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5,600 | 153 | 62 | 1,113 | 205 | Junks was smiling for some strange reason. His eyes still burned horribly but a realization hit him
If I really am in hell. I just got away with all that. He realized his ring was gone and swore. Then he noticed something else: The cripple was here. So was the kid he stabbed.
Did he really get off? | It'll always be open. Just hope this progresses some in a month.
Name your dog Askim. You'll thank me later. |
5,601 | 153 | 63 | 1,855 | 764 | Still holding the girl. She seemed to be on the verge of having a breakdown, it was cold to admit but they needed all the help they could get, and she needed help.
Looking over she saw that Junks still alive. Of all the people who died he had somehow made it here nigh unscathed. Devil looks after his own it seems. The ring was gripped tightly in her hand, having exploited the pepper spray shock. Victoria might have been a cripple, but her mind was not. Quick thinking and problem solving was a skill illness had not robbed her of.
Giving him a very old british middle finger salute. It was well earned, was it this place. A strange anger... She wanted to hurt him... More than her anger should had been..
"seems you returned home junks." | Name:
Marilania (Romus), Olympus (double barreled, somewhat a name she hides)
Alliases:
Mali, Marlin,
Age:18 ,
in her final year.
Powers/Abilities
(These will be introduced later) (will be done later)
Height:
5’5
Appearance:
fairly Athletic, long straight Blonde and with a penchant for skirts she is in good shape thanks professional sports, though is working back to her peak 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 hide, unless forced to exposé it in the pool or other scenarios. As a result never wears tops that expose it.
Looks much like her mother but has eyes nearly identical to her father in a fairly cold grey.
Has distinct English accent, despite having moved about still quite strong.
Often wears skirts and other outfits that do exploit her athletic figure, and similar but teamed with more chunky military style boots, and although hated by some of the more animal rights groups a fur coat that she always claims is fake in the winter.
Personality:
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.
Very close to her sister and family, but less with others outside a close circle of people.
Moving around alot made her more closed off and channelled her energy and frustrations into sports, her younger years she made very few long term friends as it hurt too much to keep moving on.
History:
First born to Vesarian she was left while her mother was pregnant and raised by Maria for much of her life before heading over to live with her father in term time as the school was better than the local one. Also so she could spend some time with her half sister.
Always pegged as the athlete since she was young she was on the local track team, similar to her sister but a injury changed her direction she would excel. Advised that during in recover she would find it easier on her leg Marilania soon found her skills where in the pool and made the team after a few months training.
Fast forward a few years she managed to win several championships for the school to a country level and attracted eyes of others who were interested in the young woman’s potential.
Her scar was picked up in a mugging gone wrong, a rather sour reminder as it meant she missed one of the largest events, one that as it would turn out was attended by a national scout. Her luck was stuck in a hospital with bandages and watching the video recorded by her team mates.
Academically she is smart, but sucks at languages and favours maths and sciences, wanting to look to a career in flight or aircraft if she can having fallen for it during a flight her mother got for her birthday in a classic vintage fighter aircraft.
Due to her mother moving around alot, she is fairly scared of making too many close friends, she only moved again and hurt more every time and actively misses out on team social events at times.
Anything else?/Trivial facts.
Won multiple awards In the pool and school champion on more that one occasion.
Learning to drive still and already managed to dent her father’s company car which put her in trouble for a few months.
Sisters close now but took a while for that to happen. still slightly resentful of her father. |
5,602 | 153 | 64 | 1,268 | 220 | Nemo was a fucking mess. She gladly accepted Victoria's hug, trying to even out her breaths and furiously wiping at her eyes. She was feeling a lot of things: confused, sad, terrified, but mostly frustrated. Even though she logically knew that anyone would break down and cry in a situation like this, she was angry at herself for reacting the way she did. Especially in front of other people. She cursed under her breath and tugged at her hair, trying hard to pull herself together.
She heard Victoria say something, but it just sounded fuzzy. She couldn't focus on anything around her. | Birth Name: Jarod Zachary Veillon
Alliases: Nemo (she’s transgender and this is her chosen name)
Age: 15
Powers/Abilities TBA
Height: 5’3”
Appearance: Nemo often gets picked on for looking and sounding “too feminine for a boy.” If she revealed that she was actually a girl, though, she would probably just get even more shit. She’s short and thin, with barely any body fat and wide hips. Her face is round and youthful, pale with some freckles. Her black hair is short and usually messy. Her typical outfit consists of a loose-fitting t-shirt, jeans (usually ripped), a jacket about two sizes too big, the same pair of sneakers, and a hat, usually either a beanie or a baseball cap. The only major variation in her attire is the specific t-shirt she’s wearing, often with band logos, slogans, or movie references. It’s hard to tell Nemo’s gender by looking at her; she falls in the exact middle of the scale between masculine and feminine.
Personality: Nemo is a pretty docile person. She’s quiet and laid-back most of the time, preferring to stay out of the spotlight. She won’t initiate a conversation herself, but if someone comes up to her, she’ll be open and friendly. She values privacy, and rarely divulges information about herself outside of interests, hobbies, or favorite bands. You have to be really, really close to her for her to tell you that she’s trans, because she doesn’t want anyone to know just yet. She keeps a lot of secrets, but she is a very genuine person.
If Nemo is a space where she’s comfortable, with people she trusts, her quietness pretty much goes away. She’ll crack jokes, talk excitedly about stuff she likes, and laugh embarrassingly loud. Pretty much, if her laughter starts to sound like hysterical screaming, you know you’ve told a really good joke.
She’s not always so chill, though. She’s under a lot of stress from school, her peers, and gender dysphoria, and sometimes it gets to be too much. When she’s feeling overwhelmed, Nemo gets tense, irritable, and even more defensive than usual. She tends to ignore the onset of these feelings, leading to them growing out of proportion. In the past, this stress has lead to plenty of breakdowns in the past. The only cure for her in this situation is some time for relaxation and a good cry (which is bad, because she hates crying).
History: Nemo’s home life is a closely-kept secret. All most people know is that she lives in a small one-story house in a poor area with her single mother (who rarely ever shows her face around the school). She’s had a rather unremarkable past as a student, mostly known for being “girly” and a few incidents where she cried in class. For years, she has been the person that everyone knows of, but no one actually knows.
Anything else?/Trivial facts.
She is Asexual and romantically attracted to women.
She’s an unapologetic emo kid; but the self-aware kind that knows that she’s emo trash and has a sense of humor about it.
Ask her about music; she’ll give you about a million obscure band recommendations.
Her chosen name was not inspired by Finding Nemo, and she will vehemently assert this fact until the day she dies. |
5,603 | 153 | 65 | 1,855 | 764 | Victoria smiles weakly as she calmed down a bit and her own worries where almost overwhelming her but kept it together for thr younger girls sake and wiped her tears away slightly and quite abit of make up with it though the tears where hardly stopped.
"that's it. We all had a huge shock."
She tried to sound calm but a sad note was obvious and her eyes where useless as hiding her turmoil. Sadness and own shock at events.
Keeping a arm round Nemo, she nudged a bit of hair out her face with very pale and slender hand. Smaller than the girl by a good few itches the angle was not the easiest.
"I got ya"
It did not sound totally convincing, but she had to help the girl, despite her own icey temperament at times, she felt she could not leave her to break down alone.
Glancing round sadly she saw some others who had made it, and thr bodies. Always the bodes. Emily. Well her reputation was coming in handy. Junks. Hell was where he deserved. She could not hide she was taking it badly, but the girl with the strange name was far worse. | Name:
Marilania (Romus), Olympus (double barreled, somewhat a name she hides)
Alliases:
Mali, Marlin,
Age:18 ,
in her final year.
Powers/Abilities
(These will be introduced later) (will be done later)
Height:
5’5
Appearance:
fairly Athletic, long straight Blonde and with a penchant for skirts she is in good shape thanks professional sports, though is working back to her peak 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 hide, unless forced to exposé it in the pool or other scenarios. As a result never wears tops that expose it.
Looks much like her mother but has eyes nearly identical to her father in a fairly cold grey.
Has distinct English accent, despite having moved about still quite strong.
Often wears skirts and other outfits that do exploit her athletic figure, and similar but teamed with more chunky military style boots, and although hated by some of the more animal rights groups a fur coat that she always claims is fake in the winter.
Personality:
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.
Very close to her sister and family, but less with others outside a close circle of people.
Moving around alot made her more closed off and channelled her energy and frustrations into sports, her younger years she made very few long term friends as it hurt too much to keep moving on.
History:
First born to Vesarian she was left while her mother was pregnant and raised by Maria for much of her life before heading over to live with her father in term time as the school was better than the local one. Also so she could spend some time with her half sister.
Always pegged as the athlete since she was young she was on the local track team, similar to her sister but a injury changed her direction she would excel. Advised that during in recover she would find it easier on her leg Marilania soon found her skills where in the pool and made the team after a few months training.
Fast forward a few years she managed to win several championships for the school to a country level and attracted eyes of others who were interested in the young woman’s potential.
Her scar was picked up in a mugging gone wrong, a rather sour reminder as it meant she missed one of the largest events, one that as it would turn out was attended by a national scout. Her luck was stuck in a hospital with bandages and watching the video recorded by her team mates.
Academically she is smart, but sucks at languages and favours maths and sciences, wanting to look to a career in flight or aircraft if she can having fallen for it during a flight her mother got for her birthday in a classic vintage fighter aircraft.
Due to her mother moving around alot, she is fairly scared of making too many close friends, she only moved again and hurt more every time and actively misses out on team social events at times.
Anything else?/Trivial facts.
Won multiple awards In the pool and school champion on more that one occasion.
Learning to drive still and already managed to dent her father’s company car which put her in trouble for a few months.
Sisters close now but took a while for that to happen. still slightly resentful of her father. |
5,604 | 153 | 66 | 1,113 | 205 | Junks noticed the old salute and smiled, He figured while he was her he'd best exploit it.
Starting from the top of his pile he went through everything on those bodies
Watches, Cell phones, Money. Hell, he even took some less crispy clothes and a backpack. By the time he was done he'd accumulated a rather large sum of cash, 10 watches, and at least 20 cell phones. Junks hear lost his ring but it seemed he'd still lucked out.
Maybe Hell isn't that bad. | It'll always be open. Just hope this progresses some in a month.
Name your dog Askim. You'll thank me later. |
5,605 | 153 | 67 | 1,659 | 669 | Hearing people moving about below Greggory, still pressing the hot blade against himself, raised his free hand, shouting out in response to how shocking everything was, "You can bloody say that again!"
Pulling the blade away, it stuck slightly to his skin, and Greggory winced again as he pulled/ripped it away from his fragile flesh. Staring at the knife Greggory fiddled with it until he figured out how to both retract and extend the blade, then pocketed the knife. It was left inside him, and with the person who put it there busy looting the fallen Greggory figured that made it his. Tying his blood coated shirt around his waist to hide the wound Greggory pulled himself up and half ran half stumbled down the hillock of corpses.
"So... Anyone have any idea what just happened?" Greggory asked optimistically. | Name: Greggory Arthur Wick
Alliases: Gregg
Age: 17
Powers/Abilities As these will be introduced later, I see no reason to set anything in stone until later.
Height: 5'11"
Appearance: Thin, though not overly so, with vaguely angular features. Grey blue eyes hide behind a pair of glasses while white, almost pasty skin hides under more often than not a pair of jeans and a simple tea shirt bearing a design linked to some videogame or show or some such other. Upon his chins sprouts the beginnings of a beard, and peach fuzz decorates his lips, the start of what could one day be a fine beard and mustache. His hair is a dull brown, cut short and laying to the side and oft weighed down by grease.
Personality: Witty, kind and oft quite funny, though prone to sarcasm. Greggory is plagued by social anxiety and constant self doubt. Quick to help anyone in need, even at his own detriment. Greggory doesn't make much in the way of plans. He has no long term goals, nor any idea how he'd go about them even if he possessed such things. Fate would have it luckily, that Greggory won't have to be thinking over hard on his future career what with the nonsense soon to drown his life.
History: Greggory lived a less than simple life. His early years were rough, between troubles with school, issues at home and frequent moving it made things difficult to say the least. Recently moved in Greggory is simply trying to get through high school, even if everything about it is hell to him.
Anything else?/Trivial facts: When it comes to matters that matter to him, Greggory has a damn perfect memory. He's also bad at remembering names. Oh, and he really likes videogames and junk. |
5,606 | 153 | 68 | 525 | 491 | Michael finishes his chapter and closes his book with a thin whap of paper coming together. Standing up, he starts walking toward the others. "Welp, all I know right now is this is a way more eventful lunch period than I had planned. My compliments to the school event coordinators. Now, who has a guess as to the way out?" He looks around the delightful hellscape to see what there is to see. | Name: Michael Forester
Alliases: Mike, and also his gaming username Cruallassar.
Age: 15
Powers/Abilities: Having no context, I will provide three possibilities individually developable depending on the story arc. Firstly would be shadow powers, including shadow manipulation, dematerialization, transportation and camouflage, among others. Second would be author powers, able to write additions to reality...such as a gun or magic object. Thirdly might be the Force. These are three power probabilities that have distinct meaning with regard to this character.
Height: 5 feet, ten inches.
Appearance: Almost-black hair, brown if you look at it in the right light and are able to see the lighter coloration. Brown eyes are slightly inset on a smooth, yet thin and angular face with a narrow chin. He tends to wear a casual smirk, and has an otherwise narrow build.
Attire-wise, he can nearly always be found wearing black jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt, even in summer 100 degree weather. He has a watch on his right wrist, and between classes, he has a black backpack that looks like he stores his entire locker's worth of books in it. He also wears a black pouch on his belt with an array of pens and pencils.
Personality: Intelligent, reserved, a ready wit and a lack of respect and/or knowledge for popular society are all attributes that would easily describe Michael. His speech patterns resemble Ultron and he can converse intelligently with anyone and on anything he deems intelligent, and scathingly with anyone on anything he deems not. Casually superior is what he would categorize himself as if asked, but it is easy to tell when he decides to take something...or someone...seriously. He makes it show. His compliments are to be treasured, his friendship is difficult to gain and harder still to lose, and while he would absolutely not take a bullet for his friends...he would certainly summon the fires of hell to avenge them, if needed to. (Metaphorically speaking of course...he's more into sentient computer programs, battlesuits, shadow/elven magic, and safer forms of fire. He's not self-destructive, after all.) He is someone who can be trusted by anyone but his enemies, feared by those, consulted on matters of intelligence, and ignored when it comes to social events and pop culture. Because in that, he will be standing quietly in the darkest corner he can find.
History: Michael is the oldest in a family of 6, and was homeschooled his whole life until this point. It was decided that his mom's attention was better served teaching his siblings, and he would benefit more from an actual highschool, since he was teaching himself most of his subjects...or simply ignoring them...at that point. So, at the age of 15, (Since he was plenty smart enough and because his birthday was just before the school year started so he'd be either the youngest or the oldest Freshman in the school...) our story begins.
Anything else?/Trivial facts.
One can list off popular singers, bands, and actors for an hour and he isn't likely to be familiar with more than ten of them.
He knows nearly everything about Star Wars...well, compared to anyone around him anyway.
He has started writing a book twice, failed each time, but has more established world built for each one separately than many existing movies, shows, or novels.
If you see him packing his bags, class will end in about 20 seconds. If you watch his hand thereafter, you will see him count down the last three of them. His watch is synchronized with the school clock, and he prides himself on being the first to class and the first to leave.
He walks faster than some people jog. |
5,607 | 153 | 69 | 1,113 | 205 | Junks had left his pile looking like a new man. He wore slightly less crispy clothes: A hoodie, a flat billed hat stating something burnt out and some boots he found a size too big. He was cool with the boots becauer he had emote so many like that. He looked like slightly miss matched trash. He was content with this Hell until a giant winged creature flew overhead, Darkening the scene, it screetched but left the group alone.
He figured this was his time to run.
"It was nice knowing you guys!" with that and a wave he started running. | It'll always be open. Just hope this progresses some in a month.
Name your dog Askim. You'll thank me later. |
5,608 | 153 | 70 | 1,659 | 669 | Greggory was patting himself down, ensuring that aside from the stab wound that he was alright. He was going to give some sarcastic remark regarding the way out before a dark shadow passed overhead, giving Greggory pause. Then the bastard that had stabbed Greggory moments earlier shouted and ran off. Greggory raised his hand and began to mumble a warning about sticking as a group but already the git was a ways off.
Crossing his arms Greggory states, "Well, we could go that way, maybe there's an elevator or something. He seems certain enough about it." While nodding towards the thief as he grows farther and farther away. "Though, for the sake of avoiding burning exhaustion perhaps we should walk rather than run." Taking a deep breath of the stifling air Greggory continues, "That said, methinks introductions are in order, at least for my sake. I'm Greggory, I'm sorry in advance for forgetting your names." | Name: Greggory Arthur Wick
Alliases: Gregg
Age: 17
Powers/Abilities As these will be introduced later, I see no reason to set anything in stone until later.
Height: 5'11"
Appearance: Thin, though not overly so, with vaguely angular features. Grey blue eyes hide behind a pair of glasses while white, almost pasty skin hides under more often than not a pair of jeans and a simple tea shirt bearing a design linked to some videogame or show or some such other. Upon his chins sprouts the beginnings of a beard, and peach fuzz decorates his lips, the start of what could one day be a fine beard and mustache. His hair is a dull brown, cut short and laying to the side and oft weighed down by grease.
Personality: Witty, kind and oft quite funny, though prone to sarcasm. Greggory is plagued by social anxiety and constant self doubt. Quick to help anyone in need, even at his own detriment. Greggory doesn't make much in the way of plans. He has no long term goals, nor any idea how he'd go about them even if he possessed such things. Fate would have it luckily, that Greggory won't have to be thinking over hard on his future career what with the nonsense soon to drown his life.
History: Greggory lived a less than simple life. His early years were rough, between troubles with school, issues at home and frequent moving it made things difficult to say the least. Recently moved in Greggory is simply trying to get through high school, even if everything about it is hell to him.
Anything else?/Trivial facts: When it comes to matters that matter to him, Greggory has a damn perfect memory. He's also bad at remembering names. Oh, and he really likes videogames and junk. |
5,609 | 153 | 71 | 1,855 | 764 | Victoria struggled to mask her disgust as she grabbed a less bloody back pack, throwing out the books and forcing her self to grab some useful things from thr mass. A knife, can of pepper spray, some water and other bits that might come in handy. Finding a tablet computer and a clean hoody and such she loaded them into the bag, it fed disgusting raiding the dead but she had no choice.
Looking over to Nemo and michael she saw both where in a bad way but leaving them, they needed to stick together. Turning to Nemo first and moving thr last hair out her eyes with a gentle hand. Small, very pale with a red mark from the attack in lunch hall. Placing a hand on her shoulder for emphasis.
"we need to get out of here.. I'm much as mess as you! ... We lingered too long!"
Looking at Michael, she did not know him but he seemed hurt, that was it he was stabbed by the hobo kid.
"hey. Names Victoria Romus. And we need to get away from here!. I'm not fastest.. And that things coming closer.
Nodding over to Emily's, she was sure she would understand fully, she was a mess, blood stained, make up half wiped, stained by tears but somthing forced her to carry on and try and get out of this place.
"best chance if we stick together. And I can,t do it alone."
Making her way to cover. She saw a way leading to wherever it lead, but it seemed less exposed than the spot they where in she made her slower pace away toward the more enclosed area where less exposed.
Victoria knew junks had every advantage, she had very few, but she had to try and get somewhere else. That monster above did not bode well for lingering. | Name:
Marilania (Romus), Olympus (double barreled, somewhat a name she hides)
Alliases:
Mali, Marlin,
Age:18 ,
in her final year.
Powers/Abilities
(These will be introduced later) (will be done later)
Height:
5’5
Appearance:
fairly Athletic, long straight Blonde and with a penchant for skirts she is in good shape thanks professional sports, though is working back to her peak 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 hide, unless forced to exposé it in the pool or other scenarios. As a result never wears tops that expose it.
Looks much like her mother but has eyes nearly identical to her father in a fairly cold grey.
Has distinct English accent, despite having moved about still quite strong.
Often wears skirts and other outfits that do exploit her athletic figure, and similar but teamed with more chunky military style boots, and although hated by some of the more animal rights groups a fur coat that she always claims is fake in the winter.
Personality:
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.
Very close to her sister and family, but less with others outside a close circle of people.
Moving around alot made her more closed off and channelled her energy and frustrations into sports, her younger years she made very few long term friends as it hurt too much to keep moving on.
History:
First born to Vesarian she was left while her mother was pregnant and raised by Maria for much of her life before heading over to live with her father in term time as the school was better than the local one. Also so she could spend some time with her half sister.
Always pegged as the athlete since she was young she was on the local track team, similar to her sister but a injury changed her direction she would excel. Advised that during in recover she would find it easier on her leg Marilania soon found her skills where in the pool and made the team after a few months training.
Fast forward a few years she managed to win several championships for the school to a country level and attracted eyes of others who were interested in the young woman’s potential.
Her scar was picked up in a mugging gone wrong, a rather sour reminder as it meant she missed one of the largest events, one that as it would turn out was attended by a national scout. Her luck was stuck in a hospital with bandages and watching the video recorded by her team mates.
Academically she is smart, but sucks at languages and favours maths and sciences, wanting to look to a career in flight or aircraft if she can having fallen for it during a flight her mother got for her birthday in a classic vintage fighter aircraft.
Due to her mother moving around alot, she is fairly scared of making too many close friends, she only moved again and hurt more every time and actively misses out on team social events at times.
Anything else?/Trivial facts.
Won multiple awards In the pool and school champion on more that one occasion.
Learning to drive still and already managed to dent her father’s company car which put her in trouble for a few months.
Sisters close now but took a while for that to happen. still slightly resentful of her father. |
5,610 | 153 | 72 | 1,268 | 220 | Finally feeling her heartbeat slow and her breath even out, Nemo looked up at Victoria and smiled, thanking her silently for the support. She scrubbed a hand over her face, muttering, "I'm okay. I'm okay," mostly to convince herself.
She stood, looking up at the huge beast casting a shadow over the group. She dug around in her backpack for her, thankfully intact, iPod. It was a strange thing to need in this situation, but music always made Nemo feel better.
When introductions started going around, she made a decision.
"My name's Nemo. Technically, my real name is Jarod but I prefer Nemo. For my own reasons."
She decided to trust these people with her preferred name, but she wasn't anywhere near ready to tell them the reason for it.
Nemo put in one of her earbuds and hit shuffle on her iPod. The song that came on made her laugh a little. It was too appropriate.
"Mama, we all go to Hell..." | Birth Name: Jarod Zachary Veillon
Alliases: Nemo (she’s transgender and this is her chosen name)
Age: 15
Powers/Abilities TBA
Height: 5’3”
Appearance: Nemo often gets picked on for looking and sounding “too feminine for a boy.” If she revealed that she was actually a girl, though, she would probably just get even more shit. She’s short and thin, with barely any body fat and wide hips. Her face is round and youthful, pale with some freckles. Her black hair is short and usually messy. Her typical outfit consists of a loose-fitting t-shirt, jeans (usually ripped), a jacket about two sizes too big, the same pair of sneakers, and a hat, usually either a beanie or a baseball cap. The only major variation in her attire is the specific t-shirt she’s wearing, often with band logos, slogans, or movie references. It’s hard to tell Nemo’s gender by looking at her; she falls in the exact middle of the scale between masculine and feminine.
Personality: Nemo is a pretty docile person. She’s quiet and laid-back most of the time, preferring to stay out of the spotlight. She won’t initiate a conversation herself, but if someone comes up to her, she’ll be open and friendly. She values privacy, and rarely divulges information about herself outside of interests, hobbies, or favorite bands. You have to be really, really close to her for her to tell you that she’s trans, because she doesn’t want anyone to know just yet. She keeps a lot of secrets, but she is a very genuine person.
If Nemo is a space where she’s comfortable, with people she trusts, her quietness pretty much goes away. She’ll crack jokes, talk excitedly about stuff she likes, and laugh embarrassingly loud. Pretty much, if her laughter starts to sound like hysterical screaming, you know you’ve told a really good joke.
She’s not always so chill, though. She’s under a lot of stress from school, her peers, and gender dysphoria, and sometimes it gets to be too much. When she’s feeling overwhelmed, Nemo gets tense, irritable, and even more defensive than usual. She tends to ignore the onset of these feelings, leading to them growing out of proportion. In the past, this stress has lead to plenty of breakdowns in the past. The only cure for her in this situation is some time for relaxation and a good cry (which is bad, because she hates crying).
History: Nemo’s home life is a closely-kept secret. All most people know is that she lives in a small one-story house in a poor area with her single mother (who rarely ever shows her face around the school). She’s had a rather unremarkable past as a student, mostly known for being “girly” and a few incidents where she cried in class. For years, she has been the person that everyone knows of, but no one actually knows.
Anything else?/Trivial facts.
She is Asexual and romantically attracted to women.
She’s an unapologetic emo kid; but the self-aware kind that knows that she’s emo trash and has a sense of humor about it.
Ask her about music; she’ll give you about a million obscure band recommendations.
Her chosen name was not inspired by Finding Nemo, and she will vehemently assert this fact until the day she dies. |
5,611 | 153 | 73 | 525 | 491 | Michael strides ahead to the side of the group where the hobo kid had run off. He too takes out an Ipod, though one with a speaker on it instead of earbuds, and searches for a song on it. "I'm Michael, and I think we should head in that direction. That other kid seems to have volunteered to take point, so he can scout out anything dangerous for us. Seems pretty fair all things considered." He hits play, and the lyrics of "If you're going through hell, keep on going don't slow down, if you're scared don't show it, you might get out before the devil even knows you're there..." started playing. "Any argument?" | Name: Michael Forester
Alliases: Mike, and also his gaming username Cruallassar.
Age: 15
Powers/Abilities: Having no context, I will provide three possibilities individually developable depending on the story arc. Firstly would be shadow powers, including shadow manipulation, dematerialization, transportation and camouflage, among others. Second would be author powers, able to write additions to reality...such as a gun or magic object. Thirdly might be the Force. These are three power probabilities that have distinct meaning with regard to this character.
Height: 5 feet, ten inches.
Appearance: Almost-black hair, brown if you look at it in the right light and are able to see the lighter coloration. Brown eyes are slightly inset on a smooth, yet thin and angular face with a narrow chin. He tends to wear a casual smirk, and has an otherwise narrow build.
Attire-wise, he can nearly always be found wearing black jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt, even in summer 100 degree weather. He has a watch on his right wrist, and between classes, he has a black backpack that looks like he stores his entire locker's worth of books in it. He also wears a black pouch on his belt with an array of pens and pencils.
Personality: Intelligent, reserved, a ready wit and a lack of respect and/or knowledge for popular society are all attributes that would easily describe Michael. His speech patterns resemble Ultron and he can converse intelligently with anyone and on anything he deems intelligent, and scathingly with anyone on anything he deems not. Casually superior is what he would categorize himself as if asked, but it is easy to tell when he decides to take something...or someone...seriously. He makes it show. His compliments are to be treasured, his friendship is difficult to gain and harder still to lose, and while he would absolutely not take a bullet for his friends...he would certainly summon the fires of hell to avenge them, if needed to. (Metaphorically speaking of course...he's more into sentient computer programs, battlesuits, shadow/elven magic, and safer forms of fire. He's not self-destructive, after all.) He is someone who can be trusted by anyone but his enemies, feared by those, consulted on matters of intelligence, and ignored when it comes to social events and pop culture. Because in that, he will be standing quietly in the darkest corner he can find.
History: Michael is the oldest in a family of 6, and was homeschooled his whole life until this point. It was decided that his mom's attention was better served teaching his siblings, and he would benefit more from an actual highschool, since he was teaching himself most of his subjects...or simply ignoring them...at that point. So, at the age of 15, (Since he was plenty smart enough and because his birthday was just before the school year started so he'd be either the youngest or the oldest Freshman in the school...) our story begins.
Anything else?/Trivial facts.
One can list off popular singers, bands, and actors for an hour and he isn't likely to be familiar with more than ten of them.
He knows nearly everything about Star Wars...well, compared to anyone around him anyway.
He has started writing a book twice, failed each time, but has more established world built for each one separately than many existing movies, shows, or novels.
If you see him packing his bags, class will end in about 20 seconds. If you watch his hand thereafter, you will see him count down the last three of them. His watch is synchronized with the school clock, and he prides himself on being the first to class and the first to leave.
He walks faster than some people jog. |
5,612 | 153 | 74 | 1,855 | 764 | Victoria laughed slightly, it felt alien, and somehow not real given what happened. The song... Irony.
Heading in the same direction as rest careful on the rocky ground as tey left the body pile. This place was not going to be easy for her.
Noticing Nemo, two names, assumed name. Well there obviously was a story but one she not tell for a while. Giving her a nod, she was coming round and seemed to be recovering now. Nemo. Victoria could guess easily thr idiots remarks.
"hello then Nemo, il save you thr Dory joke. I know the feeling with frozen..."
Sighing, her pale skin was gonna be great here, red, muggy, not exactly blend in even though it was only her legs exposed, a open mid lengh fitted coat that was snug to her slim figure.
Nothicing mchael her English accent turning disctictly harsher and more Russian.
"that hobo theif who mugs women... Yeah watch out for him.
No objections. Can we get moving... Not safe... And I'm not fastest"
Her ring was now hidden on person, it felt off balenced on her hand but it seemed despite years of no trouble it took one ass hole. She might wear it again if they got out of here. Despite her seeming cool, the shape above had Victoria freaked and getting moving seemed a very good idea. | Name:
Marilania (Romus), Olympus (double barreled, somewhat a name she hides)
Alliases:
Mali, Marlin,
Age:18 ,
in her final year.
Powers/Abilities
(These will be introduced later) (will be done later)
Height:
5’5
Appearance:
fairly Athletic, long straight Blonde and with a penchant for skirts she is in good shape thanks professional sports, though is working back to her peak 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 hide, unless forced to exposé it in the pool or other scenarios. As a result never wears tops that expose it.
Looks much like her mother but has eyes nearly identical to her father in a fairly cold grey.
Has distinct English accent, despite having moved about still quite strong.
Often wears skirts and other outfits that do exploit her athletic figure, and similar but teamed with more chunky military style boots, and although hated by some of the more animal rights groups a fur coat that she always claims is fake in the winter.
Personality:
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.
Very close to her sister and family, but less with others outside a close circle of people.
Moving around alot made her more closed off and channelled her energy and frustrations into sports, her younger years she made very few long term friends as it hurt too much to keep moving on.
History:
First born to Vesarian she was left while her mother was pregnant and raised by Maria for much of her life before heading over to live with her father in term time as the school was better than the local one. Also so she could spend some time with her half sister.
Always pegged as the athlete since she was young she was on the local track team, similar to her sister but a injury changed her direction she would excel. Advised that during in recover she would find it easier on her leg Marilania soon found her skills where in the pool and made the team after a few months training.
Fast forward a few years she managed to win several championships for the school to a country level and attracted eyes of others who were interested in the young woman’s potential.
Her scar was picked up in a mugging gone wrong, a rather sour reminder as it meant she missed one of the largest events, one that as it would turn out was attended by a national scout. Her luck was stuck in a hospital with bandages and watching the video recorded by her team mates.
Academically she is smart, but sucks at languages and favours maths and sciences, wanting to look to a career in flight or aircraft if she can having fallen for it during a flight her mother got for her birthday in a classic vintage fighter aircraft.
Due to her mother moving around alot, she is fairly scared of making too many close friends, she only moved again and hurt more every time and actively misses out on team social events at times.
Anything else?/Trivial facts.
Won multiple awards In the pool and school champion on more that one occasion.
Learning to drive still and already managed to dent her father’s company car which put her in trouble for a few months.
Sisters close now but took a while for that to happen. still slightly resentful of her father. |
5,613 | 153 | 75 | 1,113 | 205 | Junks had run so far he thought he'd gotten away.
Well
He kinda did.
He had outrun the group, Thank God.
But there's one thing he'd learned in Hell very quickly.
You are never safe.
He hit a giant waall
Or he thought.
The wall was a giant creature. A giant great one straight out of Lovecraft's wet dreams.
It looked at him and Junks screamed.
He ran back the other way.
"Wrong way!"
He ran back to the group and instantly wanted to turn back.
..Soon we'll be dead, To death we'll be wed
We'll slip on the ring, It ain't a big thing.. | It'll always be open. Just hope this progresses some in a month.
Name your dog Askim. You'll thank me later. |
5,614 | 153 | 76 | 447 | 93 | Emily Karn. Oh, very clever - cauterising a stab wound by heating the blade of the weapon that caused it. Unfortunately, I doubt we'll have much longer to appreciate it. Emily approved of Greggory's plan, but not of Michael's. "I would consider that," she said to him, gesturing with her head towards the now-returning Junks "an argument."
Also, was the ironic music really necessary?
Apparently Jarod was really Nemo. Unsurprising, really, and with that Emily imagined she could get a good guess at what the reason for it was. In any case, it didn't matter much; either Nemo would or wouldn't explain, and in either case she'd do it in her own time.
Emily was about to take off headed in the same direction as Junks, but stopped herself. "Need a hand, then?" she said to Victoria. "I'm not inclined to leave one of the five people I can trust not to kill me in all of Hell. However, I'm also not inclined to die waiting for them." | Name: Emily Melissa Karn
Aliases: Emily has no real nicknames. Certain particularly helpful people from a few years ago called her "Freak".
Age: 15
Powers/abilities: Emily can quickly make a series of incredibly accurate predictions despite the almost impossible calculations required with so many variables. This allows her to be more proactive, rather than reactive, in combat, as she can make more and more reliable predictions as her ability grows (if the explanation was unclear, think of the ability Sherlock demonstrates in several combat scenes in the Sherlock Holmes movies, in which time stops while Sherlock describes how he will fight).
Height: 5'8"
Appearance: Emily has light hair and light eyes, the former being blonde and the latter blue. She is quite thin and lightly built, though not unhealthily so. Typically, she'll be dressed with her appearance in mind, but more as an afterthought than as a serious consideration. Emily also uses a similar philosophy with her makeup, using some but only a little, and will often have her hair in a high ponytail.
Personality: Emily has a strange psychological issue, believed to be caused by certain hormone glands being damaged either prior to or soon after her birth, which stops her from feeling compassion. She is aware of society's rules and expectations, meaning she knows what she should and shouldn't do, and many make sense to her from a logical perspective. However, she is never motivated by guilt or morality alone; her situation is comparable to that of a nonviolent psychopath.
A large part of the rest of Emily's personality comes from this, sometimes in unexpected ways. For example, she enjoys reading, especially first person, because it allows her to better understand how other people think. She is also very objective when it comes to decision-making, as she can't experience several of the motivations other people can, so logic takes the lead. She has had to gain skill in self-control, or her lack of empathy could lead her to hurt someone.
As for things unrelated to her disability, Emily is naturally very self-confident, independent, and introverted.
History: Emily was the daughter of Joseph Wram and Maria Karn, the former being a horrible, harsh man who Maria divorced while she was six months pregnant with Emily. When she told him of her intentions to do so, he lashed out in anger, striking her in the heads with a vase that caused severe blunt trauma and lacerations, and causing damage to Emily when Maria fell, which lead to her present disability. It didn't take long for Joseph to be arrested and imprisoned, and the divorce to take place.
Growing up was hard for Emily. She had to simultaneously face the difficulties of having a single parent, which lead to relative poverty, and the difficulties caused by her disability, which didn't get diagnosed for a very long time, because Maria could not afford it. Mistreatment by other students for being different eventually lead to a teacher, Mr. Jordan, getting involved, who ended up paying for her to have an examination. The bullies stopped once they found out what caused Emily's behaviour.
This helped Emily come to terms with who she was in the future. She has recieved additional help at school, including advice and therapy. It's almost a shame that Emily will never be able to appreciate it. |
5,615 | 153 | 77 | 1,855 | 764 | Victoria saw Junks return running back and guessed that obviously that was not the way out of here. Maybe the opposite direction might be better choice.
"so not a good way then!"
Not quite linking all tne Nemo and Jarod thing together, she might reveal the truth in time and it made no good sense to cause more fallouts. It did not matter regardless of what, she seemed nice and also was human so a big tick given thr situation.
Hearing Emily's offer she nodded, much as somewhat embarrassed by having to ask, getting out alive was a more valuable priority than pride. She was slower. A liability in all honestly.
"please. I'd rather get out of here alive. I'm good with codes, logic tricks, hacking... The school caught me when I reset every screen saver to a egg making tea comic..
Letting Emily's help was faster and they needed to cover ground even though she was at least 9 inches shorter than Emily despite being older. Damned world never let her forget her problems. Despite barely knowing Emily personally bar reputation she trusted her and let her take some of her admitly light weight and lead away.
Responding quietly so only she could hear with accent softening to a English tone.
"thankyou. You seem trustworthy at least." | Name:
Marilania (Romus), Olympus (double barreled, somewhat a name she hides)
Alliases:
Mali, Marlin,
Age:18 ,
in her final year.
Powers/Abilities
(These will be introduced later) (will be done later)
Height:
5’5
Appearance:
fairly Athletic, long straight Blonde and with a penchant for skirts she is in good shape thanks professional sports, though is working back to her peak 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 hide, unless forced to exposé it in the pool or other scenarios. As a result never wears tops that expose it.
Looks much like her mother but has eyes nearly identical to her father in a fairly cold grey.
Has distinct English accent, despite having moved about still quite strong.
Often wears skirts and other outfits that do exploit her athletic figure, and similar but teamed with more chunky military style boots, and although hated by some of the more animal rights groups a fur coat that she always claims is fake in the winter.
Personality:
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.
Very close to her sister and family, but less with others outside a close circle of people.
Moving around alot made her more closed off and channelled her energy and frustrations into sports, her younger years she made very few long term friends as it hurt too much to keep moving on.
History:
First born to Vesarian she was left while her mother was pregnant and raised by Maria for much of her life before heading over to live with her father in term time as the school was better than the local one. Also so she could spend some time with her half sister.
Always pegged as the athlete since she was young she was on the local track team, similar to her sister but a injury changed her direction she would excel. Advised that during in recover she would find it easier on her leg Marilania soon found her skills where in the pool and made the team after a few months training.
Fast forward a few years she managed to win several championships for the school to a country level and attracted eyes of others who were interested in the young woman’s potential.
Her scar was picked up in a mugging gone wrong, a rather sour reminder as it meant she missed one of the largest events, one that as it would turn out was attended by a national scout. Her luck was stuck in a hospital with bandages and watching the video recorded by her team mates.
Academically she is smart, but sucks at languages and favours maths and sciences, wanting to look to a career in flight or aircraft if she can having fallen for it during a flight her mother got for her birthday in a classic vintage fighter aircraft.
Due to her mother moving around alot, she is fairly scared of making too many close friends, she only moved again and hurt more every time and actively misses out on team social events at times.
Anything else?/Trivial facts.
Won multiple awards In the pool and school champion on more that one occasion.
Learning to drive still and already managed to dent her father’s company car which put her in trouble for a few months.
Sisters close now but took a while for that to happen. still slightly resentful of her father. |
5,616 | 153 | 78 | 525 | 491 | Michael nods solemnly at the quite well put argument to his specific wording of 'going in that direction'. He turns his music down to barely audible as it passes the appropriately ironic refrain into merely mundane country song lyrics. "Alright. New plan then...the opposite direction, and our resident expendable person still goes first." He looks pointedly toward Junks. | Name: Michael Forester
Alliases: Mike, and also his gaming username Cruallassar.
Age: 15
Powers/Abilities: Having no context, I will provide three possibilities individually developable depending on the story arc. Firstly would be shadow powers, including shadow manipulation, dematerialization, transportation and camouflage, among others. Second would be author powers, able to write additions to reality...such as a gun or magic object. Thirdly might be the Force. These are three power probabilities that have distinct meaning with regard to this character.
Height: 5 feet, ten inches.
Appearance: Almost-black hair, brown if you look at it in the right light and are able to see the lighter coloration. Brown eyes are slightly inset on a smooth, yet thin and angular face with a narrow chin. He tends to wear a casual smirk, and has an otherwise narrow build.
Attire-wise, he can nearly always be found wearing black jeans and a black long-sleeved shirt, even in summer 100 degree weather. He has a watch on his right wrist, and between classes, he has a black backpack that looks like he stores his entire locker's worth of books in it. He also wears a black pouch on his belt with an array of pens and pencils.
