is it?” Xavier ask.
“That’s correct Professor,” and he was a suck up as well, or perhaps he thought it appeal to some kind of greater ego.
“You have come to my school directly and my office directly, to discuss this request?” Xavier asked.
“That’s correct, I sent you a few emails, and a few voicemails. When I did not receive a question, I felt it necessary to come to you directly,” Q told him.
Xavier just furrowed his brows.
“And exactly is that you want from me, I heard something about an exchange of mutants? And that means?”
“It means I want your undesirables Xavier,”
“For what?”
“My own reasons,”
Xavier sighs and stares at the young man, he turns away looking at him hurt just a little. It was hard to read him. Hard to see him. He didn’t trust anyone who felt the need to hide their own identity from him. And exactly did he mean by undesirables anyway?
“And exactly what does undesirables mean?” Xavier asked him.
“It means I want the people you’re going to deny for any greater purpose than to continue dreaming and drinking up your reality you have them believing,”
Xavier scowls.
“Are you claiming that I have them believing something that won’t come true?” Xavier ask.
The young man shifts calmly in his seat. He can hear him smirk. Q just smirks. Xavier smiles too. Too clever, idealistic, and intelligent for his own good. He thought he could just stop a status quo years in its making. What did he hope? Expect to gain from this? Xavier folded his hands on top of his desk and simply waited for his answer.
“That’s exactly what I am saying and you know that’s what I am saying,” Q tells him in a matter of fact, but calm manner, “Are you honestly telling me, you’re going to dress the boy who can turn his body into a rubber ball into a uniform and call him an X-Men?”
Xavier frowns, stares at the door, then back at Q.
“It clears to me you have been in a few political rings or at least have had the experience around them,” Xavier tells him, “So just between you and me, no I would not have the boy who can inflate his body into a ball uniformed as an X-men. Some people can dream all they like about being something they are not, but they have to face the reality that some dreams do not come true. It is fine if they dream though, it keeps others dreaming, and keeps the X-mean as a beacon of their hope-”
“-that also might not come true,” Q cut him off, “you're selling an illusion then. You use to be against the establishment. To stand for something. You’ve forgotten your own message.”
Xavier stares at the young man. He didn’t forget. But it had to be adapted, changed, it had to evolve. Sometimes progression was one created by fabricating a reality.
“Question, Q,” Xavier said harshly, “would you say in the last five years since the Avengers and X-men teamed up together to save the world from the alien invasion that nearly destroyed Earth, has their been less violence and the people have seemed far more at peace with each other? Has that not been a byproduct of our illusion?”
Q gives a breathy laugh.
“And what about the radical divisionist that still exist? Your illusion may work on the mass population of idiots, but there are people who are not buying,”
Now Xavier laughs.
“Like yourself, but they are small portion of the population,” Xavier responds.
“A small portion doesn’t mean any less of a threat Xavier, your illusion doesn’t work the moment the secret is out. That all this, the commercials, the fame, the celebrity status, cracks and people see the ugly truth. When a regime ignores a current voice of the people, and they feel ignored, frustration boils into violence. The people’s words become bloodshed. The Avengers already started a civil war once, your illusion of reality doesn’t work,”
“So you want the unwanted ones, to what rise them up? Against us? Against the establishment, bold, but futile to come in here and threaten me directly,” Xavier told him.
“I never threatened you Xavier, while your Celebrity Heroes stand next to the actors and actresses that portray them in movies, stand next to Presidents and Mayors, and only do one thing save the world from big threats. I want to deal with the work you and them have forgotten about,” Q told him.
Xavier just laughs.
“You’re too smart and clever for you own good, very well Q,” he practically spits the last two words, “If I can think of someone for your group of outcast, I’ll send them your way. What do you want to address them by?”
“I hadn’t thought of a name, until we had this exchange, Rogue X,”
Xavier smiles. Q just smirked sardonically.
Few heroes were on Rogue X side, naturally the most who had lend some assistance feeding information to Q and eventually Rogue X computer systems were already ones outside of the establishment. Spiderman one of the few allies Rogue X have of the current establishment, even Deadpool had come through a few times.
Many other forgotten heroes who weren’t so much in the limelight came to aid where they could, Cloak and Dagger had been seen passing their exchange to Q here and there. Guy Named Joe had been seeing speaking with Q as well.
Something is happening in the background. Though no one is quite certain if they are being too paranoid by a threat beginning to form in the shadows. Currently Rogue X has been given the task to either recruit desirable, unwanted mutants, or to begin to update their current data on villains. | Umbra
“Humans leave an impressive amount of stuff lying around.”