Personality: Intelligent, reserved, a ready wit and a lack of respect and/or knowledge for popular society are all attributes that would easily describe Michael. His speech patterns resemble Ultron and he can converse intelligently with anyone and on anything he deems intelligent, and scathingly with anyone on anything he deems not. Casually superior is what he would categorize himself as if asked, but it is easy to tell when he decides to take something...or someone...seriously. He makes it show. His compliments are to be treasured, his friendship is difficult to gain and harder still to lose, and while he would absolutely not take a bullet for his friends...he would certainly summon the fires of hell to avenge them, if needed to. (Metaphorically speaking of course...he's more into sentient computer programs, battlesuits, shadow/elven magic, and safer forms of fire. He's not self-destructive, after all.) He is someone who can be trusted by anyone but his enemies, feared by those, consulted on matters of intelligence, and ignored when it comes to social events and pop culture. Because in that, he will be standing quietly in the darkest corner he can find.
History: Michael is the oldest in a family of 6, and was homeschooled his whole life until this point. It was decided that his mom's attention was better served teaching his siblings, and he would benefit more from an actual highschool, since he was teaching himself most of his subjects...or simply ignoring them...at that point. So, at the age of 15, (Since he was plenty smart enough and because his birthday was just before the school year started so he'd be either the youngest or the oldest Freshman in the school...) our story begins.
Anything else?/Trivial facts.
One can list off popular singers, bands, and actors for an hour and he isn't likely to be familiar with more than ten of them.
He knows nearly everything about Star Wars...well, compared to anyone around him anyway.
He has started writing a book twice, failed each time, but has more established world built for each one separately than many existing movies, shows, or novels.
If you see him packing his bags, class will end in about 20 seconds. If you watch his hand thereafter, you will see him count down the last three of them. His watch is synchronized with the school clock, and he prides himself on being the first to class and the first to leave.
He walks faster than some people jog. |
5,617 | 153 | 79 | 1,113 | 205 | Look, The only reason In agreeing to go first is because most you guys are pricks.Junks honetly wanted to get the hell away from everyone. If they ever reached the surface..He'd be fucked. If he'd ever see a path he'd think lead to the surface, He'd have to trick them.
He heaved a deep sigh and started walking down a rather beaten path.
"C'mon." | It'll always be open. Just hope this progresses some in a month.
Name your dog Askim. You'll thank me later. |
5,618 | 153 | 80 | 447 | 93 | Emily raised her eyebrows when Victoria told her she seemed trustworthy. That was the first time someone had said something like that about her since she could remember. With good reason. "I'm afraid that's just not true. I'll tell you the full story some time we're safe, but for now, understand that the only thing you can rely on me doing is the thing that helps me most.
Since Emily didn't like the idea of spending breath on talking that instead could be used for running, and for helping Victoria keep up, she fell silent after that. All things considered, though, Hell was pleasantly surprising her. She'd expected to be dead by now, though maybe she had only survived because she belonged here. | Name: Emily Melissa Karn
Aliases: Emily has no real nicknames. Certain particularly helpful people from a few years ago called her "Freak".
Age: 15
Powers/abilities: Emily can quickly make a series of incredibly accurate predictions despite the almost impossible calculations required with so many variables. This allows her to be more proactive, rather than reactive, in combat, as she can make more and more reliable predictions as her ability grows (if the explanation was unclear, think of the ability Sherlock demonstrates in several combat scenes in the Sherlock Holmes movies, in which time stops while Sherlock describes how he will fight).
Height: 5'8"
Appearance: Emily has light hair and light eyes, the former being blonde and the latter blue. She is quite thin and lightly built, though not unhealthily so. Typically, she'll be dressed with her appearance in mind, but more as an afterthought than as a serious consideration. Emily also uses a similar philosophy with her makeup, using some but only a little, and will often have her hair in a high ponytail.
Personality: Emily has a strange psychological issue, believed to be caused by certain hormone glands being damaged either prior to or soon after her birth, which stops her from feeling compassion. She is aware of society's rules and expectations, meaning she knows what she should and shouldn't do, and many make sense to her from a logical perspective. However, she is never motivated by guilt or morality alone; her situation is comparable to that of a nonviolent psychopath.
A large part of the rest of Emily's personality comes from this, sometimes in unexpected ways. For example, she enjoys reading, especially first person, because it allows her to better understand how other people think. She is also very objective when it comes to decision-making, as she can't experience several of the motivations other people can, so logic takes the lead. She has had to gain skill in self-control, or her lack of empathy could lead her to hurt someone.
As for things unrelated to her disability, Emily is naturally very self-confident, independent, and introverted.
History: Emily was the daughter of Joseph Wram and Maria Karn, the former being a horrible, harsh man who Maria divorced while she was six months pregnant with Emily. When she told him of her intentions to do so, he lashed out in anger, striking her in the heads with a vase that caused severe blunt trauma and lacerations, and causing damage to Emily when Maria fell, which lead to her present disability. It didn't take long for Joseph to be arrested and imprisoned, and the divorce to take place.
Growing up was hard for Emily. She had to simultaneously face the difficulties of having a single parent, which lead to relative poverty, and the difficulties caused by her disability, which didn't get diagnosed for a very long time, because Maria could not afford it. Mistreatment by other students for being different eventually lead to a teacher, Mr. Jordan, getting involved, who ended up paying for her to have an examination. The bullies stopped once they found out what caused Emily's behaviour.
This helped Emily come to terms with who she was in the future. She has recieved additional help at school, including advice and therapy. It's almost a shame that Emily will never be able to appreciate it. |
5,619 | 153 | 81 | 1,855 | 764 | Victoria nodded to Emily, she might not be able to trust her but she was human which counted for alot more than it normally did.
“your human. We survived, for whatever reason. Something wants us together “
Sighing slightly, they where a right group of misfits, what did they do to earn this?
“maybe. I think we all have a interesting story to tell”
They headed further away from the pile and deeper wherever this hell went. Whatever they would find. Victoria found old doubts nagging. This place was not just fire and brimstone, it was something more evil, something that bravado could not defend against.
Looking over the the she saw of there little group, Nemo, a thief, the book worm and a guy younger. Sadly she did not know most of them as well, Junks must have been in her year. But he had already shown his colours.
“anyone want to get there I was right religious moment in? You not get a Better chance”
Noticing Gregg now she relised wherever as from, he was new but she was sure he was about when she was taking the tour last summer to get back used to the school alongside a few new students. He seemed about the right age and fashion to be that person.
“hey. I'm sure I remember you now. Summer, tour, my father was one in the navy coat, we were taking in Russian?
You were talking the finer points of some Star door, portal. Gate? or something . ”
Michael was younger, she had not even seen him before this day. Feeling slightly unsure what to say Victoria just waved with a free hand.
Things seemed calmer, but something scared her. The calm in hell, that could not be right, the evil never calmed, only became more incidious.
…
Marilania was panicking, whatever happened all her team mates had been dead, one had ran then the ground had opened and fallen into a pit of spikes, the screams echoed down the tunnels for over a minute shocking her to the core.
Fitness was paying off, the air was thick but she kept good pace running as screams echoes behind, Chittering monsters and all manner of sounds making Marilania run.
The tunnels where long but you could only see for 10 or so metres, strange smoke hung in air and every negative emotion and experience was amplified.
Seeing the group, Victoria had made it, thr girl from earlier. Frowning at the male. Now in slightly better clothes he still was same ass hole. Seeing the kid she was chatting to earlier too, waving gladly that some people made it and survived whatever hell they had endured.
“Vika! You made it!
I remember you. I saw you at... “
Her happiness was caught short as Victoria watched the shadow form behind her. The shape of a man came from the shadows and almost very walls of hell. Barely able to scream out of shock she watched as the figure blade almost forged from the smoke and plunged into her chest before it left vanishing back into the very nature of hell.
Weakly Marilania staggered and fell her pink jacket staining darker rapidly, falling weakly as her sister fell in shock holding Marilania, eyes streaming.
“no! Don, t don’t leave! “
Weakly barely holding together Victoria saw her sisters eyes slowly dim and her whisper practically, barely able to use her last strengh.
“just live Vika… live. “
Holding her sister as her last strengh failed dead in her arms. Ring still on finger, it almost very shine almost dulled by the sheer loss. The very light dimming in response to such act and loss.
...
Meanwhile the bystanders saw a diffrent image. Victoria saw her sister die herself, saw the blade penetrate her flesh. They saw the alternative. Bot sisters seemed to grieve for the other.
Thr killers blade penetrated Victoria from the shadows as Marilania watched. Marilania ran up watching Victoria fall and slide over as her pale snow like white skin turned red, falling into her arms.
"vika! Nook! Come on.... Come on..."
Victoria felt the blade peirce her side. Weaken as her blood fell from her side, staining everything as her legs gave way.
Eyes dimming watching her sister, feeling the life leave her body.
"Marlin... Make it out... One has to live...."
She fell limp in Marinalia arms as the younger sister died in her arms. Her ice pale skin barely changed despite blood loss and looking almost asleep as her eyes closed for thr last time. Marinalia broke down feeling the warmth leave Victoria.
Behind the two sisters last parting the smoke cleared slightly to reveal a message on the same simple wooden sign.
.....
(edited.)
“now you know what hell is. Your very fears. Your darkest impulses and memories.
The girl who lived thanks to blood money. Living on death of others, saved by there pain. Crippled, doubt, cold to her soul.
Now truly alone.
The one who hides. Scared of there self, doubting your own worth. Afraid always, afraid of everything.
The emotional cripple, always the monster, never knowing love. Never knowing anything but your cold existence.
Alone. Cold. Alone.
The haunted one. Never escaping your past. Blighted forever by your mistakes. Soul blackened by your own acts to prolong your darkest habits.
The book worm. Always hidden letting life pass you by. The watcher. Never knowing the joy. Always moving , never home.
Lastly the one who can think, timing, everything. So smart yet you are powerless here. All your so believed intelligence hopeless, useless.
Nothing.
Welcome to hell.
The blade that cuts deepest. “
Behind in the haze shadow forms gave a mocking salute before vanishing.
SO epic long post. I tried to include everyone I could in it.
Please see OOC or the discord for explain | Name:
Marilania (Romus), Olympus (double barreled, somewhat a name she hides)
Alliases:
Mali, Marlin,
Age:18 ,
in her final year.
Powers/Abilities
(These will be introduced later) (will be done later)
Height:
5’5
Appearance:
fairly Athletic, long straight Blonde and with a penchant for skirts she is in good shape thanks professional sports, though is working back to her peak 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 hide, unless forced to exposé it in the pool or other scenarios. As a result never wears tops that expose it.
Looks much like her mother but has eyes nearly identical to her father in a fairly cold grey.
Has distinct English accent, despite having moved about still quite strong.
Often wears skirts and other outfits that do exploit her athletic figure, and similar but teamed with more chunky military style boots, and although hated by some of the more animal rights groups a fur coat that she always claims is fake in the winter.
Personality:
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.
Very close to her sister and family, but less with others outside a close circle of people.
Moving around alot made her more closed off and channelled her energy and frustrations into sports, her younger years she made very few long term friends as it hurt too much to keep moving on.
History:
First born to Vesarian she was left while her mother was pregnant and raised by Maria for much of her life before heading over to live with her father in term time as the school was better than the local one. Also so she could spend some time with her half sister.
Always pegged as the athlete since she was young she was on the local track team, similar to her sister but a injury changed her direction she would excel. Advised that during in recover she would find it easier on her leg Marilania soon found her skills where in the pool and made the team after a few months training.
Fast forward a few years she managed to win several championships for the school to a country level and attracted eyes of others who were interested in the young woman’s potential.
Her scar was picked up in a mugging gone wrong, a rather sour reminder as it meant she missed one of the largest events, one that as it would turn out was attended by a national scout. Her luck was stuck in a hospital with bandages and watching the video recorded by her team mates.
Academically she is smart, but sucks at languages and favours maths and sciences, wanting to look to a career in flight or aircraft if she can having fallen for it during a flight her mother got for her birthday in a classic vintage fighter aircraft.
Due to her mother moving around alot, she is fairly scared of making too many close friends, she only moved again and hurt more every time and actively misses out on team social events at times.
Anything else?/Trivial facts.
Won multiple awards In the pool and school champion on more that one occasion.
Learning to drive still and already managed to dent her father’s company car which put her in trouble for a few months.
Sisters close now but took a while for that to happen. still slightly resentful of her father. |
5,620 | 153 | 82 | 1,113 | 205 | Junks collapsed. Not at the sight of blood. Naw, he'd seen that shit so much.
He collapsed into his personal hell. He twitched violently like how was overdosing and seizing yo at the same time.
His whole life was laid out before his baggy eyes.
He saw his mother. He was cradled in her arms. Warm. Loving was he gaze.
She turned into bones as the cocaine dug through her. Soon she was a skeleton with an empty smile.
A gun.
No.
No.
No
His father came through the door.
Skull fragments and blood poured out her head
He ran
Run
Run
Run
He saw the nun who took him in. She whipped him for no reason.
He stared into Jesus's eyes as her hand hit him.
Again. Again. Again.
Was there a God?
He ran again. Far away. Never knowing a home.
He remembered his first kiss. She was a crackhead and he was high. Was it love, or was it something that never existed?
He woke in the bed he spent in with her. He was 14, he remembered. But his reflection was 5. The young boy they found running down the street after his mother was murdered. His clothes wore her blood like a cruxifix. He turned into the boy that ran again from the Foster home run by those nuns. Black clothes with a gold cruxcruxifiHe degraded as he grew. Teeth rotted. Some disappeared. His crucifix disappeared with God's hope in him. He evolved until he was looking himself in the mirror. A exact reflection.
He then evolved further.
He wore a black suit. His teeth were replaced by solid, white ones.
This was what he would've become if he'd ran again.
Then he saw a skull. His skull. He was already dead. Was this hell real? Was he really still alive? Was he dead?
He twitched back into this world of flames screaming. | It'll always be open. Just hope this progresses some in a month.
Name your dog Askim. You'll thank me later. |
5,621 | 153 | 83 | 1,268 | 220 | Loud. Everything was too fucking loud.
Nemo could vaguely hear the others, likely going through their own tortures, but they were all drowned out by the voices. Those goddamned voices. The ones that told her that she was a freak and a liar and she would never be seen as a girl, not really. This was coupled with an unbearable crawling sensation under her skin that made her want to fucking scream.
These things were familiar, but the intensity wasn’t. They felt… real. Tangible. It was as if the voices that normally whispered from the back of her thoughts were being shouted right into her ears and the softer, sweeter voice that said, “It’s normal to feel this way, you're a good person, you’re going to be okay,” was absent.
Nemo felt like she was suffocating from the heat. She tore off her jacket and dropped it to the ground. Staring at her bare arms, she noticed movement. Things crawling under her skin. The voices screamed at her to tear them out.
She scratched. Scratched. Kept scratching until she broke skin. Her nerve endings screeched in pain, but she kept going, gritting her teeth against the urge to cry out. Moths crawled out from under her skin and took flight, crumbling to dust in the air.
She didn’t stop. She dug her fingers deeper into her flesh, pulling out nerves and tendons and discarding them on the ground. It wasn’t even the voices pushing her on at this point, just her anger. Her body, her flesh, her very physicality was a disgrace that needed to be gone, destroyed, erased from existence because she was all those things the voices said she was, and she didn’t deserve to exist.
Nemo collapsed to her knees, her breathing loud and ragged. In a sudden, the voices quieted. She looked down at her arms. There was no gore, no viscera, no moths. Just red scratches and small cuts, blood beading from them. The stinging that pricked at her skin was nowhere near what she felt during her delusions.
She brought her shaking hands to cover her face, trying to take deep breaths. The pain, the voices, they were gone, but the desire remained. The desire to rip and tear at her body, spill her organs, destroy her very being was still there.
That feeling scared her more than anything. | Birth Name: Jarod Zachary Veillon
Alliases: Nemo (she’s transgender and this is her chosen name)
Age: 15
Powers/Abilities TBA
Height: 5’3”
Appearance: Nemo often gets picked on for looking and sounding “too feminine for a boy.” If she revealed that she was actually a girl, though, she would probably just get even more shit. She’s short and thin, with barely any body fat and wide hips. Her face is round and youthful, pale with some freckles. Her black hair is short and usually messy. Her typical outfit consists of a loose-fitting t-shirt, jeans (usually ripped), a jacket about two sizes too big, the same pair of sneakers, and a hat, usually either a beanie or a baseball cap. The only major variation in her attire is the specific t-shirt she’s wearing, often with band logos, slogans, or movie references. It’s hard to tell Nemo’s gender by looking at her; she falls in the exact middle of the scale between masculine and feminine.
Personality: Nemo is a pretty docile person. She’s quiet and laid-back most of the time, preferring to stay out of the spotlight. She won’t initiate a conversation herself, but if someone comes up to her, she’ll be open and friendly. She values privacy, and rarely divulges information about herself outside of interests, hobbies, or favorite bands. You have to be really, really close to her for her to tell you that she’s trans, because she doesn’t want anyone to know just yet. She keeps a lot of secrets, but she is a very genuine person.
If Nemo is a space where she’s comfortable, with people she trusts, her quietness pretty much goes away. She’ll crack jokes, talk excitedly about stuff she likes, and laugh embarrassingly loud. Pretty much, if her laughter starts to sound like hysterical screaming, you know you’ve told a really good joke.
She’s not always so chill, though. She’s under a lot of stress from school, her peers, and gender dysphoria, and sometimes it gets to be too much. When she’s feeling overwhelmed, Nemo gets tense, irritable, and even more defensive than usual. She tends to ignore the onset of these feelings, leading to them growing out of proportion. In the past, this stress has lead to plenty of breakdowns in the past. The only cure for her in this situation is some time for relaxation and a good cry (which is bad, because she hates crying).
History: Nemo’s home life is a closely-kept secret. All most people know is that she lives in a small one-story house in a poor area with her single mother (who rarely ever shows her face around the school). She’s had a rather unremarkable past as a student, mostly known for being “girly” and a few incidents where she cried in class. For years, she has been the person that everyone knows of, but no one actually knows.
Anything else?/Trivial facts.
She is Asexual and romantically attracted to women.
She’s an unapologetic emo kid; but the self-aware kind that knows that she’s emo trash and has a sense of humor about it.
Ask her about music; she’ll give you about a million obscure band recommendations.
Her chosen name was not inspired by Finding Nemo, and she will vehemently assert this fact until the day she dies. |
5,622 | 153 | 84 | 447 | 93 | Emily watched as the others each fell into their own respective tortures. No doubt each was horrific, but equally, there was little chance that Emily could do anything to help them. Better to wait until they recover by themselves.
A dark force came across Emily's mind. Probably a demon, or a devil, or something similar. She regarded the presence curiously, then spoke out to it, mentally.
You're stupider than I'd have thought if you think that you can use my lack of guilt to make me feel guilty.
And you're stupider than I'd have thought if you think that makes you safe.
What can you do to me? I have no conscience for you to exploit.
Then use theirs.
Emily's vision blurred momentarily, then returned to clarity. Suddenly, she couldn't stop thinking about the other students, the ones that had died in that huge mound, a few minutes ago. How terrible it was, what had happened to them, and how it was even worse that she hadn't felt a thing. She realised how she was seen. She knew she was a monster.
She wanted to throw up. She was kneeling now, she hadn't been paying attention to it, but at some point she must have knelt down. Now she couldn't take her mind off the surviving students, how they would hate her if they knew about what she was. For the first time in her life, she cried.
Next she thought of her mother. The dissapointment she must feel in Emily, to know that her own daughter did not love her. The daughter that she'd pushed herself to the edge for, working obsene hours to support the pair of them alone, did not love her.
Not that she would have to any more. Emily was in Hell, and she'd never escape it. Even if she got the chance, she couldn't take it. Not after what she'd done. It would be better to stay where she was and recieve punishment for her crimes. So Emily curled up, shaking, as the guilt carried her off into a nightmare. | Name: Emily Melissa Karn
Aliases: Emily has no real nicknames. Certain particularly helpful people from a few years ago called her "Freak".
Age: 15
Powers/abilities: Emily can quickly make a series of incredibly accurate predictions despite the almost impossible calculations required with so many variables. This allows her to be more proactive, rather than reactive, in combat, as she can make more and more reliable predictions as her ability grows (if the explanation was unclear, think of the ability Sherlock demonstrates in several combat scenes in the Sherlock Holmes movies, in which time stops while Sherlock describes how he will fight).
Height: 5'8"
Appearance: Emily has light hair and light eyes, the former being blonde and the latter blue. She is quite thin and lightly built, though not unhealthily so. Typically, she'll be dressed with her appearance in mind, but more as an afterthought than as a serious consideration. Emily also uses a similar philosophy with her makeup, using some but only a little, and will often have her hair in a high ponytail.
Personality: Emily has a strange psychological issue, believed to be caused by certain hormone glands being damaged either prior to or soon after her birth, which stops her from feeling compassion. She is aware of society's rules and expectations, meaning she knows what she should and shouldn't do, and many make sense to her from a logical perspective. However, she is never motivated by guilt or morality alone; her situation is comparable to that of a nonviolent psychopath.
A large part of the rest of Emily's personality comes from this, sometimes in unexpected ways. For example, she enjoys reading, especially first person, because it allows her to better understand how other people think. She is also very objective when it comes to decision-making, as she can't experience several of the motivations other people can, so logic takes the lead. She has had to gain skill in self-control, or her lack of empathy could lead her to hurt someone.
As for things unrelated to her disability, Emily is naturally very self-confident, independent, and introverted.
History: Emily was the daughter of Joseph Wram and Maria Karn, the former being a horrible, harsh man who Maria divorced while she was six months pregnant with Emily. When she told him of her intentions to do so, he lashed out in anger, striking her in the heads with a vase that caused severe blunt trauma and lacerations, and causing damage to Emily when Maria fell, which lead to her present disability. It didn't take long for Joseph to be arrested and imprisoned, and the divorce to take place.
Growing up was hard for Emily. She had to simultaneously face the difficulties of having a single parent, which lead to relative poverty, and the difficulties caused by her disability, which didn't get diagnosed for a very long time, because Maria could not afford it. Mistreatment by other students for being different eventually lead to a teacher, Mr. Jordan, getting involved, who ended up paying for her to have an examination. The bullies stopped once they found out what caused Emily's behaviour.
This helped Emily come to terms with who she was in the future. She has recieved additional help at school, including advice and therapy. It's almost a shame that Emily will never be able to appreciate it. |
5,623 | 153 | 85 | 1,855 | 764 | Victoria reached over closing her sisters eyes as her own steamed with tears, ignoring those around her lost in grief, loss and sheer trauma. Her sister had always looked after her and now she was alone in hell, alone with strangers, alone at home. Her father was often away and the two sisters had grown very close relying on the other heavily as no one else to.
Not noticing the others, her own darkness so deep that she never noticed the truth or the others.
...
Marilania was distraught, Victoria had always been the one she felt responsible for, despite being half sisters and o ly living together for the school period the two had become very close. She had seen her go from athletic, to barely a ale to walk, to recovering. After that they could not help but be full sisters regardless of there diffrent mothers.
Looking down seeing the ghostly eye lids shut, contrasting harshly as bright red blood has stained down her leg contrasting as violantly as her death.
...
Not noticing the other, both feeling the same powerful emotions, both lost in the darkest moments. Neither did notice merely a few metres away the other was alive.
Hell was cruel in its games. | Name:
Marilania (Romus), Olympus (double barreled, somewhat a name she hides)
Alliases:
Mali, Marlin,
Age:18 ,
in her final year.
Powers/Abilities
(These will be introduced later) (will be done later)
Height:
5’5
Appearance:
fairly Athletic, long straight Blonde and with a penchant for skirts she is in good shape thanks professional sports, though is working back to her peak 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 hide, unless forced to exposé it in the pool or other scenarios. As a result never wears tops that expose it.
Looks much like her mother but has eyes nearly identical to her father in a fairly cold grey.
Has distinct English accent, despite having moved about still quite strong.
Often wears skirts and other outfits that do exploit her athletic figure, and similar but teamed with more chunky military style boots, and although hated by some of the more animal rights groups a fur coat that she always claims is fake in the winter.
Personality:
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.
Very close to her sister and family, but less with others outside a close circle of people.
Moving around alot made her more closed off and channelled her energy and frustrations into sports, her younger years she made very few long term friends as it hurt too much to keep moving on.
History:
First born to Vesarian she was left while her mother was pregnant and raised by Maria for much of her life before heading over to live with her father in term time as the school was better than the local one. Also so she could spend some time with her half sister.
Always pegged as the athlete since she was young she was on the local track team, similar to her sister but a injury changed her direction she would excel. Advised that during in recover she would find it easier on her leg Marilania soon found her skills where in the pool and made the team after a few months training.
Fast forward a few years she managed to win several championships for the school to a country level and attracted eyes of others who were interested in the young woman’s potential.
Her scar was picked up in a mugging gone wrong, a rather sour reminder as it meant she missed one of the largest events, one that as it would turn out was attended by a national scout. Her luck was stuck in a hospital with bandages and watching the video recorded by her team mates.
Academically she is smart, but sucks at languages and favours maths and sciences, wanting to look to a career in flight or aircraft if she can having fallen for it during a flight her mother got for her birthday in a classic vintage fighter aircraft.
Due to her mother moving around alot, she is fairly scared of making too many close friends, she only moved again and hurt more every time and actively misses out on team social events at times.
Anything else?/Trivial facts.
Won multiple awards In the pool and school champion on more that one occasion.
Learning to drive still and already managed to dent her father’s company car which put her in trouble for a few months.
Sisters close now but took a while for that to happen. still slightly resentful of her father. |
5,624 | 153 | 86 | 1,113 | 205 | Junks woke from his repressed memories and saw the Bitch he stole from earlier kneeling and weeping or some shit. The only thought was that everyone needed to get the fuck out of here.
"Bitch! Get the fuck up! We have to leave!" He shook her shoulders violently. So ducking violently it probably shook around some brain matter. he kept shaking and when that didn't seem to work he starting shaking her head. He looked in her eyes. "LOOK AT ME. GET THE FUCK UP!"
"Jerry. What the fuck are you doing? She ain't got no cash on her no more. She ain't got no use no more."
No..
Above him stood a figure. I figure of his imagination?
His name was forgotten with all the brain cells he'd burnt up in his days. His nickname was Jack. He renamed himself after the whiskey he'd loved so much when he was alive. He had taught Junks every trick he'd known until he accidentally overdosed when Junks was 15. He wore his typical appeal. Very similar yo what Junks used to wear until a few hours? Minutes? Hell time is fucked up.
"Jack...I..."
"Quit your bitching and follow me."
Junks stood up and followed his old mentor as he walked and stood overlooking the convulsing bodies.
To everyone else he was talking to the crisp, hot, hellish air.
Maybe he was. | It'll always be open. Just hope this progresses some in a month.
Name your dog Askim. You'll thank me later. |
5,625 | 153 | 87 | 1,855 | 764 | Victoria saw thr body of her sister seem to vanish, shaking, heavier and heavier until a force grabbed her head and shook her violantly causing her to be stunned by the shock..
"ernough, ernough!"
Opening her eyes to see a face missing a few teeth and same face Victoria jumped slightly, before a second shock seeing Marilania return the same shocked look seeing Victoria alive at same time"
"get off my.... Sister! What the hell your..."
Victoria looked over utterly surprised before giving Junks a look that would chill a polar bear into a ice cube. Turning the last remark to Junks, accent Gaining a Russian aspect.
"Marlin!... Get off. That hurts.. I'm awake."
Marilania saw junks talking to seemingly thin air and looked round at group convulsion on ground shocked by whatever power had effected them. Somthing far greater than they possessed.
"What. There's no one there...its probbly this monster taunting you .. And that's for my sister."
Aiming a hard slap at junks before going over to Victoria and happily hugging her, glad she was alive and deciding that whatever caused the effect was somthing they probbly did not want to meet. | Name:
Marilania (Romus), Olympus (double barreled, somewhat a name she hides)
Alliases:
Mali, Marlin,
Age:18 ,
in her final year.
Powers/Abilities
(These will be introduced later) (will be done later)
Height:
5’5
Appearance:
fairly Athletic, long straight Blonde and with a penchant for skirts she is in good shape thanks professional sports, though is working back to her peak 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 hide, unless forced to exposé it in the pool or other scenarios. As a result never wears tops that expose it.
Looks much like her mother but has eyes nearly identical to her father in a fairly cold grey.
Has distinct English accent, despite having moved about still quite strong.
Often wears skirts and other outfits that do exploit her athletic figure, and similar but teamed with more chunky military style boots, and although hated by some of the more animal rights groups a fur coat that she always claims is fake in the winter.
Personality:
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.
Very close to her sister and family, but less with others outside a close circle of people.
Moving around alot made her more closed off and channelled her energy and frustrations into sports, her younger years she made very few long term friends as it hurt too much to keep moving on.
History:
First born to Vesarian she was left while her mother was pregnant and raised by Maria for much of her life before heading over to live with her father in term time as the school was better than the local one. Also so she could spend some time with her half sister.
Always pegged as the athlete since she was young she was on the local track team, similar to her sister but a injury changed her direction she would excel. Advised that during in recover she would find it easier on her leg Marilania soon found her skills where in the pool and made the team after a few months training.
Fast forward a few years she managed to win several championships for the school to a country level and attracted eyes of others who were interested in the young woman’s potential.
Her scar was picked up in a mugging gone wrong, a rather sour reminder as it meant she missed one of the largest events, one that as it would turn out was attended by a national scout. Her luck was stuck in a hospital with bandages and watching the video recorded by her team mates.
Academically she is smart, but sucks at languages and favours maths and sciences, wanting to look to a career in flight or aircraft if she can having fallen for it during a flight her mother got for her birthday in a classic vintage fighter aircraft.
Due to her mother moving around alot, she is fairly scared of making too many close friends, she only moved again and hurt more every time and actively misses out on team social events at times.
Anything else?/Trivial facts.
Won multiple awards In the pool and school champion on more that one occasion.
Learning to drive still and already managed to dent her father’s company car which put her in trouble for a few months.
Sisters close now but took a while for that to happen. still slightly resentful of her father. |
5,626 | 153 | 88 | 1,113 | 205 | The slap didn't even matter. All Junks was focused on was Jack.
"How? How are you here?" He and Jack walked a bit AMD sat down on the ground. It looked like diet but felt like daggers in Junks' ass.
"I'm here because this is my purgatory. I wasn't no saint and I wasn't no sinner. I'm just stuck here.
Junks looked worried.
"..Am I stuck here?" Jack gave a chuckle.
"New. I don't think yer a dead kid yet...Now listen. There's a guy down here that wants to meet you and your..Friends. C'mon Junks. We ain't got all day." Junks followed his mentor in a near trance like state. These glimpses of hell were simply like trying to open your eyes to the fierce afternoon sun as Jack began to lead Junks on the right path. A giant tower loomed far in the distance. | It'll always be open. Just hope this progresses some in a month.
Name your dog Askim. You'll thank me later. |
5,627 | 153 | 89 | 1,855 | 764 | Marilania and Victoria watched as Junks headed out towards some. Other space, was he lost or did he know somthing they had not seen, whatever it was here was capable of more than that it seemed.
"stay here Vika. Il look... Don, t know... I feel somthing is up."
Victoria nodded and saw him leave, preoccupied by some event.
"sure... Stay safe... Please."
Nodding seriously to her sister. Marinalia saw junks and followed the fresh foot steps in the dust and dirt of the floor. Hot, dusty, choking. Even she was struggling, yet alone Victoria who was weaker than her.
Peaking round a corner she saw the very far shape of a towering citadel, a massive solid shape, shaped, impossible to be natural like the other rock.
Sneaking back hoping junks not notice she headed back to the main group.
"guys... Theres somthing up there... Big.. Towering. Tower.
It seems to be important. That.. Junks?
He seems to know the way" | Name:
Marilania (Romus), Olympus (double barreled, somewhat a name she hides)
Alliases:
Mali, Marlin,
Age:18 ,
in her final year.
Powers/Abilities
(These will be introduced later) (will be done later)
Height:
5’5
Appearance:
fairly Athletic, long straight Blonde and with a penchant for skirts she is in good shape thanks professional sports, though is working back to her peak 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 hide, unless forced to exposé it in the pool or other scenarios. As a result never wears tops that expose it.
Looks much like her mother but has eyes nearly identical to her father in a fairly cold grey.
Has distinct English accent, despite having moved about still quite strong.
Often wears skirts and other outfits that do exploit her athletic figure, and similar but teamed with more chunky military style boots, and although hated by some of the more animal rights groups a fur coat that she always claims is fake in the winter.
Personality:
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.
Very close to her sister and family, but less with others outside a close circle of people.
Moving around alot made her more closed off and channelled her energy and frustrations into sports, her younger years she made very few long term friends as it hurt too much to keep moving on.
History:
First born to Vesarian she was left while her mother was pregnant and raised by Maria for much of her life before heading over to live with her father in term time as the school was better than the local one. Also so she could spend some time with her half sister.
Always pegged as the athlete since she was young she was on the local track team, similar to her sister but a injury changed her direction she would excel. Advised that during in recover she would find it easier on her leg Marilania soon found her skills where in the pool and made the team after a few months training.
Fast forward a few years she managed to win several championships for the school to a country level and attracted eyes of others who were interested in the young woman’s potential.
Her scar was picked up in a mugging gone wrong, a rather sour reminder as it meant she missed one of the largest events, one that as it would turn out was attended by a national scout. Her luck was stuck in a hospital with bandages and watching the video recorded by her team mates.
Academically she is smart, but sucks at languages and favours maths and sciences, wanting to look to a career in flight or aircraft if she can having fallen for it during a flight her mother got for her birthday in a classic vintage fighter aircraft.
Due to her mother moving around alot, she is fairly scared of making too many close friends, she only moved again and hurt more every time and actively misses out on team social events at times.
Anything else?/Trivial facts.
Won multiple awards In the pool and school champion on more that one occasion.
Learning to drive still and already managed to dent her father’s company car which put her in trouble for a few months.
Sisters close now but took a while for that to happen. still slightly resentful of her father. |
5,628 | 154 | 0 | 1,626 | 442 | Aurum town, built some centuries ago, now grows and thrives as a trading town with its location being prime to its purpose: situated just on the edge of a water body that brings in ships with goods and eager traders. Also connected to the mainland, and located near other to-note destinations makes the town no small place. A city in its size, though perhaps not recognised yet, the town brings together many races in its cultural centre, and they have learnt to come to accepting terms of each other for the most part, despite the occasional disagreement. With resources like forests and caves littered across in the vicinity that tempt the residents to come and take, bountiful and benevolent as the gods they serve, it's no wonder it's so popular and 'hip' in its time.
But our story isn't set in this town. Just a little bit away, really.
Not too far away from this happy, bustling little trade-town lies a mighty guild, welcoming to all those who set eyes on the intricate iron gates, ever open, ever warm. The mosaic path beyond leading to the building is to be admired: creams and blues and burnt siennas lighting up the area and glinting when they catch the sun's light. Forests nearby keep the guild under the coverage it needs to be safe, and to provide its members with some challenge. Some adventure, as it were. Caves can be a particular favourite.
Though there comes an occasion where a team is sent far off, outside their comfort zone, to explore what we call a 'dungeon', or a 'labyrinth'. Obviously open to any fool who wishes to try, newbies are sent to the guildmaster's particular favourite to show off their skills, and complete her request. With her eyes and ears ever present in the walls, she learns of the ability of the team, as to set them challenges in the future that they'll rise to.
Our story is set here, in this guild, with some very unlikely people. With some very unexpected fates. Destined to meet in a very unexpected place, and continue to venture into places forth that their greatest dreams and desires could never have imagined.
Aerenthis awaits.
---
Wake up call: 8-8:30 AM (most people don't get up unless there's a horn blaring for several minutes unfortunately)
Breakfast: Served at 9 AM sharp, and can go on to 11 AM. Daily announcements made here and in this time notices are put on notice boards for guild-members to see.
Lunch: Served at 1 PM, and can go on to 3 PM. Not a mandatory meal for most explorers as they can find their own lunch whilst out, but for anyone still at the guild a hot meal remains ever ready.
Dinner: Served at 7 PM, and can go on to 9 PM. This is to ensure that everyone returning home gets a proper meal before a good night's sleep. Second most important meal of the day. (Best food served at this time, in Guildmistress Ivanna's opinion!)
Lights Out: 11:30 PM, to ensure all guild-members get a good night's sleep of about 8 and a half hours. Whatever you choose to do outside of 'lights out' is your own responsibility. But if you bother anyone else's sleep, rest assured, here are consequences.
Rules and timings are set to keep guild-members as safe as possible, and make sure they're cared for.
A fraction of any money earned as rewards for tasks completed for the townpeople goes to the guild, obviously. Most items are allowed to be kept by the guild-members, though.
A storage account can be started at Aurum Town (barely a 7 minute walk away, and a 3 minute ride on horseback) under the name or account of a party registered with the guild, to store any items that cannot be kept in the inventory, or cannot be kept in quarters at the guild. Money can also be stored for safe-keeping, in case of being robbed in an exploration, a dungeon, or just generally.
With two floors above ground, top and main floor mostly for dorms and such, and two floors below the ground and a courtyard that extends behind the guild also containing about 20 or so stable boxes and designated areas for riding, including a path leading off into the wood, it's a pretty big place. Mess hall located on the bottom-most floor, and the guildmistress' office located on the main floor. Notice boards with jobs will be posted on all floors except the top-most, with different job descriptions and requirements and requests. The notice board on the top floor would be reserved for the guild-members, and any personal messages or things they'd like to post up there, as in lost item reports, love-letters, organised events for the guild, etc.
Teaching would take place on the first floor underground of the guild, as a couple of qualified individuals wait, and along with their duties to the guild, happily share their knowledge and school anyone interested. We currently have teachers for hand-to-hand combat, weapons up-close and personal like swordplay, or the use of lances or axes, archery/ranged weapon and how to develop skills with them, different magics, general literature (for those who might not know how to read and write), and some language teachers of different tongues, if you were to venture deep into the hearts of other regions, where the influence of the humans and their 'english language' wasn't as widespread.
Housing in the guild generally has a room for four people, and berths are pretty simple, with rooms being homey more than anything else with tall windows to the outside world and orange/cream internal decor. Each individual would have a chest to keep their belongings in, in the decently sized room, and a main, larger chest for other things like bedsheets and just essentials. Minimal decor, some tables, and attached restrooms with mirrors and running water (thank the guild being located along the line of that water body for the fresh water).
---
"Good morning, miss." came a warm voice from somewhere behind a little lady glancing out of a tall window outside. She seemed lost in thought, and had to be nudged before she responded to the elven man behind her, and then she smiled a warm smile and waved her hand dismissively up at him.
“I’m fine, Adrian. Just watching the morning sun rise as always, and offering it my prayers. I have a feeling something’s going to happen today. Something new.” She beamed, and glowed even more radiant with the light hitting her face. For her thirty-two years, this dwarven woman had kept herself well in shape with her skin glowing to date even without the sun.
“Miss Ivanna, I know, but you say that every day.” The elven man, Adrian, shrugged with a laugh, and an affectionate glance over at her. He even ruffled her hair a little, though she was a good foot and a half shorter than his 6’1. “We’ll see, as every day, shall we?”
“You’re such a tease. Whippersnapper.” The older woman faked an overdramatic sigh before giving him a smile, almost playful now. “Come. It’s almost time for breakfast, isn’t it?”
“You’re quite right, as always, Guildmistress.”
“Good. Then come. We’ll see what the day brings over a nice breakfast, of bread and fruit, as I expect no fresh meat has been bought or hunted for the day.” She looked almost a little saddened. One of her favourite meals was roast lamb, but that would be quite inappropriate at the time, being 8:45 in the morning. Breakfast was at 9, and usually went on to 11, and lunch was served at 1 PM, and went on to 3. Dinner in the evening was at 7, and went on to 9, and ‘lights out’ (officially, anyway) would be at 11:30.
“Of course. Don’t fret though, we’ll have some by the afternoon. For now, let us leave.” His blue eyes shone with turquoise specks from the light pouring through the window, as he put a hand on the shorter woman’s shoulder and led her off to the cafeteria, after a brief stop at her office of course to see what adventures were available, and requests had been made by the nearby townspeople on that day.