Alias: Nightquake
Age: Ageless - but if a number satisfies you my human appearance is 25, I have been on Earth for 4 years and 1 day
Gender: I do not even know where to begin with such a question, I am a Primordial Void being. I do not think my anatomical structure actually matches that of a human considering my lower half is primordial matter. But I’d like to be called a He for the sake of clarity and to make it easier for the mortal beings in Rogue X.
Serenity Notes; Say that next time. You didn’t need all of that.
Umbra scribbles underneath; Say what?
Serenity Notes; That you prefer he. You do not need to explain every time someone ask what to call you.
Umbra: Huh. That does seem much simpler.
To begin to even describe what Umbra looks like is dependent on understand what Umbra actually is. And no one really is for certain what he is. He appears to be some Primordial Voidless being from his ribcage down.
The shadows at his feet are not in fact shadows, but said to be some kind of dark matter like substance and it’s a lot more solid than what you’d consider looking at it’s wispiness. The chimeric void creature appears from the neck up to be entirely human.
A narrow featured young man, with the only significant difference is the simple fact his hair is wispy and shadowy, almost like embers on top of his head. But it is also soft like hair as well. It’s rather uncertain to determine what kind of material it is.
Much like his anatomy is an odd thing to consider. He has a ribcage, a heart, and lungs to breathe. But if anyone were to have a powerful enough X-ray to pure into his body, he has arteries that are only circulating shadows or some kind of dark matter throughout his body.
He wears often a long black robe, that almost represents priest vestments, but with odd doom and gloom accessories when not projecting his bottom half most see this as a long black coat, the end of his coat being actually his body when not manipulating that part of his body. But he doesn’t bother with shoes because there is nowhere to actually put any feet, considering his lower half is an odd black mass that is quite solid despite looking like a shadow and acting like a shadow.
As for height, his standard stance would make him at least 5’8”, which doesn’t seem very tall, but no one is for certain how tall a primordial being is suppose to be. Or if they really have a height. His weight cannot be given because honestly there is no way of measuring something like that.
His cadence is very sotto voce that is in a very quiet voice, and it is often very monotonous because Umbra doesn’t know how to express emotional inflection very well. It’s also not very pleasant to listen too despite its chilly breeziness to it because it is often toneless.
Personality Strengths
Sagely
Being a Primordial Void has its perks, he has the memory of the earliest universe. Which honestly sounds odd and hard to imagine for any human being. But his wisdom is near limitless, at least when it comes to advice giving and the history of the earth.
Being a Primordial being means that Umbra can hear the voice of the universe. He remembers things that others could not. He holds the knowledge of the gods and he holds knowledge of the most ancient human beings because his body is made of such scattered things he has a lot of scattered information.
But Umbra is sort of out dated. He can tell you a lot about the history of the world, give you sagely advice, and seems to have some kind of universal knowledge. But Umbra is limited in just ancient history. It is a bad idea to ask him about modern world things because he doesn’t have any information about those things.
Asking him what outfit you should wear, or asking him about the most modern, current Human world you should honestly know more than him about.
Idealistic
Except not preachy. Because Umbra’s memories are scattered through an expansive amount of time, he can have some rather idealistic points of view. But it counter balances Serenity’s natural realistic point of views. He’s the one who keeps the group striving for something, even if it might be idealistic, he believes that there needs to be ambassadors for change.
Maybe that’s also his idealism speaking when he believes that they can be the ambassadors for change. While he is realistic about his idealism and doesn’t get carried away, he remembers many different eras of time, and thus he tries to adopt older views in a more modern view.
Being influenced by the modern world for four years has at least allowed him to see that his idealistic nature might need to be routed into different views. Umbra is not so idealistic that he won’t listen to anyone else. Mainly because he’s not self righteous like that.
He has a willing acceptance to learn and admit when he is wrong. But he tries to keep people to strive for more than simply the status quo.
Easy-going
If Serenity is overbearing and controlling, Umbra is quite the opposite. He takes everything at his own leisure and allows others as well. He’s not necessarily lazy, he simply takes his time. He’s efficient by being careful and detail oriented.
Not much really gets to Umbra, he seems unphased by a lot of things and doesn’t seem to persuaded by emotions or to get carried with emotions. It is easy then to simply write Umbra off as slow and lazy, but he is none of those things. He’s never so easy-going he will slack off. And he’s not slow because he’s lazy.