One that would prove to be fateful indeed. | Name: Freija Fey Kiraiian (Of the Kiraiian bloodline)
Gender: Female
Age: 17 (human years)
Race: Elven
Height: 5’6”
Hair colour: Strawberry blonde
Eye colour: Light blue
General Appearance: The first thing you’d notice about Freija would be her hair, if you weren’t looking her right in the face. A light strawberry blonde, her hair falls (more bounces, really, with the health and life it contains, almost a feature of most men and women of the Kiraiian blood) to her mid back and is poker-straight for the most part, though the ends of odd strands tend to fall in curls. Razor-slashed bangs fall over her left eye and she usually has to pin them back when she works. Her eyes, for that matter, are clear and the slightest blue, not to the point of being icy however. They contrast with her hair, but not with her skin, which remains pale. If you’d notice, she actually has an intricate floral design running down her temple, all the way down the right side of her body, to her ankles, like a birthmark in a tan peach/rose colour that looks natural against the colour of her skin. She stands at 5’6 and is built delicate like most elves, to the point of being almost light and weightless when she moves, and aids her in getting away should the situation call.
Her attire mainly consists of flowing gowns on special occasions, though she’s found in breeches and riding boots and not-as-dressy tunics for everyday use with her hair tied back in a ponytail with a roll of lavender ribbon she always seems to carry.
Personality: Lively doesn’t even begin to describe Freija. She’s bouncy, flirty, and her pride can get the better of her more often than not. A definite people person, she goes at every opportunity to make contact with anyone and everyone, verbally or otherwise. She could be considered friendly, but that’s just how she likes it to be. For herself to be easily approachable.
Not as superficially, she runs pretty deep with emotions and has the ability to empathise should need require, though her patience can tend to be short if someone doesn’t take heed of what she’s saying. Essential qualities in a healer: To be able to understand the pain, need and want of the patients she’s presented. A love for animals, especially the horse she owns.
Her downfalls would happen to be the worldly flaws of everyone else. She’s incredibly envious though she’d never admit it, and smile and laugh though backbiting’s another sin befalling her. Her pride comes into play as well and she can end up being the slightest bit narcissistic when not careful. She’s greedy if presented something, and if she favours it, will thirst for more and do whatever to get it in her power.
(More to come when I’m less tired ahahaha)
History/Backstory: Freija had nothing to complain about growing up. Nothing of note, anyway. Her family came to the town and through business there, grew closer to the humans, dwarves and other races that inhabited it and drew out of their shells soon enough. The only time she’d ever remembered being scarred was when a relative was killed off by a more animalistic race over some dispute she thought was utterly petty when the news had reached her. Though she wasn’t the closest to them, she still grew frightened, and wary of said race. More than her parents, she spent her life learning from her aunt, a herbalist, who taught her everything she knows to date, but also leaving her quite a sheltered child because of the time she devoted to studies. Her over-eagerness for life outside her childhood comes from being cooped up for so long and craving and thirsting for the outside world, and hence fuels her charming disposition and ability to befriend most anyone willing to give her a try.
Unfortunately, this leaves her very, very naïve, even as a young adult she’s coming to be, and quite the ‘damsel in distress’ in most situations.
The reason for her coming to the guild was simple, though perhaps not one her parents particularly agreed with. She wanted, as always, to taste more of the outside world. To explore the different areas of the region and live out 'the dream' of every teenager with a wandering heart and spirit at that age.
Abilities (No OP, please!): Skilled at equestrian sport and an archer best fit on horseback, though her main powers lie with her healing abilities and so knowledge of what herbs do what, and archery was taken up more in self defense. Magic is included in her healing though barely ever used by her if a herb can’t do the trick. Can perform basic damaging spells though she plans to work on those at the guild because they only wound, never enough. She’s absolutely useless with anything other than a bow and arrow, and would sooner end up hurting herself than anyone else if given a weapon to use.
Special Mentions(if any): Owns a drafting horse she calls Spirit. A black stallion of 6 who’s been with her for quite a long time now, and in the prime of his ‘career’. Parents got him for her as a present and they’ve been inseparable since. |
5,629 | 154 | 1 | 1,668 | 11 | The Aurum town was emanating sounds of all kinds already at this early hour; from the low breathing of fire-stokers in the bakeries, to the barking of a dog and the ever more common angry housewife, barking at their husbands for either the ale in the breath, or the perfume on their clothes. Despite the rather unsettling situations that happen between 'loving' husbands and their wives, Aurum is actually a content and peaceful town, marketplaces booming with friendly banter and ever so more friendly rivalries within the mercantile business.
Aurum was a town of peace yes, but of course even the most diplomatic of towns needs protection. The local guard saw to that, fitted with all manner of steel and metal crafted to near Elvish perfection, if not greater than that. The force responsible for such an achievement would be the town's smithy, named Hearthfire. The owner of the smithy was the respected Madolche Landstar, a noble Orcish human who earned his rank with his metal. Sadly, the Orc grew feeble with age, and died a peaceful death, leaving the smithy in his more than capable apprentice now turned master, Nick Grant, a human through and through. Madolche took Nick into his arms as an apprentice, taking a form of pity on the boy upon hearing of his past; his parents. Unfortunately, Nick had to work harder than what he anticipated. In noble families, bastards have no right to any fame or fortune the family own, and if you are an orphan, you might as well be a bastard to the world, so naturally Nick had to show his talents.
Within a week of having the forge to himself, he had already re-crafted the town guards' compliment of eighty, complete with blades and armor, leather and steel; that got the town's attention. There wasn't a day gone by that Nick hadn't been at the forge, filling out requests one by one, until this day.
Nick's supplies of coal and metal had run dry, and his supplier had been stricken with a rather bad case of the Orcish Harrowing, leaving Nick with a cold forge and a cold shop.
From his rare visits to The Stag's Head, the local tavern/inn, the information regarding a guild named Aerenthis was given to him; supposedly they pass out open invitations to quests that they forge themselves. This intrigued Nick, if not only for the means of obtaining materials for his work.
Nick never really used his own creations before, so it was quite odd for Nick to be strapping a bastard sword to his back, as well as donning a mixture of leather and metal: Leather vambraces studded with steel, greaves of steel, and a torso wrapped in leather. Nick suited it well.
Nick had spent his third day lodging at the Aerenthis, two days more than he intended. He had traveled here seeking potential information on where to obtain materials for his smithy; he couldn't deny the slight desire he had for the adventure, though the lack of tasks irritated him. It shouldn't be too hard to find a cave or something, isn't it?
Nick was sat in the back courtyard by his lonesome, his bastard sword laying across his lap. He seemed to be holding it firm with his right hand, while his left seemed to be grasping an etching tool, seemingly scratching intricate detailings into the flat sides of the blades. It appeared he was focused into what he was doing, deliberately annoying the elvish man greeting him from afar; that man annoyed him so greatly. | Name: Nick Emerald Grant
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Race: Human
Height: 6"2
Hair color: Jet black
Eye color: Rare, rich emerald eyes. Dotted with random flecks of turquoise and teal.
General Appearance: Nick tends to maintain his appearance only when needed. He tends to be seen clothed in attire that looks a size or two too large for him, the sleeves and ends of his clothing hiding his hands and feet at times.
When in a formal setting, Nick will adone what could be described at dress-robes, something that is usually worn by more older characters, yet Nick seems to pull it off well.
When in a work environment - that being at a smithy - Nick is hassled by clothing, and sheds the top half, leaving him bare chested but still wearing toughened pants.
Personality: Nick has been weathered and pounded into a cold, introverted and comes off as a rather rude and unkind character. He has little to no people he can call his friends, having not much else to do other than work.
Having insomnia doesn't do his attitude justice either.
History/Backstory: When Nick was a child, that moment was his last memory of pure innocence before he was forced out of alignment with the world.
He was no older than seven when his father came home, stinking of ale and drunk on such alcohol. Him and Nick's mother had been growing more estranged by the day, and this night, his father decided to act out on this.
Nick was dragged out of his slumber and brought to the living room, where his weeping mother lay on the ground, her clothes appeared to have been attacked. Nick was tied to the hearth, and was made to watch what happened next. His father stripped the mother of her clothing, and continuously defiled her over and over again, Nick being ever watchful in horror and fear, his mind growing more scarred by the second.
The father was finally finished with her after two hours of suffering, and moved to Nick. His hands grasped Nick's throat, forcefully strangling the strength and life out of the little boy.
Nick's hands were tied yes, but his father did it half-heartedly, the rope loosening as he struggled. His hands were grasping a fire-poker, and with the will of a master soldier, Nick managed to find the strength in him to lash out with the fire-poker in hand, goring the side of his father's face, him instantly dropping Nick to cup his head wound with a ghastly shriek. Nick didn't stop there. He attacked again, this time the back of the head; his father stopped screaming. He attacked again; his father started twitching. He attacked again; his father stopped twitching.
His mother had not survived the brutal defiling his father gave her, the neck twisted far more than it should have.
It was three days until the local guard found Nick leaning against the hearth, clothes and face half-smeared with his father's blood.
Fast-forward seven years onwards, a local smithy visits the town's orphanage; the reason being he wishes to take on an apprentice. Nick was chosen to learn the smithy business, as well as the trade of being a merchantman.
Now reaching the age of seventeen, he as took over as master smithy of what he named Hearthfire; the name taken from his past experiences.
Abilities (No OP, please!): Nick has no supernatural abilities. He only has the practiced skills learnt throughout his years, such as smithing, bartering, and lock-picking.
Special Mentions(if any): Nick has chronic Insomnia, meaning it is rare that Nick has a night in which he doesn't wake up having recurring nightmares from his past. He usually evades sleeping by staying up days at a time, using herbal remedies and concoctions to keep his fatigue at bay. |
5,630 | 154 | 2 | 227 | 6 | As the dawn had approached, light flooded the forest that Aurain had found shelter in. As the light bounced from branch to trunk to leaf, it eventually bounced to her face, where it shone brightly. Warmth and light had greeted her as she stirred from the sturdy tree branch she had slept upon, careful not to fall off and land terribly and painfully on the cold, hard ground. She yawned and brought her hands to her face, where she rubbed her eyes against the side of her index finger for a slight moment before hesitantly opening them to see the start of a new day. When she opened her eyes, the light reflected against the crystalline color but caused her to close her eyes tightly against the intensity of the sun. The ferret was nuzzled against her neck, the tips of the ferret’s fur lightly stabbing into her neck and had rubbed his head against her jaw, causing a slight smile to curve upon her otherwise stiff lips, causing Aurain lightly touched the top of the ferret’s head and rub. Her blade and her bow sat carefully on her back, as she slept on her side to avoid having to remove her weapons or getting stabbed during her sleep with her own weapons.
Ain, the ferret, nibbled on her cheeks, as a means to get her to continue walking for what seemed like an eternity for the both of them. She took a moment to take a good look at her surroundings and sat upright whilst doing so, slowly inching forwards to the point where any movement would cause her to fall off, she leapt forwards and landed on her feet carefully, albeit it didn’t stop a thorn from puncturing the sole of her foot. Since she’d suffered through worse, the most she did was stumble and then raise her foot slightly off the floor where Ain slithered off her neck and jumped down, sitting on his hind legs to remove the thorn. After he had done so, she turned her back to the direction of the light and had started walking, treading lightly upon a path well worn-out over the years with Ain following closely by. Eventually, Ain had jumped onto the back of her trench coat and climbed towards the collar, where he curled around her neck and started to nap.
After an hour or two of simply treading, she picked up the pace and had started jogging, which eventually turned to running, managing to avoid small objects littered on the path. Eventually, she had stopped to see a sign with the words “Aurum Town” with an arrow pointed down the path. 'Interesting,' she thought and had continued running down. She had never heard of the town and was interested to see what it had in stock, she may be able to get certain potions or scrolls.
As she ran, she was so caught up in her thoughts that she had forgotten to see the thick tree root situated in the middle of the path, causing her to trip over and fall face first into the ground with Ain flying through the air in front of her. Ain had managed to land on his feet perfectly fine; however, she had cuts and bruises over her face, palms and feet. Just below her left eye, a deep yet small cut had appeared and her right lower jaw was bruised heavily, her palms and top of her feet were covered in gashes with pieces of dead leaves and broken branches lodged within the cuts. She groaned and shut her eyes tightly for a moment, before looking down the path. Amidst the light, she had managed to see the faint outlines of a cluster of buildings with a billow of smoke floated through the air above the buildings. She had managed to get up, stumbling from side to side before getting onto her feet. As she had gotten up, blood had gushed out of her wounds. She swallowed a cry of pain before starting to run towards the outline.
Aurain continued running, biting back painful groans as blotches of blood left a trail behind her. She bit onto her lower lip hard to distract herself, managing to get herself to the gate before sharply turning her head to see a sign with the words “Aerenthis Guild” engraved into the wooden board. The villagers gasped at the sight of her but they didn’t offer any help due to her appearance. 'Might as well take a risk,' she thought to herself as she felt Ain scramble on her back to get to her neck. Whilst making her way towards to the guild, her pace eventually fell to walking speed, where she managed to get in front of the gate before she fell to her knees, and then her chest with a loud thudding noise. Her surrounding shifted to a blurry outline and she closed her eyes, her body slightly shuddering as she fell into a dreamlike state. | Name: Aurain (often called Rain for short)
Gender: Female
Age: 17, on the verge of 18
Race: Half-elvish, half-human.
Height: 5’8.
Hair colour: A shade darker than mahogany.
Eye colour: Crystalline blue.
General Appearance: Aurain is a young girl, in the midst of her teenage years, coming close to adulthood. With a slim, somewhat hourglass figure, she manages to carry herself gracefully to her destination. While her skin is pale and facial features are all small due to her body shape and inheritance, her lips are colored a rosy pink, with slight signs of dimples for the rare times she smiles, her eyes a shining crystalline blue with long eyelashes and thin eyebrows. Her hair is short and straight, barely sitting atop her shoulders alongside the slight hint of a fringe that often sits on the right side of her face, her hair shaded a color slightly darker than mahogany. To go with her pale complexion, she often wears black clothing and accessories, albeit it may change depending on the occasion. She strolls the woods with a black blouse that is tightly buttoned up to just slightly above her breasts, where a slight part of her cleavage is shown, alongside a somewhat loose frilled collar. A pair of shorts hangs on her hips, as though it may fall at anytime but is reinforced with many strands of stray belts to keep the shorts from falling, where the shorts do not reveal her long legs, the shorts run down, covering all until just below her kneecap. Above all, sits a large yet fitting trench coat upon her body, embezzled with an assortment of random strands of stray belts across the back in a very similar fashion to her shorts. The trench coat is made from light materials as a high amount of weight could harm her physique, which in turn covers the majority of her body with her feet being the only body part not covered by the coat, instead they are covered with a light padding of black dyed cotton to ease the burden of having to run through the forest, even if it is not a lot as opposed to actual hardened material to save her feet from being punctured by thorns or glass pieces.
Personality: At a first glance, she comes off as a very quiet, antisocial and cold, to a certain degree, young lady due to her clothing choice, something she herself did despite her parents attempting to get her to change before she had left the town. Due to certain events that had taken with the other children and her teacher, she often tends to stay away from people, mainly men as she is easily frightened by them. When needed, she may put this fear aside for the sake of trading with a merchant man but will often act more cold than usual to men, to a point where she may even taunt them. When getting to know people, it is as though she’s a completely different person, with smiles and a warm atmosphere circling around her.
History/Backstory: Hailing from an old town in the far north, Aurain was born to parents of different races, her mother an elf and her father a human. Her whole life she had been taunted by the other villagers and their children, as she was an outsider, so to say, due to her parents being of two different races. Because of her having come from a traditional town, such an act was once prohibited but due to these acts occurring more than usual, the prohibition was dismissed. Albeit there were youngsters much like her, she didn’t feel right with them, she didn’t feel anything towards them and then had a set goal in mind, causing her to turn her back on everyone, those of which that taunted her and those of which she had loved greatly. When turning 7, she had learnt of an odd ability, being able to conjure elements of all kinds with simple hand gestures. When the chief had learnt of her new ability, she was sent to a teacher that had specialized in such teachings and spent what seemed like countless years mastering the arts, but it wasn’t enough. What she had learnt through all those years were just the basics, she had to embark on a mission to find the power to continue, to be able to protect herself and the people she was to meet on her journey, and has been wandering astray in the woods for two years now. But during this journey, she has managed to find a small creature to assist her, a white ferret that is often seen around her neck napping the day away.
Abilities (No OP, please !): As an elementalist, she has the ability to conjure the elements with the magic that courses through her body, being able to cast the brightest of flames down to the coldest of chills. Her abilities range from fire, ice, water, thunder, earth and air, with more to learn as these are simply basics. Her abilities do not last for a long time, nor do they inflict the greatest of damage. Using these elements and the magic within her could cause various side effects and must be able to restrict the amount of magic used unless she were to suffer a lack of magic needed for her body to continue respiring. Alongside the magic, she has been trained with a blade and a bow, being able to fend off for herself if needed, and if her magic should fail against whatever opponent she is to go for but does poorly in both, as well as her magic skill not coming close to what is required of any and every mage.
Special Mentions(if any): Could be a victim to violent outbreaks. After suffering a lack of magic, it is essential for her to rest as she needs to calm her body temperature and regain whatever magic she had spent over a certain duration of time. The ferret that naps on her neck is wild and will hiss whoever approaches Aurain, but will often nibble on her neck when it feels as though something is coming her way. |
5,631 | 154 | 3 | 1,626 | 442 | The sun crept through the sky as lazily as Spirit's walking was towards where his mistress led. "C'mon, it's not very far" she clicked encouragingly and stroked his neck a little, though he was stubborn if anything and refused to move any faster, which drew a sigh from the girl's lips, coral and speaking of life in the warm morning air. She loved the sun, and its warmth, and being outside in general and it was her favourite part about being born and raised in a trading town. She'd often accompany family on trips to the store, but that would be about it, before she was locked up again and immersed in her studies. She studied pretty hard, as was expected of most, if not all elves. And she was no different. No, Freija was definitely no exception.
Though in one thing, she did differ from her family,and most of her siblings, and that was her lust for adventure. The only other person she'd thought who even came close to mirroring her in that fact was her older brother, Daeron, one of two. When they were little, they'd often joke and laugh about running away into the woods with Spirit to start their own adventure. And she thought of him as she made her way, past cobblestone and dirt and sand and whatever else led her to the guild, and it made her glow with the warmth, now inside as well as out. Her brother's image and voice played in her mind, and how he used to taunt and tease her about being too soft for adventure, and how his hair and eyes, matching hers down to the very last strand though his was definitely shorter, messy and ending a little above his shoulders, would light up in laughter when he played with her. Her brother would almost be her most favourite person in the whole world, if she were to have one. He was everything she wanted to be, within adventure as well as without.
Whilst she was lost in daydreaming how it'd be like if he could come with her, were he not doing as their parents' bidding and being the middle son of the children, learning the ways of the trade and getting prepared to be married off at his 19 years of human age as well as her oldest brother and his 22, she hadn't noticed just how close the guild was, and was surprised when the gate manifested itself off in the distance. She grabbed the horse's reigns a little tighter and nervousness was evident for about a split-second in her voice, though quickly dispelled, "There it is, Spirit! I...we have to get there. I hope we're not late, I really don't."
They'd been going a little bit, for her parents lived on the other side of town, further away from the guild, and had to make their way through crowded streets, as busy as always in the morning, and that's what took her as long. It was chaotic to a degree, walking through with a horse. You'd think they'd organised some sort of system for those on horseback but alas, though even their guard was equipped with the finest weapons from the finest smithy and the finest eyes that side of the region, they still couldn't see a way to make it easier and less traumatic for the animals and people alike.
It would save a surprising amount of trouble. Heh, would give them less jobs to do and an easier time being rendered redundant, though, too.
Regardless, she pressed on, picking up a bit of speed on a light trot on her horse as they walked past trees hanging down as if to meet them on the path they trod on, with her hands gripping the reigns ever firmer, and firmer still. She tossed her head back and freed the hood of the dark green cloak she'd been wearing from her head and to pool at the nape of her neck, letting her light hair catch the light and finally be able to sway in the breeze like she liked best, though tied back in a high ponytail as it usually ended up being. She adjusted her bangs with a quick swipe through, and urged Spirit faster, and since it took a little bit to get him out of his morning daze every morning, she had to even give him more than the usual number of gentle kicking to get him to move. Drafting horses were built to carry weight, and he had no problem with that, but they weren't built for speed in particular, or to be particularly responsive early in the morning, Freija was coming to find out.
Her heart leapt when the gate approached, its iron designs and the path beyond, and she arched her back and stuck her chest out proud as they walked past, like the noble she'd wished to be for quite a while. It was often her daydreaming she was the commander of some ranks, on her high horse, riding past for all to admire. Though it didn't take long before she was stopped dead in her tracks and had to pull back the reigns. A figure lay at the entrance of the guild, collapsed on the floor and not moving very much either, and it worried her seeing someone look so...collapsed. It didn't even look like a person with all the clothing it wore, and she had no idea what race or even if it was still moving, but a big lump covered in a dark trench-coat was not in the ordinary, and her curiosity got the better of her, and she did decide to check it out.
Spirit wasn't un-used to his mistress just randomly choosing to dismount wherever and whenever, because even when she was learning to ride she did several times for no apparent reason and though it bothered him, he'd gotten used to it, so he held still as always and received a loving cuddle from her as she approached the body on foot, reigns in hand though and guiding the stallion closer. He was at least 17 hands high, as most Clydesdale tend to be, and equally as heavy, but she had little worry about where his feathered hooves landed. He was careful, and there was a certain bond between them. He knew when to stop, or go, just by how her body tensed. They'd been together for the better part of his life, after all.
Freija stopped just before the figure on the ground, kneeling over and nudging it with her hand, and then pushing it slightly, with a voice soft and worried to a degree, though a definite childlike curiosity came through as well. "Hey....hey, are you...alive? Are you...okay?" | Name: Freija Fey Kiraiian (Of the Kiraiian bloodline)
Gender: Female
Age: 17 (human years)
Race: Elven
Height: 5’6”
Hair colour: Strawberry blonde
Eye colour: Light blue
General Appearance: The first thing you’d notice about Freija would be her hair, if you weren’t looking her right in the face. A light strawberry blonde, her hair falls (more bounces, really, with the health and life it contains, almost a feature of most men and women of the Kiraiian blood) to her mid back and is poker-straight for the most part, though the ends of odd strands tend to fall in curls. Razor-slashed bangs fall over her left eye and she usually has to pin them back when she works. Her eyes, for that matter, are clear and the slightest blue, not to the point of being icy however. They contrast with her hair, but not with her skin, which remains pale. If you’d notice, she actually has an intricate floral design running down her temple, all the way down the right side of her body, to her ankles, like a birthmark in a tan peach/rose colour that looks natural against the colour of her skin. She stands at 5’6 and is built delicate like most elves, to the point of being almost light and weightless when she moves, and aids her in getting away should the situation call.
Her attire mainly consists of flowing gowns on special occasions, though she’s found in breeches and riding boots and not-as-dressy tunics for everyday use with her hair tied back in a ponytail with a roll of lavender ribbon she always seems to carry.
Personality: Lively doesn’t even begin to describe Freija. She’s bouncy, flirty, and her pride can get the better of her more often than not. A definite people person, she goes at every opportunity to make contact with anyone and everyone, verbally or otherwise. She could be considered friendly, but that’s just how she likes it to be. For herself to be easily approachable.
Not as superficially, she runs pretty deep with emotions and has the ability to empathise should need require, though her patience can tend to be short if someone doesn’t take heed of what she’s saying. Essential qualities in a healer: To be able to understand the pain, need and want of the patients she’s presented. A love for animals, especially the horse she owns.
Her downfalls would happen to be the worldly flaws of everyone else. She’s incredibly envious though she’d never admit it, and smile and laugh though backbiting’s another sin befalling her. Her pride comes into play as well and she can end up being the slightest bit narcissistic when not careful. She’s greedy if presented something, and if she favours it, will thirst for more and do whatever to get it in her power.
(More to come when I’m less tired ahahaha)
History/Backstory: Freija had nothing to complain about growing up. Nothing of note, anyway. Her family came to the town and through business there, grew closer to the humans, dwarves and other races that inhabited it and drew out of their shells soon enough. The only time she’d ever remembered being scarred was when a relative was killed off by a more animalistic race over some dispute she thought was utterly petty when the news had reached her. Though she wasn’t the closest to them, she still grew frightened, and wary of said race. More than her parents, she spent her life learning from her aunt, a herbalist, who taught her everything she knows to date, but also leaving her quite a sheltered child because of the time she devoted to studies. Her over-eagerness for life outside her childhood comes from being cooped up for so long and craving and thirsting for the outside world, and hence fuels her charming disposition and ability to befriend most anyone willing to give her a try.
Unfortunately, this leaves her very, very naïve, even as a young adult she’s coming to be, and quite the ‘damsel in distress’ in most situations.
The reason for her coming to the guild was simple, though perhaps not one her parents particularly agreed with. She wanted, as always, to taste more of the outside world. To explore the different areas of the region and live out 'the dream' of every teenager with a wandering heart and spirit at that age.
Abilities (No OP, please!): Skilled at equestrian sport and an archer best fit on horseback, though her main powers lie with her healing abilities and so knowledge of what herbs do what, and archery was taken up more in self defense. Magic is included in her healing though barely ever used by her if a herb can’t do the trick. Can perform basic damaging spells though she plans to work on those at the guild because they only wound, never enough. She’s absolutely useless with anything other than a bow and arrow, and would sooner end up hurting herself than anyone else if given a weapon to use.
Special Mentions(if any): Owns a drafting horse she calls Spirit. A black stallion of 6 who’s been with her for quite a long time now, and in the prime of his ‘career’. Parents got him for her as a present and they’ve been inseparable since. |
5,632 | 154 | 4 | 1,668 | 11 | The intricate etchings that Nick was engraving into his blade were beginning to take shape; both sides having small grooves etched in, though they were barely visable at a simple glance. Most likely the etchings will be visible once it has tasted battle with something or someone.
"Master Grant!" Nick's eyes darted up to the elf man, briefly remembering his name as Adrian. The human stood up from the cobblestone ground, returning his sword to its sheath. The elf continued, "We require your assistance at the gate. There is an elf who is hurt, we need you to carry her inside." Nick contained the sigh of annoyance, nodding his head indicating the elf to go on ahead of him. Rather than taking the stairs and crossing through the junction into the building, Nick simply cut across the courtyard, reaching the side exit, looking above him. Thanks to the years in the smithy, it wasn't difficult for him to secure a grip on the wooden balcony, and pull himself over, throwing his feet over and landing on the panel flooring.
Now on stable ground again, Nick made haste to the guild gates, seeing the Mistress of the guild and her pet elf, looking down at a second elf currently unconscious on the ground, with a third elf busy checking whether it was alive or not.
"Move." Nick ordered the dwarf and elf, as he strode over to inspect the situation. The mistress turned, quickly stepping back, the elf Adrian taking longer to respond.
The female elf looming over the unconscious one appeared rather young, the curiosity and slight fear apparent on her face. The human knelt down on the other side of the unconscious elf, inspecting her condition with his eyes.
The stench of blood pooling strangled his nostrils, having to turn his head from the scent.
"She has multiple lacerations on her hands and feet; there's also one under her eye that needs tending to. Any of you have healing remedies? Herbs? Potions?" Nick's voice was heavily accented, most likely of english descent, furthermore making his tone and words seem more of an order than a request.
"We have bandages and suturing equipment inside, but we must-"
"Get her inside yes I know, don't remind me like i'm an idiot." Nick interrupted the elf, reaching out to place the unconscious elf-girl's hands inwards, resting them on herself, as Nick slid his arms underneath her shoulders and the backs of her knees.
True to what is said about the elves, she weighed little to nothing, and proved no difficulty to Nick as he lifted her body off the ground, an arm already drooping off her and flailing in the air as he stood.
"Go." Nick ordered, Adrian taking a fraction of a moment to understand what he meant, before leading the way towards the infirmary, where the elf in his arms could be tended to. | Name: Nick Emerald Grant
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Race: Human
Height: 6"2
Hair color: Jet black
Eye color: Rare, rich emerald eyes. Dotted with random flecks of turquoise and teal.
General Appearance: Nick tends to maintain his appearance only when needed. He tends to be seen clothed in attire that looks a size or two too large for him, the sleeves and ends of his clothing hiding his hands and feet at times.
When in a formal setting, Nick will adone what could be described at dress-robes, something that is usually worn by more older characters, yet Nick seems to pull it off well.
When in a work environment - that being at a smithy - Nick is hassled by clothing, and sheds the top half, leaving him bare chested but still wearing toughened pants.
Personality: Nick has been weathered and pounded into a cold, introverted and comes off as a rather rude and unkind character. He has little to no people he can call his friends, having not much else to do other than work.
Having insomnia doesn't do his attitude justice either.
History/Backstory: When Nick was a child, that moment was his last memory of pure innocence before he was forced out of alignment with the world.
He was no older than seven when his father came home, stinking of ale and drunk on such alcohol. Him and Nick's mother had been growing more estranged by the day, and this night, his father decided to act out on this.
Nick was dragged out of his slumber and brought to the living room, where his weeping mother lay on the ground, her clothes appeared to have been attacked. Nick was tied to the hearth, and was made to watch what happened next. His father stripped the mother of her clothing, and continuously defiled her over and over again, Nick being ever watchful in horror and fear, his mind growing more scarred by the second.
The father was finally finished with her after two hours of suffering, and moved to Nick. His hands grasped Nick's throat, forcefully strangling the strength and life out of the little boy.
Nick's hands were tied yes, but his father did it half-heartedly, the rope loosening as he struggled. His hands were grasping a fire-poker, and with the will of a master soldier, Nick managed to find the strength in him to lash out with the fire-poker in hand, goring the side of his father's face, him instantly dropping Nick to cup his head wound with a ghastly shriek. Nick didn't stop there. He attacked again, this time the back of the head; his father stopped screaming. He attacked again; his father started twitching. He attacked again; his father stopped twitching.
His mother had not survived the brutal defiling his father gave her, the neck twisted far more than it should have.
It was three days until the local guard found Nick leaning against the hearth, clothes and face half-smeared with his father's blood.
Fast-forward seven years onwards, a local smithy visits the town's orphanage; the reason being he wishes to take on an apprentice. Nick was chosen to learn the smithy business, as well as the trade of being a merchantman.
Now reaching the age of seventeen, he as took over as master smithy of what he named Hearthfire; the name taken from his past experiences.
Abilities (No OP, please!): Nick has no supernatural abilities. He only has the practiced skills learnt throughout his years, such as smithing, bartering, and lock-picking.
Special Mentions(if any): Nick has chronic Insomnia, meaning it is rare that Nick has a night in which he doesn't wake up having recurring nightmares from his past. He usually evades sleeping by staying up days at a time, using herbal remedies and concoctions to keep his fatigue at bay. |
5,633 | 154 | 5 | 227 | 6 | She managed to notice that because of her attempts in trying to distract herself from the main source of pain by biting her lower lip, she managed to create a small puncture in her lower lip. In her current condition, she was unable to do anything but instead managed entered a dreamlike trance for a mere few seconds before she could feel the pain surging throughout her body as the pain surged from head to toe, the vibration of something similar to a stampede due to all of the people around her constantly shuffling and moving about forced her body to tremble as well. She could head the voices and the mutters around her, and in that moment, one of her eyes opened, revealing the hazy surrounding around her.
Growing up, she could never take wounds without crying nor could she stand them which often made her burst into tears because she couldn’t handle it. She attempted to go on this journey in hopes of strengthening her physique and mentality, but having gone away from home for nearly two years now, she hasn’t made any progress in anything. Her physique didn’t help this whatsoever, as she was and is easily cut and easily bruised. In this case, what should’ve been only simple, slight scratches and tiny bruised doubled into great gashes and heavy wounds.
With her eye open, she took notice of a young elf by her side, a sort of blonde hair from what she could see with a single eye, but due to the blood loss, even that sight was blurry and fading quickly. It felt as though tremors ran through the ground as another person had walked towards her, she could faintly hear a deep voice and something about herbs and bandages. At that point, she felt the urge to break into tears but had no energy of doing so, so she closed her eye and focused on hearing. The small ferret slipped off her neck and hissed at the young man taking Aurain’s limp body but after a short moment, it noticed the intentions behind lifting her body.
Ain then looked at the young elf who had first come to try and figure whether the little ferret’s companion was dead or alive and leapt onto her, visibly shaking in fear as it didn’t understand what to do at this point, having never seen his companion react this way. Meanwhile, as her hands were placed onto her body and as she was lifted up, a slight groan of pain escaped her lips due to the placement of her hands, as at any point, any bodily movement made by her could possibly cause further pain or possibly widen the gashes. The only thought that ran through her head was ‘I wish I didn’t inherit my mother’s delicacy’ or something along the lines, as this condition of hers is due to her mother and her mother’s childish acts as she grew up, prior to meeting her father, having taken numerous and countless different potions and concoctions from the Alchemists’ store in her hometown.
Aurain felt the urge to scream internally as she felt the dead leaves and pieces of broken branches stab at her muscles and skin, creating a burning sensation within the cuts. She then re-opened her eye and glanced at the young man handling her tiny body and slightly parted her lips, in hopes of saying something but was unable to do so, as she was afraid of ending up in tears, something she strived to hide away from strangers. Rather than saying something and having one hand still on her body rather than flailing about as though it had finally found freedom, it crept towards the young man’s chest and poked lightly, in hopes of having got his attention but found herself poking hardly against his chest.
She thought it was time to don the personality she had been working on for years, and managed spend whatever strength left in her body to mutter two simple, and what she believed to be effective, words: “hurry up.” | Name: Aurain (often called Rain for short)
Gender: Female
Age: 17, on the verge of 18
Race: Half-elvish, half-human.
Height: 5’8.
Hair colour: A shade darker than mahogany.
Eye colour: Crystalline blue.
General Appearance: Aurain is a young girl, in the midst of her teenage years, coming close to adulthood. With a slim, somewhat hourglass figure, she manages to carry herself gracefully to her destination. While her skin is pale and facial features are all small due to her body shape and inheritance, her lips are colored a rosy pink, with slight signs of dimples for the rare times she smiles, her eyes a shining crystalline blue with long eyelashes and thin eyebrows. Her hair is short and straight, barely sitting atop her shoulders alongside the slight hint of a fringe that often sits on the right side of her face, her hair shaded a color slightly darker than mahogany. To go with her pale complexion, she often wears black clothing and accessories, albeit it may change depending on the occasion. She strolls the woods with a black blouse that is tightly buttoned up to just slightly above her breasts, where a slight part of her cleavage is shown, alongside a somewhat loose frilled collar. A pair of shorts hangs on her hips, as though it may fall at anytime but is reinforced with many strands of stray belts to keep the shorts from falling, where the shorts do not reveal her long legs, the shorts run down, covering all until just below her kneecap. Above all, sits a large yet fitting trench coat upon her body, embezzled with an assortment of random strands of stray belts across the back in a very similar fashion to her shorts. The trench coat is made from light materials as a high amount of weight could harm her physique, which in turn covers the majority of her body with her feet being the only body part not covered by the coat, instead they are covered with a light padding of black dyed cotton to ease the burden of having to run through the forest, even if it is not a lot as opposed to actual hardened material to save her feet from being punctured by thorns or glass pieces.
Personality: At a first glance, she comes off as a very quiet, antisocial and cold, to a certain degree, young lady due to her clothing choice, something she herself did despite her parents attempting to get her to change before she had left the town. Due to certain events that had taken with the other children and her teacher, she often tends to stay away from people, mainly men as she is easily frightened by them. When needed, she may put this fear aside for the sake of trading with a merchant man but will often act more cold than usual to men, to a point where she may even taunt them. When getting to know people, it is as though she’s a completely different person, with smiles and a warm atmosphere circling around her.
History/Backstory: Hailing from an old town in the far north, Aurain was born to parents of different races, her mother an elf and her father a human. Her whole life she had been taunted by the other villagers and their children, as she was an outsider, so to say, due to her parents being of two different races. Because of her having come from a traditional town, such an act was once prohibited but due to these acts occurring more than usual, the prohibition was dismissed. Albeit there were youngsters much like her, she didn’t feel right with them, she didn’t feel anything towards them and then had a set goal in mind, causing her to turn her back on everyone, those of which that taunted her and those of which she had loved greatly. When turning 7, she had learnt of an odd ability, being able to conjure elements of all kinds with simple hand gestures. When the chief had learnt of her new ability, she was sent to a teacher that had specialized in such teachings and spent what seemed like countless years mastering the arts, but it wasn’t enough. What she had learnt through all those years were just the basics, she had to embark on a mission to find the power to continue, to be able to protect herself and the people she was to meet on her journey, and has been wandering astray in the woods for two years now. But during this journey, she has managed to find a small creature to assist her, a white ferret that is often seen around her neck napping the day away.
Abilities (No OP, please !): As an elementalist, she has the ability to conjure the elements with the magic that courses through her body, being able to cast the brightest of flames down to the coldest of chills. Her abilities range from fire, ice, water, thunder, earth and air, with more to learn as these are simply basics. Her abilities do not last for a long time, nor do they inflict the greatest of damage. Using these elements and the magic within her could cause various side effects and must be able to restrict the amount of magic used unless she were to suffer a lack of magic needed for her body to continue respiring. Alongside the magic, she has been trained with a blade and a bow, being able to fend off for herself if needed, and if her magic should fail against whatever opponent she is to go for but does poorly in both, as well as her magic skill not coming close to what is required of any and every mage.
Special Mentions(if any): Could be a victim to violent outbreaks. After suffering a lack of magic, it is essential for her to rest as she needs to calm her body temperature and regain whatever magic she had spent over a certain duration of time. The ferret that naps on her neck is wild and will hiss whoever approaches Aurain, but will often nibble on her neck when it feels as though something is coming her way. |
5,634 | 154 | 6 | 1,626 | 442 | The man coming over didn't frighten Freija, and even as he commanded the others to move she held her ground. It didn't seem like it was directed to her, anyway, so she just looked the half-elf on the ground over, same as the man on the opposite end. "It's good they're okay. I'm actually a healer-" she began, but the voices of the people around her drowned hers out and it made her clench her fist with a little pout, albeit determined. She repeated out loud, "I'm actually a healer, so if you'd let me take a good look at her..." but it was too late and the man carrying the woman beneath her was already gone.
During this, she'd been startled by the pet ferret scrambling up her body, and though she flinched, she quickly took to soothing the animal with gentle words and even phrases in the elven tongue, almost like incantations though they most certainly weren't. She stroked over the white fur before getting to her feet and sighing as she watched the man hurry away with the woman in her arms, hoping that they were competent enough to even deal with her wounds. When they'd turned her around, she looked pretty damn severe.
"Hey, little guy. It's all okay." she cooed some more as she went back to a surprised horse. She even left a kiss on the stallion's muzzle, with a white star-shaped cut and nuzzled into his neck a little before taking him by the reign. He stood a good foot and a half or more taller than her with his head raised high so she had to put in some effort to do so. Regardless, she had one hand on the frightened ferret and the other on the reigns, quickly binding them at the opportunity she got to a post with a trough of water just beneath it, a station post for horses as it were, and fastening the reigns around the bar and giving Spirit a reassuring nod before stepping away from him and to the two people still dazed and standing there, and with the badges they wore, assuming they were important. "Excuse me, could you lead me to the master of this guild? I'd like to enroll myself as part of it, please, and was wondering for requirements, and rules, and...ah. Apologies, sincerely." | Name: Freija Fey Kiraiian (Of the Kiraiian bloodline)
Gender: Female
Age: 17 (human years)
Race: Elven
Height: 5’6”
Hair colour: Strawberry blonde
Eye colour: Light blue
General Appearance: The first thing you’d notice about Freija would be her hair, if you weren’t looking her right in the face. A light strawberry blonde, her hair falls (more bounces, really, with the health and life it contains, almost a feature of most men and women of the Kiraiian blood) to her mid back and is poker-straight for the most part, though the ends of odd strands tend to fall in curls. Razor-slashed bangs fall over her left eye and she usually has to pin them back when she works. Her eyes, for that matter, are clear and the slightest blue, not to the point of being icy however. They contrast with her hair, but not with her skin, which remains pale. If you’d notice, she actually has an intricate floral design running down her temple, all the way down the right side of her body, to her ankles, like a birthmark in a tan peach/rose colour that looks natural against the colour of her skin. She stands at 5’6 and is built delicate like most elves, to the point of being almost light and weightless when she moves, and aids her in getting away should the situation call.
Her attire mainly consists of flowing gowns on special occasions, though she’s found in breeches and riding boots and not-as-dressy tunics for everyday use with her hair tied back in a ponytail with a roll of lavender ribbon she always seems to carry.
Personality: Lively doesn’t even begin to describe Freija. She’s bouncy, flirty, and her pride can get the better of her more often than not. A definite people person, she goes at every opportunity to make contact with anyone and everyone, verbally or otherwise. She could be considered friendly, but that’s just how she likes it to be. For herself to be easily approachable.
Not as superficially, she runs pretty deep with emotions and has the ability to empathise should need require, though her patience can tend to be short if someone doesn’t take heed of what she’s saying. Essential qualities in a healer: To be able to understand the pain, need and want of the patients she’s presented. A love for animals, especially the horse she owns.
Her downfalls would happen to be the worldly flaws of everyone else. She’s incredibly envious though she’d never admit it, and smile and laugh though backbiting’s another sin befalling her. Her pride comes into play as well and she can end up being the slightest bit narcissistic when not careful. She’s greedy if presented something, and if she favours it, will thirst for more and do whatever to get it in her power.
(More to come when I’m less tired ahahaha)
History/Backstory: Freija had nothing to complain about growing up. Nothing of note, anyway. Her family came to the town and through business there, grew closer to the humans, dwarves and other races that inhabited it and drew out of their shells soon enough. The only time she’d ever remembered being scarred was when a relative was killed off by a more animalistic race over some dispute she thought was utterly petty when the news had reached her. Though she wasn’t the closest to them, she still grew frightened, and wary of said race. More than her parents, she spent her life learning from her aunt, a herbalist, who taught her everything she knows to date, but also leaving her quite a sheltered child because of the time she devoted to studies. Her over-eagerness for life outside her childhood comes from being cooped up for so long and craving and thirsting for the outside world, and hence fuels her charming disposition and ability to befriend most anyone willing to give her a try.
Unfortunately, this leaves her very, very naïve, even as a young adult she’s coming to be, and quite the ‘damsel in distress’ in most situations.
The reason for her coming to the guild was simple, though perhaps not one her parents particularly agreed with. She wanted, as always, to taste more of the outside world. To explore the different areas of the region and live out 'the dream' of every teenager with a wandering heart and spirit at that age.
Abilities (No OP, please!): Skilled at equestrian sport and an archer best fit on horseback, though her main powers lie with her healing abilities and so knowledge of what herbs do what, and archery was taken up more in self defense. Magic is included in her healing though barely ever used by her if a herb can’t do the trick. Can perform basic damaging spells though she plans to work on those at the guild because they only wound, never enough. She’s absolutely useless with anything other than a bow and arrow, and would sooner end up hurting herself than anyone else if given a weapon to use.
Special Mentions(if any): Owns a drafting horse she calls Spirit. A black stallion of 6 who’s been with her for quite a long time now, and in the prime of his ‘career’. Parents got him for her as a present and they’ve been inseparable since. |
5,635 | 154 | 7 | 1,668 | 11 | Hey! If you're a healer then stop kissing the ferret and get your arse over here! Nick yelled back out towards the pureblood, pausing in his pacing to turn back towards it. Nick's face was one of furrowment, his brow creased into a firm line, the more determined look revealing itself.
"Nick. In here." Nick turned his head back towards Adrian, who had already opened the main door to the infirmary, waiting impatiently for Nick and the girl he carried. Nick gazed down at the girl who he'd just vaguely noticed was prodding him in the chest. Her eyes barely managed to remain open, and her lips moved with a somewhat sarcastic tone, saying simply 'hurry up'. Nick couldn't help but scoff once in amusement.
"Yeah, that's what i'm trying to do. Just keep your eyes open alright? Stay conscious." While it did seem as if Nick was being courteous, he was merely instructing her to stay awake for medical reasons; trying to revive her would be a nightmare if she stopped breathing.
Regardless on whether the supposed healer was ready to follow him or not, Nick took the woman into the infirmary, the dwarf and Adrian right behind him.
The infirmary seemed sterile enough. The bed was what drew his attention first, Nick striding over to it, carefully placing the fragile elf down on the bed.
"Where is a pair of tweezers and alcohol? Her wounds need to be cleaned."
"There's a bottle of alcohol and a roll of thread and needle in that drawer, but shouldn't we wait for that healer outside?" Nick had already went over to the drawer, pulling it open and withdrawing the items he mentioned.
"Crude methods are always the better option in comparison to just waiting and letting her wounds fester."Nick's logic was indeed sound. It would be considered best if wounds were tended to immediately compared to just waiting for more professional care.
However, Nick's logic got the better of him, as he stood over the elf, pondering on actually waiting for the designated healer.
"Hey! Hurry the hell up and get in here! Magic is something we kind of need right now!" Nick yelled out towards the pure-blood, the annoyance clear in his voice. | Name: Nick Emerald Grant
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Race: Human
Height: 6"2
Hair color: Jet black
Eye color: Rare, rich emerald eyes. Dotted with random flecks of turquoise and teal.
General Appearance: Nick tends to maintain his appearance only when needed. He tends to be seen clothed in attire that looks a size or two too large for him, the sleeves and ends of his clothing hiding his hands and feet at times.
When in a formal setting, Nick will adone what could be described at dress-robes, something that is usually worn by more older characters, yet Nick seems to pull it off well.
When in a work environment - that being at a smithy - Nick is hassled by clothing, and sheds the top half, leaving him bare chested but still wearing toughened pants.
Personality: Nick has been weathered and pounded into a cold, introverted and comes off as a rather rude and unkind character. He has little to no people he can call his friends, having not much else to do other than work.
Having insomnia doesn't do his attitude justice either.
History/Backstory: When Nick was a child, that moment was his last memory of pure innocence before he was forced out of alignment with the world.
He was no older than seven when his father came home, stinking of ale and drunk on such alcohol. Him and Nick's mother had been growing more estranged by the day, and this night, his father decided to act out on this.
Nick was dragged out of his slumber and brought to the living room, where his weeping mother lay on the ground, her clothes appeared to have been attacked. Nick was tied to the hearth, and was made to watch what happened next. His father stripped the mother of her clothing, and continuously defiled her over and over again, Nick being ever watchful in horror and fear, his mind growing more scarred by the second.
The father was finally finished with her after two hours of suffering, and moved to Nick. His hands grasped Nick's throat, forcefully strangling the strength and life out of the little boy.
Nick's hands were tied yes, but his father did it half-heartedly, the rope loosening as he struggled. His hands were grasping a fire-poker, and with the will of a master soldier, Nick managed to find the strength in him to lash out with the fire-poker in hand, goring the side of his father's face, him instantly dropping Nick to cup his head wound with a ghastly shriek. Nick didn't stop there. He attacked again, this time the back of the head; his father stopped screaming. He attacked again; his father started twitching. He attacked again; his father stopped twitching.
His mother had not survived the brutal defiling his father gave her, the neck twisted far more than it should have.
It was three days until the local guard found Nick leaning against the hearth, clothes and face half-smeared with his father's blood.
Fast-forward seven years onwards, a local smithy visits the town's orphanage; the reason being he wishes to take on an apprentice. Nick was chosen to learn the smithy business, as well as the trade of being a merchantman.
Now reaching the age of seventeen, he as took over as master smithy of what he named Hearthfire; the name taken from his past experiences.
Abilities (No OP, please!): Nick has no supernatural abilities. He only has the practiced skills learnt throughout his years, such as smithing, bartering, and lock-picking.
Special Mentions(if any): Nick has chronic Insomnia, meaning it is rare that Nick has a night in which he doesn't wake up having recurring nightmares from his past. He usually evades sleeping by staying up days at a time, using herbal remedies and concoctions to keep his fatigue at bay. |
5,636 | 154 | 8 | 227 | 6 | As she listened to the young man yell for the healer, she couldn’t help but wonder what was to become of her. Everyone had seen her in a broken, messed up state after simply falling over a thick tree root, but it’s not like they knew the reasoning, for all they know, Aurain might’ve been in a fierce battle with a group of bandits! She looked up to the young man as he noticed her poking and blinked slowly prior to noticing his scoff. When she noticed it, she couldn’t help but attempt to dig her nail into his chest as she didn’t like the sound of his scoff. ‘What if I close my eyes? What will you do then?’ She thought but then ended up giving into her thoughts for what seemed like minutes, shutting them slowly. This was nowhere close enough for her to die, but it did do its fair share of damage against her.
Once placed against the bed, her eyes opened in a sleepy fashion as she gazed at the young man but then wanted his attention again after hearing him say something about the healer. She wanted to move her arm and to prod him once more, but her arm fell stiff after staying in the same position for too long and bit down onto her lip, onto the same wound which made her groan with a small stream of blood trickling down her lip and onto her chin, where it begun flowing down her neck ever so slowly.
After noticing the tweezers, she urged her other arm to move, and instead managed to point towards the tweezers. She had nothing against healers, but because this was taking longer than intended, she couldn’t help but find the simplest and fastest way out. Using tweezers and alcohol was simple and effective, and she couldn’t wait any longer. Aurain shuffled and attempted to sit up but instead caused herself more pain and blinked back the tears that were on the verge of being shed.
“Help,” she managed to mutter, her eyes now shut tightly as she felt her head spinning. Once more, she muttered the same word, a little louder this time in hopes of getting the young man to start taking the debris out of her wounds as the stinging sensation grew worse with every moment that passed by. She took matters into her own hands and once more she attempted to sit up, she managed to do so this time, after much effort. Her breathing was now audible and heavy as her hand had started inching towards the tweezers in the young man’s hand. She was visibly scared of what was to come, as she had never tried this but thought that it was straightforward, place your fingers through here an—the thought was quickly diminished to nothing as the moment she closed her hand around the tweezers, the slits on her hand had widened and like fire, her only instinctive was to drop the tweezers near instantly. Obviously, it wasn’t the smartest move and had accidently caused a tear to shed and she yelled, albeit it wasn’t a very loud yell. Aurain managed to get her knees up, where she hid her face and muttered: “get the healer or do it yourself.” Where she had found all the energy to do this, she could only thank the magic that coursed through her body. | Name: Aurain (often called Rain for short)
Gender: Female
Age: 17, on the verge of 18
Race: Half-elvish, half-human.
Height: 5’8.
Hair colour: A shade darker than mahogany.
Eye colour: Crystalline blue.
General Appearance: Aurain is a young girl, in the midst of her teenage years, coming close to adulthood. With a slim, somewhat hourglass figure, she manages to carry herself gracefully to her destination. While her skin is pale and facial features are all small due to her body shape and inheritance, her lips are colored a rosy pink, with slight signs of dimples for the rare times she smiles, her eyes a shining crystalline blue with long eyelashes and thin eyebrows. Her hair is short and straight, barely sitting atop her shoulders alongside the slight hint of a fringe that often sits on the right side of her face, her hair shaded a color slightly darker than mahogany. To go with her pale complexion, she often wears black clothing and accessories, albeit it may change depending on the occasion. She strolls the woods with a black blouse that is tightly buttoned up to just slightly above her breasts, where a slight part of her cleavage is shown, alongside a somewhat loose frilled collar. A pair of shorts hangs on her hips, as though it may fall at anytime but is reinforced with many strands of stray belts to keep the shorts from falling, where the shorts do not reveal her long legs, the shorts run down, covering all until just below her kneecap. Above all, sits a large yet fitting trench coat upon her body, embezzled with an assortment of random strands of stray belts across the back in a very similar fashion to her shorts. The trench coat is made from light materials as a high amount of weight could harm her physique, which in turn covers the majority of her body with her feet being the only body part not covered by the coat, instead they are covered with a light padding of black dyed cotton to ease the burden of having to run through the forest, even if it is not a lot as opposed to actual hardened material to save her feet from being punctured by thorns or glass pieces.
Personality: At a first glance, she comes off as a very quiet, antisocial and cold, to a certain degree, young lady due to her clothing choice, something she herself did despite her parents attempting to get her to change before she had left the town. Due to certain events that had taken with the other children and her teacher, she often tends to stay away from people, mainly men as she is easily frightened by them. When needed, she may put this fear aside for the sake of trading with a merchant man but will often act more cold than usual to men, to a point where she may even taunt them. When getting to know people, it is as though she’s a completely different person, with smiles and a warm atmosphere circling around her.
History/Backstory: Hailing from an old town in the far north, Aurain was born to parents of different races, her mother an elf and her father a human. Her whole life she had been taunted by the other villagers and their children, as she was an outsider, so to say, due to her parents being of two different races. Because of her having come from a traditional town, such an act was once prohibited but due to these acts occurring more than usual, the prohibition was dismissed. Albeit there were youngsters much like her, she didn’t feel right with them, she didn’t feel anything towards them and then had a set goal in mind, causing her to turn her back on everyone, those of which that taunted her and those of which she had loved greatly. When turning 7, she had learnt of an odd ability, being able to conjure elements of all kinds with simple hand gestures. When the chief had learnt of her new ability, she was sent to a teacher that had specialized in such teachings and spent what seemed like countless years mastering the arts, but it wasn’t enough. What she had learnt through all those years were just the basics, she had to embark on a mission to find the power to continue, to be able to protect herself and the people she was to meet on her journey, and has been wandering astray in the woods for two years now. But during this journey, she has managed to find a small creature to assist her, a white ferret that is often seen around her neck napping the day away.
Abilities (No OP, please !): As an elementalist, she has the ability to conjure the elements with the magic that courses through her body, being able to cast the brightest of flames down to the coldest of chills. Her abilities range from fire, ice, water, thunder, earth and air, with more to learn as these are simply basics. Her abilities do not last for a long time, nor do they inflict the greatest of damage. Using these elements and the magic within her could cause various side effects and must be able to restrict the amount of magic used unless she were to suffer a lack of magic needed for her body to continue respiring. Alongside the magic, she has been trained with a blade and a bow, being able to fend off for herself if needed, and if her magic should fail against whatever opponent she is to go for but does poorly in both, as well as her magic skill not coming close to what is required of any and every mage.
Special Mentions(if any): Could be a victim to violent outbreaks. After suffering a lack of magic, it is essential for her to rest as she needs to calm her body temperature and regain whatever magic she had spent over a certain duration of time. The ferret that naps on her neck is wild and will hiss whoever approaches Aurain, but will often nibble on her neck when it feels as though something is coming her way. |
5,637 | 154 | 9 | 1,626 | 442 | Wh...what! the blonde turned on her heel at the mention of a healer being called, even from inside the building now, and had to bow her apologies to the remaining of the officials before hesitating, and throwing them (well, the dwarven lady, anyway) one last glance, cursing herself under her breath and making her way into the building, following their trail down to the infirmary. It didn't take her too long to get there. Just follow a path, how hard could it have been? Though she never would have found it otherwise, if she was all by her lonesome. The man with the half-elf in his arms definitely had some knowledge of the place. Strange.
She burst through and stood at the door, panting, with her bangs falling in her eyes which shone with adrenaline and excitement, as her chest rose and fall with the breaths she took. "I heard shouting for a healer, and wanted to ask which son of a gun thought he could talk to me the way he did."
She shot a glance to the man standing by the elf, and growled, as much as possible, under her breath, before pinching the bridge of her nose and taking a deep breath before effortlessly gliding right past, nose stuck in the air and not even giving him a second thought, to the woman on the bed. She looked her over from head to toe and sighed at noticing all the little cuts and bruises, indeed wondering how someone could have gotten themselves into this case. She actually leaned forward to brush some stray strands of hair out of the patient's eyes to get a better look at her face, and clicked her tongue against the side of her cheek knowingly at the little trail of blood that ran down her cheek, even reaching with a thumb and gingerly wiping some off. "I see. I wonder how you got yourself into this mess, miss. But I'll fix you right up."
And indeed she did. Forgetting the use of magic for now, the first thing she did was to grab the tweezers and dislodge any bits of debris that had found themselves in any of the half-elf's wounds, and then tend to the cuts still bleeding, and applying pressure in the areas where needed, whilst keeping a cloth she'd grabbed and cleaned with water then wrung out from somewhere ever present and dabbing at the blood as it poured out of the places where pressure was applied. Before cleaning anything with the alcohol present, one would have to make sure the cuts stopped bleeding. And that, unfortunately, took her a while to tend to them all. She liked working by herself, and even had waved the others aside, the elf and the human who both looked quite lost.
"Where is this guild's damned healer? If not here, then they're doing a pretty bad job." she mumbled under her breath. Thankfully to her magic, she could finish up faster than normally applying pressure to all the wounds, and then proceeded to dab at with some more cloth and alcohol, breathing a tiny warning of "It'll sting." just prior and bracing herself for any outbursts the girl might have. "It'll sting, but you'll be fine. An infection however will most definitely kill you."
The wounds later had to be closed up again, and here's where the elven woman stood away from the body and shut her eyes, hands in front of her and concentration apparent on her face as her thin brow furrowed and she even hummed something soft under her breath, and with the power of thought and the murmur of something, almost like a spell but not quite under her breath, her hands made weaving movements and the wounds, ever so slowly, began to come together again and shut and seal, like stitches would have done. This was one of the easiest things an injury would call for. Healing a broken or dislocated bone, now, that was one of the definite hardest. And perhaps most painful to both her and the patient.
Though in due time, the elven woman was finished, and slumped into a nearby waiting chair with her head in her hands and a little groan, having pushed past the men in the room to get some air. She was prone to dizzy spells, and magic left her the tiniest bit woozy every time she'd applied it. It took training and clearing of her mind to get rid of the spell, which she did sit and do in said chair, even if for a couple of seconds.
It was only then she noticed the ferret still around her neck, and decided to reach out and put him down so he could find his way to the stretcher and scurry right up a leg should he want to see his mistress, with nothing more than a little smile and tired eyes, quickly regaining their clear shine though.
She said nothing to the men in the room, for she was in that state and had no need. They were busy checking on the half-elf's healing anyway. That was good. She should be taken care of. Surprisingly, the only cut she'd forgotten to tend to was the puncture in her bottom lip, out of sheer loss of focus and thinking she was finished way before, though if need be, she'd tend to it soon enough. | Name: Freija Fey Kiraiian (Of the Kiraiian bloodline)
Gender: Female
Age: 17 (human years)
Race: Elven
Height: 5’6”
Hair colour: Strawberry blonde
Eye colour: Light blue
General Appearance: The first thing you’d notice about Freija would be her hair, if you weren’t looking her right in the face. A light strawberry blonde, her hair falls (more bounces, really, with the health and life it contains, almost a feature of most men and women of the Kiraiian blood) to her mid back and is poker-straight for the most part, though the ends of odd strands tend to fall in curls. Razor-slashed bangs fall over her left eye and she usually has to pin them back when she works. Her eyes, for that matter, are clear and the slightest blue, not to the point of being icy however. They contrast with her hair, but not with her skin, which remains pale. If you’d notice, she actually has an intricate floral design running down her temple, all the way down the right side of her body, to her ankles, like a birthmark in a tan peach/rose colour that looks natural against the colour of her skin. She stands at 5’6 and is built delicate like most elves, to the point of being almost light and weightless when she moves, and aids her in getting away should the situation call.
Her attire mainly consists of flowing gowns on special occasions, though she’s found in breeches and riding boots and not-as-dressy tunics for everyday use with her hair tied back in a ponytail with a roll of lavender ribbon she always seems to carry.
Personality: Lively doesn’t even begin to describe Freija. She’s bouncy, flirty, and her pride can get the better of her more often than not. A definite people person, she goes at every opportunity to make contact with anyone and everyone, verbally or otherwise. She could be considered friendly, but that’s just how she likes it to be. For herself to be easily approachable.
Not as superficially, she runs pretty deep with emotions and has the ability to empathise should need require, though her patience can tend to be short if someone doesn’t take heed of what she’s saying. Essential qualities in a healer: To be able to understand the pain, need and want of the patients she’s presented. A love for animals, especially the horse she owns.
Her downfalls would happen to be the worldly flaws of everyone else. She’s incredibly envious though she’d never admit it, and smile and laugh though backbiting’s another sin befalling her. Her pride comes into play as well and she can end up being the slightest bit narcissistic when not careful. She’s greedy if presented something, and if she favours it, will thirst for more and do whatever to get it in her power.
(More to come when I’m less tired ahahaha)
History/Backstory: Freija had nothing to complain about growing up. Nothing of note, anyway. Her family came to the town and through business there, grew closer to the humans, dwarves and other races that inhabited it and drew out of their shells soon enough. The only time she’d ever remembered being scarred was when a relative was killed off by a more animalistic race over some dispute she thought was utterly petty when the news had reached her. Though she wasn’t the closest to them, she still grew frightened, and wary of said race. More than her parents, she spent her life learning from her aunt, a herbalist, who taught her everything she knows to date, but also leaving her quite a sheltered child because of the time she devoted to studies. Her over-eagerness for life outside her childhood comes from being cooped up for so long and craving and thirsting for the outside world, and hence fuels her charming disposition and ability to befriend most anyone willing to give her a try.
Unfortunately, this leaves her very, very naïve, even as a young adult she’s coming to be, and quite the ‘damsel in distress’ in most situations.
The reason for her coming to the guild was simple, though perhaps not one her parents particularly agreed with. She wanted, as always, to taste more of the outside world. To explore the different areas of the region and live out 'the dream' of every teenager with a wandering heart and spirit at that age.
Abilities (No OP, please!): Skilled at equestrian sport and an archer best fit on horseback, though her main powers lie with her healing abilities and so knowledge of what herbs do what, and archery was taken up more in self defense. Magic is included in her healing though barely ever used by her if a herb can’t do the trick. Can perform basic damaging spells though she plans to work on those at the guild because they only wound, never enough. She’s absolutely useless with anything other than a bow and arrow, and would sooner end up hurting herself than anyone else if given a weapon to use.
Special Mentions(if any): Owns a drafting horse she calls Spirit. A black stallion of 6 who’s been with her for quite a long time now, and in the prime of his ‘career’. Parents got him for her as a present and they’ve been inseparable since. |
5,638 | 154 | 10 | 1,668 | 11 | At last this elf healer finally managed to make herself present, stepping into the infirmary doorway, easily telling them to make way for her, which Nick easily granted in this situation. He didn't particularly care of the elf's discomfort from the way Nick spoke to her; he could care less even after the growl emanated from her.
The elf girl strode over to the stretcher where the half-blood sat, inspecting her wounds with much more professionalism and a considerably better bedside manner, though it still brought a fair share of annoyance to Nick regardless.
The elf seemed to know what she was doing, snatching the tweezers off the ground, moving to begin extracting the foreign objects out of her cuts. Nick had stepped away from the elf at work, leaning against the doorway, his arms folded across his chest.
Magic was a force unknown to him. He was aware of its existence yes, but hadn't had the personal experience firsthand, be it of a destructive nature, or a restorative nature; this would be his first glimpse of magic.
The elf had finished clearing and cleaning the wounds of the injured one, and had set the tweezers aside, taking a step back from the stretcher. It appeared to him that the elf had brought her hands together; he couldn't tell for sure as her back was facing him.
The humming noise was first to enter his senses. At first he thought it was just a psychosomatic thing, which he attempted to scratch away briefly, but when it wouldn't stop, he went back to the elf, and noticed the portray of her concentration. It seemed she was casting her restorative magic on the half-blood, already her cuts seeming to seal themselves and fade back into the skin; Nick would be lying if he said he wasn't impressed.
After the initial healing, the elf seemed to stumble, landing in a convenient chair to collect herself. The other one on the bed seemed to have recovered as well, unsurprisingly. Nick had no more business staying in this room.
"Ivanna. When you're quite ready to actually give me a quest to leave with, come find me." Nick said rather coldly to the dwarven women who had followed, before he swerved out the doorway, taking a left to return to the courtyard. | Name: Nick Emerald Grant
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Race: Human
Height: 6"2
Hair color: Jet black
Eye color: Rare, rich emerald eyes. Dotted with random flecks of turquoise and teal.
General Appearance: Nick tends to maintain his appearance only when needed. He tends to be seen clothed in attire that looks a size or two too large for him, the sleeves and ends of his clothing hiding his hands and feet at times.
When in a formal setting, Nick will adone what could be described at dress-robes, something that is usually worn by more older characters, yet Nick seems to pull it off well.
When in a work environment - that being at a smithy - Nick is hassled by clothing, and sheds the top half, leaving him bare chested but still wearing toughened pants.
Personality: Nick has been weathered and pounded into a cold, introverted and comes off as a rather rude and unkind character. He has little to no people he can call his friends, having not much else to do other than work.
Having insomnia doesn't do his attitude justice either.
History/Backstory: When Nick was a child, that moment was his last memory of pure innocence before he was forced out of alignment with the world.
He was no older than seven when his father came home, stinking of ale and drunk on such alcohol. Him and Nick's mother had been growing more estranged by the day, and this night, his father decided to act out on this.
Nick was dragged out of his slumber and brought to the living room, where his weeping mother lay on the ground, her clothes appeared to have been attacked. Nick was tied to the hearth, and was made to watch what happened next. His father stripped the mother of her clothing, and continuously defiled her over and over again, Nick being ever watchful in horror and fear, his mind growing more scarred by the second.
The father was finally finished with her after two hours of suffering, and moved to Nick. His hands grasped Nick's throat, forcefully strangling the strength and life out of the little boy.
Nick's hands were tied yes, but his father did it half-heartedly, the rope loosening as he struggled. His hands were grasping a fire-poker, and with the will of a master soldier, Nick managed to find the strength in him to lash out with the fire-poker in hand, goring the side of his father's face, him instantly dropping Nick to cup his head wound with a ghastly shriek. Nick didn't stop there. He attacked again, this time the back of the head; his father stopped screaming. He attacked again; his father started twitching. He attacked again; his father stopped twitching.
His mother had not survived the brutal defiling his father gave her, the neck twisted far more than it should have.
It was three days until the local guard found Nick leaning against the hearth, clothes and face half-smeared with his father's blood.
Fast-forward seven years onwards, a local smithy visits the town's orphanage; the reason being he wishes to take on an apprentice. Nick was chosen to learn the smithy business, as well as the trade of being a merchantman.
Now reaching the age of seventeen, he as took over as master smithy of what he named Hearthfire; the name taken from his past experiences.
Abilities (No OP, please!): Nick has no supernatural abilities. He only has the practiced skills learnt throughout his years, such as smithing, bartering, and lock-picking.
Special Mentions(if any): Nick has chronic Insomnia, meaning it is rare that Nick has a night in which he doesn't wake up having recurring nightmares from his past. He usually evades sleeping by staying up days at a time, using herbal remedies and concoctions to keep his fatigue at bay. |
5,639 | 154 | 11 | 227 | 6 | After what seemed like an eternity, the elf had appeared. Aurain didn’t take a look at her, but simply continued to keep her face at her knees, hidden from the people within the room. Her whole body stung and trembled due to the pain and the sensations that continuously ran throughout her body, with small sparks of pain close to the slits. Through everything, she heard the sound of the elf and barely looked up, taking in a tiny glance of the elf. ‘Ah, it’s her,’ she thought to herself, the one outside who had first tried to figure out whether or not Aurain had died on the spot or not. With each and every piece of debris removed from her wounds, she felt at ease, as though the burning sensation cooled off and she let out a sigh of relief against her leg, as though it had been a burden all along and had finally been lifted off of her.
The sight of the elf casting her magic reminded her of the lesson that her teacher had once taught her, many years before, of healing magic. Since it had been such a long time, the memories of the incantations and the spell had faded from her memory, but had now somewhat triggered the old memory but not fully, leaving out the most important pieces of the memory gone. That also triggered the urge to cast one of her own spells, to create a storm or an odd chill right now, but she had something else in mind.
Suddenly everything around her felt as it should have, her sight wasn’t blurry and her head wasn’t spinning, and after the elf had cast her magic, the wounds had disappeared, except for the puncture mark on her lower lip. She could feel the warmth flow through her body again and it was better when Ain had managed to get back to Aurain. She raised her head and saw the little ferret run towards her, holding her hands out and lifted the little ferret to her neck when it had reached, a small smiled playing on her lips with her dimples showing ever so slightly.
Once Ain had finished curling around her neck and nibbling her skin, she looked for the young man, as she had never gotten a clear look at him, nor did she ever get to thank him but he had already left after the elf had cast her magic. She slipped off the stretcher and stumbled at first before regaining her composure and thanked the young elf quickly, muttering a quick “thank you very much” as she walked straight past her and out of the room, in hopes of finding the young man.
She left the room and caught a faint glimpse of a shadow turning left, and she followed, quickly running after him before she noticed him. She ran towards him and walked alongside him, glancing at him and taking in his looks.
“Thank you, by the way,” she said lightly, her voice was soft, and some had even gone as far as saying that it was sugarcoated with honey, or something along the lines. “But that makes me wonder, why didn’t you take out the leaves and twigs by yourself? You could’ve done so, as opposed to waiting for the elf to come,” she questioned him, because she knew as well as he did that no matter what was to happen, the elf would’ve come along, sooner or later.
Only after Ain had nibbled on her collar bone hard enough for her notice and look down, she couldn’t help but see that one of her buttons had fallen off, the button that had managed to seal the sight of her covered breasts. Her cheeks lit up with a bright pink color as she covered herself with her trench coat tightly but then was unable to face the young man in front of her. ‘Must’ve been when I fell because of that damn tree root..’ she thought to herself. Aurain hesitantly looked up to see the young man, just from the corners of her eyes as she had twisted her head rather sharply straight after finding out about her little “incident”. | Name: Aurain (often called Rain for short)
Gender: Female
Age: 17, on the verge of 18
Race: Half-elvish, half-human.
Height: 5’8.
Hair colour: A shade darker than mahogany.
Eye colour: Crystalline blue.
General Appearance: Aurain is a young girl, in the midst of her teenage years, coming close to adulthood. With a slim, somewhat hourglass figure, she manages to carry herself gracefully to her destination. While her skin is pale and facial features are all small due to her body shape and inheritance, her lips are colored a rosy pink, with slight signs of dimples for the rare times she smiles, her eyes a shining crystalline blue with long eyelashes and thin eyebrows. Her hair is short and straight, barely sitting atop her shoulders alongside the slight hint of a fringe that often sits on the right side of her face, her hair shaded a color slightly darker than mahogany. To go with her pale complexion, she often wears black clothing and accessories, albeit it may change depending on the occasion. She strolls the woods with a black blouse that is tightly buttoned up to just slightly above her breasts, where a slight part of her cleavage is shown, alongside a somewhat loose frilled collar. A pair of shorts hangs on her hips, as though it may fall at anytime but is reinforced with many strands of stray belts to keep the shorts from falling, where the shorts do not reveal her long legs, the shorts run down, covering all until just below her kneecap. Above all, sits a large yet fitting trench coat upon her body, embezzled with an assortment of random strands of stray belts across the back in a very similar fashion to her shorts. The trench coat is made from light materials as a high amount of weight could harm her physique, which in turn covers the majority of her body with her feet being the only body part not covered by the coat, instead they are covered with a light padding of black dyed cotton to ease the burden of having to run through the forest, even if it is not a lot as opposed to actual hardened material to save her feet from being punctured by thorns or glass pieces.
Personality: At a first glance, she comes off as a very quiet, antisocial and cold, to a certain degree, young lady due to her clothing choice, something she herself did despite her parents attempting to get her to change before she had left the town. Due to certain events that had taken with the other children and her teacher, she often tends to stay away from people, mainly men as she is easily frightened by them. When needed, she may put this fear aside for the sake of trading with a merchant man but will often act more cold than usual to men, to a point where she may even taunt them. When getting to know people, it is as though she’s a completely different person, with smiles and a warm atmosphere circling around her.
History/Backstory: Hailing from an old town in the far north, Aurain was born to parents of different races, her mother an elf and her father a human. Her whole life she had been taunted by the other villagers and their children, as she was an outsider, so to say, due to her parents being of two different races. Because of her having come from a traditional town, such an act was once prohibited but due to these acts occurring more than usual, the prohibition was dismissed. Albeit there were youngsters much like her, she didn’t feel right with them, she didn’t feel anything towards them and then had a set goal in mind, causing her to turn her back on everyone, those of which that taunted her and those of which she had loved greatly. When turning 7, she had learnt of an odd ability, being able to conjure elements of all kinds with simple hand gestures. When the chief had learnt of her new ability, she was sent to a teacher that had specialized in such teachings and spent what seemed like countless years mastering the arts, but it wasn’t enough. What she had learnt through all those years were just the basics, she had to embark on a mission to find the power to continue, to be able to protect herself and the people she was to meet on her journey, and has been wandering astray in the woods for two years now. But during this journey, she has managed to find a small creature to assist her, a white ferret that is often seen around her neck napping the day away.
Abilities (No OP, please !): As an elementalist, she has the ability to conjure the elements with the magic that courses through her body, being able to cast the brightest of flames down to the coldest of chills. Her abilities range from fire, ice, water, thunder, earth and air, with more to learn as these are simply basics. Her abilities do not last for a long time, nor do they inflict the greatest of damage. Using these elements and the magic within her could cause various side effects and must be able to restrict the amount of magic used unless she were to suffer a lack of magic needed for her body to continue respiring. Alongside the magic, she has been trained with a blade and a bow, being able to fend off for herself if needed, and if her magic should fail against whatever opponent she is to go for but does poorly in both, as well as her magic skill not coming close to what is required of any and every mage.
Special Mentions(if any): Could be a victim to violent outbreaks. After suffering a lack of magic, it is essential for her to rest as she needs to calm her body temperature and regain whatever magic she had spent over a certain duration of time. The ferret that naps on her neck is wild and will hiss whoever approaches Aurain, but will often nibble on her neck when it feels as though something is coming her way. |
5,640 | 154 | 12 | 1,626 | 442 | A handful of seconds passed, perhaps a minute, maybe two at most. The elven woman in the chair with her head in her hands sat a little more straight and breathed a little sigh before clear blue eyes met the world again, curious, playful as they most usually were. They met those of the elven man from earlier, and she'd told by the shape of his ears and how his facial features echoed a definite elven bloodline. She gave him an innocent wave with a little blush and a smile just after, before straightening herself out and adjusting her green cloak around her neck a little, pulling her hair free from its lavender tie and allowing it to cascade down her shoulders to her mid-back, straight, shiny blonde locks. Trying to give your best impression for a second time would need all the physical charm one could put into it, and she had no idea what the elven man's name was either, though his deep blue eyes definitely left her reeling.
"I...suppose I would like to join this guild, please. Sir, and..." her eyes fell on the stunned-seeming dwarven woman who seemed to be murmuring something under her breath at the hot-blooded youth that was now stalking down a hallway, and she bowed her head to her and even got on a knee, as elven custom was to someone you respect.
"You give out quests, my lady? You...must be the guildmistress. It's an honour to meet you. My name is Freija Kiraiian, of the Kiraiian bloodline, and I'd be honoured if I was to be able to join your guild. For the thrill of adventure, and for the experience it will provide me to mature as an explorer, a healer or tactician, and most of all, a person, to grow into a stronger woman with more under her belt and able to provide more to the world overall."
"Well then. Welcome to Aerenthis, miss Kiraiian. I think it would be a pleasure having and being able to train a healer of your abilities." The dwarf smiled and even gave the girl, who rose to her feet from her position with two fingers to her lips in respect still. "It's strange where our resident nurse has gone to, today, however. I most certainly will have to find out why she's been slacking. Adrian over here is my right-hand man, and it actually is his job to give out quests. You report to him once you choose to take one so he can tell the others who'd like to take it, or know where you are if help needs to be sent." she gestured to the elf, who smiled through brown curtains falling down and hiding his own eyes, which made Freija run another hand through her bangs self-consciously.
"Thank you, ma'am. Miss...uh. Guildmistress..um."
"Ivanna, child."
"It is an honour, Guildmistress Ivanna,"
Her exchange with the two remained short, and all the while she had a nagging feeling. They got past formalities and agreed to register her after breakfast, which already had been served by now. Most of the guild remained oblivious to the victim who showed up at the door, going about their own business as such. Freija requested, nervously, to go and attend to Spirit who had been waiting at the station post outside. She was restless without him whenever she knew he was around, and not in a particularly appropriate place. Granted permission, she thanked the two, and proceeded to the main gate in order to move the horse to a stable box he'd been assigned to, which would mean walking him around back to the courtyard and the fields beyond.
On the way, she happened to find herself walking behind the two from earlier, the young man and the mysterious woman, and she loomed close behind, trying to make herself as unnoticeable as possible, though her curiosity got the better of her as always and she found her sensitive ears twitching, dying for some gossip, and leaving her eavesdropping as subtly as she could, with her head lowered, in all respect, should they turn back and notice her.
Who are these people, I wonder. And I wonder if the man can help me out, being new at this guild. Though that means I'll have to be nice to him. And quite frankly, he's quite uncouth, himself.
But the woman is new. She seems strange. She gives off an aura, must be magical to a degree because it's not as strong as a usual elf but I can detect traces of the elven signature there. She must be a half-breed, elf and some other race. I think she's a human.
He most certainly has no magical aura about him. Not even the kind humans can cultivate. So I'm assuming he's useless without his playthings. Interesting.
Very, very interesting. | Name: Freija Fey Kiraiian (Of the Kiraiian bloodline)
Gender: Female
Age: 17 (human years)
Race: Elven
Height: 5’6”
Hair colour: Strawberry blonde
Eye colour: Light blue
General Appearance: The first thing you’d notice about Freija would be her hair, if you weren’t looking her right in the face. A light strawberry blonde, her hair falls (more bounces, really, with the health and life it contains, almost a feature of most men and women of the Kiraiian blood) to her mid back and is poker-straight for the most part, though the ends of odd strands tend to fall in curls. Razor-slashed bangs fall over her left eye and she usually has to pin them back when she works. Her eyes, for that matter, are clear and the slightest blue, not to the point of being icy however. They contrast with her hair, but not with her skin, which remains pale. If you’d notice, she actually has an intricate floral design running down her temple, all the way down the right side of her body, to her ankles, like a birthmark in a tan peach/rose colour that looks natural against the colour of her skin. She stands at 5’6 and is built delicate like most elves, to the point of being almost light and weightless when she moves, and aids her in getting away should the situation call.
Her attire mainly consists of flowing gowns on special occasions, though she’s found in breeches and riding boots and not-as-dressy tunics for everyday use with her hair tied back in a ponytail with a roll of lavender ribbon she always seems to carry.
Personality: Lively doesn’t even begin to describe Freija. She’s bouncy, flirty, and her pride can get the better of her more often than not. A definite people person, she goes at every opportunity to make contact with anyone and everyone, verbally or otherwise. She could be considered friendly, but that’s just how she likes it to be. For herself to be easily approachable.
Not as superficially, she runs pretty deep with emotions and has the ability to empathise should need require, though her patience can tend to be short if someone doesn’t take heed of what she’s saying. Essential qualities in a healer: To be able to understand the pain, need and want of the patients she’s presented. A love for animals, especially the horse she owns.
Her downfalls would happen to be the worldly flaws of everyone else. She’s incredibly envious though she’d never admit it, and smile and laugh though backbiting’s another sin befalling her. Her pride comes into play as well and she can end up being the slightest bit narcissistic when not careful. She’s greedy if presented something, and if she favours it, will thirst for more and do whatever to get it in her power.
(More to come when I’m less tired ahahaha)
History/Backstory: Freija had nothing to complain about growing up. Nothing of note, anyway. Her family came to the town and through business there, grew closer to the humans, dwarves and other races that inhabited it and drew out of their shells soon enough. The only time she’d ever remembered being scarred was when a relative was killed off by a more animalistic race over some dispute she thought was utterly petty when the news had reached her. Though she wasn’t the closest to them, she still grew frightened, and wary of said race. More than her parents, she spent her life learning from her aunt, a herbalist, who taught her everything she knows to date, but also leaving her quite a sheltered child because of the time she devoted to studies. Her over-eagerness for life outside her childhood comes from being cooped up for so long and craving and thirsting for the outside world, and hence fuels her charming disposition and ability to befriend most anyone willing to give her a try.
Unfortunately, this leaves her very, very naïve, even as a young adult she’s coming to be, and quite the ‘damsel in distress’ in most situations.
The reason for her coming to the guild was simple, though perhaps not one her parents particularly agreed with. She wanted, as always, to taste more of the outside world. To explore the different areas of the region and live out 'the dream' of every teenager with a wandering heart and spirit at that age.
Abilities (No OP, please!): Skilled at equestrian sport and an archer best fit on horseback, though her main powers lie with her healing abilities and so knowledge of what herbs do what, and archery was taken up more in self defense. Magic is included in her healing though barely ever used by her if a herb can’t do the trick. Can perform basic damaging spells though she plans to work on those at the guild because they only wound, never enough. She’s absolutely useless with anything other than a bow and arrow, and would sooner end up hurting herself than anyone else if given a weapon to use.