He has a very my pace attitude. Which makes projects, Serenity thinks that should be done in several hours, take Umbra a few days because he takes time to consider everything all at once.
He lets the others do whatever they want as long as it doesn’t impact someone too much. Or impact him in anyway that actually might get him upset. If you want someone to say yes to your insane ideas, it’s probably Umbra who will let you do it. Riko, can I cut up the curtains to make a cape. Umbra, if you’re going to do that make sure the curtains still look nice afterward.
Fearless
Being an ancient primordial void means that Umbra has little fear in the face of danger. He doesn’t sweat, but he really can’t sweat anyway he doesn’t have sweat pores to actually do that. It means that he boldly throws himself into the fray without the fear of death or the fear of feeling any pain.
He does things with a reckless abandon. Which can be his double edge sword.
In the most positive circumstances it means that Umbra will not flee or show cowardice when the team needs it most. Watching him stand in the face of an unrelenting enemy makes the others fight alongside with him with the same mental toughness Umbra shows.
In the worse case circumstances, it’s either an enemy Umbra will someday be unable to face, and get himself actually hurt. Or he may be leading the team astray with his idealist, fearless, recklessness because he forgets they do not have his fortitude.
Personality Flaws
NonHuman Ideals
Being what he is Umbra has a difficult time expressing certain things to people because not all of his concepts are comprehendible as something human. He is wholeheartedly still something in between humanity, and all of his concepts and ideas are often vaguely abstract concepts of pataphysics. In which he conjures imaginative solutions to complicated problems because he has no concept of a true morality.
This doesn’t make him morally ambiguous. He has morals, but they are constructs of a scattered abstract memory. He is more morally abstract. How he defines good, is at its purest imaginative concept of what good is. He doesn’t define it by any other values.
Human tact on needless values to their morals. Good is selfless, sacrifices for others, good is altruistic. For Umbra Good is simply the abstract feeling of Good. What feels good is good, there needs to be no other values. Bad is selfish, harms the innocent. Bad is bad because it feels bad. Why try to define it further than that?
Because of that Umbra has some very simple, but complex abstract code of ethics.
Further I’d like to add, that the ideals or ideas that Umbra thinks are not due to some kind of faith or belief. As he lacks that kind of concept, it’s why he is so willing to hear out what others have to say. Instead most of the abstract ideal concepts that come to his mind is something he was simply born with. “Born” with. They are the imprint of a millennia of ideas that has spanned across the universe as ideas, beliefs, and concepts long before others. He has a primitive, older structure of thought.
Inability to Emote
Umbra doesn’t emote. He lacks the concept to emote. Or humanize. He can, but it’s often a falsehood because he can only imitate behaviors he sees others express. But he doesn’t necessarily feel the way a human feels.
Umbra emotes, just not in the way a human could emote. While technically he doesn’t verbally emote or show displays of emotions, he is an empathetic being. He can Sense and Share information. But he cannot necessarily feel them.
This makes it difficult for the others, despite not entirely being human themselves, but with human conditions connect to Umbra. Because Umbra is beyond even their understanding of humanity. It’s hard to connect with the thing that doesn’t express or humanize in the same way as you.
Nonexistent Reality
In all tense and purposes Umbra does and does not exist in this reality. Being from somewhere, but nowhere means that he is exist and doesn’t exist in this reality. Because of this Umbra is difficult to follow all the expected rules of him. Mainly because the way his mind thinks means he either doesn’t catch on the rules he is suppose to follow or feels above having to listen to them because he feels they have no value in his mind’s reality.
Into the Fray
Beyond all the complications of what his existence is and the way he thinks, Umbra has no sense of danger. Actually he sort of sometimes craves it. But danger in its purest form. He’s not an adrenaline junkie because he doesn’t produce adrenaline.
He’s often the one to take the most risk and jump into the fray recklessly. He enjoys the excitement in the purest form of what that means to him.
Warped Reality
More worrisome, while Umbra may not entirely exist in our reality, but may exist in our reality it does tend to affect him. While he has shown no signs of insanity, it does take a toll on Umbra mentally to be shaped and influenced by multiple realities at once.
It makes his mind a little skewed times. At its best, he’s just oblivious, half the reason he lets people do things they shouldn’t around him. Sometimes he gets a little mental confusion or forgets rather easily what he was doing. Maybe one of the reasons for a number of oddities in his behavior because of how clueless and air headed he can be.
At its worse he can be grouchy, have a violent temper, and be aggressive. And it’s most worrisome, though no one has seen him at this point, it’s maddening and hard to control his purest desires of violence and aggressive behavior.