Special Mentions(if any): Owns a drafting horse she calls Spirit. A black stallion of 6 who’s been with her for quite a long time now, and in the prime of his ‘career’. Parents got him for her as a present and they’ve been inseparable since. |
5,641 | 154 | 13 | 1,668 | 11 | Nick didn't wish to stay in that room any longer; too many elves in the same room. Not to mention the only one who hated socializing, he thought anyway. Nick had turned the corner once again before the recently healed elf padded up behind him like all elves seem to do, to great annoyance. Her eyes were scanning his posture and physique already; he only hoped the rumor involving Elven mating rituals was false. She opened her mouth to speak words of thanks, something Nick never was particularly fond of hearing. Pleasant emotions of gratitude and thanks, outside of the workplace of his smithy, was just alien to him, and he never took their consideration to heart.
"I was told to carry you inside, so I did. Not exactly a messiah of healing here," His raw English tone made his phrase sound more harsh than simply cold and devoid of any real emotion.
"You should be back in that infirmary bowing down to the other elf who weaved her fingers and brought your cracked shell back together, not the guy who just damn well carried you." Nick was part hoping the elf lose interest in communing with him, in hopes of pursuing potential friendship with the other and leave him be, but she pursued him further, ending up having followed him back to where the courtyard lay. She pressed on why he didn't proceed with extracting the foreign contaminants out of her wounds, the question furrowing his brow.
"Well how would YOU feel if the hands of a hardened blacksmith held a pair of tiny tweezers instead of a hammer, and they tried to extract even tinier pieces of leaf and twig out of cuts? I am not suited for first aid. Simple as. Unlike a particular HEALER somewhere in this place." Nick ended with a sneer. This elf was beginning to be annoying to a whole new level.
Nick only just noticed the ferret that was currently draped along her shoulder height was actually alive, and seemed to bite her on the collar bone. She made no flinch in pain so he assumed this was their way of communicating. He did however understand why the ferret bit her where it bit, as upon her looking down...She began to freak; with good reason of course.
That one button must've been guarding the sight of her cleavage, and due to his respect as a man, he averted his eyes for multiple reasons, mainly because being labelled a pervert wouldn't do good for potential quest-giving. Her figure moved, assumingly covering herself with the coat she bore, allowing him to turn his head again. She now had most of her back turned to him, her head twisted to the side afterwards. Nick just shook his head with dismissal, and walked on back to his previous location next to the rather intricately made set of wooden stairs ignoring the half-blood's predicament.
"Whatever. Leave me to myself and I'll do the same for you. Get someone to find me when they break for Dinner." Nick said dismissively, before leaping over the steps and seating himself on the cobblestone ground, taking his bastard sword off of his back, returning to what he was previously doing with his engraving tool the blade face.
Sorry I took an age to respond. Rough and unsettling times were stricken upon me. I'll try to respond frequently from now on. A thousand pardons. | Name: Nick Emerald Grant
Gender: Male
Age: 20
Race: Human
Height: 6"2
Hair color: Jet black
Eye color: Rare, rich emerald eyes. Dotted with random flecks of turquoise and teal.
General Appearance: Nick tends to maintain his appearance only when needed. He tends to be seen clothed in attire that looks a size or two too large for him, the sleeves and ends of his clothing hiding his hands and feet at times.
When in a formal setting, Nick will adone what could be described at dress-robes, something that is usually worn by more older characters, yet Nick seems to pull it off well.
When in a work environment - that being at a smithy - Nick is hassled by clothing, and sheds the top half, leaving him bare chested but still wearing toughened pants.
Personality: Nick has been weathered and pounded into a cold, introverted and comes off as a rather rude and unkind character. He has little to no people he can call his friends, having not much else to do other than work.
Having insomnia doesn't do his attitude justice either.
History/Backstory: When Nick was a child, that moment was his last memory of pure innocence before he was forced out of alignment with the world.
He was no older than seven when his father came home, stinking of ale and drunk on such alcohol. Him and Nick's mother had been growing more estranged by the day, and this night, his father decided to act out on this.
Nick was dragged out of his slumber and brought to the living room, where his weeping mother lay on the ground, her clothes appeared to have been attacked. Nick was tied to the hearth, and was made to watch what happened next. His father stripped the mother of her clothing, and continuously defiled her over and over again, Nick being ever watchful in horror and fear, his mind growing more scarred by the second.
The father was finally finished with her after two hours of suffering, and moved to Nick. His hands grasped Nick's throat, forcefully strangling the strength and life out of the little boy.
Nick's hands were tied yes, but his father did it half-heartedly, the rope loosening as he struggled. His hands were grasping a fire-poker, and with the will of a master soldier, Nick managed to find the strength in him to lash out with the fire-poker in hand, goring the side of his father's face, him instantly dropping Nick to cup his head wound with a ghastly shriek. Nick didn't stop there. He attacked again, this time the back of the head; his father stopped screaming. He attacked again; his father started twitching. He attacked again; his father stopped twitching.
His mother had not survived the brutal defiling his father gave her, the neck twisted far more than it should have.
It was three days until the local guard found Nick leaning against the hearth, clothes and face half-smeared with his father's blood.
Fast-forward seven years onwards, a local smithy visits the town's orphanage; the reason being he wishes to take on an apprentice. Nick was chosen to learn the smithy business, as well as the trade of being a merchantman.
Now reaching the age of seventeen, he as took over as master smithy of what he named Hearthfire; the name taken from his past experiences.
Abilities (No OP, please!): Nick has no supernatural abilities. He only has the practiced skills learnt throughout his years, such as smithing, bartering, and lock-picking.
Special Mentions(if any): Nick has chronic Insomnia, meaning it is rare that Nick has a night in which he doesn't wake up having recurring nightmares from his past. He usually evades sleeping by staying up days at a time, using herbal remedies and concoctions to keep his fatigue at bay. |
5,642 | 154 | 14 | 227 | 6 | The young man in front of her seemed to be very cold, despite his age albeit she shouldn’t be one to speak. The atmosphere around him shifted and turned into something dark and antisocial and she started to become shifty about it. ‘So… dark and mysterious,’ she thought. ‘Mixed with a little bit of stubbornness.’ She never got the chance to meet a lot of people, but from the people that she did meet, she hated people like the young man in front of her, almost to the point where she despised them for their attitude to the people around them and their inability to receive a word of thanks from people who are grateful for that they’ve done.
After listening to what he had to say, she looked down to his hands and noted that they were as big as he was implying them to be, at least, not to her. “Sorry for giving you credit, even if you did such a small job.” The urge to sock him right across the face grew and continued to do so, but she had managed to contain herself. She then looked up towards the young man in front of him and gave him a long, cold glare. Ain bared his fangs towards the young man who stood in front of her and stood on his front two legs, standing on level with her jaw line.
“You know, maybe if you didn’t act like such a brute, things wouldn’t be so cold for you,” she muttered, just barely loud enough for him, managing to hold a very serious tone whilst doing so. Seeing people like him and listening to how ungrateful they were made her blood boil to a whole new degree, to the point where a small bright spark came off the tip of her right index finger, as her right hand was now by her side. She wasn’t in the right mindset to care about what was exposed and what wasn’t anymore. When the spark had come off, Ain bit onto her jaw line hard causing her to wince at the pain. Aurain took a moment to regain her posture and walked off before he did, not paying attention to what he had last said, something about leaving him and dinner.
Ain had restrained himself from puncturing her pale skin to cause bleeding but managed to leave a small mark with the skin cut. With the change in her attitude, a small cold breeze had circled around her body in an attempt to cool her off due to the “talk” with the young man. She lifted her left hand to her neck and stroked his fur whilst angrily muttering to herself. “How could someone like him be such a brute? His attitude is no different than a troll’s, simple minded, cold and.. and rude! I’d find the troll to be of more comfort than that thing!” Once finishing her small rant, she had re-entered the room to which she was carried and attended to by the elf. On the way, Aurain had passed by the elf and didn’t give her any notice, even though she could feel the pure elf’s presence throughout her short-lived conversation with the human. The room was empty, so she had left and started to try and find the dwarf and elf that had stood by her side.
As much as had she hated being around people sometimes, she found herself wandering the guild with a tiny smile playing on her lips, but managing to hide it from any people passing by. Her walk was slow, so that she could assess and take a good sight of what she passed by and had come up with an idea, an idea to stay and become a part of the guild. After all, she would be able to meet interesting people, and mages who could possibly help her with her own powers. Subconsciously, she rolled her wrist and twisted her fingers, causing a small sphere of contained pressured air to form at the tip of her fingers, where it had circled around her hand as though it had a mind of its own. And to a degree, it did, leaving its spherical shape to form a small cloud above her hand and then back to the sphere as the three of them walked through the long halls. | Name: Aurain (often called Rain for short)
Gender: Female
Age: 17, on the verge of 18
Race: Half-elvish, half-human.
Height: 5’8.
Hair colour: A shade darker than mahogany.
Eye colour: Crystalline blue.
General Appearance: Aurain is a young girl, in the midst of her teenage years, coming close to adulthood. With a slim, somewhat hourglass figure, she manages to carry herself gracefully to her destination. While her skin is pale and facial features are all small due to her body shape and inheritance, her lips are colored a rosy pink, with slight signs of dimples for the rare times she smiles, her eyes a shining crystalline blue with long eyelashes and thin eyebrows. Her hair is short and straight, barely sitting atop her shoulders alongside the slight hint of a fringe that often sits on the right side of her face, her hair shaded a color slightly darker than mahogany. To go with her pale complexion, she often wears black clothing and accessories, albeit it may change depending on the occasion. She strolls the woods with a black blouse that is tightly buttoned up to just slightly above her breasts, where a slight part of her cleavage is shown, alongside a somewhat loose frilled collar. A pair of shorts hangs on her hips, as though it may fall at anytime but is reinforced with many strands of stray belts to keep the shorts from falling, where the shorts do not reveal her long legs, the shorts run down, covering all until just below her kneecap. Above all, sits a large yet fitting trench coat upon her body, embezzled with an assortment of random strands of stray belts across the back in a very similar fashion to her shorts. The trench coat is made from light materials as a high amount of weight could harm her physique, which in turn covers the majority of her body with her feet being the only body part not covered by the coat, instead they are covered with a light padding of black dyed cotton to ease the burden of having to run through the forest, even if it is not a lot as opposed to actual hardened material to save her feet from being punctured by thorns or glass pieces.
Personality: At a first glance, she comes off as a very quiet, antisocial and cold, to a certain degree, young lady due to her clothing choice, something she herself did despite her parents attempting to get her to change before she had left the town. Due to certain events that had taken with the other children and her teacher, she often tends to stay away from people, mainly men as she is easily frightened by them. When needed, she may put this fear aside for the sake of trading with a merchant man but will often act more cold than usual to men, to a point where she may even taunt them. When getting to know people, it is as though she’s a completely different person, with smiles and a warm atmosphere circling around her.
History/Backstory: Hailing from an old town in the far north, Aurain was born to parents of different races, her mother an elf and her father a human. Her whole life she had been taunted by the other villagers and their children, as she was an outsider, so to say, due to her parents being of two different races. Because of her having come from a traditional town, such an act was once prohibited but due to these acts occurring more than usual, the prohibition was dismissed. Albeit there were youngsters much like her, she didn’t feel right with them, she didn’t feel anything towards them and then had a set goal in mind, causing her to turn her back on everyone, those of which that taunted her and those of which she had loved greatly. When turning 7, she had learnt of an odd ability, being able to conjure elements of all kinds with simple hand gestures. When the chief had learnt of her new ability, she was sent to a teacher that had specialized in such teachings and spent what seemed like countless years mastering the arts, but it wasn’t enough. What she had learnt through all those years were just the basics, she had to embark on a mission to find the power to continue, to be able to protect herself and the people she was to meet on her journey, and has been wandering astray in the woods for two years now. But during this journey, she has managed to find a small creature to assist her, a white ferret that is often seen around her neck napping the day away.
Abilities (No OP, please !): As an elementalist, she has the ability to conjure the elements with the magic that courses through her body, being able to cast the brightest of flames down to the coldest of chills. Her abilities range from fire, ice, water, thunder, earth and air, with more to learn as these are simply basics. Her abilities do not last for a long time, nor do they inflict the greatest of damage. Using these elements and the magic within her could cause various side effects and must be able to restrict the amount of magic used unless she were to suffer a lack of magic needed for her body to continue respiring. Alongside the magic, she has been trained with a blade and a bow, being able to fend off for herself if needed, and if her magic should fail against whatever opponent she is to go for but does poorly in both, as well as her magic skill not coming close to what is required of any and every mage.
Special Mentions(if any): Could be a victim to violent outbreaks. After suffering a lack of magic, it is essential for her to rest as she needs to calm her body temperature and regain whatever magic she had spent over a certain duration of time. The ferret that naps on her neck is wild and will hiss whoever approaches Aurain, but will often nibble on her neck when it feels as though something is coming her way. |
5,643 | 155 | 0 | 2,595 | 7,070 | Start Date - July 10th, 2012
Time: 7:00 PM
Prologue: "The Hand Fate has Dealt To You"
===
It had all started with a letter it seemed. A letter with ornate coverings and fancy hand written dialogue delivered by a person, a different person to each individual, and personalized in each letter. Then those whom had chosen to accept the letter were given a strange invitation to join a group. What the group wanted? The Destruction of Hollows and a possible 'arrangement' it seemed as that's what each letter had written in it. Besides that the signature bearer being anonymous merely referring to himself or herself as 'A Possible Friend/Companion'. It was most likely the only constant in each letter. Each letter had disturbing knowledge of the person in question's abilities and even some personal information that whoever sent out these were most likely not privy to. Along with these letters was a ticket to be given to at certain airports near the location of the person as if they already knew where they were. To those who knew about the Soul Society it was certainly not their style. Whoever wrote these letters had certain knowledge about the world that a normal person shouldn't have had. It is eerie to say the least. But one thing was certain...in the past years hollow activity had been rising due to various reasons some more obvious than others. And some humans had been affected by it in different ways bringing forth powers unknown and or combated by beings long thought dead.
This story starts off in a plane. A private jet owned by or rented by the person whom had sent the letter. All the inhabitants whom had accepted the call were accepted on board the ship one by one as it flew across the world and picked up each individual passenger one at a time. Now the jet was on a take off for the ending destination...of which remained unknown to the inhabitants on board the jet and the waitress aboard it simply said they were going to America. Where? No one would say. But one thing was certain...someone or something was waiting at the end of this for the passengers on the plane...
====
How long had it been since he left Ireland? A couple days? Maybe a week tops? The jet was fast so he assumed it was only a couple days. It really didn't matter in the end. Regardless he was here and he wasn't going anywhere. He was the first one this jet picked up...it was strange as he watched new people come onto this fancy plane one at a time. But he knew one thing that was a constant....they all held some sort of spiritual connection that was for sure because he could feel it in his veins. His training may have been dulled out by the arbitrary life of a poor man like himself but he was still able to see what was clearly in front of him. Terry Adair was sitting in his chair for the entire flight only getting up to use one of the bathrooms on the jet. His leather coat was unzipped, and his shirt was not tucked in his pants. Around Terry's neck hung his cross which jingled slightly every now and then when he moved his neck. After all it was made of silver and the emerald in it made it look pretty but for anyone privy to Terry's abilities... well that was another story.
Terry had more stuff with him but it was all in the cargo hold area and all of it was unimportant. The Irishman had a glass of aged wine next to him which he sipped every once in awhile to put down his stress. What good was being treated like a guest by this plainly rich fellow if he didn't at least get a drink out of it anyhow? But one thing had haunted Terry's thoughts: How had this unknown party gathered this many people? And more importantly...why the hell did he know so much about him? Aye...that was one hell of a question he intended on getting answered. Terry had the letter neatly folded on his lap. He said nothing as he reached out and pulled out the letter with his rough hands.
Opening the letter up once more he read it once more:
"To Mr. Adair...In life there is only one constant. From nobles of the highest order whom serves only himself or herself and or their people, to low payed farmers who strive in the hardest of conditions there is only the one constant between everyone: Death. I'm sure that you, of all people, were aware of the existence of an afterlife...an existence beyond this life. Because of your training to use the abilities that come from beings like you known as Fullbringers. You are aware by now that I am certainly not a person you know. No one besides you has known about your abilities...or at least that's what I'm told. From that one day in your life that changed you so very much, you have strived to become a person separated from others. To prevent yourself from being too attached to others. A protector of the weak and the holy soldier of the Catholic God that is what you are. Or at the very least that's what the ruse was. You were trained to combat monsters that are spawned from death...but they were not monsters more like souls to attached to this world that refused to move on. Hollow shells of their living selves, they hang onto things they shouldn't and you have seen many of these beings haven't you? You've likely seen ghosts, and other beings as well whom are not the aptly named hollows. And I'm sure you know about the Soul Society as well. Maybe not as well as you may like to but you know them indeed. Perhaps you are interested in helping me fight these hollow former humans? Not for sport...not for gain....not for anything else other than necessity. You have every right to ignore this letter after all you do not know me and this letter is awfully suspicious in context. But I hope you understand one thing: Life is spiraling out of control and humanity needs a protector, or rather protectors, that do not tower above them like gods. Human beings have individuals like yourself that are capable of things not explainable by science. We need people like you if we are to take back our lives from the shadows of death and the pseudo guardians that hold them in place. If you want further answers....or you agree with me than please go to..."
Terry closed the letter once more and put it back in it's case as he wondered what in the hell did this person find out he was a Fullbringer...was this person a member of the Soul Society? Was this some sort of elaborate trap? Or was it just a stupid joke to waste every ones' time? The questions he intended to find out when he met this mysterious person face to face. He was curious as what type of person would set all of this up for the sake of people whom he knew nothing about. Or was it one of those self righteous spiritualists? He knew nothing and that only served to make him more nervous. Terry reached down and sipped his wine once more and looked down the row of leather seats and wondered exactly... what was his life going to hold from now on? He knew after this night...he'd likely not be the same Terry Adair whom left Ireland long ago. And he was fine with that. "In the name of the Holy Father and Mother I pray that me and those whom are on this ship find what they are looking for in the place we are to go. Protect us oh lord of light and shield us from the devil's clutches amen." Terry mumbled to himself as he clutched his cross for a moment before sighing and letting it go. Old habits died hard.... | Name: Terry Adair
Nicknames: The Cross
Gender: Male
Weight: 220 lbs
Height: 6'1
Age: 24
Languages known: English, Japanese, Russian (minor knowledge)
Appearance:
Brown/black hair and green eyes
( - His lower body is a normal pair of jeans or sweat pants and under the coat is a nondescript grey shirt
!( "enter image title here")
Fullbringer Ability: Cross of Scaffold (クロス·オブ·スキャッフォルド, Kurosu obu Sukyafforudo): Using Fullbring, Terry is able to transform the Celtic Cross pendant on his necklace into a large Claymore. The blade is a long, very wide, double-edged form of a longsword. The crossguard consists of a small emerald gem at the center and two straight ornate arms ending in simplistic version of a fleur-de-lis. The sword's handle runs through its guard, continuing on through a gold hollow space at the base of its blade. The handle is almost the same length of the blade itself. This part of the handle allows Terry to attack opponents at closer ranges. By gripping the handle near the base of his broadsword's blade and swinging the Cross of Scaffold around, Though he has trouble doing so Terry can generate certain amounts of light green Reiryoku which sheathes itself over the blade. When he swings the sword at his desired target it unleashes a small wave of energy in the shape of a blade that can cut through enemies. This requires effort on his own behalf to do so since he only had basic training since he left Tokyo.
Fullbringer Item Appearance/Description: (
(
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Average Spiritual Awareness
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor: None
Personality: Terry is a man raised on catholic beliefs and doesn't normally partake in alcohol or over consumption of foods. He is a tolerant person and is very calm normally but when angered becomes a very serious person. He is not fond of large groups as he prefers being able to talk to people individually without being interrupted and groups in general make him uncomfortable. As a person he is not one to proscribe to romance of any sort but he finds the idea interesting in itself. That being said he is not one to completely obstinate from liking another person romantically. He is not a very funny individual and any jokes he makes tend to be pretty lame or lack clever thought behind them. As a combatant he is serious and directly to the point not afraid of using dirty tricks to win the day but doesn't enjoy doing so. He has a distaste for the Soul Society and says that people should be free to make their own choices in life.
Terry's Fullbringer powers leave him with a sense of magnitude and a sense of dread. He dislikes being one targeted because of them but he still, despite all the trouble that it has caused him, loves having a unique ability no matter how much he may deny it outright. He enjoys the flow of combat and views it as a form of self expression and that a way a person fights says many things about the person. He is also a person whom doesn't mind being shouted at or demeaned. Terry, due to his time as a priest in training, also is a person who is neutral towards people in general and doesn't judge them based on their past but what they are doing right now.
History:
Born in southern Ireland to a woman named Michelle Leon and a father named Brandon Adair he (Terry) is the oldest son of the two children they had. Terry's mother was attacked by a crazed individual (whom was not seen again after the attack presumably he was caught or he died somewhere) and was hurt during her pregnancy but recovered due in no small part to the help of the town's doctor. Terry's parents where unimportant in the overall scheme of things with his mother being a nurse and his father being a construction worker and had only met when their friend introduced them to each other. Terry himself was often left with his rough and unready father whom showed he had little patience for little Terry but did his best to take care of him none the less being that Terry was his son and he wasn't about to become an abusive alcoholic father. His mother also took time to be with him when she could but was often to tired to do much and often got into fights with Brandon on who would raise Terry.
Eventually Terry was handed over to his uncle who lived nearby and worked at home as a farmer and was a devout catholic. Terry was raised there the majority of the time by his aunt Rose whom loved him like the son she couldn't have. Terry was often read parts of the bible and about the history of Ireland itself by Rose who was patient and understand of people who where not catholic unlike the more stubborn uncle. When he was old enough he split his time between reading and working with his dad on small projects that he was old enough for,which were few and far between and often it was unpleasant but respectable work none the less, and working on the farm that his uncle
As he grew older he noticed that he himself was a more physically tougher boy than his friends and classmates due to in no small part to the hard farming life he lived and the work with his father. When he got into a childish fist fight he often ended up giving people bloody noses and or outright overpowering kids who were from backgrounds that weren't like his. School itself was an strange ordeal and one that he didn't specifically excel at for the most part but did well enough. He wasn't a book smart child but liked the stories and challenges that came with reading and things like science and math. While his father helped him with math his mother and aunt helped him with his other projects and studies. He grew especially close to his aunt and started to go to church with her after school and learned to be tolerant of others but also to enjoy and praise the holy bible. However the arrival of his younger brother changed his life.
Terry was often annoyed by his little brother's crying and the attention given towards him by his mother Michelle caused him to spend more and more time with his extended family. However he often was in charge of his younger brother and was there for him when his parents where not and even his first word was Terry. Terry was there for his first steps and when he hurt himself with scraped knees. It was more out of a respect for family than love for his imminent sibling that he did those things though. When Terry became a teenager he started to consider a teaching career despite pushes to become an athlete by his dad and uncle. When things got to stressful in Terry's life he was often found going to churches to talk out his problems. His local priest, Father Mance, was often kind and considerate towards the boy despite not being from around here, coming from Russia, and became a mentor figure for young Terry. His little brother tried to keep up with him but failed miserably in his attempts to do so. And gradually Terry began to slip away from his family and more towards those around him. He had few and far between girlfriends and eventually he started to burrow himself into studying languages hoping to become a language teacher with the help of his mentor Father Mance. His most treasured item during this time was a Celtic cross worn by Mance until Terry's sixteenth birthday.
Towards the end of his school years Terry and his younger brother were out for a stroll when Terry and his brother were both attacked by a strange being whom was protecting a nearby playground they were walking past where a boy had died two weeks prior. Terry and his brother were afraid of the being though Terry's own inner strength made him brave enough to take most of the bad shots for his younger brother who insisted that he save himself. Terry was only aware of this being due to the fact that he had a strange sixth sense of sorts that allowed him to interact and see beings that passed on and his younger brother only had a basic awareness of it seeing the horrifying creature that was attacking them as a blurred vision compared to Terry whom saw the being in it's whole. Their father saw them being attacked and rushed to their aid despite not knowing what as happening and not being spiritually aware and only hurt himself in the process. Terry and his brother were almost certainly going to die until Father Mance steeped into the fight with a big brown war hammer. Father Mance displayed abilities that no one could have predicted and quickly dispatched the monster with ruthless ease which frightened young Terry. Much to Father Mance's annoyance before he could finish the monster off he was interrupted by a man in a black and white robes and was the lieutenant of a squad of some sort. The man made the monster vanish and then turned on Mance saying that he should have not gotten involved in which Mance retorted he didn't intend to let shinigami come late and cost boys their lives.
The man ignored that statement and went to erase the memory of Terry and the others despite his brother's arguments. Mance intervened on behalf of his student Terry saying the boy involuntarily used something called Fullbringer powers during the fight which Terry was confused about and told him that he didn't want his memories removed and that was a statement his younger brother agreed with. The Lieutenant gave Mance a deal after a firm argument from both parties and wiped out his brother's memories of this while keeping Terry. While his brother and father were sent to the hospital Mance and Terry both went back to the local chapel and Mance personally took care of Terry saying from this point forth that Terry's life would never be the same. Terry said he knew it wouldn't be but that's what he asked for.
Terry and Mance became in tangled in training in the outbacks of southern Ireland and occasionally France where they trained in the mountains. Mance told him about the basics of what was happening such as Hollows and Soul Reapers and told Terry he was like himself, a being known as a Fullbringer and that his mother had been attacked by a Hollow before his birth and some of that being's energy resided in him. Terry was a slow learner but he improved and eventually grew to have a certain strength in his Fullbringer power being able to conjure up a Claymore from his Celtic Cross. After this Terry and Mance left Ireland and France behind and left for Japan. Terry at this point had learned some Russian and Japanese due to Mance's recommendation due to Japan being where things normally hit the fan. Terry spent time as a priest in training there but gave that up once he had trouble coping with the trouble that came with knowing of the existence of the Soul Society. However he still followed the beliefs installed in him by his aunt and uncle. His brother often tried to contact Terry to little success normally. Terry would eventually gain a firm understanding of Japan after some year or so being there. Mance let Terry live his own life and was sent to a school where Mance's friend was a principal and gave him a spot for tutoring English for students.
Terry grew comfortable with his life up until his twenty first birthday where he came home from a party with his newer friend and companions only to find the church that Father Mance lived in was under attack. Terry was unable to find Mance until it was to late. Mance had been left lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood and his last words to Terry were that he was proud of the man the boy had become and that this wasn't his fault. Making his own path was far more important than the life of an aging priest. Mance pasted from this world as the same Shinigami came and brought him to the new world Terry took his money and quit his tutoring job after a week later and left for his home in Ireland. In his time in Tokyo he had only encountered a dozen hollows and only three of which he defeated himself. Terry's life would live the rest of his days there he decided before one day a strange ornate letter was given to him and a man requested his appearance and it was signed anonymously but the details inside of it proclaimed frightening knowledge of Terry's Fullbringer status. He was determined to find out who it was who sent this letter to him. |
5,644 | 155 | 1 | 1,370 | 1,861 | Alexis was sitting at the back of the plane away from everyone else, a rather bored look upon her face he she lent her chin on the palm of her hand, and gazed blankly out of the window to the open sky. She hadn't spoken much since she was picked up from her home in Japan, nor has she really interacted at all with the others on this plane, Alexis couldn't exactly be bothered.
Being on this aircraft bothered Alexis greatly even though she didn't show it, it was so fancy, to fancy for some street kid like herself, and that letter she had been sent obscurely knew way to much for her liking, no one was suppose to know what she was. Alexis didn't even know why she bothered to follow what that letter said, even though it went against what her gut feeling was, Alexis was just incredibly bored at the time and wondered if this would give her that excitement she was looking for.
To her it felt like it had been far to long since she got onto this jet, and was getting very restless yet she didn't want to stand up and draw attention to herself, after all she could sense that so far, she was one of the Quincy among those who were also on this plane with her and it made her feel rather nervous. The only other Quincy she often found herself looking to out of curiosity, she hadn't meet another outside of her family before.
Finally moving after sitting there like a statue for so long Alexis observed those who had gotten on the plane after her, she had been the second after some Irish looking fellow who sat further up, not really having bothered to speak to him much yet she didn't exactly know all to much about him.
The Quincy let out an irritable sigh as she reached down to her bag by her feet, taking out her handheld game device to keep herself entertained, stopping for a moment to glance to the letter that was so roughly stuffed into her bag. Shrugging she took out her earphones and plugged them in to play her game.
Alexis hadn't brought all that much with her, not that she really had much to bring in the first place, it was all in her backpack that was stuffed down by her feet.
Taking a sip of her fuzzy drink before turning on her game device, Alexis then let herself get lost in the world of her game, trying to ignore all of those strange people though she did however glance up every once in a while to check where they were at, and what they were doing.
Hoping that her earphones would discourage the others from wanting to chat with her, Alexis fingered her Quincy cross for a moment before returning to her game, a bit of a grin crossing her lips as she started to kick ass in that virtual world within her game device. | Name: Alexis Falk
Gender: Female
Weight: 55kg
Height: 5,4
Age: 21
Languages known: English and minor Japanese
Appearance:
She wears what is in the image, along with baggy black pants and combat boots that she never ties up properly. In the cold she has a thick, dark tan jacket.
Quincy Uniform
When in her Quincy uniform, Alexis wears a simple white tank top and simple white shorts, with white knee high boots that have a small heal and come to a slight point at the toe, the shoes have blue laces and a blue line over all the seams of the shoes.
Over all of this Alexis has a sleeveless coat, at the front it only reaches only to her stomach, as it reaches the side of her body it starts becoming long enough to reach the back of her heal, this again is white and is lined around the hems and seams in blue, with the Quincy insignia stretching over the upper back. Under this coat she keeps a small white pouch in which she can store her items.
Quincy abilities:
Like all Quincy, Alexis is able to use Hirenkyaku, An advanced Quincy moving technique that allows for high-speed movements by riding on the flow of Reishi created below the user's feet.
And the Blut, A Quincy ability that gives a practitioner inhuman defensive and offensive capability. By making Reishi flow into their blood vessels, Quincy increase their attack and defense power drastically. Though Blut is significantly dangerous, it has one big flaw; the two forms of Blut for attack and defense work using two different Reishi systems, so they cannot be used at the same time. Echt Quincy inherits it from birth while Gemischt Quincy must train to attain it.
Alexis of course is also extremely good at archery and practices it often as a hobby in her spare and to keep her skills from diminishing, Her Quincy bow is called forth from her necklace at will,
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Average Spiritual Awareness
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor:
Alexis possesses a couple of Gintō, A capsule-shaped tool used by Quincy to store their Reiryoku. It is an antiquated tool, but the use of it allows Quincy to perform certain techniques. She keeps these in a small white pouch that is hidden under her Quincy uniform coat, and her Quincy Cross Is a necklace on a silver chain, one that she is never seen without.
Personality:
Unlike most other Quincy who are trained posh and formal with some kind of intelligence and efficiency in battle, Alexis is rather the opposite as she can be rash in her choice of attacks, with an attitude problem and a habit for not listening when she is suppose too. Maybe even a little quick tempered at the worst of times.
Despite all this though Alexis is loyal and trusting to her friends, not that she has many friends to begin with. But like most Quincy she still has that loathing towards Soul Reapers, and will act rather unkindly towards them even though she will act unkindly towards any stranger who approaches her.
She is a bit of a rebel as well when it comes to not paying attention or choosing to ignore the rules. playing by her own set of rules rather than those she had been taught as a Quincy, Alexis has never been good at playing with others either and would rather battle alone than be aided by another, not that she wouldn't appreciate the help if someone did come along but she wouldn't openly show this.
Alexis likes to smoke all the time, though she is obviously suffering from it with coughing fits that hit her at random times and shortage of breath of course, something she however pretends isn't as bad as it really is, and if offered will willingly and happily participate in drinks through this is something she can easily lose control over, the tattoos on her right arm are a result of one such time, she doesn't like to talk about this particular event.
History:
Alexis was never born or raised in Japan, and in fact never set foot in Karakura town until she was at least 19 years of age, having moved here on her own to get away from her family whim all reside in some other part of the world. In the Australian and New Zealand area of the world to be exact. Alexis was raised by her mother on a small far, a quiet place where she could carry out her Quincy training without hindrance from Society, and living not to far from her and her mother were her relatives, her uncle and aunt.
Though even though she lived away from Society it did not mean that she was safe from Hollows or never meet a soul reaper, Being told at a very young age that they were her enemies.
Alexis never liked this life and would have often sneak out to town where she hung out with friends, getting in to trouble with the police and with her family on numerous occasions, though she didn't care she preferred the rush of trouble over her Quincy training and her life that was chosen for her, only ever learning what she needed to know, and no more than that so that she wasn't seen as a threat and left alone.
When Alexis turned 19 she find the opportunity to leave her home and her family behind, forgetting about them and wishing to start fresh a new life, where she could do what she wanted when she wanted. However was unaware that the town she had planned to move to was renown for it's spiritual activity, and what she tried to escape from would become something she would have to rely on, more often than she would like.
Living alone in an old apartment Alexis goes to a school to learn Japanese, even though language isn't something she was ever good at learning, and has a small part time job, aside from hollow hunting and Soul reaper taunting. And even though she has next to no friends in this new town, the Quincy is enjoying her new home and her new life away from strict rules and constant training, Living life how she sees fit just how she wanted, for now at least. |
5,645 | 155 | 2 | 926 | 775 | Hunting Hollows, Slaying Spirits, and the Good Life. Bryce Lee stood in an air strip waiting for his plane to land. The young adult stretch his arms up in the air for a long yawn. In truth being a Quincy was not one of Bryce's favorite duties in the world but it had to be better than doing absolutely nothing. Sure it was pretty impressive that he could destroy monsters that no one else could see but being raised mainly around these hunts made it absolutely dreadful since he was used to it that much. After Bryce finished his yawn he could see an aircraft land majestically onto the air strip.
"That must be my ride." The Quincy stated to the air traffic control officers who began to escort him. As Bryce made his way to the plane the ATC personnel behind him lugged his moderately sized bag on a pulley. It was not that Bryce was lay but since he was using a private air strip provided by an old friend from the service then he was to let the men earn their pay check. that didn't mean Bryce was a sap. He stood outside the plane as the men loaded his bag into the cargo section. There were some complaints that he climbed into the bag docks but he wanted to make sure that some assembly workers did not make off with a shirt from his baggage.
"Thank you for your time, and be sure to give Richard my regards." Bryce said with a wave to the men as he boarded the plane. He had no idea where they were going but this was probably one of the last times he was going to see New England for a while. That was unless he tells this mysterious stranger to go screw an elephant and travel back to his home town in Maine. Bryce looked for seat when he saw two other passengers. One looked like a typical white guy and the other looked like she had a Quincy cross around her neck. Then with a second glace the white guy looked like he had a cross but it did not look like it was made in the Quincy style. Maybe the guy was a follower of Christ. Who knows but Bryce took a seat near the back of the plane. It could be a type of Quincy from some other part of the country and because of culture differences he wore a different material of cross. That was when Bryce looked down at the cross that summoned Doragon, his spirit bow. Either way the plane looked like it was going to take off soon so Bryce felt as if he should take a nap. | Name: Bryce Lee
Nicknames: Shooting Dragon
Gender: Male
Weight: 175lbs.
Height: 6'0
Age: 22
Languages known: English, Some Japanese
Appearance:
Quincy Ability:
Basic Reishi Manipulation: At a young age Bryce was taught how to manipulate reishi in his surrounding in order to form a spirit bow. His mastery over this technique isn't perfect because he abandoned his formal training before it was complete, but he can use it to take down an average hollow.
Spirit Bow: Bryce's training as a Quincy has taught him to generate a bow by collecting reishi and combining it with his which he calls his Doragon (ドラゴン literally means: Dragon)
Quincy Cross Appearance/Description:
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Slightly Below Average
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor: None for now.
Personality:
Bryce comes off as a rather serious person but can be funny once he opens up his shell to you. He was not raised knowing many living people as a child so he tends to only socialize with the dead until he knows he can trust you. Once you do earn his trust he tends to make witty and sarcastic remarks at you. When talking to females he does end up being a bit more flirty and he acts more confrontational when speaking to men. With his training by his mother and the military he tends to try and think of three or more answers before he takes the time to respond making him the last to act in any situation.
In battle Bryce immediately takes the time for his first thought to analyze and assess the situation he places himself in. His training in the army has him look at shooting vantage points and locations that can stop a ranged attack opposed to a spot that would leave him wide open to a volley of bullet. Like wise in his hollow hunting he tends to fire his Spirit Bow from a concealed location if he can't find definite cover. Like all other situation in battle Bryce usually is last to move but this is because he spends most of his time in battle thinking of the best possible way to finish a battle in as few shots as possible. However, if he cannot finish a battle quick he will do what he can to stay on his toes until he can get a clear shot in.
History:
Once upon a time there was a hollow known as Young Blood. This hollow was not especially powerful but it was smart and managed to outrun the Soul Society for about a hundred years. That was until he was slaughtered by a blast of concentrated reishi fired by a Quincy. This Quincy was a half-Chinese and half-Japanese girl named Sora Lee. Sora moved from Hong Kong to Karakura town when she was little with her parents because they were being hunted by an exorcist. Sora eventually met a man named Kiba who she slowly fell in love with due to his charm and wit. The problem with being with Kiba was that he came from a family who was not spiritually aware so she kept her powers and family a secret from her lover for a majority of their relationship. It wasn't until after Sora was pregnant that she revealed the existence of the Soul Society and hollows to Kiba. Sadly Kiba was killed by the dreaded hollow Young Blood in front of Sora. This enraged the ferocious Quincy and she destroyed the vile creature while gaining infamy among the Seireitei.
Sora soon felt that she could not live her life in Karakura town. Thus she packed up and relocated to the United States for her child to be born in a nation where he may someday prosper. After three months of living in this nation in a quiet town her son , whom she named Bryce, was born to her. The Shinigami took notice that Sora had relocated to the outskirts of Maine so they relaxed their patrols in her neighborhood not wanting to help extend another line of Quincies. Soon Sora noticed that she was the only protector against hollow attacks. This firmly prompted her to start training Bryce at the age of four in the art of the Quincy.
Bryce Lee accompanied his mother on her hollow hunts until he turned thirteen. Then his mother planned on testing him to see if he could handle hollows on his own and he succeeded to possess the basic mastery over all abilities necessary to take down a hollow. This changed when Bryce turned seventeen because he never enjoyed hunting these hollows and he hated that he was born into a family where he was charged with slaughtering these demons. Although he was selfish and was not willing to let people suffer. He left his mothers house after he graduated high school early to join the United States Army. There he took a job in the Intelligence Department.
Bryce spent the first two years in the Army working Infantry. Being charged as a warrior on the battlefield he used his Quincy training to enhance his reflexes higher than his peers and pinpoint accuracy with a rifle to outdo other soldiers taking lives of the enemy while he fought in the heated climate of Afghanastan and Libya. Even though Bryce was trained to combat hollows he could easily have died if there was a weapon fired at him before he could take notice then he probably would have died. And he knew that. After his second year of fighting on the front lines he requested to be retrained by the Army in their Intelligence Division. There he was charged with plotting battle formulas of military operations. This helped him become a master in military strategy and major battle tactics. Bryce was a model soldier until one day. He explained each possibility to a General, but the commanding officer in question did not take the plan with the least casualties because an other plan could bring greater results. After Bryce offended the General then he was immediately discharged from his career in the Army.
A few months after his job with the Army Bryce received a letter from a mysterious source. Bryce knew he would spent his time partying and wasting the rest of his life if he did not keep himself busy. That notion prompted him to accept the offer and he begun to travel to the airport in question so that he may see what this stranger wants from him.
Other: Bryce has U.S. Army Tattooed vertically from his left shoulder down his back.
Edit: your rules look strange to me. |
5,646 | 155 | 3 | 2,595 | 7,070 | The group had been flying for awhile now and they were about to reach their destination...or so Terry hoped as he looked out the window into the dark sky. He had the feeling that these people on this jet were just like him. If no...similar enough. But there is no need to rush things at all. Terry reached over to the young boy whom had fallen asleep on the plane awhile ago and shook him slightly. "Hey lad you alright? I'm sorry to wake you up...but may I ask why are you here?" Terry questioned the boy gently and he had a thin smile on his face. He wasn't trying to be creepy or intimidating but all the same he'd felt it was best to find out why exactly they were called here...if these people were willing to talk that was. If not then he'd respect their privacy but it was better to do at least try. "I hope I wasn't interrupting some dream laddy. He said with a chuckle.
===
On the other side of the plane a young man sat in his chair snoring loudly. His golden hair and his rough and worn clothes indicating he was more of a maverick than anyone on this plane. He was seated right behind the lady known as Alexis. He had his red baseball cap pulled over his eyes and his feet were above the seat next to Alexis. He was here before she arrived and had been asleep ever since. Luckily for Alexis the people waiting on them inside the plane said that they were in a really fast plane so she wouldn't need to deal with the man much longer. "Mmmm...cheese steak..." commented the man as he scratched himself in his sleep. The worst part about the man being there however was undoubtly his smell...he stank of wet dog and or dirty laundry and it only seemed to get worse the longer they were there. | Name: Terry Adair
Nicknames: The Cross
Gender: Male
Weight: 220 lbs
Height: 6'1
Age: 24
Languages known: English, Japanese, Russian (minor knowledge)
Appearance:
Brown/black hair and green eyes
( - His lower body is a normal pair of jeans or sweat pants and under the coat is a nondescript grey shirt
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Fullbringer Ability: Cross of Scaffold (クロス·オブ·スキャッフォルド, Kurosu obu Sukyafforudo): Using Fullbring, Terry is able to transform the Celtic Cross pendant on his necklace into a large Claymore. The blade is a long, very wide, double-edged form of a longsword. The crossguard consists of a small emerald gem at the center and two straight ornate arms ending in simplistic version of a fleur-de-lis. The sword's handle runs through its guard, continuing on through a gold hollow space at the base of its blade. The handle is almost the same length of the blade itself. This part of the handle allows Terry to attack opponents at closer ranges. By gripping the handle near the base of his broadsword's blade and swinging the Cross of Scaffold around, Though he has trouble doing so Terry can generate certain amounts of light green Reiryoku which sheathes itself over the blade. When he swings the sword at his desired target it unleashes a small wave of energy in the shape of a blade that can cut through enemies. This requires effort on his own behalf to do so since he only had basic training since he left Tokyo.
Fullbringer Item Appearance/Description: (
(
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Average Spiritual Awareness
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor: None
Personality: Terry is a man raised on catholic beliefs and doesn't normally partake in alcohol or over consumption of foods. He is a tolerant person and is very calm normally but when angered becomes a very serious person. He is not fond of large groups as he prefers being able to talk to people individually without being interrupted and groups in general make him uncomfortable. As a person he is not one to proscribe to romance of any sort but he finds the idea interesting in itself. That being said he is not one to completely obstinate from liking another person romantically. He is not a very funny individual and any jokes he makes tend to be pretty lame or lack clever thought behind them. As a combatant he is serious and directly to the point not afraid of using dirty tricks to win the day but doesn't enjoy doing so. He has a distaste for the Soul Society and says that people should be free to make their own choices in life.
Terry's Fullbringer powers leave him with a sense of magnitude and a sense of dread. He dislikes being one targeted because of them but he still, despite all the trouble that it has caused him, loves having a unique ability no matter how much he may deny it outright. He enjoys the flow of combat and views it as a form of self expression and that a way a person fights says many things about the person. He is also a person whom doesn't mind being shouted at or demeaned. Terry, due to his time as a priest in training, also is a person who is neutral towards people in general and doesn't judge them based on their past but what they are doing right now.
History:
Born in southern Ireland to a woman named Michelle Leon and a father named Brandon Adair he (Terry) is the oldest son of the two children they had. Terry's mother was attacked by a crazed individual (whom was not seen again after the attack presumably he was caught or he died somewhere) and was hurt during her pregnancy but recovered due in no small part to the help of the town's doctor. Terry's parents where unimportant in the overall scheme of things with his mother being a nurse and his father being a construction worker and had only met when their friend introduced them to each other. Terry himself was often left with his rough and unready father whom showed he had little patience for little Terry but did his best to take care of him none the less being that Terry was his son and he wasn't about to become an abusive alcoholic father. His mother also took time to be with him when she could but was often to tired to do much and often got into fights with Brandon on who would raise Terry.
Eventually Terry was handed over to his uncle who lived nearby and worked at home as a farmer and was a devout catholic. Terry was raised there the majority of the time by his aunt Rose whom loved him like the son she couldn't have. Terry was often read parts of the bible and about the history of Ireland itself by Rose who was patient and understand of people who where not catholic unlike the more stubborn uncle. When he was old enough he split his time between reading and working with his dad on small projects that he was old enough for,which were few and far between and often it was unpleasant but respectable work none the less, and working on the farm that his uncle
As he grew older he noticed that he himself was a more physically tougher boy than his friends and classmates due to in no small part to the hard farming life he lived and the work with his father. When he got into a childish fist fight he often ended up giving people bloody noses and or outright overpowering kids who were from backgrounds that weren't like his. School itself was an strange ordeal and one that he didn't specifically excel at for the most part but did well enough. He wasn't a book smart child but liked the stories and challenges that came with reading and things like science and math. While his father helped him with math his mother and aunt helped him with his other projects and studies. He grew especially close to his aunt and started to go to church with her after school and learned to be tolerant of others but also to enjoy and praise the holy bible. However the arrival of his younger brother changed his life.
Terry was often annoyed by his little brother's crying and the attention given towards him by his mother Michelle caused him to spend more and more time with his extended family. However he often was in charge of his younger brother and was there for him when his parents where not and even his first word was Terry. Terry was there for his first steps and when he hurt himself with scraped knees. It was more out of a respect for family than love for his imminent sibling that he did those things though. When Terry became a teenager he started to consider a teaching career despite pushes to become an athlete by his dad and uncle. When things got to stressful in Terry's life he was often found going to churches to talk out his problems. His local priest, Father Mance, was often kind and considerate towards the boy despite not being from around here, coming from Russia, and became a mentor figure for young Terry. His little brother tried to keep up with him but failed miserably in his attempts to do so. And gradually Terry began to slip away from his family and more towards those around him. He had few and far between girlfriends and eventually he started to burrow himself into studying languages hoping to become a language teacher with the help of his mentor Father Mance. His most treasured item during this time was a Celtic cross worn by Mance until Terry's sixteenth birthday.
Towards the end of his school years Terry and his younger brother were out for a stroll when Terry and his brother were both attacked by a strange being whom was protecting a nearby playground they were walking past where a boy had died two weeks prior. Terry and his brother were afraid of the being though Terry's own inner strength made him brave enough to take most of the bad shots for his younger brother who insisted that he save himself. Terry was only aware of this being due to the fact that he had a strange sixth sense of sorts that allowed him to interact and see beings that passed on and his younger brother only had a basic awareness of it seeing the horrifying creature that was attacking them as a blurred vision compared to Terry whom saw the being in it's whole. Their father saw them being attacked and rushed to their aid despite not knowing what as happening and not being spiritually aware and only hurt himself in the process. Terry and his brother were almost certainly going to die until Father Mance steeped into the fight with a big brown war hammer. Father Mance displayed abilities that no one could have predicted and quickly dispatched the monster with ruthless ease which frightened young Terry. Much to Father Mance's annoyance before he could finish the monster off he was interrupted by a man in a black and white robes and was the lieutenant of a squad of some sort. The man made the monster vanish and then turned on Mance saying that he should have not gotten involved in which Mance retorted he didn't intend to let shinigami come late and cost boys their lives.
The man ignored that statement and went to erase the memory of Terry and the others despite his brother's arguments. Mance intervened on behalf of his student Terry saying the boy involuntarily used something called Fullbringer powers during the fight which Terry was confused about and told him that he didn't want his memories removed and that was a statement his younger brother agreed with. The Lieutenant gave Mance a deal after a firm argument from both parties and wiped out his brother's memories of this while keeping Terry. While his brother and father were sent to the hospital Mance and Terry both went back to the local chapel and Mance personally took care of Terry saying from this point forth that Terry's life would never be the same. Terry said he knew it wouldn't be but that's what he asked for.
Terry and Mance became in tangled in training in the outbacks of southern Ireland and occasionally France where they trained in the mountains. Mance told him about the basics of what was happening such as Hollows and Soul Reapers and told Terry he was like himself, a being known as a Fullbringer and that his mother had been attacked by a Hollow before his birth and some of that being's energy resided in him. Terry was a slow learner but he improved and eventually grew to have a certain strength in his Fullbringer power being able to conjure up a Claymore from his Celtic Cross. After this Terry and Mance left Ireland and France behind and left for Japan. Terry at this point had learned some Russian and Japanese due to Mance's recommendation due to Japan being where things normally hit the fan. Terry spent time as a priest in training there but gave that up once he had trouble coping with the trouble that came with knowing of the existence of the Soul Society. However he still followed the beliefs installed in him by his aunt and uncle. His brother often tried to contact Terry to little success normally. Terry would eventually gain a firm understanding of Japan after some year or so being there. Mance let Terry live his own life and was sent to a school where Mance's friend was a principal and gave him a spot for tutoring English for students.
Terry grew comfortable with his life up until his twenty first birthday where he came home from a party with his newer friend and companions only to find the church that Father Mance lived in was under attack. Terry was unable to find Mance until it was to late. Mance had been left lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood and his last words to Terry were that he was proud of the man the boy had become and that this wasn't his fault. Making his own path was far more important than the life of an aging priest. Mance pasted from this world as the same Shinigami came and brought him to the new world Terry took his money and quit his tutoring job after a week later and left for his home in Ireland. In his time in Tokyo he had only encountered a dozen hollows and only three of which he defeated himself. Terry's life would live the rest of his days there he decided before one day a strange ornate letter was given to him and a man requested his appearance and it was signed anonymously but the details inside of it proclaimed frightening knowledge of Terry's Fullbringer status. He was determined to find out who it was who sent this letter to him. |
5,647 | 155 | 4 | 926 | 775 | Only a fool drops his guard for an enemy. That sure was not the thought going through a paranoid individual like Bryce Lee when he decided to take a nap on the plane. It was not that he was ready to trust the two passengers and mysterious crew with his life as much that he needed a small nap. He had been doing a load of last minute errand all day to be prepared for his flight. Yes they could have been done earlier to avoid the stress of doing them last minute but preparation was not something that Bryce was trying to do with a group of complete strangers.
"Whoa!" The young man called out as he jumped to hearing the priest trying to address him. This instance caught Bryce off guard so much that he flung his palm in the air. With that movement the unit coin he was holding as he slept flung from his palm through the air and hit the ceiling. From the ceiling the large coin landed atop the young woman sitting in the area. Bryce began to look up wondering what grabbed everyone's attention. "Hello?" He addressed the priest looking fellow who woke him up. "I'm okay, I just needed a small nap." He stated. | Name: Bryce Lee
Nicknames: Shooting Dragon
Gender: Male
Weight: 175lbs.
Height: 6'0
Age: 22
Languages known: English, Some Japanese
Appearance:
Quincy Ability:
Basic Reishi Manipulation: At a young age Bryce was taught how to manipulate reishi in his surrounding in order to form a spirit bow. His mastery over this technique isn't perfect because he abandoned his formal training before it was complete, but he can use it to take down an average hollow.
Spirit Bow: Bryce's training as a Quincy has taught him to generate a bow by collecting reishi and combining it with his which he calls his Doragon (ドラゴン literally means: Dragon)
Quincy Cross Appearance/Description:
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Slightly Below Average
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor: None for now.
Personality:
Bryce comes off as a rather serious person but can be funny once he opens up his shell to you. He was not raised knowing many living people as a child so he tends to only socialize with the dead until he knows he can trust you. Once you do earn his trust he tends to make witty and sarcastic remarks at you. When talking to females he does end up being a bit more flirty and he acts more confrontational when speaking to men. With his training by his mother and the military he tends to try and think of three or more answers before he takes the time to respond making him the last to act in any situation.
In battle Bryce immediately takes the time for his first thought to analyze and assess the situation he places himself in. His training in the army has him look at shooting vantage points and locations that can stop a ranged attack opposed to a spot that would leave him wide open to a volley of bullet. Like wise in his hollow hunting he tends to fire his Spirit Bow from a concealed location if he can't find definite cover. Like all other situation in battle Bryce usually is last to move but this is because he spends most of his time in battle thinking of the best possible way to finish a battle in as few shots as possible. However, if he cannot finish a battle quick he will do what he can to stay on his toes until he can get a clear shot in.
History:
Once upon a time there was a hollow known as Young Blood. This hollow was not especially powerful but it was smart and managed to outrun the Soul Society for about a hundred years. That was until he was slaughtered by a blast of concentrated reishi fired by a Quincy. This Quincy was a half-Chinese and half-Japanese girl named Sora Lee. Sora moved from Hong Kong to Karakura town when she was little with her parents because they were being hunted by an exorcist. Sora eventually met a man named Kiba who she slowly fell in love with due to his charm and wit. The problem with being with Kiba was that he came from a family who was not spiritually aware so she kept her powers and family a secret from her lover for a majority of their relationship. It wasn't until after Sora was pregnant that she revealed the existence of the Soul Society and hollows to Kiba. Sadly Kiba was killed by the dreaded hollow Young Blood in front of Sora. This enraged the ferocious Quincy and she destroyed the vile creature while gaining infamy among the Seireitei.
Sora soon felt that she could not live her life in Karakura town. Thus she packed up and relocated to the United States for her child to be born in a nation where he may someday prosper. After three months of living in this nation in a quiet town her son , whom she named Bryce, was born to her. The Shinigami took notice that Sora had relocated to the outskirts of Maine so they relaxed their patrols in her neighborhood not wanting to help extend another line of Quincies. Soon Sora noticed that she was the only protector against hollow attacks. This firmly prompted her to start training Bryce at the age of four in the art of the Quincy.
Bryce Lee accompanied his mother on her hollow hunts until he turned thirteen. Then his mother planned on testing him to see if he could handle hollows on his own and he succeeded to possess the basic mastery over all abilities necessary to take down a hollow. This changed when Bryce turned seventeen because he never enjoyed hunting these hollows and he hated that he was born into a family where he was charged with slaughtering these demons. Although he was selfish and was not willing to let people suffer. He left his mothers house after he graduated high school early to join the United States Army. There he took a job in the Intelligence Department.
Bryce spent the first two years in the Army working Infantry. Being charged as a warrior on the battlefield he used his Quincy training to enhance his reflexes higher than his peers and pinpoint accuracy with a rifle to outdo other soldiers taking lives of the enemy while he fought in the heated climate of Afghanastan and Libya. Even though Bryce was trained to combat hollows he could easily have died if there was a weapon fired at him before he could take notice then he probably would have died. And he knew that. After his second year of fighting on the front lines he requested to be retrained by the Army in their Intelligence Division. There he was charged with plotting battle formulas of military operations. This helped him become a master in military strategy and major battle tactics. Bryce was a model soldier until one day. He explained each possibility to a General, but the commanding officer in question did not take the plan with the least casualties because an other plan could bring greater results. After Bryce offended the General then he was immediately discharged from his career in the Army.
A few months after his job with the Army Bryce received a letter from a mysterious source. Bryce knew he would spent his time partying and wasting the rest of his life if he did not keep himself busy. That notion prompted him to accept the offer and he begun to travel to the airport in question so that he may see what this stranger wants from him.
Other: Bryce has U.S. Army Tattooed vertically from his left shoulder down his back.
Edit: your rules look strange to me. |
5,648 | 155 | 5 | 2,595 | 7,070 | Oh it seemed that the boy had some sense of manners at least. Or at least that's what Terry could tell, "I apologize for my bad manners lad. I just wanted to ask what you thought of this whole ordeal eh? I mean this place isn't exactly common course for people like myself. However-" Terry stated as he pulled out his letter and waved it back and forth a little, "However I seem to be the target of some interest for whoever is bringing us here. Are you in the same boat? What is it that is bringing you along on this little merry band of adventurers? I mean we got that lady over there, we got you, we got that boy snoring loudly in the corner, and we got me. I hardly think this is all just going to be some little 'you won a contest' thing." Terry said with a chuckle. | Name: Terry Adair
Nicknames: The Cross
Gender: Male
Weight: 220 lbs
Height: 6'1
Age: 24
Languages known: English, Japanese, Russian (minor knowledge)
Appearance:
Brown/black hair and green eyes
( - His lower body is a normal pair of jeans or sweat pants and under the coat is a nondescript grey shirt
!( "enter image title here")
Fullbringer Ability: Cross of Scaffold (クロス·オブ·スキャッフォルド, Kurosu obu Sukyafforudo): Using Fullbring, Terry is able to transform the Celtic Cross pendant on his necklace into a large Claymore. The blade is a long, very wide, double-edged form of a longsword. The crossguard consists of a small emerald gem at the center and two straight ornate arms ending in simplistic version of a fleur-de-lis. The sword's handle runs through its guard, continuing on through a gold hollow space at the base of its blade. The handle is almost the same length of the blade itself. This part of the handle allows Terry to attack opponents at closer ranges. By gripping the handle near the base of his broadsword's blade and swinging the Cross of Scaffold around, Though he has trouble doing so Terry can generate certain amounts of light green Reiryoku which sheathes itself over the blade. When he swings the sword at his desired target it unleashes a small wave of energy in the shape of a blade that can cut through enemies. This requires effort on his own behalf to do so since he only had basic training since he left Tokyo.
Fullbringer Item Appearance/Description: (
(
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Average Spiritual Awareness
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor: None
Personality: Terry is a man raised on catholic beliefs and doesn't normally partake in alcohol or over consumption of foods. He is a tolerant person and is very calm normally but when angered becomes a very serious person. He is not fond of large groups as he prefers being able to talk to people individually without being interrupted and groups in general make him uncomfortable. As a person he is not one to proscribe to romance of any sort but he finds the idea interesting in itself. That being said he is not one to completely obstinate from liking another person romantically. He is not a very funny individual and any jokes he makes tend to be pretty lame or lack clever thought behind them. As a combatant he is serious and directly to the point not afraid of using dirty tricks to win the day but doesn't enjoy doing so. He has a distaste for the Soul Society and says that people should be free to make their own choices in life.
Terry's Fullbringer powers leave him with a sense of magnitude and a sense of dread. He dislikes being one targeted because of them but he still, despite all the trouble that it has caused him, loves having a unique ability no matter how much he may deny it outright. He enjoys the flow of combat and views it as a form of self expression and that a way a person fights says many things about the person. He is also a person whom doesn't mind being shouted at or demeaned. Terry, due to his time as a priest in training, also is a person who is neutral towards people in general and doesn't judge them based on their past but what they are doing right now.
History:
Born in southern Ireland to a woman named Michelle Leon and a father named Brandon Adair he (Terry) is the oldest son of the two children they had. Terry's mother was attacked by a crazed individual (whom was not seen again after the attack presumably he was caught or he died somewhere) and was hurt during her pregnancy but recovered due in no small part to the help of the town's doctor. Terry's parents where unimportant in the overall scheme of things with his mother being a nurse and his father being a construction worker and had only met when their friend introduced them to each other. Terry himself was often left with his rough and unready father whom showed he had little patience for little Terry but did his best to take care of him none the less being that Terry was his son and he wasn't about to become an abusive alcoholic father. His mother also took time to be with him when she could but was often to tired to do much and often got into fights with Brandon on who would raise Terry.
Eventually Terry was handed over to his uncle who lived nearby and worked at home as a farmer and was a devout catholic. Terry was raised there the majority of the time by his aunt Rose whom loved him like the son she couldn't have. Terry was often read parts of the bible and about the history of Ireland itself by Rose who was patient and understand of people who where not catholic unlike the more stubborn uncle. When he was old enough he split his time between reading and working with his dad on small projects that he was old enough for,which were few and far between and often it was unpleasant but respectable work none the less, and working on the farm that his uncle
As he grew older he noticed that he himself was a more physically tougher boy than his friends and classmates due to in no small part to the hard farming life he lived and the work with his father. When he got into a childish fist fight he often ended up giving people bloody noses and or outright overpowering kids who were from backgrounds that weren't like his. School itself was an strange ordeal and one that he didn't specifically excel at for the most part but did well enough. He wasn't a book smart child but liked the stories and challenges that came with reading and things like science and math. While his father helped him with math his mother and aunt helped him with his other projects and studies. He grew especially close to his aunt and started to go to church with her after school and learned to be tolerant of others but also to enjoy and praise the holy bible. However the arrival of his younger brother changed his life.
Terry was often annoyed by his little brother's crying and the attention given towards him by his mother Michelle caused him to spend more and more time with his extended family. However he often was in charge of his younger brother and was there for him when his parents where not and even his first word was Terry. Terry was there for his first steps and when he hurt himself with scraped knees. It was more out of a respect for family than love for his imminent sibling that he did those things though. When Terry became a teenager he started to consider a teaching career despite pushes to become an athlete by his dad and uncle. When things got to stressful in Terry's life he was often found going to churches to talk out his problems. His local priest, Father Mance, was often kind and considerate towards the boy despite not being from around here, coming from Russia, and became a mentor figure for young Terry. His little brother tried to keep up with him but failed miserably in his attempts to do so. And gradually Terry began to slip away from his family and more towards those around him. He had few and far between girlfriends and eventually he started to burrow himself into studying languages hoping to become a language teacher with the help of his mentor Father Mance. His most treasured item during this time was a Celtic cross worn by Mance until Terry's sixteenth birthday.
Towards the end of his school years Terry and his younger brother were out for a stroll when Terry and his brother were both attacked by a strange being whom was protecting a nearby playground they were walking past where a boy had died two weeks prior. Terry and his brother were afraid of the being though Terry's own inner strength made him brave enough to take most of the bad shots for his younger brother who insisted that he save himself. Terry was only aware of this being due to the fact that he had a strange sixth sense of sorts that allowed him to interact and see beings that passed on and his younger brother only had a basic awareness of it seeing the horrifying creature that was attacking them as a blurred vision compared to Terry whom saw the being in it's whole. Their father saw them being attacked and rushed to their aid despite not knowing what as happening and not being spiritually aware and only hurt himself in the process. Terry and his brother were almost certainly going to die until Father Mance steeped into the fight with a big brown war hammer. Father Mance displayed abilities that no one could have predicted and quickly dispatched the monster with ruthless ease which frightened young Terry. Much to Father Mance's annoyance before he could finish the monster off he was interrupted by a man in a black and white robes and was the lieutenant of a squad of some sort. The man made the monster vanish and then turned on Mance saying that he should have not gotten involved in which Mance retorted he didn't intend to let shinigami come late and cost boys their lives.
The man ignored that statement and went to erase the memory of Terry and the others despite his brother's arguments. Mance intervened on behalf of his student Terry saying the boy involuntarily used something called Fullbringer powers during the fight which Terry was confused about and told him that he didn't want his memories removed and that was a statement his younger brother agreed with. The Lieutenant gave Mance a deal after a firm argument from both parties and wiped out his brother's memories of this while keeping Terry. While his brother and father were sent to the hospital Mance and Terry both went back to the local chapel and Mance personally took care of Terry saying from this point forth that Terry's life would never be the same. Terry said he knew it wouldn't be but that's what he asked for.
Terry and Mance became in tangled in training in the outbacks of southern Ireland and occasionally France where they trained in the mountains. Mance told him about the basics of what was happening such as Hollows and Soul Reapers and told Terry he was like himself, a being known as a Fullbringer and that his mother had been attacked by a Hollow before his birth and some of that being's energy resided in him. Terry was a slow learner but he improved and eventually grew to have a certain strength in his Fullbringer power being able to conjure up a Claymore from his Celtic Cross. After this Terry and Mance left Ireland and France behind and left for Japan. Terry at this point had learned some Russian and Japanese due to Mance's recommendation due to Japan being where things normally hit the fan. Terry spent time as a priest in training there but gave that up once he had trouble coping with the trouble that came with knowing of the existence of the Soul Society. However he still followed the beliefs installed in him by his aunt and uncle. His brother often tried to contact Terry to little success normally. Terry would eventually gain a firm understanding of Japan after some year or so being there. Mance let Terry live his own life and was sent to a school where Mance's friend was a principal and gave him a spot for tutoring English for students.
Terry grew comfortable with his life up until his twenty first birthday where he came home from a party with his newer friend and companions only to find the church that Father Mance lived in was under attack. Terry was unable to find Mance until it was to late. Mance had been left lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood and his last words to Terry were that he was proud of the man the boy had become and that this wasn't his fault. Making his own path was far more important than the life of an aging priest. Mance pasted from this world as the same Shinigami came and brought him to the new world Terry took his money and quit his tutoring job after a week later and left for his home in Ireland. In his time in Tokyo he had only encountered a dozen hollows and only three of which he defeated himself. Terry's life would live the rest of his days there he decided before one day a strange ornate letter was given to him and a man requested his appearance and it was signed anonymously but the details inside of it proclaimed frightening knowledge of Terry's Fullbringer status. He was determined to find out who it was who sent this letter to him. |
5,649 | 155 | 6 | 1,370 | 1,861 | Peeking up again from her game Alexis again studied her surroundings, that strange priest guy was attempting to wake the other napping man, the one who wasn't stinking up the whole place.
With a shrug Alexis put her game down for a moment and reached into her bag again, rustling around before taking out a pack of gummy lollies and ripping the packet open loudly, the noise really couldn't be helped with these plastic things. Once open she set it down on the little tray in front of her and reached in, grabbing a couple and eating them as she picked up her game again,
Alexis had been growing steadily irritated by the man behind her, about ready to get up and move yet she didn't want to go drawing attention to herself, so with as much self control as she could muster she focused on her game and nothing else, until a coin fell down onto her head and fell to the chair beside her, with frustrated sigh she picked up the coin and examined it for a second. Clutching it in her hand she returned to her game, with no intention of finding out where exactly this coin came from. | Name: Alexis Falk
Gender: Female
Weight: 55kg
Height: 5,4
Age: 21
Languages known: English and minor Japanese
Appearance:
She wears what is in the image, along with baggy black pants and combat boots that she never ties up properly. In the cold she has a thick, dark tan jacket.
Quincy Uniform
When in her Quincy uniform, Alexis wears a simple white tank top and simple white shorts, with white knee high boots that have a small heal and come to a slight point at the toe, the shoes have blue laces and a blue line over all the seams of the shoes.
Over all of this Alexis has a sleeveless coat, at the front it only reaches only to her stomach, as it reaches the side of her body it starts becoming long enough to reach the back of her heal, this again is white and is lined around the hems and seams in blue, with the Quincy insignia stretching over the upper back. Under this coat she keeps a small white pouch in which she can store her items.
Quincy abilities:
Like all Quincy, Alexis is able to use Hirenkyaku, An advanced Quincy moving technique that allows for high-speed movements by riding on the flow of Reishi created below the user's feet.
And the Blut, A Quincy ability that gives a practitioner inhuman defensive and offensive capability. By making Reishi flow into their blood vessels, Quincy increase their attack and defense power drastically. Though Blut is significantly dangerous, it has one big flaw; the two forms of Blut for attack and defense work using two different Reishi systems, so they cannot be used at the same time. Echt Quincy inherits it from birth while Gemischt Quincy must train to attain it.
Alexis of course is also extremely good at archery and practices it often as a hobby in her spare and to keep her skills from diminishing, Her Quincy bow is called forth from her necklace at will,
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Average Spiritual Awareness
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor:
Alexis possesses a couple of Gintō, A capsule-shaped tool used by Quincy to store their Reiryoku. It is an antiquated tool, but the use of it allows Quincy to perform certain techniques. She keeps these in a small white pouch that is hidden under her Quincy uniform coat, and her Quincy Cross Is a necklace on a silver chain, one that she is never seen without.
Personality:
Unlike most other Quincy who are trained posh and formal with some kind of intelligence and efficiency in battle, Alexis is rather the opposite as she can be rash in her choice of attacks, with an attitude problem and a habit for not listening when she is suppose too. Maybe even a little quick tempered at the worst of times.
Despite all this though Alexis is loyal and trusting to her friends, not that she has many friends to begin with. But like most Quincy she still has that loathing towards Soul Reapers, and will act rather unkindly towards them even though she will act unkindly towards any stranger who approaches her.
She is a bit of a rebel as well when it comes to not paying attention or choosing to ignore the rules. playing by her own set of rules rather than those she had been taught as a Quincy, Alexis has never been good at playing with others either and would rather battle alone than be aided by another, not that she wouldn't appreciate the help if someone did come along but she wouldn't openly show this.
Alexis likes to smoke all the time, though she is obviously suffering from it with coughing fits that hit her at random times and shortage of breath of course, something she however pretends isn't as bad as it really is, and if offered will willingly and happily participate in drinks through this is something she can easily lose control over, the tattoos on her right arm are a result of one such time, she doesn't like to talk about this particular event.
History:
Alexis was never born or raised in Japan, and in fact never set foot in Karakura town until she was at least 19 years of age, having moved here on her own to get away from her family whim all reside in some other part of the world. In the Australian and New Zealand area of the world to be exact. Alexis was raised by her mother on a small far, a quiet place where she could carry out her Quincy training without hindrance from Society, and living not to far from her and her mother were her relatives, her uncle and aunt.
Though even though she lived away from Society it did not mean that she was safe from Hollows or never meet a soul reaper, Being told at a very young age that they were her enemies.
Alexis never liked this life and would have often sneak out to town where she hung out with friends, getting in to trouble with the police and with her family on numerous occasions, though she didn't care she preferred the rush of trouble over her Quincy training and her life that was chosen for her, only ever learning what she needed to know, and no more than that so that she wasn't seen as a threat and left alone.
When Alexis turned 19 she find the opportunity to leave her home and her family behind, forgetting about them and wishing to start fresh a new life, where she could do what she wanted when she wanted. However was unaware that the town she had planned to move to was renown for it's spiritual activity, and what she tried to escape from would become something she would have to rely on, more often than she would like.
Living alone in an old apartment Alexis goes to a school to learn Japanese, even though language isn't something she was ever good at learning, and has a small part time job, aside from hollow hunting and Soul reaper taunting. And even though she has next to no friends in this new town, the Quincy is enjoying her new home and her new life away from strict rules and constant training, Living life how she sees fit just how she wanted, for now at least. |
5,650 | 155 | 7 | 926 | 775 | You got a point. Bryce started. Now that he was awake Bryce could tell that this man had an irish accent. He could not tell if it was real or fake because Bryce had never heard an irish speak before. It almost made Bryce want to laugh because he had only heard n irish speak on tv or in movies. Then he noticed the letter that this man had pulled out. Bryce reached in his carry on bag and pulled out a letter in similar packaging. "Yes, I am going to guess that whomever sent these letters wants to make use of our skills in some way or another." He stated as he started to look for something. "Something just crossed my mind. Sir are you a Quincy?" Bryce asked the irish fellow he was talking to. | Name: Bryce Lee
Nicknames: Shooting Dragon
Gender: Male
Weight: 175lbs.
Height: 6'0
Age: 22
Languages known: English, Some Japanese
Appearance:
Quincy Ability:
Basic Reishi Manipulation: At a young age Bryce was taught how to manipulate reishi in his surrounding in order to form a spirit bow. His mastery over this technique isn't perfect because he abandoned his formal training before it was complete, but he can use it to take down an average hollow.
Spirit Bow: Bryce's training as a Quincy has taught him to generate a bow by collecting reishi and combining it with his which he calls his Doragon (ドラゴン literally means: Dragon)
Quincy Cross Appearance/Description:
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Slightly Below Average
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor: None for now.
Personality:
Bryce comes off as a rather serious person but can be funny once he opens up his shell to you. He was not raised knowing many living people as a child so he tends to only socialize with the dead until he knows he can trust you. Once you do earn his trust he tends to make witty and sarcastic remarks at you. When talking to females he does end up being a bit more flirty and he acts more confrontational when speaking to men. With his training by his mother and the military he tends to try and think of three or more answers before he takes the time to respond making him the last to act in any situation.
In battle Bryce immediately takes the time for his first thought to analyze and assess the situation he places himself in. His training in the army has him look at shooting vantage points and locations that can stop a ranged attack opposed to a spot that would leave him wide open to a volley of bullet. Like wise in his hollow hunting he tends to fire his Spirit Bow from a concealed location if he can't find definite cover. Like all other situation in battle Bryce usually is last to move but this is because he spends most of his time in battle thinking of the best possible way to finish a battle in as few shots as possible. However, if he cannot finish a battle quick he will do what he can to stay on his toes until he can get a clear shot in.
History:
Once upon a time there was a hollow known as Young Blood. This hollow was not especially powerful but it was smart and managed to outrun the Soul Society for about a hundred years. That was until he was slaughtered by a blast of concentrated reishi fired by a Quincy. This Quincy was a half-Chinese and half-Japanese girl named Sora Lee. Sora moved from Hong Kong to Karakura town when she was little with her parents because they were being hunted by an exorcist. Sora eventually met a man named Kiba who she slowly fell in love with due to his charm and wit. The problem with being with Kiba was that he came from a family who was not spiritually aware so she kept her powers and family a secret from her lover for a majority of their relationship. It wasn't until after Sora was pregnant that she revealed the existence of the Soul Society and hollows to Kiba. Sadly Kiba was killed by the dreaded hollow Young Blood in front of Sora. This enraged the ferocious Quincy and she destroyed the vile creature while gaining infamy among the Seireitei.
Sora soon felt that she could not live her life in Karakura town. Thus she packed up and relocated to the United States for her child to be born in a nation where he may someday prosper. After three months of living in this nation in a quiet town her son , whom she named Bryce, was born to her. The Shinigami took notice that Sora had relocated to the outskirts of Maine so they relaxed their patrols in her neighborhood not wanting to help extend another line of Quincies. Soon Sora noticed that she was the only protector against hollow attacks. This firmly prompted her to start training Bryce at the age of four in the art of the Quincy.
Bryce Lee accompanied his mother on her hollow hunts until he turned thirteen. Then his mother planned on testing him to see if he could handle hollows on his own and he succeeded to possess the basic mastery over all abilities necessary to take down a hollow. This changed when Bryce turned seventeen because he never enjoyed hunting these hollows and he hated that he was born into a family where he was charged with slaughtering these demons. Although he was selfish and was not willing to let people suffer. He left his mothers house after he graduated high school early to join the United States Army. There he took a job in the Intelligence Department.
Bryce spent the first two years in the Army working Infantry. Being charged as a warrior on the battlefield he used his Quincy training to enhance his reflexes higher than his peers and pinpoint accuracy with a rifle to outdo other soldiers taking lives of the enemy while he fought in the heated climate of Afghanastan and Libya. Even though Bryce was trained to combat hollows he could easily have died if there was a weapon fired at him before he could take notice then he probably would have died. And he knew that. After his second year of fighting on the front lines he requested to be retrained by the Army in their Intelligence Division. There he was charged with plotting battle formulas of military operations. This helped him become a master in military strategy and major battle tactics. Bryce was a model soldier until one day. He explained each possibility to a General, but the commanding officer in question did not take the plan with the least casualties because an other plan could bring greater results. After Bryce offended the General then he was immediately discharged from his career in the Army.
A few months after his job with the Army Bryce received a letter from a mysterious source. Bryce knew he would spent his time partying and wasting the rest of his life if he did not keep himself busy. That notion prompted him to accept the offer and he begun to travel to the airport in question so that he may see what this stranger wants from him.
Other: Bryce has U.S. Army Tattooed vertically from his left shoulder down his back.
Edit: your rules look strange to me. |
5,651 | 155 | 8 | 2,595 | 7,070 | Hehehehe...a fair question I suppose. Those quincy fellows are an interesting bunch. But I am not quincy I'm afraid. I am not a soul reaper either for that matter. Nor am I a hollow...well that's 95% true. It's complicated. Terry commented as he chuckled and twirled around his necklace idly with his thumb. "Speaking of I haven't told you my name have I? I am Terry. Terry Adair at your service my friend." Terry commented with a smile leaning back in his seat but offering his hand out to the boy. "Oh and by the way something fell off your body and went flying somewhere." Terry commented idly. He wasn't entirely sure what to say to this guy. He wasn't one to talk idly about nothing with strangers but this was a special occasion. It wasn't the worst thing in the world and this chap here seemed like he had a good head on his shoulders though. | Name: Terry Adair
Nicknames: The Cross
Gender: Male
Weight: 220 lbs
Height: 6'1
Age: 24
Languages known: English, Japanese, Russian (minor knowledge)
Appearance:
Brown/black hair and green eyes
( - His lower body is a normal pair of jeans or sweat pants and under the coat is a nondescript grey shirt
!( "enter image title here")
Fullbringer Ability: Cross of Scaffold (クロス·オブ·スキャッフォルド, Kurosu obu Sukyafforudo): Using Fullbring, Terry is able to transform the Celtic Cross pendant on his necklace into a large Claymore. The blade is a long, very wide, double-edged form of a longsword. The crossguard consists of a small emerald gem at the center and two straight ornate arms ending in simplistic version of a fleur-de-lis. The sword's handle runs through its guard, continuing on through a gold hollow space at the base of its blade. The handle is almost the same length of the blade itself. This part of the handle allows Terry to attack opponents at closer ranges. By gripping the handle near the base of his broadsword's blade and swinging the Cross of Scaffold around, Though he has trouble doing so Terry can generate certain amounts of light green Reiryoku which sheathes itself over the blade. When he swings the sword at his desired target it unleashes a small wave of energy in the shape of a blade that can cut through enemies. This requires effort on his own behalf to do so since he only had basic training since he left Tokyo.
Fullbringer Item Appearance/Description: (
(
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Average Spiritual Awareness
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor: None
Personality: Terry is a man raised on catholic beliefs and doesn't normally partake in alcohol or over consumption of foods. He is a tolerant person and is very calm normally but when angered becomes a very serious person. He is not fond of large groups as he prefers being able to talk to people individually without being interrupted and groups in general make him uncomfortable. As a person he is not one to proscribe to romance of any sort but he finds the idea interesting in itself. That being said he is not one to completely obstinate from liking another person romantically. He is not a very funny individual and any jokes he makes tend to be pretty lame or lack clever thought behind them. As a combatant he is serious and directly to the point not afraid of using dirty tricks to win the day but doesn't enjoy doing so. He has a distaste for the Soul Society and says that people should be free to make their own choices in life.
Terry's Fullbringer powers leave him with a sense of magnitude and a sense of dread. He dislikes being one targeted because of them but he still, despite all the trouble that it has caused him, loves having a unique ability no matter how much he may deny it outright. He enjoys the flow of combat and views it as a form of self expression and that a way a person fights says many things about the person. He is also a person whom doesn't mind being shouted at or demeaned. Terry, due to his time as a priest in training, also is a person who is neutral towards people in general and doesn't judge them based on their past but what they are doing right now.
History:
Born in southern Ireland to a woman named Michelle Leon and a father named Brandon Adair he (Terry) is the oldest son of the two children they had. Terry's mother was attacked by a crazed individual (whom was not seen again after the attack presumably he was caught or he died somewhere) and was hurt during her pregnancy but recovered due in no small part to the help of the town's doctor. Terry's parents where unimportant in the overall scheme of things with his mother being a nurse and his father being a construction worker and had only met when their friend introduced them to each other. Terry himself was often left with his rough and unready father whom showed he had little patience for little Terry but did his best to take care of him none the less being that Terry was his son and he wasn't about to become an abusive alcoholic father. His mother also took time to be with him when she could but was often to tired to do much and often got into fights with Brandon on who would raise Terry.
Eventually Terry was handed over to his uncle who lived nearby and worked at home as a farmer and was a devout catholic. Terry was raised there the majority of the time by his aunt Rose whom loved him like the son she couldn't have. Terry was often read parts of the bible and about the history of Ireland itself by Rose who was patient and understand of people who where not catholic unlike the more stubborn uncle. When he was old enough he split his time between reading and working with his dad on small projects that he was old enough for,which were few and far between and often it was unpleasant but respectable work none the less, and working on the farm that his uncle
As he grew older he noticed that he himself was a more physically tougher boy than his friends and classmates due to in no small part to the hard farming life he lived and the work with his father. When he got into a childish fist fight he often ended up giving people bloody noses and or outright overpowering kids who were from backgrounds that weren't like his. School itself was an strange ordeal and one that he didn't specifically excel at for the most part but did well enough. He wasn't a book smart child but liked the stories and challenges that came with reading and things like science and math. While his father helped him with math his mother and aunt helped him with his other projects and studies. He grew especially close to his aunt and started to go to church with her after school and learned to be tolerant of others but also to enjoy and praise the holy bible. However the arrival of his younger brother changed his life.