Primordial Void Child
To even begin to understand Umbra’s powers you must understand the history of the Primordials. The Primordials that live alongside Earth’s dimension, whether or not you can enter the Void, are often the keyholders of concepts or entities. In an essence they are the reasons why concepts like Mercy, Justice, Good, Evil, Compassion, Charity, etc. exist in the first place.
And some scientist theorize that somewhere there must be a Primordial as to why Mutants even exist or even the concept of such an entity. Though that’s all an untested theory and no one can touch or enter the Void because they would be completely strip of their reality or existence in the world because the Void is made of some kind of scattered time, scattered matter. It is the pieces left of Humanity and Earth’s creation. Which is how a Primordial constructs itself through the random leftover parts of things.
How a Primordial being Ascends into a God Like state is a complicated and honestly slow process that has not been witnessed until now. Normally there is One Primordial being that is the sole embodiment of a concept or entity.
When this concept changes or this concept dies. The Primordial “dies”. But reality is the Primordial is being reshaped to take on the new concept of the idea that died because it is changing. They call a Primordial being reborn a Void Child. In a Celestial sense Umbra is still in a state of infancy, even if he doesn’t look like an infant.
In a sense Primordial’s are dual reality beings. Partly influenced by a Celestial calling. They can hear the Murmurs. The Murmurs are the voice or maybe the feeling of the universe. It is almost like a small whisper or really a sense of something that guides them to a reason. But they are also influenced by our reality somewhat. In a way they actually influence our reality, but we define in what way they do so.
With that explanation out of the way, we can delve into what it means to be a Void Child for Umbra and what that allows him to do.
Primordial Physiology
A Primordial without a concept or without an entity are often black and shapeless. As Umbra is now. They take on the shapes of the things that surround them. People. The darkness they knew from before they existed. They have no concept of a true self, and don’t remember who they were before this. They simply hear the Murmurs and know their purpose.
In the shortest terms possible a Primordial main physiology is Embodiment. It will eventually take on the shape of the concept or entity that it will some day Ascend to. A Primordial’s main existence is to Ascend after it Embodies its main concept. Told to it or maybe felt by it upon sheer existence.
Umbra’s is Justice. This is the reason he can use the powers he uses because his main Embodiment and someday his Ascension will be through some new Concept of Justice he is learning from those around him. It is why Umbra is not preachy about his ideals, because he understands fundamentally he still needs to learn. While he will someday influence the way our reality and beliefs work by his mere existence, the people around him shape what that Embodiment will look like in the near future. Though no one has to worry about Umbra’s ascension because ascension takes hundreds if not thousands of years to ascend.
It is often a Primordial’s existence that influence some conceptual story of mythology. Even if the Gods are given the credit, the stories and concepts would not have been told if not for the Primordial’s existence and assistance in the human plane as Void Children.
Mendacity Sensing
Because Umbra doesn’t feel, but sense the world it is very hard for him to not understand other people’s intentions. In layman’s terms, it simply means that he can sense when someone is lying to him or being untruthful. He doesn’t know what they are lying about, but he can sense their lies. This is very useful in discussions when working with Howard/Meat.
He cannot sense the reason behind the lie, and it is difficult for him to determine someone’s truthfulness if their mind is altered. Either through psychic screening despite Umbra’s abilities not being psychic based or through something mind altering like being drugged or brainwashed or mind controlled.
Codes of Justice
Umbra has a primitive form of law creation, he can construct laws to bend others to the boundaries of the rule. When the rules have been set the victim has no chance of escaping them unless they abide by the rules. However, he can only define laws of his embodiment and those are laws of Justice. Furthermore, the conditions of these abilities must be fairly specific or there is a way for the victim to find easy work arounds them.
Beyond that, his Codes of Justice are limited to a small radius surrounding him about a 10 ft circumference surrounding him inside a small force field created by Umbra’s Embodiment aura. Once an opponent steps into the limited range, Umbra is free to set his own rules on his opponents. Rules such as; if the fight is unfair you must surrender. This is particularly handy when they have one opponent and there are a few Rogue X members working together.
Primordial Form
Umbra is still in all tense and purposes a Primordial. Sure one that is still understanding the world, and one that has not ascended yet. But there are special occasions when a Void Child transforms into their true Primordial form. The Form they may take during Ascension.