Terry was often annoyed by his little brother's crying and the attention given towards him by his mother Michelle caused him to spend more and more time with his extended family. However he often was in charge of his younger brother and was there for him when his parents where not and even his first word was Terry. Terry was there for his first steps and when he hurt himself with scraped knees. It was more out of a respect for family than love for his imminent sibling that he did those things though. When Terry became a teenager he started to consider a teaching career despite pushes to become an athlete by his dad and uncle. When things got to stressful in Terry's life he was often found going to churches to talk out his problems. His local priest, Father Mance, was often kind and considerate towards the boy despite not being from around here, coming from Russia, and became a mentor figure for young Terry. His little brother tried to keep up with him but failed miserably in his attempts to do so. And gradually Terry began to slip away from his family and more towards those around him. He had few and far between girlfriends and eventually he started to burrow himself into studying languages hoping to become a language teacher with the help of his mentor Father Mance. His most treasured item during this time was a Celtic cross worn by Mance until Terry's sixteenth birthday.
Towards the end of his school years Terry and his younger brother were out for a stroll when Terry and his brother were both attacked by a strange being whom was protecting a nearby playground they were walking past where a boy had died two weeks prior. Terry and his brother were afraid of the being though Terry's own inner strength made him brave enough to take most of the bad shots for his younger brother who insisted that he save himself. Terry was only aware of this being due to the fact that he had a strange sixth sense of sorts that allowed him to interact and see beings that passed on and his younger brother only had a basic awareness of it seeing the horrifying creature that was attacking them as a blurred vision compared to Terry whom saw the being in it's whole. Their father saw them being attacked and rushed to their aid despite not knowing what as happening and not being spiritually aware and only hurt himself in the process. Terry and his brother were almost certainly going to die until Father Mance steeped into the fight with a big brown war hammer. Father Mance displayed abilities that no one could have predicted and quickly dispatched the monster with ruthless ease which frightened young Terry. Much to Father Mance's annoyance before he could finish the monster off he was interrupted by a man in a black and white robes and was the lieutenant of a squad of some sort. The man made the monster vanish and then turned on Mance saying that he should have not gotten involved in which Mance retorted he didn't intend to let shinigami come late and cost boys their lives.
The man ignored that statement and went to erase the memory of Terry and the others despite his brother's arguments. Mance intervened on behalf of his student Terry saying the boy involuntarily used something called Fullbringer powers during the fight which Terry was confused about and told him that he didn't want his memories removed and that was a statement his younger brother agreed with. The Lieutenant gave Mance a deal after a firm argument from both parties and wiped out his brother's memories of this while keeping Terry. While his brother and father were sent to the hospital Mance and Terry both went back to the local chapel and Mance personally took care of Terry saying from this point forth that Terry's life would never be the same. Terry said he knew it wouldn't be but that's what he asked for.
Terry and Mance became in tangled in training in the outbacks of southern Ireland and occasionally France where they trained in the mountains. Mance told him about the basics of what was happening such as Hollows and Soul Reapers and told Terry he was like himself, a being known as a Fullbringer and that his mother had been attacked by a Hollow before his birth and some of that being's energy resided in him. Terry was a slow learner but he improved and eventually grew to have a certain strength in his Fullbringer power being able to conjure up a Claymore from his Celtic Cross. After this Terry and Mance left Ireland and France behind and left for Japan. Terry at this point had learned some Russian and Japanese due to Mance's recommendation due to Japan being where things normally hit the fan. Terry spent time as a priest in training there but gave that up once he had trouble coping with the trouble that came with knowing of the existence of the Soul Society. However he still followed the beliefs installed in him by his aunt and uncle. His brother often tried to contact Terry to little success normally. Terry would eventually gain a firm understanding of Japan after some year or so being there. Mance let Terry live his own life and was sent to a school where Mance's friend was a principal and gave him a spot for tutoring English for students.
Terry grew comfortable with his life up until his twenty first birthday where he came home from a party with his newer friend and companions only to find the church that Father Mance lived in was under attack. Terry was unable to find Mance until it was to late. Mance had been left lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood and his last words to Terry were that he was proud of the man the boy had become and that this wasn't his fault. Making his own path was far more important than the life of an aging priest. Mance pasted from this world as the same Shinigami came and brought him to the new world Terry took his money and quit his tutoring job after a week later and left for his home in Ireland. In his time in Tokyo he had only encountered a dozen hollows and only three of which he defeated himself. Terry's life would live the rest of his days there he decided before one day a strange ornate letter was given to him and a man requested his appearance and it was signed anonymously but the details inside of it proclaimed frightening knowledge of Terry's Fullbringer status. He was determined to find out who it was who sent this letter to him. |
5,652 | 155 | 9 | 926 | 775 | Bryce Lee. Bryce stated as he shook the man's hand. Bryce had to pause and think that this man with a cross was not a quincy but he carried a cross. By the sound of his accent he had to be either an English or Irish practitioner of Christianity. Well it didn't exactly matter as much as it did that this guy was not from the seireitei or a hollow. How was not being a hollow was only 95% of the truth? That bugged Bryce since he liked to know the variables of battle before actually engaging. That held true for if he was fighting against or along side this individual. Bryce then realized he was wasting brainpower by over thinking it because he did seem like nice guy. Either that or he was an assassin who planned out this whole thing to get under Bryce's guard and kill him from behind. But hollows were all supposed to be monsters. His mother did mention something about there being powerful hollows that resembled a human form. Whether this man was an insanely powerful hollow or not, it was a waste of brain power thinking about it if he couldn't see any skills.
Then Bryce realized that this man pointed to the direction of his coin. "Excuse me for a minute." He told Terry Adair as he began to stroll down the aisle. He quickly made his way to a women who looked like she was focused intensely on a sort of game. Bryce wasn't one for games since he broke his Gameboy a the age of six. Even then his mother only gave it to him when he had complete down time. By down time it meant that he could not be doing a single other thing to better himself except having mario jump on top of koopas. After waiting for a moment he reached at her ears and pulled her head phone out so she could hear him. "Excuse me, did my coin land over here?" | Name: Bryce Lee
Nicknames: Shooting Dragon
Gender: Male
Weight: 175lbs.
Height: 6'0
Age: 22
Languages known: English, Some Japanese
Appearance:
Quincy Ability:
Basic Reishi Manipulation: At a young age Bryce was taught how to manipulate reishi in his surrounding in order to form a spirit bow. His mastery over this technique isn't perfect because he abandoned his formal training before it was complete, but he can use it to take down an average hollow.
Spirit Bow: Bryce's training as a Quincy has taught him to generate a bow by collecting reishi and combining it with his which he calls his Doragon (ドラゴン literally means: Dragon)
Quincy Cross Appearance/Description:
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Slightly Below Average
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor: None for now.
Personality:
Bryce comes off as a rather serious person but can be funny once he opens up his shell to you. He was not raised knowing many living people as a child so he tends to only socialize with the dead until he knows he can trust you. Once you do earn his trust he tends to make witty and sarcastic remarks at you. When talking to females he does end up being a bit more flirty and he acts more confrontational when speaking to men. With his training by his mother and the military he tends to try and think of three or more answers before he takes the time to respond making him the last to act in any situation.
In battle Bryce immediately takes the time for his first thought to analyze and assess the situation he places himself in. His training in the army has him look at shooting vantage points and locations that can stop a ranged attack opposed to a spot that would leave him wide open to a volley of bullet. Like wise in his hollow hunting he tends to fire his Spirit Bow from a concealed location if he can't find definite cover. Like all other situation in battle Bryce usually is last to move but this is because he spends most of his time in battle thinking of the best possible way to finish a battle in as few shots as possible. However, if he cannot finish a battle quick he will do what he can to stay on his toes until he can get a clear shot in.
History:
Once upon a time there was a hollow known as Young Blood. This hollow was not especially powerful but it was smart and managed to outrun the Soul Society for about a hundred years. That was until he was slaughtered by a blast of concentrated reishi fired by a Quincy. This Quincy was a half-Chinese and half-Japanese girl named Sora Lee. Sora moved from Hong Kong to Karakura town when she was little with her parents because they were being hunted by an exorcist. Sora eventually met a man named Kiba who she slowly fell in love with due to his charm and wit. The problem with being with Kiba was that he came from a family who was not spiritually aware so she kept her powers and family a secret from her lover for a majority of their relationship. It wasn't until after Sora was pregnant that she revealed the existence of the Soul Society and hollows to Kiba. Sadly Kiba was killed by the dreaded hollow Young Blood in front of Sora. This enraged the ferocious Quincy and she destroyed the vile creature while gaining infamy among the Seireitei.
Sora soon felt that she could not live her life in Karakura town. Thus she packed up and relocated to the United States for her child to be born in a nation where he may someday prosper. After three months of living in this nation in a quiet town her son , whom she named Bryce, was born to her. The Shinigami took notice that Sora had relocated to the outskirts of Maine so they relaxed their patrols in her neighborhood not wanting to help extend another line of Quincies. Soon Sora noticed that she was the only protector against hollow attacks. This firmly prompted her to start training Bryce at the age of four in the art of the Quincy.
Bryce Lee accompanied his mother on her hollow hunts until he turned thirteen. Then his mother planned on testing him to see if he could handle hollows on his own and he succeeded to possess the basic mastery over all abilities necessary to take down a hollow. This changed when Bryce turned seventeen because he never enjoyed hunting these hollows and he hated that he was born into a family where he was charged with slaughtering these demons. Although he was selfish and was not willing to let people suffer. He left his mothers house after he graduated high school early to join the United States Army. There he took a job in the Intelligence Department.
Bryce spent the first two years in the Army working Infantry. Being charged as a warrior on the battlefield he used his Quincy training to enhance his reflexes higher than his peers and pinpoint accuracy with a rifle to outdo other soldiers taking lives of the enemy while he fought in the heated climate of Afghanastan and Libya. Even though Bryce was trained to combat hollows he could easily have died if there was a weapon fired at him before he could take notice then he probably would have died. And he knew that. After his second year of fighting on the front lines he requested to be retrained by the Army in their Intelligence Division. There he was charged with plotting battle formulas of military operations. This helped him become a master in military strategy and major battle tactics. Bryce was a model soldier until one day. He explained each possibility to a General, but the commanding officer in question did not take the plan with the least casualties because an other plan could bring greater results. After Bryce offended the General then he was immediately discharged from his career in the Army.
A few months after his job with the Army Bryce received a letter from a mysterious source. Bryce knew he would spent his time partying and wasting the rest of his life if he did not keep himself busy. That notion prompted him to accept the offer and he begun to travel to the airport in question so that he may see what this stranger wants from him.
Other: Bryce has U.S. Army Tattooed vertically from his left shoulder down his back.
Edit: your rules look strange to me. |
5,653 | 155 | 10 | 1,370 | 1,861 | Alexis was far to caught up in her game now to hear what the two men were talking about, as it was also a way to distract herself from everything around her, like the man who slept behind her or how stiff she was feeling from sitting on this plane for so long, she seriously needed to get back on solid land but until then she would just have to endure it.
It was just when she was getting to the good part during a cut scene, that she suddenly found the volume of her game lacking, and the feeling of her headphone being yanked from her ear.
"Hey!" She said said with a raised voice as she tried to grab for her headphone, the guy started to ask about a coin that fell over here, however uninterested in such a thing she turned her gaze back to her game device and huffed.
"You made me miss the good part, thanks a lot" She sounded rather annoyed "Yea, your coin fell here. You should take better care next time" Alexis was rather rude when she spoke, as she tossed him back his coin.
Now put off of her game Alexis turned off the power and put the device back in her bag, she found no point in saving it since she missed one of the most important parts of the game. | Name: Alexis Falk
Gender: Female
Weight: 55kg
Height: 5,4
Age: 21
Languages known: English and minor Japanese
Appearance:
She wears what is in the image, along with baggy black pants and combat boots that she never ties up properly. In the cold she has a thick, dark tan jacket.
Quincy Uniform
When in her Quincy uniform, Alexis wears a simple white tank top and simple white shorts, with white knee high boots that have a small heal and come to a slight point at the toe, the shoes have blue laces and a blue line over all the seams of the shoes.
Over all of this Alexis has a sleeveless coat, at the front it only reaches only to her stomach, as it reaches the side of her body it starts becoming long enough to reach the back of her heal, this again is white and is lined around the hems and seams in blue, with the Quincy insignia stretching over the upper back. Under this coat she keeps a small white pouch in which she can store her items.
Quincy abilities:
Like all Quincy, Alexis is able to use Hirenkyaku, An advanced Quincy moving technique that allows for high-speed movements by riding on the flow of Reishi created below the user's feet.
And the Blut, A Quincy ability that gives a practitioner inhuman defensive and offensive capability. By making Reishi flow into their blood vessels, Quincy increase their attack and defense power drastically. Though Blut is significantly dangerous, it has one big flaw; the two forms of Blut for attack and defense work using two different Reishi systems, so they cannot be used at the same time. Echt Quincy inherits it from birth while Gemischt Quincy must train to attain it.
Alexis of course is also extremely good at archery and practices it often as a hobby in her spare and to keep her skills from diminishing, Her Quincy bow is called forth from her necklace at will,
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Average Spiritual Awareness
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor:
Alexis possesses a couple of Gintō, A capsule-shaped tool used by Quincy to store their Reiryoku. It is an antiquated tool, but the use of it allows Quincy to perform certain techniques. She keeps these in a small white pouch that is hidden under her Quincy uniform coat, and her Quincy Cross Is a necklace on a silver chain, one that she is never seen without.
Personality:
Unlike most other Quincy who are trained posh and formal with some kind of intelligence and efficiency in battle, Alexis is rather the opposite as she can be rash in her choice of attacks, with an attitude problem and a habit for not listening when she is suppose too. Maybe even a little quick tempered at the worst of times.
Despite all this though Alexis is loyal and trusting to her friends, not that she has many friends to begin with. But like most Quincy she still has that loathing towards Soul Reapers, and will act rather unkindly towards them even though she will act unkindly towards any stranger who approaches her.
She is a bit of a rebel as well when it comes to not paying attention or choosing to ignore the rules. playing by her own set of rules rather than those she had been taught as a Quincy, Alexis has never been good at playing with others either and would rather battle alone than be aided by another, not that she wouldn't appreciate the help if someone did come along but she wouldn't openly show this.
Alexis likes to smoke all the time, though she is obviously suffering from it with coughing fits that hit her at random times and shortage of breath of course, something she however pretends isn't as bad as it really is, and if offered will willingly and happily participate in drinks through this is something she can easily lose control over, the tattoos on her right arm are a result of one such time, she doesn't like to talk about this particular event.
History:
Alexis was never born or raised in Japan, and in fact never set foot in Karakura town until she was at least 19 years of age, having moved here on her own to get away from her family whim all reside in some other part of the world. In the Australian and New Zealand area of the world to be exact. Alexis was raised by her mother on a small far, a quiet place where she could carry out her Quincy training without hindrance from Society, and living not to far from her and her mother were her relatives, her uncle and aunt.
Though even though she lived away from Society it did not mean that she was safe from Hollows or never meet a soul reaper, Being told at a very young age that they were her enemies.
Alexis never liked this life and would have often sneak out to town where she hung out with friends, getting in to trouble with the police and with her family on numerous occasions, though she didn't care she preferred the rush of trouble over her Quincy training and her life that was chosen for her, only ever learning what she needed to know, and no more than that so that she wasn't seen as a threat and left alone.
When Alexis turned 19 she find the opportunity to leave her home and her family behind, forgetting about them and wishing to start fresh a new life, where she could do what she wanted when she wanted. However was unaware that the town she had planned to move to was renown for it's spiritual activity, and what she tried to escape from would become something she would have to rely on, more often than she would like.
Living alone in an old apartment Alexis goes to a school to learn Japanese, even though language isn't something she was ever good at learning, and has a small part time job, aside from hollow hunting and Soul reaper taunting. And even though she has next to no friends in this new town, the Quincy is enjoying her new home and her new life away from strict rules and constant training, Living life how she sees fit just how she wanted, for now at least. |
5,654 | 155 | 11 | 926 | 775 | Bryce was a tad bit startled when this woman appeared so rude to him. Then again it was probably the natural response since he carelessly pulled her ear plug out so he could speak to her. Then again how was he going to talk if she was blocking her audio sensors. He may have been the rude one but he did not exactly approve of people who lived on their headphones either. He grabbed the coin in midair as she threw it at him. "Well then." He said as he walked away. He was not going to apologize because he only did what felt natural to him. Then again if this does end up being a hollow hunter assignment it could bite him in the butt if she doesn't get along with him.
Bryce made his way back to his seat. He already made his introductions with the european,Terry Adair. There was the sleeping man in front and the rude woman who sat a row in front of that. Anyone could be a potential hollow hunter or they could indeed be the person in charge of recruiting them. Hollow hunting was a spiritual experience so it would make sense for the woman with the headphones to be the secretary of mysterious messenger rather than a spiritual being. Then again she had to be a good actress to fit that role. Terry Adair was also a mystery since he admitted to being a sort of hollow hunter but gave a riddle to what he was. Then the sleeping man who was a bigger mystery than everyone. Either way Bryce was wasting a bit of brainpower on information that will be told to him eventually. | Name: Bryce Lee
Nicknames: Shooting Dragon
Gender: Male
Weight: 175lbs.
Height: 6'0
Age: 22
Languages known: English, Some Japanese
Appearance:
Quincy Ability:
Basic Reishi Manipulation: At a young age Bryce was taught how to manipulate reishi in his surrounding in order to form a spirit bow. His mastery over this technique isn't perfect because he abandoned his formal training before it was complete, but he can use it to take down an average hollow.
Spirit Bow: Bryce's training as a Quincy has taught him to generate a bow by collecting reishi and combining it with his which he calls his Doragon (ドラゴン literally means: Dragon)
Quincy Cross Appearance/Description:
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Slightly Below Average
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor: None for now.
Personality:
Bryce comes off as a rather serious person but can be funny once he opens up his shell to you. He was not raised knowing many living people as a child so he tends to only socialize with the dead until he knows he can trust you. Once you do earn his trust he tends to make witty and sarcastic remarks at you. When talking to females he does end up being a bit more flirty and he acts more confrontational when speaking to men. With his training by his mother and the military he tends to try and think of three or more answers before he takes the time to respond making him the last to act in any situation.
In battle Bryce immediately takes the time for his first thought to analyze and assess the situation he places himself in. His training in the army has him look at shooting vantage points and locations that can stop a ranged attack opposed to a spot that would leave him wide open to a volley of bullet. Like wise in his hollow hunting he tends to fire his Spirit Bow from a concealed location if he can't find definite cover. Like all other situation in battle Bryce usually is last to move but this is because he spends most of his time in battle thinking of the best possible way to finish a battle in as few shots as possible. However, if he cannot finish a battle quick he will do what he can to stay on his toes until he can get a clear shot in.
History:
Once upon a time there was a hollow known as Young Blood. This hollow was not especially powerful but it was smart and managed to outrun the Soul Society for about a hundred years. That was until he was slaughtered by a blast of concentrated reishi fired by a Quincy. This Quincy was a half-Chinese and half-Japanese girl named Sora Lee. Sora moved from Hong Kong to Karakura town when she was little with her parents because they were being hunted by an exorcist. Sora eventually met a man named Kiba who she slowly fell in love with due to his charm and wit. The problem with being with Kiba was that he came from a family who was not spiritually aware so she kept her powers and family a secret from her lover for a majority of their relationship. It wasn't until after Sora was pregnant that she revealed the existence of the Soul Society and hollows to Kiba. Sadly Kiba was killed by the dreaded hollow Young Blood in front of Sora. This enraged the ferocious Quincy and she destroyed the vile creature while gaining infamy among the Seireitei.
Sora soon felt that she could not live her life in Karakura town. Thus she packed up and relocated to the United States for her child to be born in a nation where he may someday prosper. After three months of living in this nation in a quiet town her son , whom she named Bryce, was born to her. The Shinigami took notice that Sora had relocated to the outskirts of Maine so they relaxed their patrols in her neighborhood not wanting to help extend another line of Quincies. Soon Sora noticed that she was the only protector against hollow attacks. This firmly prompted her to start training Bryce at the age of four in the art of the Quincy.
Bryce Lee accompanied his mother on her hollow hunts until he turned thirteen. Then his mother planned on testing him to see if he could handle hollows on his own and he succeeded to possess the basic mastery over all abilities necessary to take down a hollow. This changed when Bryce turned seventeen because he never enjoyed hunting these hollows and he hated that he was born into a family where he was charged with slaughtering these demons. Although he was selfish and was not willing to let people suffer. He left his mothers house after he graduated high school early to join the United States Army. There he took a job in the Intelligence Department.
Bryce spent the first two years in the Army working Infantry. Being charged as a warrior on the battlefield he used his Quincy training to enhance his reflexes higher than his peers and pinpoint accuracy with a rifle to outdo other soldiers taking lives of the enemy while he fought in the heated climate of Afghanastan and Libya. Even though Bryce was trained to combat hollows he could easily have died if there was a weapon fired at him before he could take notice then he probably would have died. And he knew that. After his second year of fighting on the front lines he requested to be retrained by the Army in their Intelligence Division. There he was charged with plotting battle formulas of military operations. This helped him become a master in military strategy and major battle tactics. Bryce was a model soldier until one day. He explained each possibility to a General, but the commanding officer in question did not take the plan with the least casualties because an other plan could bring greater results. After Bryce offended the General then he was immediately discharged from his career in the Army.
A few months after his job with the Army Bryce received a letter from a mysterious source. Bryce knew he would spent his time partying and wasting the rest of his life if he did not keep himself busy. That notion prompted him to accept the offer and he begun to travel to the airport in question so that he may see what this stranger wants from him.
Other: Bryce has U.S. Army Tattooed vertically from his left shoulder down his back.
Edit: your rules look strange to me. |
5,655 | 155 | 12 | 2,595 | 7,070 | The pilot of the ship suddenly over a speak and he spoke with a clear masculine voice and prompted everyone on board the ship to sit down in the nearest seat and buckle themselves in as they were landing soon. It wasn't something Terry had expected to happen so soon but it seemed no one else on the jet was willing to bring up a conversation so it was a short trip. "Well then...this is....interesting..." Terry muttered as he wondered why exactly they had so few people on this plane. "I thought there would be more...I guess I was wrong." grumbled the former priest as he waited for the plane to land. As they descended Terry breathed in calmly and looked at the city that was coming into view closer and closer by the second. He never enjoyed flying, being a low income family boy he had little reason to like it. Regardless of his personal thoughts on the matter Terry grinned widely as the pilot of the jet plane called out once more, "Thank you for flying on our plane! Please proceed out of the console and follow the man in the bright blue suit. I hope you enjoyed the flight." The pilot said with a obviously fake sincere tone. Terry got up almost immediately once the plane landed safely and told the plane's attendant that he didn't bring anything with him aside from his clothes and his small travel bag. With that Terry got up and left the plane before going outside and immediately looked out onto the horizon. "I've seen pictures of this place....Isn't this Las Vegas, Nevada? Interesting..." Terry grinned widely as he chuckled deeply. "I may actually need this after all." Terry grasped at his cross and held it steady and tightly. "Oh I am looking forward to meeting whoever this is indeed!" Terry stated to himself as he looked onto the bright city lights around him. In the dark...it was almost like a city of angels....a city of angels bent on sin and vice....
As Terry looked back to the plane and noticed the kid from the plane and the girl were coming out of the plane. "Well I hope you enjoyed the ride lads we have a journey ahead of us I'd be guessin'." Terry said with a calm plainness but tried not to be overly serious. "You know where we are r-" Terry said with a grin as suddenly a long haired blonde boy with dirty clothes, the boy whom was sleeping on the plane behind the girl, threw himself out of the plane's exit entrance like some sort of acrobat (with much less finesse) and landed on the ground with a loud and very audible thump and send a small wave of air blowing around him causing Terry's coat to flap wildly, "Hey! It looks like we're finally on the ground! Yeah man!" said the rowdy young man, Terry estimated by the boy's voice that he was from the western half of Europe and that he was also younger than himself. Maybe fresh out of high school if that. "Man this city looks A-M-A-Z-I-N-G! What do you think old man!?" the boy asked Terry whom looked at the boy with indifference, "I am barely older than you by the looks of it my friend and I don't believe I met you on the plane...who are you?" Terry asked as the boy shrugged, "You didn't meet me because I was asleep. I get really bored when nothing happens and I only wake up when stuff get's exciting." the boy said with a cheerful smile at which Terry raised an eye at, "And your name?" Terry repeated as the boy gave him a big thumbs up displaying his biker gloves with pride, "I'm Lambert Dumont my big friend! I'm here to reply to that message I got personally!" Lambert was a surprisingly mild name for a person this hyper. "It seems things just got a little more livelier Lambert. It is....nice to meet your acquaintance. I'm Terry and I'm from Southern Ireland." Terry introduced himself to Lambert who gripped his hand firmly and gave him a huge huge which made Terry feel like this kid was made of god damn steel, "WELL thanks for being so kind man! I'm not used to people being so nice to me." Lambert said gleefully at which Terry idly patted his back awkwardly. | Name: Terry Adair
Nicknames: The Cross
Gender: Male
Weight: 220 lbs
Height: 6'1
Age: 24
Languages known: English, Japanese, Russian (minor knowledge)
Appearance:
Brown/black hair and green eyes
( - His lower body is a normal pair of jeans or sweat pants and under the coat is a nondescript grey shirt
!( "enter image title here")
Fullbringer Ability: Cross of Scaffold (クロス·オブ·スキャッフォルド, Kurosu obu Sukyafforudo): Using Fullbring, Terry is able to transform the Celtic Cross pendant on his necklace into a large Claymore. The blade is a long, very wide, double-edged form of a longsword. The crossguard consists of a small emerald gem at the center and two straight ornate arms ending in simplistic version of a fleur-de-lis. The sword's handle runs through its guard, continuing on through a gold hollow space at the base of its blade. The handle is almost the same length of the blade itself. This part of the handle allows Terry to attack opponents at closer ranges. By gripping the handle near the base of his broadsword's blade and swinging the Cross of Scaffold around, Though he has trouble doing so Terry can generate certain amounts of light green Reiryoku which sheathes itself over the blade. When he swings the sword at his desired target it unleashes a small wave of energy in the shape of a blade that can cut through enemies. This requires effort on his own behalf to do so since he only had basic training since he left Tokyo.
Fullbringer Item Appearance/Description: (
(
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Average Spiritual Awareness
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor: None
Personality: Terry is a man raised on catholic beliefs and doesn't normally partake in alcohol or over consumption of foods. He is a tolerant person and is very calm normally but when angered becomes a very serious person. He is not fond of large groups as he prefers being able to talk to people individually without being interrupted and groups in general make him uncomfortable. As a person he is not one to proscribe to romance of any sort but he finds the idea interesting in itself. That being said he is not one to completely obstinate from liking another person romantically. He is not a very funny individual and any jokes he makes tend to be pretty lame or lack clever thought behind them. As a combatant he is serious and directly to the point not afraid of using dirty tricks to win the day but doesn't enjoy doing so. He has a distaste for the Soul Society and says that people should be free to make their own choices in life.
Terry's Fullbringer powers leave him with a sense of magnitude and a sense of dread. He dislikes being one targeted because of them but he still, despite all the trouble that it has caused him, loves having a unique ability no matter how much he may deny it outright. He enjoys the flow of combat and views it as a form of self expression and that a way a person fights says many things about the person. He is also a person whom doesn't mind being shouted at or demeaned. Terry, due to his time as a priest in training, also is a person who is neutral towards people in general and doesn't judge them based on their past but what they are doing right now.
History:
Born in southern Ireland to a woman named Michelle Leon and a father named Brandon Adair he (Terry) is the oldest son of the two children they had. Terry's mother was attacked by a crazed individual (whom was not seen again after the attack presumably he was caught or he died somewhere) and was hurt during her pregnancy but recovered due in no small part to the help of the town's doctor. Terry's parents where unimportant in the overall scheme of things with his mother being a nurse and his father being a construction worker and had only met when their friend introduced them to each other. Terry himself was often left with his rough and unready father whom showed he had little patience for little Terry but did his best to take care of him none the less being that Terry was his son and he wasn't about to become an abusive alcoholic father. His mother also took time to be with him when she could but was often to tired to do much and often got into fights with Brandon on who would raise Terry.
Eventually Terry was handed over to his uncle who lived nearby and worked at home as a farmer and was a devout catholic. Terry was raised there the majority of the time by his aunt Rose whom loved him like the son she couldn't have. Terry was often read parts of the bible and about the history of Ireland itself by Rose who was patient and understand of people who where not catholic unlike the more stubborn uncle. When he was old enough he split his time between reading and working with his dad on small projects that he was old enough for,which were few and far between and often it was unpleasant but respectable work none the less, and working on the farm that his uncle
As he grew older he noticed that he himself was a more physically tougher boy than his friends and classmates due to in no small part to the hard farming life he lived and the work with his father. When he got into a childish fist fight he often ended up giving people bloody noses and or outright overpowering kids who were from backgrounds that weren't like his. School itself was an strange ordeal and one that he didn't specifically excel at for the most part but did well enough. He wasn't a book smart child but liked the stories and challenges that came with reading and things like science and math. While his father helped him with math his mother and aunt helped him with his other projects and studies. He grew especially close to his aunt and started to go to church with her after school and learned to be tolerant of others but also to enjoy and praise the holy bible. However the arrival of his younger brother changed his life.
Terry was often annoyed by his little brother's crying and the attention given towards him by his mother Michelle caused him to spend more and more time with his extended family. However he often was in charge of his younger brother and was there for him when his parents where not and even his first word was Terry. Terry was there for his first steps and when he hurt himself with scraped knees. It was more out of a respect for family than love for his imminent sibling that he did those things though. When Terry became a teenager he started to consider a teaching career despite pushes to become an athlete by his dad and uncle. When things got to stressful in Terry's life he was often found going to churches to talk out his problems. His local priest, Father Mance, was often kind and considerate towards the boy despite not being from around here, coming from Russia, and became a mentor figure for young Terry. His little brother tried to keep up with him but failed miserably in his attempts to do so. And gradually Terry began to slip away from his family and more towards those around him. He had few and far between girlfriends and eventually he started to burrow himself into studying languages hoping to become a language teacher with the help of his mentor Father Mance. His most treasured item during this time was a Celtic cross worn by Mance until Terry's sixteenth birthday.
Towards the end of his school years Terry and his younger brother were out for a stroll when Terry and his brother were both attacked by a strange being whom was protecting a nearby playground they were walking past where a boy had died two weeks prior. Terry and his brother were afraid of the being though Terry's own inner strength made him brave enough to take most of the bad shots for his younger brother who insisted that he save himself. Terry was only aware of this being due to the fact that he had a strange sixth sense of sorts that allowed him to interact and see beings that passed on and his younger brother only had a basic awareness of it seeing the horrifying creature that was attacking them as a blurred vision compared to Terry whom saw the being in it's whole. Their father saw them being attacked and rushed to their aid despite not knowing what as happening and not being spiritually aware and only hurt himself in the process. Terry and his brother were almost certainly going to die until Father Mance steeped into the fight with a big brown war hammer. Father Mance displayed abilities that no one could have predicted and quickly dispatched the monster with ruthless ease which frightened young Terry. Much to Father Mance's annoyance before he could finish the monster off he was interrupted by a man in a black and white robes and was the lieutenant of a squad of some sort. The man made the monster vanish and then turned on Mance saying that he should have not gotten involved in which Mance retorted he didn't intend to let shinigami come late and cost boys their lives.
The man ignored that statement and went to erase the memory of Terry and the others despite his brother's arguments. Mance intervened on behalf of his student Terry saying the boy involuntarily used something called Fullbringer powers during the fight which Terry was confused about and told him that he didn't want his memories removed and that was a statement his younger brother agreed with. The Lieutenant gave Mance a deal after a firm argument from both parties and wiped out his brother's memories of this while keeping Terry. While his brother and father were sent to the hospital Mance and Terry both went back to the local chapel and Mance personally took care of Terry saying from this point forth that Terry's life would never be the same. Terry said he knew it wouldn't be but that's what he asked for.
Terry and Mance became in tangled in training in the outbacks of southern Ireland and occasionally France where they trained in the mountains. Mance told him about the basics of what was happening such as Hollows and Soul Reapers and told Terry he was like himself, a being known as a Fullbringer and that his mother had been attacked by a Hollow before his birth and some of that being's energy resided in him. Terry was a slow learner but he improved and eventually grew to have a certain strength in his Fullbringer power being able to conjure up a Claymore from his Celtic Cross. After this Terry and Mance left Ireland and France behind and left for Japan. Terry at this point had learned some Russian and Japanese due to Mance's recommendation due to Japan being where things normally hit the fan. Terry spent time as a priest in training there but gave that up once he had trouble coping with the trouble that came with knowing of the existence of the Soul Society. However he still followed the beliefs installed in him by his aunt and uncle. His brother often tried to contact Terry to little success normally. Terry would eventually gain a firm understanding of Japan after some year or so being there. Mance let Terry live his own life and was sent to a school where Mance's friend was a principal and gave him a spot for tutoring English for students.
Terry grew comfortable with his life up until his twenty first birthday where he came home from a party with his newer friend and companions only to find the church that Father Mance lived in was under attack. Terry was unable to find Mance until it was to late. Mance had been left lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood and his last words to Terry were that he was proud of the man the boy had become and that this wasn't his fault. Making his own path was far more important than the life of an aging priest. Mance pasted from this world as the same Shinigami came and brought him to the new world Terry took his money and quit his tutoring job after a week later and left for his home in Ireland. In his time in Tokyo he had only encountered a dozen hollows and only three of which he defeated himself. Terry's life would live the rest of his days there he decided before one day a strange ornate letter was given to him and a man requested his appearance and it was signed anonymously but the details inside of it proclaimed frightening knowledge of Terry's Fullbringer status. He was determined to find out who it was who sent this letter to him. |
5,656 | 155 | 13 | 1,370 | 1,861 | Alexis continues to sort of glare at the man as he caught his coin, before walking off saying very little and leaving her again and Alexis sat back now in somewhat of a grumpy mood, if he really wanted to speak he could have just tapped her shoulder which would have given her time to pause her game.
Returning to ignoring everyone on the plane she went to gaze out of the window, and noticed that they were currently flying over an unfamiliar land that was soon followed by a city, almost immediately after that the pilot spoke up asking everyone to sit down and buckle up, when he finished speaking Alexis turned her attention from the roof of the plane to her seat and strapped herself in.
"I hate this part" She mumbled quietly to herself as she gripped the arm rests, she wasn't really afraid of flights she just was never to fond of them and wasn't good with the taking off and landing part of plane flights, however so not to draw attention she just kept her mouth shut and closed her eyes.
When at last they had landed Alexis took a moment to make sure she had all her stuff with her, and waited for the two men to get off before her, she forgot for a moment about the one sleeping behind her as she didn't expect him to wake up.
Slowly she stretched her stiff legs and shuffled out of her seat before headed down the isle to leave he plane, however as she made to leave that big blond man came barging past and leaped from the plane like some sort of dirty ape, almost knocking her over since she wasn't expecting him to be so sudden and quick right after he had woken up.
straightening her clothing and grumbling something under her breath Alexis left the plane after the man, taking a moment to look around before turning her attention to the others, placing a hand to the Quincy cross that hung around her neck as she figured that from here things were going to get rather interesting. Not wanting to be left behind Alexis quickly left the plane and headed to where the three boys were talking, the ape man talking very loud, she wasn't going to like him. | Name: Alexis Falk
Gender: Female
Weight: 55kg
Height: 5,4
Age: 21
Languages known: English and minor Japanese
Appearance:
She wears what is in the image, along with baggy black pants and combat boots that she never ties up properly. In the cold she has a thick, dark tan jacket.
Quincy Uniform
When in her Quincy uniform, Alexis wears a simple white tank top and simple white shorts, with white knee high boots that have a small heal and come to a slight point at the toe, the shoes have blue laces and a blue line over all the seams of the shoes.
Over all of this Alexis has a sleeveless coat, at the front it only reaches only to her stomach, as it reaches the side of her body it starts becoming long enough to reach the back of her heal, this again is white and is lined around the hems and seams in blue, with the Quincy insignia stretching over the upper back. Under this coat she keeps a small white pouch in which she can store her items.
Quincy abilities:
Like all Quincy, Alexis is able to use Hirenkyaku, An advanced Quincy moving technique that allows for high-speed movements by riding on the flow of Reishi created below the user's feet.
And the Blut, A Quincy ability that gives a practitioner inhuman defensive and offensive capability. By making Reishi flow into their blood vessels, Quincy increase their attack and defense power drastically. Though Blut is significantly dangerous, it has one big flaw; the two forms of Blut for attack and defense work using two different Reishi systems, so they cannot be used at the same time. Echt Quincy inherits it from birth while Gemischt Quincy must train to attain it.
Alexis of course is also extremely good at archery and practices it often as a hobby in her spare and to keep her skills from diminishing, Her Quincy bow is called forth from her necklace at will,
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Average Spiritual Awareness
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor:
Alexis possesses a couple of Gintō, A capsule-shaped tool used by Quincy to store their Reiryoku. It is an antiquated tool, but the use of it allows Quincy to perform certain techniques. She keeps these in a small white pouch that is hidden under her Quincy uniform coat, and her Quincy Cross Is a necklace on a silver chain, one that she is never seen without.
Personality:
Unlike most other Quincy who are trained posh and formal with some kind of intelligence and efficiency in battle, Alexis is rather the opposite as she can be rash in her choice of attacks, with an attitude problem and a habit for not listening when she is suppose too. Maybe even a little quick tempered at the worst of times.
Despite all this though Alexis is loyal and trusting to her friends, not that she has many friends to begin with. But like most Quincy she still has that loathing towards Soul Reapers, and will act rather unkindly towards them even though she will act unkindly towards any stranger who approaches her.
She is a bit of a rebel as well when it comes to not paying attention or choosing to ignore the rules. playing by her own set of rules rather than those she had been taught as a Quincy, Alexis has never been good at playing with others either and would rather battle alone than be aided by another, not that she wouldn't appreciate the help if someone did come along but she wouldn't openly show this.
Alexis likes to smoke all the time, though she is obviously suffering from it with coughing fits that hit her at random times and shortage of breath of course, something she however pretends isn't as bad as it really is, and if offered will willingly and happily participate in drinks through this is something she can easily lose control over, the tattoos on her right arm are a result of one such time, she doesn't like to talk about this particular event.
History:
Alexis was never born or raised in Japan, and in fact never set foot in Karakura town until she was at least 19 years of age, having moved here on her own to get away from her family whim all reside in some other part of the world. In the Australian and New Zealand area of the world to be exact. Alexis was raised by her mother on a small far, a quiet place where she could carry out her Quincy training without hindrance from Society, and living not to far from her and her mother were her relatives, her uncle and aunt.
Though even though she lived away from Society it did not mean that she was safe from Hollows or never meet a soul reaper, Being told at a very young age that they were her enemies.
Alexis never liked this life and would have often sneak out to town where she hung out with friends, getting in to trouble with the police and with her family on numerous occasions, though she didn't care she preferred the rush of trouble over her Quincy training and her life that was chosen for her, only ever learning what she needed to know, and no more than that so that she wasn't seen as a threat and left alone.
When Alexis turned 19 she find the opportunity to leave her home and her family behind, forgetting about them and wishing to start fresh a new life, where she could do what she wanted when she wanted. However was unaware that the town she had planned to move to was renown for it's spiritual activity, and what she tried to escape from would become something she would have to rely on, more often than she would like.
Living alone in an old apartment Alexis goes to a school to learn Japanese, even though language isn't something she was ever good at learning, and has a small part time job, aside from hollow hunting and Soul reaper taunting. And even though she has next to no friends in this new town, the Quincy is enjoying her new home and her new life away from strict rules and constant training, Living life how she sees fit just how she wanted, for now at least. |
5,657 | 155 | 14 | 926 | 775 | As the plane landed Bryce just went with the flow. He buckled his seat belt when he was told to. He left the plane when he was told to. That was when he asked the ground control people about his bag stored in the cargo room. The man he had asked motioned him to follow as Bryce invited himself in the room with the traffic control employee. The man gave Bryce a dirty look but Bryce could not care less. He thanked the employee and made his way back to the group. It appeared as if Terry Adair was conversing with the sleeping guy. Bryce was gone for the details of their conversation but it seemed as if they were hugging. Well they could both be friendly people or perhaps they were old friends. That thought made Bryce think about this being a trap. He would be screwed if all three of them had spiritual powers and wanted to fight him this moment. Either way it made a bit more sense to wait and see how this plays out.