Umbra cannot transform willingly in his Primordial Form though. As he has not Ascended and there is no way for him to access this ability alone. However, there are special occasions when Umbra does transform into his Primordial Form. Often these are of greater Celestial Events, such as a Lunar or Solar Eclipse. Or other greater Celestial Events that may spark life into Umbra. -
In this form he has the ability to create black holes from his body, sucking anything into his body, and crushing them from existence like they are a tin can. But he also has the ability to create the opposite a white hole, while a black hole sucks things in, a white hole spits things out. He can access whichever reality he would like to do so.
No other time does he have this ability. And it is probably when he is the most vulnerable. When sucking something inside of him, it scatters his body and when the black hole is closed he spends a few slow minutes reforming his primordial shape.
Materialized Guardians
Because Primordial beings have some influence over creation, Umbra has the ability to manipulate Guardians from his lower half of his body. These Guardians fight for him, or beside him really and are useful for a variety of attacks.
At current Umbra can only shape two beings from his body. And because it takes up Umbra’s body, the more he materializes a guardian, the less of him there actually is to maneuver around. Because of this he can only truly summon one guardian at a time. But one guardian is better than none.
The Cannon
So named because of it’s shape. Is like a puppy dog, but a laser for a mouth in Umbra’s words. The Cannon can release a laser beam. Or real a conceptual laser beam, for all intensive purposes it behaves like a laser beam, and looks like a laser beam. But it is not a real laser.
After being shot by the laser witnesses will see that the opponent has not actually been shot by the laser. Well they have been that’s why they are on the floor screaming in pain, and yelling their skin burns. But they have no marks, or haven’t been melted or burnt to a crisp. As it is the concept of a laser, not a real laser.
Slither
So named because of the way it moves. Umbra was not very creative when designing these names. The slither flies around the battlefield, and slashes at its opponents. But just like the laser and the conceptual beam, these are conceptual slashes. In the opponent's mind they have been slashed and see blood from their wounds.
Everybody else is watching them like a mad man trying to desperately to stop bleeding not actually there. Slither does have one more capability which is wrapping its tail around an opponent to immobilize them.
Umbra despite what he likes to think is not impervious to damage either. When he materializes his guardians, his body is no longer as physical and he is weak to sound and other vibrations. Beyond the fact that he is weak against those with gravitational abilities. And weak against extreme force pressure of any sort. He is also affected by light matter.
He doesn’t seem to do well with high heat either. And isn’t fairly physically strong himself. His human half still feels slight pain, though dulled since he’s a shadow vein bloodstream monster. And he can be banished to a different reality like anyone else can.
He can also still be mind controlled. And he has no defense against psychic attacks.
Major Skills
Omnilingistic
Being the Celestial being that he is and some day with the goal in mind he represents the concept of Justice for all, knows every language on Earth. He can read, write, and speak these languages whenever he needs to do so.
Remembering Details
An elephant never forgets, and a Primordial being definitely doesn’t forget. He has the expansive knowledge of the Universe, but he holds onto abstract concepts and their details very well. With this in mind Umbra is very good at remembering details. He can tell when the can he left behind has been placed just an inch elsewhere, he can tell when something isn’t quite right about the details of a room, and is fairly good at putting those things together to create a more detailed picture.
Tracking
Because of his skill in remembering details, he has learned to utilize it for different functions as well. You want someone to find or you need to find a secret book that can open a backroom to a secreter room, then Umbra will most likely be able to find it.
Also since he senses people, he can easily figure out a signature, if he has gotten a clear idea of what they feel like to him. No stone is left unturned for Umbra. Once he has been sent out to track someone or find something his attention to detail has him thoroughly scour the area for clues.
He can tell the freshness of tracks. When someone’s unique signature has been there last. The dust left by the other books versus the one that has been used the most often. And so and so forth.
Minor Skills
Voice Impressions
Well only in a technical sense. Umbra can imitate the voices of people he has heard through his body. It’s more like an echo or playing back a recording than a traditional voice impression. But still very useful, when he either needs Serenity’s scolding voice, but lacks one himself.
It’s also useful in other ways as well. If you need to get past a password that requires voice activation, Umbra’s impression or really recording is an exact match to the other individual so it’s hard to tell it’s just some strange sound from the shadowy mass of a Primordial Void Child.
Also entertaining to do actor impressions.
Flower Arranging
He finds it relaxing. Or whatever the feeling of relaxing is for himself. He likes the bright colors. And he senses it makes him feel a pure form of happiness. He will not accept anyone changing around his flower arrangements and he will notice if there has been a change.
He seems rather protective over the amount of work it takes for him to arrange each flower arrangement. If anyone ever visits his little pocket dimension where he spends most of his time, you will see that is a garden of different flowers. He likes the shapes as well.
Interior Design
Who do you think designed the front entrance of the apartment? Or the lounging room? It certainly wasn’t Serenity. He used his attention to detail to choose the colors and paint the walls. He’s the one who aligned everything in an order he found acceptable.
Equipment and Weapons: None. Where would they go anyway? If I need anything I'll put it in Serenity's bag.
History:
I wish upon a star, with all my heart to bring my papa back to me.
Existence is a fickle thing. To explain would be impossible. Because a thousand stars do not know the concept of existence. He isn’t even sure if he really existed when he came to this world. Or if he exist now. He is still a child. He knows this. He is still an infant in the eyes of the stars. But is existence forming memories? Or bonds? He’s not so certain of either answer to the question. He first came to this world in a beautiful garden. Someone was speaking. Making a wish. A little girl. Emily.
She gasp.
“Are you a monster?” she ask the strange black mass that fell from the sky, that she had thought was simply a falling star.
“No I do not think I am,”
“I can hear you, but you have no mouth,” in her eyes all she saw was a quivering mass of shadows. She reached out to touch it. It was warm and comforting to the touch, which surprised her. It was alive. But it was not.
“Do I need one?”
“I don’t think so, what are you if not a monster?”
“A star,”
“Stars don’t talk,”
“I came from there. Somewhere. I am not sure where I came from. But I am definitely a star being,”
“Say star, can you grant my wish?”
“I do not have the power to grant wishes. But I sense this disappoints you in some sense, what did you want to wish?”
“My mommy and daddy, are gone. Can you bring them back? So I don’t have to live with my aunt,”
“I do not have the power of resurrection, I am sorry.”
She watches the shadow begin to build a structure, up and up. Till he is a tall person wearing a black robe. He is very handsome with white, wispy hair, almost like a cloud the way it moved, but it was also hair like. His eyes were almond shaped and very piercing.
“Did I do this right?” he asked looking at his people shape.
“I think so,” Emily told him, “How did you do that?”
“A memory of encouragement,”
Emily stared at him, she didn’t quite understand. Neither did he. A child in this universe. A child on this Earth.
It didn’t last long. He wish he could tell fanciful stories of spending more time with Emily. They had one night together. Her room was soft colors, she had created herself guardians out of her toys. She was seeking comfort. He sensed this. He wanted to give it to her. Maybe not want, but sensed he should. He spent the night with her. Watched over her. She fancied him some kind of guardian. But he was not her guardian.
Her aunt seemed sad. Her husband seemed depressed. There was an air of grief in this home. There was not anything he could. Even being a Void Child, he could only hear the Murmurs and knew there was a Primordial Concept of Grief somewhere out there. He then perhaps hoped that their grief would dissipate.
He wondered for a while. Being called to different people. And sensing them when they needed him. He felt a need perhaps to help them in some way. But, what was he meant to aid humanity with? Grief was not his concept. Hope was not his concept. Comfort was not his concept. He was not an entity, he was a thing between human and primordial.
He was a child who knew nothing. It was a maddening reality, that he could not have a concept. He searched for two years to find a concept. To define a concept. But he knew not of the steps to find this concept or its Ascension.
Until the murmurs directed him to someone who was like him. Someone in between. They had burning Justice.
“Who are you?” he asked.
They laugh.
“I could ask you, the same question, who the strange half shadow, half man is”
“I am a Void Child,”
“I am an in betweener,”
“What is your name?”
“What is yours?”
“I have none,”
“Well, then we’re alike in more ways than one I suppose,”
“You might have my Concept,”
“Oh? That’s a little odd. Did I take your luggage at the airport?”
“No, I am a Void Child, I came into existence 2 years and 3 months ago, I must find my Concept so I may ascend some day,”
He smiles.
“Want to help while finding that concept?”
“With?”
“A project of mine,”
“Hmm, what is this project?”
“I am calling them Rogue X, we’re superheroes, but the true kind, well they’re superheroes, I am just the money bank,”
“And while I help this Rogue X, I find my Concept,”
“Quick at least. That’s the idea,”
“I find this agreement acceptable,”
He never knew though at that time, that he would find his Concept working with Rogue X. The Murmurs reinforced this. They told him that this was his concept.
Other Information:
Umbra doesn't have a room in the apartment. Instead he spends most of his time in a pocket dimension in his "own shadow" to escape the way reality affects him sometimes and the way he affects reality around him. |
Subsets and Splits
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