Bryce took a small look around and it appeared that they were relatively close to a city. This made Bryce feel a bit better since it was not ideal to jump someone by flying him to an urban area like this one. He took a moment to look around and he noticed the woman who had the ear phones. She seemed to be gripping a type of necklace. Bryce couldn't see it but it seemed like it was important. Who knows they might have been chosen as a group because they all wore necklaces. Bryce turned his attention back to the group. "So what now?" He asked out loud. | Name: Bryce Lee
Nicknames: Shooting Dragon
Gender: Male
Weight: 175lbs.
Height: 6'0
Age: 22
Languages known: English, Some Japanese
Appearance:
Quincy Ability:
Basic Reishi Manipulation: At a young age Bryce was taught how to manipulate reishi in his surrounding in order to form a spirit bow. His mastery over this technique isn't perfect because he abandoned his formal training before it was complete, but he can use it to take down an average hollow.
Spirit Bow: Bryce's training as a Quincy has taught him to generate a bow by collecting reishi and combining it with his which he calls his Doragon (ドラゴン literally means: Dragon)
Quincy Cross Appearance/Description:
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Slightly Below Average
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor: None for now.
Personality:
Bryce comes off as a rather serious person but can be funny once he opens up his shell to you. He was not raised knowing many living people as a child so he tends to only socialize with the dead until he knows he can trust you. Once you do earn his trust he tends to make witty and sarcastic remarks at you. When talking to females he does end up being a bit more flirty and he acts more confrontational when speaking to men. With his training by his mother and the military he tends to try and think of three or more answers before he takes the time to respond making him the last to act in any situation.
In battle Bryce immediately takes the time for his first thought to analyze and assess the situation he places himself in. His training in the army has him look at shooting vantage points and locations that can stop a ranged attack opposed to a spot that would leave him wide open to a volley of bullet. Like wise in his hollow hunting he tends to fire his Spirit Bow from a concealed location if he can't find definite cover. Like all other situation in battle Bryce usually is last to move but this is because he spends most of his time in battle thinking of the best possible way to finish a battle in as few shots as possible. However, if he cannot finish a battle quick he will do what he can to stay on his toes until he can get a clear shot in.
History:
Once upon a time there was a hollow known as Young Blood. This hollow was not especially powerful but it was smart and managed to outrun the Soul Society for about a hundred years. That was until he was slaughtered by a blast of concentrated reishi fired by a Quincy. This Quincy was a half-Chinese and half-Japanese girl named Sora Lee. Sora moved from Hong Kong to Karakura town when she was little with her parents because they were being hunted by an exorcist. Sora eventually met a man named Kiba who she slowly fell in love with due to his charm and wit. The problem with being with Kiba was that he came from a family who was not spiritually aware so she kept her powers and family a secret from her lover for a majority of their relationship. It wasn't until after Sora was pregnant that she revealed the existence of the Soul Society and hollows to Kiba. Sadly Kiba was killed by the dreaded hollow Young Blood in front of Sora. This enraged the ferocious Quincy and she destroyed the vile creature while gaining infamy among the Seireitei.
Sora soon felt that she could not live her life in Karakura town. Thus she packed up and relocated to the United States for her child to be born in a nation where he may someday prosper. After three months of living in this nation in a quiet town her son , whom she named Bryce, was born to her. The Shinigami took notice that Sora had relocated to the outskirts of Maine so they relaxed their patrols in her neighborhood not wanting to help extend another line of Quincies. Soon Sora noticed that she was the only protector against hollow attacks. This firmly prompted her to start training Bryce at the age of four in the art of the Quincy.
Bryce Lee accompanied his mother on her hollow hunts until he turned thirteen. Then his mother planned on testing him to see if he could handle hollows on his own and he succeeded to possess the basic mastery over all abilities necessary to take down a hollow. This changed when Bryce turned seventeen because he never enjoyed hunting these hollows and he hated that he was born into a family where he was charged with slaughtering these demons. Although he was selfish and was not willing to let people suffer. He left his mothers house after he graduated high school early to join the United States Army. There he took a job in the Intelligence Department.
Bryce spent the first two years in the Army working Infantry. Being charged as a warrior on the battlefield he used his Quincy training to enhance his reflexes higher than his peers and pinpoint accuracy with a rifle to outdo other soldiers taking lives of the enemy while he fought in the heated climate of Afghanastan and Libya. Even though Bryce was trained to combat hollows he could easily have died if there was a weapon fired at him before he could take notice then he probably would have died. And he knew that. After his second year of fighting on the front lines he requested to be retrained by the Army in their Intelligence Division. There he was charged with plotting battle formulas of military operations. This helped him become a master in military strategy and major battle tactics. Bryce was a model soldier until one day. He explained each possibility to a General, but the commanding officer in question did not take the plan with the least casualties because an other plan could bring greater results. After Bryce offended the General then he was immediately discharged from his career in the Army.
A few months after his job with the Army Bryce received a letter from a mysterious source. Bryce knew he would spent his time partying and wasting the rest of his life if he did not keep himself busy. That notion prompted him to accept the offer and he begun to travel to the airport in question so that he may see what this stranger wants from him.
Other: Bryce has U.S. Army Tattooed vertically from his left shoulder down his back.
Edit: your rules look strange to me. |
5,658 | 155 | 15 | 2,595 | 7,070 | Terry managed pry himself from from Lambert's grip after a couple of seconds, "I guess we wait Mr. Bryce" Terry commented plainly as he looked at his fellow passanger. He wasn't one to comment sarcastically but you'd figure the boy would know if he just could wait for a couple of seconds he'd likely find out what was going on. "We're not in any position to really demand to know what's going on just yet. We're in Las Vegas boy. I'm not sure if you've been here before but this city is full of sin and liars." Terry said indifferently as he reached out his hand and made a gesture as if to grasp the city in his hand. "Yo new new dude! Come on this place is awesome! I've never been to Vegas before!" commented Lambert as he hopped around and threw a few very fast mock punches at nothing seemingly hyped over something or another. Terry simply let him do what he was doing as Dumont seemed like the guy who would get worked up over a simple comment.
Things became more interesting as suddenly a tall elderly man in a black suit with a red tie and thinned grey hair over his spotted bald head waltzed over and bowed to them all, "Hello young mistress and masters. I'm called Albert Wester Jr. and I'm going to be your driver for tonight and maybe for a good period of time. I'm sorry for not coming sooner but I was only just informed moments ago of something coming up with the previous driver. If you would follow me quickly we should be getting to our destination as quickly as possible. The young master doesn't like tardy guests. Don't worry any objects you have will be delivered to you on arrival to the master's palace" Albert commented politely as he gave a bow to all of them. Terry greeted Albert with a Chinese sign of respect by putting his hands together and bowing with his upper body and thanked him for his efforts, "Oh no need to do that it's what I'm paid to-" Albert said as Lambert suddenly broke in, "Yo yo man let's get GOIN'! Where are we goin' anyway? Come on dog spill the beans dude!" Lambert asked as Albert calmly pushed up his glasses, "Well 'dog' I am nothing more than a servant, and we will be going to Golden Arch Casino and Hotel. It is where our master normally meets with people he is usually interested in." commented the man with a simple grin, "Ah so it's a male we're dealing with now eh? Not that it makes much different but it is nice to know that small bit of info." commented Terry. He was more worried if this old man was lying to them...but it seemed that he was telling the truth, Terry quickly followed the man whom confirmed that the boss was a male indeed and that he had a limo waiting for them all.
However he pulled the boy named Bryce over to him real quick before he got in the car, "If things go wrong I'm going to intervene personally. I sense that you hold some powerful spirit energy in you friend. I would appreciate it if you helped me. But don't get the wrong idea I'm not expecting trouble because the man who expects trouble finds it but the man who is always prepared for it but doesn't want it is a cautious one." Terry said quickly before backing away from the boy and getting into the top most half of the limo. Meanwhile Lambert stuck to Alexis, "So chick, babe, lady, my girl are you pumped up for this! I am freaking STOKED woooh baby Vegas never thought I'd be here in my life time! WOOWIE!" He said ecstatically patting the girl heavily on her back. | Name: Terry Adair
Nicknames: The Cross
Gender: Male
Weight: 220 lbs
Height: 6'1
Age: 24
Languages known: English, Japanese, Russian (minor knowledge)
Appearance:
Brown/black hair and green eyes
( - His lower body is a normal pair of jeans or sweat pants and under the coat is a nondescript grey shirt
!( "enter image title here")
Fullbringer Ability: Cross of Scaffold (クロス·オブ·スキャッフォルド, Kurosu obu Sukyafforudo): Using Fullbring, Terry is able to transform the Celtic Cross pendant on his necklace into a large Claymore. The blade is a long, very wide, double-edged form of a longsword. The crossguard consists of a small emerald gem at the center and two straight ornate arms ending in simplistic version of a fleur-de-lis. The sword's handle runs through its guard, continuing on through a gold hollow space at the base of its blade. The handle is almost the same length of the blade itself. This part of the handle allows Terry to attack opponents at closer ranges. By gripping the handle near the base of his broadsword's blade and swinging the Cross of Scaffold around, Though he has trouble doing so Terry can generate certain amounts of light green Reiryoku which sheathes itself over the blade. When he swings the sword at his desired target it unleashes a small wave of energy in the shape of a blade that can cut through enemies. This requires effort on his own behalf to do so since he only had basic training since he left Tokyo.
Fullbringer Item Appearance/Description: (
(
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Average Spiritual Awareness
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor: None
Personality: Terry is a man raised on catholic beliefs and doesn't normally partake in alcohol or over consumption of foods. He is a tolerant person and is very calm normally but when angered becomes a very serious person. He is not fond of large groups as he prefers being able to talk to people individually without being interrupted and groups in general make him uncomfortable. As a person he is not one to proscribe to romance of any sort but he finds the idea interesting in itself. That being said he is not one to completely obstinate from liking another person romantically. He is not a very funny individual and any jokes he makes tend to be pretty lame or lack clever thought behind them. As a combatant he is serious and directly to the point not afraid of using dirty tricks to win the day but doesn't enjoy doing so. He has a distaste for the Soul Society and says that people should be free to make their own choices in life.
Terry's Fullbringer powers leave him with a sense of magnitude and a sense of dread. He dislikes being one targeted because of them but he still, despite all the trouble that it has caused him, loves having a unique ability no matter how much he may deny it outright. He enjoys the flow of combat and views it as a form of self expression and that a way a person fights says many things about the person. He is also a person whom doesn't mind being shouted at or demeaned. Terry, due to his time as a priest in training, also is a person who is neutral towards people in general and doesn't judge them based on their past but what they are doing right now.
History:
Born in southern Ireland to a woman named Michelle Leon and a father named Brandon Adair he (Terry) is the oldest son of the two children they had. Terry's mother was attacked by a crazed individual (whom was not seen again after the attack presumably he was caught or he died somewhere) and was hurt during her pregnancy but recovered due in no small part to the help of the town's doctor. Terry's parents where unimportant in the overall scheme of things with his mother being a nurse and his father being a construction worker and had only met when their friend introduced them to each other. Terry himself was often left with his rough and unready father whom showed he had little patience for little Terry but did his best to take care of him none the less being that Terry was his son and he wasn't about to become an abusive alcoholic father. His mother also took time to be with him when she could but was often to tired to do much and often got into fights with Brandon on who would raise Terry.
Eventually Terry was handed over to his uncle who lived nearby and worked at home as a farmer and was a devout catholic. Terry was raised there the majority of the time by his aunt Rose whom loved him like the son she couldn't have. Terry was often read parts of the bible and about the history of Ireland itself by Rose who was patient and understand of people who where not catholic unlike the more stubborn uncle. When he was old enough he split his time between reading and working with his dad on small projects that he was old enough for,which were few and far between and often it was unpleasant but respectable work none the less, and working on the farm that his uncle
As he grew older he noticed that he himself was a more physically tougher boy than his friends and classmates due to in no small part to the hard farming life he lived and the work with his father. When he got into a childish fist fight he often ended up giving people bloody noses and or outright overpowering kids who were from backgrounds that weren't like his. School itself was an strange ordeal and one that he didn't specifically excel at for the most part but did well enough. He wasn't a book smart child but liked the stories and challenges that came with reading and things like science and math. While his father helped him with math his mother and aunt helped him with his other projects and studies. He grew especially close to his aunt and started to go to church with her after school and learned to be tolerant of others but also to enjoy and praise the holy bible. However the arrival of his younger brother changed his life.
Terry was often annoyed by his little brother's crying and the attention given towards him by his mother Michelle caused him to spend more and more time with his extended family. However he often was in charge of his younger brother and was there for him when his parents where not and even his first word was Terry. Terry was there for his first steps and when he hurt himself with scraped knees. It was more out of a respect for family than love for his imminent sibling that he did those things though. When Terry became a teenager he started to consider a teaching career despite pushes to become an athlete by his dad and uncle. When things got to stressful in Terry's life he was often found going to churches to talk out his problems. His local priest, Father Mance, was often kind and considerate towards the boy despite not being from around here, coming from Russia, and became a mentor figure for young Terry. His little brother tried to keep up with him but failed miserably in his attempts to do so. And gradually Terry began to slip away from his family and more towards those around him. He had few and far between girlfriends and eventually he started to burrow himself into studying languages hoping to become a language teacher with the help of his mentor Father Mance. His most treasured item during this time was a Celtic cross worn by Mance until Terry's sixteenth birthday.
Towards the end of his school years Terry and his younger brother were out for a stroll when Terry and his brother were both attacked by a strange being whom was protecting a nearby playground they were walking past where a boy had died two weeks prior. Terry and his brother were afraid of the being though Terry's own inner strength made him brave enough to take most of the bad shots for his younger brother who insisted that he save himself. Terry was only aware of this being due to the fact that he had a strange sixth sense of sorts that allowed him to interact and see beings that passed on and his younger brother only had a basic awareness of it seeing the horrifying creature that was attacking them as a blurred vision compared to Terry whom saw the being in it's whole. Their father saw them being attacked and rushed to their aid despite not knowing what as happening and not being spiritually aware and only hurt himself in the process. Terry and his brother were almost certainly going to die until Father Mance steeped into the fight with a big brown war hammer. Father Mance displayed abilities that no one could have predicted and quickly dispatched the monster with ruthless ease which frightened young Terry. Much to Father Mance's annoyance before he could finish the monster off he was interrupted by a man in a black and white robes and was the lieutenant of a squad of some sort. The man made the monster vanish and then turned on Mance saying that he should have not gotten involved in which Mance retorted he didn't intend to let shinigami come late and cost boys their lives.
The man ignored that statement and went to erase the memory of Terry and the others despite his brother's arguments. Mance intervened on behalf of his student Terry saying the boy involuntarily used something called Fullbringer powers during the fight which Terry was confused about and told him that he didn't want his memories removed and that was a statement his younger brother agreed with. The Lieutenant gave Mance a deal after a firm argument from both parties and wiped out his brother's memories of this while keeping Terry. While his brother and father were sent to the hospital Mance and Terry both went back to the local chapel and Mance personally took care of Terry saying from this point forth that Terry's life would never be the same. Terry said he knew it wouldn't be but that's what he asked for.
Terry and Mance became in tangled in training in the outbacks of southern Ireland and occasionally France where they trained in the mountains. Mance told him about the basics of what was happening such as Hollows and Soul Reapers and told Terry he was like himself, a being known as a Fullbringer and that his mother had been attacked by a Hollow before his birth and some of that being's energy resided in him. Terry was a slow learner but he improved and eventually grew to have a certain strength in his Fullbringer power being able to conjure up a Claymore from his Celtic Cross. After this Terry and Mance left Ireland and France behind and left for Japan. Terry at this point had learned some Russian and Japanese due to Mance's recommendation due to Japan being where things normally hit the fan. Terry spent time as a priest in training there but gave that up once he had trouble coping with the trouble that came with knowing of the existence of the Soul Society. However he still followed the beliefs installed in him by his aunt and uncle. His brother often tried to contact Terry to little success normally. Terry would eventually gain a firm understanding of Japan after some year or so being there. Mance let Terry live his own life and was sent to a school where Mance's friend was a principal and gave him a spot for tutoring English for students.
Terry grew comfortable with his life up until his twenty first birthday where he came home from a party with his newer friend and companions only to find the church that Father Mance lived in was under attack. Terry was unable to find Mance until it was to late. Mance had been left lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood and his last words to Terry were that he was proud of the man the boy had become and that this wasn't his fault. Making his own path was far more important than the life of an aging priest. Mance pasted from this world as the same Shinigami came and brought him to the new world Terry took his money and quit his tutoring job after a week later and left for his home in Ireland. In his time in Tokyo he had only encountered a dozen hollows and only three of which he defeated himself. Terry's life would live the rest of his days there he decided before one day a strange ornate letter was given to him and a man requested his appearance and it was signed anonymously but the details inside of it proclaimed frightening knowledge of Terry's Fullbringer status. He was determined to find out who it was who sent this letter to him. |
5,659 | 155 | 16 | 1,370 | 1,861 | Alexis had her back turned to the small group as the tall an came along, figuring that he was their escort and or driver she tilted her head, looking at him side on to show that she was at the least listening to him as he stared to introduce himself as their driver. Alexis wasn't entirely worried about her objects as the only thing she had on her was her bag, and there was no way she would let it be taken out of her sight, however as the others were still questioning the old man, she was already walking a head to where the old man came from clearly not interested in all their chatting.
"Lets just get a move on, I can't be bothered waiting" She said though doubted that anyone would hear her over the noise that the smelly one was making, though she did stop to look back when the old man started to lead them to the limo, letting him pass and then following him the rest of the way.
Climbing into the Limo Alexis sat herself by the window, though noticing that Lambert decided to stick with her during the ride, she couldn't help but hang her head for a moment before trying to ignore him. This was near impossible however as his large hand was suddenly patting her on the back, causing her to hunch her shoulders and almost slip from her seat.
"My name if you must know, is Alexis and I prefer if you call me that, none of these tacky nicknames" She told him sounding a bit grumpy "And yes, very good for you, we are all glad that you find such joy in being here" Alexis said in a sarcastic tone as she rolled her eyes "But must you be so loud about it?" | Name: Alexis Falk
Gender: Female
Weight: 55kg
Height: 5,4
Age: 21
Languages known: English and minor Japanese
Appearance:
She wears what is in the image, along with baggy black pants and combat boots that she never ties up properly. In the cold she has a thick, dark tan jacket.
Quincy Uniform
When in her Quincy uniform, Alexis wears a simple white tank top and simple white shorts, with white knee high boots that have a small heal and come to a slight point at the toe, the shoes have blue laces and a blue line over all the seams of the shoes.
Over all of this Alexis has a sleeveless coat, at the front it only reaches only to her stomach, as it reaches the side of her body it starts becoming long enough to reach the back of her heal, this again is white and is lined around the hems and seams in blue, with the Quincy insignia stretching over the upper back. Under this coat she keeps a small white pouch in which she can store her items.
Quincy abilities:
Like all Quincy, Alexis is able to use Hirenkyaku, An advanced Quincy moving technique that allows for high-speed movements by riding on the flow of Reishi created below the user's feet.
And the Blut, A Quincy ability that gives a practitioner inhuman defensive and offensive capability. By making Reishi flow into their blood vessels, Quincy increase their attack and defense power drastically. Though Blut is significantly dangerous, it has one big flaw; the two forms of Blut for attack and defense work using two different Reishi systems, so they cannot be used at the same time. Echt Quincy inherits it from birth while Gemischt Quincy must train to attain it.
Alexis of course is also extremely good at archery and practices it often as a hobby in her spare and to keep her skills from diminishing, Her Quincy bow is called forth from her necklace at will,
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Average Spiritual Awareness
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor:
Alexis possesses a couple of Gintō, A capsule-shaped tool used by Quincy to store their Reiryoku. It is an antiquated tool, but the use of it allows Quincy to perform certain techniques. She keeps these in a small white pouch that is hidden under her Quincy uniform coat, and her Quincy Cross Is a necklace on a silver chain, one that she is never seen without.
Personality:
Unlike most other Quincy who are trained posh and formal with some kind of intelligence and efficiency in battle, Alexis is rather the opposite as she can be rash in her choice of attacks, with an attitude problem and a habit for not listening when she is suppose too. Maybe even a little quick tempered at the worst of times.
Despite all this though Alexis is loyal and trusting to her friends, not that she has many friends to begin with. But like most Quincy she still has that loathing towards Soul Reapers, and will act rather unkindly towards them even though she will act unkindly towards any stranger who approaches her.
She is a bit of a rebel as well when it comes to not paying attention or choosing to ignore the rules. playing by her own set of rules rather than those she had been taught as a Quincy, Alexis has never been good at playing with others either and would rather battle alone than be aided by another, not that she wouldn't appreciate the help if someone did come along but she wouldn't openly show this.
Alexis likes to smoke all the time, though she is obviously suffering from it with coughing fits that hit her at random times and shortage of breath of course, something she however pretends isn't as bad as it really is, and if offered will willingly and happily participate in drinks through this is something she can easily lose control over, the tattoos on her right arm are a result of one such time, she doesn't like to talk about this particular event.
History:
Alexis was never born or raised in Japan, and in fact never set foot in Karakura town until she was at least 19 years of age, having moved here on her own to get away from her family whim all reside in some other part of the world. In the Australian and New Zealand area of the world to be exact. Alexis was raised by her mother on a small far, a quiet place where she could carry out her Quincy training without hindrance from Society, and living not to far from her and her mother were her relatives, her uncle and aunt.
Though even though she lived away from Society it did not mean that she was safe from Hollows or never meet a soul reaper, Being told at a very young age that they were her enemies.
Alexis never liked this life and would have often sneak out to town where she hung out with friends, getting in to trouble with the police and with her family on numerous occasions, though she didn't care she preferred the rush of trouble over her Quincy training and her life that was chosen for her, only ever learning what she needed to know, and no more than that so that she wasn't seen as a threat and left alone.
When Alexis turned 19 she find the opportunity to leave her home and her family behind, forgetting about them and wishing to start fresh a new life, where she could do what she wanted when she wanted. However was unaware that the town she had planned to move to was renown for it's spiritual activity, and what she tried to escape from would become something she would have to rely on, more often than she would like.
Living alone in an old apartment Alexis goes to a school to learn Japanese, even though language isn't something she was ever good at learning, and has a small part time job, aside from hollow hunting and Soul reaper taunting. And even though she has next to no friends in this new town, the Quincy is enjoying her new home and her new life away from strict rules and constant training, Living life how she sees fit just how she wanted, for now at least. |
5,660 | 155 | 17 | 926 | 775 | Bryce was not exactly asking anyone in particular as much as he was asking fate when things would hurry up. Bryce was usually a patient man but the impatience of this specific situation and atmosphere was making him a bit jittery. That and he could use a bit of sleep at this particular moment. That kind of thinking was going to get the young Quincy killed if this was indeed some kind of trap. The man who's name he had not caught seemed to be shadow boxing on thin air. He could already tell that this guy was someone who could get his nerves easily but maybe a balance to a group was always good. He thought that because even though he was tense he could acknowledge that the group did lea towards the tenser type and Terry Adair was relaxed but not enough to balance out the mood of the group. Bryce was almost glad that we had the noisy guy here because it did break the tension a a lot easier.
Soon after that a butler arrived and gave them an answer to the inquiry Bryce had previously made. The Golden Arch Casino. Since this was not a private residence that much mean that this had the money to entertain this small group. It also had a hint of secrecy because he was not introducing this group to his or her own household. It did feel like it would be more difficult to drive them into a trap if they were going to be in a public place. Then again that statement only held true if their host did not ow the Golden Arch Casino. If that came into play then they should expect to be dead as soon as they walk in the door. Such negativity was not going to help if they were going to be given legitimate offer. Bryce decided to go along with it.
As he was getting into the vehicle Terry expressed that they needed to be prepared. Bryce nodded his ahead in approval. It was comforting that someone else was thinking similar to what he felt. Then again this extra cautious feeling could be from the vibe he got from speaking with Terry on the plane. Either way it was there and he had to accept that it did. In any case if this become a battlefield then him an Terry would form a small team right off the bat. Then that would leave the woman with the noisy drama king over there. Then they either form a whole group or two separate ones. A basic battle plan did help but since he didn't know what kind of attacks the others could do it did not help him at all the predict n outcome. Especially against an enemy that may or may not even exist.
This extra thinking was not helping Bryce's mind state at all. He needed something to keep his mid off of the upcoming danger. it was probably because he was doing too much extra thinking right now. Since he just heard the woman's name as Alexis why not gather some intelligence. "Hey Alexis, where are you from and what is that pendant you keep gripping?" | Name: Bryce Lee
Nicknames: Shooting Dragon
Gender: Male
Weight: 175lbs.
Height: 6'0
Age: 22
Languages known: English, Some Japanese
Appearance:
Quincy Ability:
Basic Reishi Manipulation: At a young age Bryce was taught how to manipulate reishi in his surrounding in order to form a spirit bow. His mastery over this technique isn't perfect because he abandoned his formal training before it was complete, but he can use it to take down an average hollow.
Spirit Bow: Bryce's training as a Quincy has taught him to generate a bow by collecting reishi and combining it with his which he calls his Doragon (ドラゴン literally means: Dragon)
Quincy Cross Appearance/Description:
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Slightly Below Average
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor: None for now.
Personality:
Bryce comes off as a rather serious person but can be funny once he opens up his shell to you. He was not raised knowing many living people as a child so he tends to only socialize with the dead until he knows he can trust you. Once you do earn his trust he tends to make witty and sarcastic remarks at you. When talking to females he does end up being a bit more flirty and he acts more confrontational when speaking to men. With his training by his mother and the military he tends to try and think of three or more answers before he takes the time to respond making him the last to act in any situation.
In battle Bryce immediately takes the time for his first thought to analyze and assess the situation he places himself in. His training in the army has him look at shooting vantage points and locations that can stop a ranged attack opposed to a spot that would leave him wide open to a volley of bullet. Like wise in his hollow hunting he tends to fire his Spirit Bow from a concealed location if he can't find definite cover. Like all other situation in battle Bryce usually is last to move but this is because he spends most of his time in battle thinking of the best possible way to finish a battle in as few shots as possible. However, if he cannot finish a battle quick he will do what he can to stay on his toes until he can get a clear shot in.
History:
Once upon a time there was a hollow known as Young Blood. This hollow was not especially powerful but it was smart and managed to outrun the Soul Society for about a hundred years. That was until he was slaughtered by a blast of concentrated reishi fired by a Quincy. This Quincy was a half-Chinese and half-Japanese girl named Sora Lee. Sora moved from Hong Kong to Karakura town when she was little with her parents because they were being hunted by an exorcist. Sora eventually met a man named Kiba who she slowly fell in love with due to his charm and wit. The problem with being with Kiba was that he came from a family who was not spiritually aware so she kept her powers and family a secret from her lover for a majority of their relationship. It wasn't until after Sora was pregnant that she revealed the existence of the Soul Society and hollows to Kiba. Sadly Kiba was killed by the dreaded hollow Young Blood in front of Sora. This enraged the ferocious Quincy and she destroyed the vile creature while gaining infamy among the Seireitei.
Sora soon felt that she could not live her life in Karakura town. Thus she packed up and relocated to the United States for her child to be born in a nation where he may someday prosper. After three months of living in this nation in a quiet town her son , whom she named Bryce, was born to her. The Shinigami took notice that Sora had relocated to the outskirts of Maine so they relaxed their patrols in her neighborhood not wanting to help extend another line of Quincies. Soon Sora noticed that she was the only protector against hollow attacks. This firmly prompted her to start training Bryce at the age of four in the art of the Quincy.
Bryce Lee accompanied his mother on her hollow hunts until he turned thirteen. Then his mother planned on testing him to see if he could handle hollows on his own and he succeeded to possess the basic mastery over all abilities necessary to take down a hollow. This changed when Bryce turned seventeen because he never enjoyed hunting these hollows and he hated that he was born into a family where he was charged with slaughtering these demons. Although he was selfish and was not willing to let people suffer. He left his mothers house after he graduated high school early to join the United States Army. There he took a job in the Intelligence Department.
Bryce spent the first two years in the Army working Infantry. Being charged as a warrior on the battlefield he used his Quincy training to enhance his reflexes higher than his peers and pinpoint accuracy with a rifle to outdo other soldiers taking lives of the enemy while he fought in the heated climate of Afghanastan and Libya. Even though Bryce was trained to combat hollows he could easily have died if there was a weapon fired at him before he could take notice then he probably would have died. And he knew that. After his second year of fighting on the front lines he requested to be retrained by the Army in their Intelligence Division. There he was charged with plotting battle formulas of military operations. This helped him become a master in military strategy and major battle tactics. Bryce was a model soldier until one day. He explained each possibility to a General, but the commanding officer in question did not take the plan with the least casualties because an other plan could bring greater results. After Bryce offended the General then he was immediately discharged from his career in the Army.
A few months after his job with the Army Bryce received a letter from a mysterious source. Bryce knew he would spent his time partying and wasting the rest of his life if he did not keep himself busy. That notion prompted him to accept the offer and he begun to travel to the airport in question so that he may see what this stranger wants from him.
Other: Bryce has U.S. Army Tattooed vertically from his left shoulder down his back.
Edit: your rules look strange to me. |
5,661 | 155 | 18 | 2,595 | 7,070 | Wow you're such a stick in the mud Alex! Come on a new place means new adventures and new journeys! More importantly it's a chance to learn how to do new stuff! commented Lambert with a giant smile as he grabbed a nearby bottle of wine and popped open the cork with his bare hands. Terry's eyes cocked a little at that, "Well then he's a strong fella ain't he?" Terry commented to nobody in specific as he turned attention to their driver as the limo started to drive off of the airport. Surprising that the man had enough money to get people to let the driver do this in the first place. "So sir how long will it take us to arrive at our destination?" Terry asked his driver as he fondled his cross. The man grumbled out something about a half an hour or so due to traffic but otherwise they shouldn't take too long to get there if they are lucky. | Name: Terry Adair
Nicknames: The Cross
Gender: Male
Weight: 220 lbs
Height: 6'1
Age: 24
Languages known: English, Japanese, Russian (minor knowledge)
Appearance:
Brown/black hair and green eyes
( - His lower body is a normal pair of jeans or sweat pants and under the coat is a nondescript grey shirt
!( "enter image title here")
Fullbringer Ability: Cross of Scaffold (クロス·オブ·スキャッフォルド, Kurosu obu Sukyafforudo): Using Fullbring, Terry is able to transform the Celtic Cross pendant on his necklace into a large Claymore. The blade is a long, very wide, double-edged form of a longsword. The crossguard consists of a small emerald gem at the center and two straight ornate arms ending in simplistic version of a fleur-de-lis. The sword's handle runs through its guard, continuing on through a gold hollow space at the base of its blade. The handle is almost the same length of the blade itself. This part of the handle allows Terry to attack opponents at closer ranges. By gripping the handle near the base of his broadsword's blade and swinging the Cross of Scaffold around, Though he has trouble doing so Terry can generate certain amounts of light green Reiryoku which sheathes itself over the blade. When he swings the sword at his desired target it unleashes a small wave of energy in the shape of a blade that can cut through enemies. This requires effort on his own behalf to do so since he only had basic training since he left Tokyo.
Fullbringer Item Appearance/Description: (
(
Spiritual/Reiryoku Level: Average Spiritual Awareness
Other Weapons/Instruments/Armor: None
Personality: Terry is a man raised on catholic beliefs and doesn't normally partake in alcohol or over consumption of foods. He is a tolerant person and is very calm normally but when angered becomes a very serious person. He is not fond of large groups as he prefers being able to talk to people individually without being interrupted and groups in general make him uncomfortable. As a person he is not one to proscribe to romance of any sort but he finds the idea interesting in itself. That being said he is not one to completely obstinate from liking another person romantically. He is not a very funny individual and any jokes he makes tend to be pretty lame or lack clever thought behind them. As a combatant he is serious and directly to the point not afraid of using dirty tricks to win the day but doesn't enjoy doing so. He has a distaste for the Soul Society and says that people should be free to make their own choices in life.
Terry's Fullbringer powers leave him with a sense of magnitude and a sense of dread. He dislikes being one targeted because of them but he still, despite all the trouble that it has caused him, loves having a unique ability no matter how much he may deny it outright. He enjoys the flow of combat and views it as a form of self expression and that a way a person fights says many things about the person. He is also a person whom doesn't mind being shouted at or demeaned. Terry, due to his time as a priest in training, also is a person who is neutral towards people in general and doesn't judge them based on their past but what they are doing right now.
History:
Born in southern Ireland to a woman named Michelle Leon and a father named Brandon Adair he (Terry) is the oldest son of the two children they had. Terry's mother was attacked by a crazed individual (whom was not seen again after the attack presumably he was caught or he died somewhere) and was hurt during her pregnancy but recovered due in no small part to the help of the town's doctor. Terry's parents where unimportant in the overall scheme of things with his mother being a nurse and his father being a construction worker and had only met when their friend introduced them to each other. Terry himself was often left with his rough and unready father whom showed he had little patience for little Terry but did his best to take care of him none the less being that Terry was his son and he wasn't about to become an abusive alcoholic father. His mother also took time to be with him when she could but was often to tired to do much and often got into fights with Brandon on who would raise Terry.
Eventually Terry was handed over to his uncle who lived nearby and worked at home as a farmer and was a devout catholic. Terry was raised there the majority of the time by his aunt Rose whom loved him like the son she couldn't have. Terry was often read parts of the bible and about the history of Ireland itself by Rose who was patient and understand of people who where not catholic unlike the more stubborn uncle. When he was old enough he split his time between reading and working with his dad on small projects that he was old enough for,which were few and far between and often it was unpleasant but respectable work none the less, and working on the farm that his uncle
As he grew older he noticed that he himself was a more physically tougher boy than his friends and classmates due to in no small part to the hard farming life he lived and the work with his father. When he got into a childish fist fight he often ended up giving people bloody noses and or outright overpowering kids who were from backgrounds that weren't like his. School itself was an strange ordeal and one that he didn't specifically excel at for the most part but did well enough. He wasn't a book smart child but liked the stories and challenges that came with reading and things like science and math. While his father helped him with math his mother and aunt helped him with his other projects and studies. He grew especially close to his aunt and started to go to church with her after school and learned to be tolerant of others but also to enjoy and praise the holy bible. However the arrival of his younger brother changed his life.
Terry was often annoyed by his little brother's crying and the attention given towards him by his mother Michelle caused him to spend more and more time with his extended family. However he often was in charge of his younger brother and was there for him when his parents where not and even his first word was Terry. Terry was there for his first steps and when he hurt himself with scraped knees. It was more out of a respect for family than love for his imminent sibling that he did those things though. When Terry became a teenager he started to consider a teaching career despite pushes to become an athlete by his dad and uncle. When things got to stressful in Terry's life he was often found going to churches to talk out his problems. His local priest, Father Mance, was often kind and considerate towards the boy despite not being from around here, coming from Russia, and became a mentor figure for young Terry. His little brother tried to keep up with him but failed miserably in his attempts to do so. And gradually Terry began to slip away from his family and more towards those around him. He had few and far between girlfriends and eventually he started to burrow himself into studying languages hoping to become a language teacher with the help of his mentor Father Mance. His most treasured item during this time was a Celtic cross worn by Mance until Terry's sixteenth birthday.
Towards the end of his school years Terry and his younger brother were out for a stroll when Terry and his brother were both attacked by a strange being whom was protecting a nearby playground they were walking past where a boy had died two weeks prior. Terry and his brother were afraid of the being though Terry's own inner strength made him brave enough to take most of the bad shots for his younger brother who insisted that he save himself. Terry was only aware of this being due to the fact that he had a strange sixth sense of sorts that allowed him to interact and see beings that passed on and his younger brother only had a basic awareness of it seeing the horrifying creature that was attacking them as a blurred vision compared to Terry whom saw the being in it's whole. Their father saw them being attacked and rushed to their aid despite not knowing what as happening and not being spiritually aware and only hurt himself in the process. Terry and his brother were almost certainly going to die until Father Mance steeped into the fight with a big brown war hammer. Father Mance displayed abilities that no one could have predicted and quickly dispatched the monster with ruthless ease which frightened young Terry. Much to Father Mance's annoyance before he could finish the monster off he was interrupted by a man in a black and white robes and was the lieutenant of a squad of some sort. The man made the monster vanish and then turned on Mance saying that he should have not gotten involved in which Mance retorted he didn't intend to let shinigami come late and cost boys their lives.
The man ignored that statement and went to erase the memory of Terry and the others despite his brother's arguments. Mance intervened on behalf of his student Terry saying the boy involuntarily used something called Fullbringer powers during the fight which Terry was confused about and told him that he didn't want his memories removed and that was a statement his younger brother agreed with. The Lieutenant gave Mance a deal after a firm argument from both parties and wiped out his brother's memories of this while keeping Terry. While his brother and father were sent to the hospital Mance and Terry both went back to the local chapel and Mance personally took care of Terry saying from this point forth that Terry's life would never be the same. Terry said he knew it wouldn't be but that's what he asked for.
Terry and Mance became in tangled in training in the outbacks of southern Ireland and occasionally France where they trained in the mountains. Mance told him about the basics of what was happening such as Hollows and Soul Reapers and told Terry he was like himself, a being known as a Fullbringer and that his mother had been attacked by a Hollow before his birth and some of that being's energy resided in him. Terry was a slow learner but he improved and eventually grew to have a certain strength in his Fullbringer power being able to conjure up a Claymore from his Celtic Cross. After this Terry and Mance left Ireland and France behind and left for Japan. Terry at this point had learned some Russian and Japanese due to Mance's recommendation due to Japan being where things normally hit the fan. Terry spent time as a priest in training there but gave that up once he had trouble coping with the trouble that came with knowing of the existence of the Soul Society. However he still followed the beliefs installed in him by his aunt and uncle. His brother often tried to contact Terry to little success normally. Terry would eventually gain a firm understanding of Japan after some year or so being there. Mance let Terry live his own life and was sent to a school where Mance's friend was a principal and gave him a spot for tutoring English for students.
Terry grew comfortable with his life up until his twenty first birthday where he came home from a party with his newer friend and companions only to find the church that Father Mance lived in was under attack. Terry was unable to find Mance until it was to late. Mance had been left lying on the ground in a pool of his own blood and his last words to Terry were that he was proud of the man the boy had become and that this wasn't his fault. Making his own path was far more important than the life of an aging priest. Mance pasted from this world as the same Shinigami came and brought him to the new world Terry took his money and quit his tutoring job after a week later and left for his home in Ireland. In his time in Tokyo he had only encountered a dozen hollows and only three of which he defeated himself. Terry's life would live the rest of his days there he decided before one day a strange ornate letter was given to him and a man requested his appearance and it was signed anonymously but the details inside of it proclaimed frightening knowledge of Terry's Fullbringer status. He was determined to find out who it was who sent this letter to him. |
5,662 | 156 | 0 | 2,441 | 646 | The sun blazed vengefully, as if it had been attacked and was now throwing its almighty retribution upon those who have aggrieved it. Jack Smith was sitting in English, a blank page with his name scrawled in the margin. He leaned back, swinging in the treacle heat, every movement stifled by the exhaustive heat. His head craned back and gazed at the neon lights, the luminosity blinding him. Jack stared on. "Mr Smith? Everything okay?" Mr Reynam asked, the sickly sarcastic tone evident in his reedy voice. "As always, sir, as always," Jack replied, deadpan. He didn't move, the secreted giggles of his class mates and the tired sigh escaping the weary heart of his teacher signal enough that he had finished the conversation. He thought about last night, about Robyn. Robyn was Jack's bestfriend for years. He appreciated that. She was chill, honest, a good laugh, smart, and as Jack has begun to notice, attractive. A shameful thought, that was his best friend, how could he? Through the slits in the window blinds Jack could feel the seeping heat of Sol. It glared angrily upon the Earth. He melted gracefully in the warmth. But in a crescendo of light, a magnificent final display of the finest orchestra in the history of ever, something that if truly witnessed could force an emotionless vessel to his knees and weep for the beauty of everything in that very moment, of the poetic dance of the atoms in the air and land, the sun stopped being. The desks and chairs in the classroom collectively shook as the students shivered. It wasn't cold, but it was so damn cold. The class blackened infinitely. It drowned the noise and buried it like a dead pet in the backyard. Mr Reynam, who was stood at the window seemed to spill away onto another layer of reality.
The classroom was stunned. People looked at one another, but nothing was exchanged. A kid sat next to him in the drowning black spoke. "What in the fucking fuck..." he asked. Jack turned around despite the fact that no-one could see in the dark. "Nerds," Jack said affectionately. "What's happening?" A nasaly voice in the corner replied. "It's an eclipse, but Jack, there's not supposed to be another eclipse for, well shit, a while. Is there any signal on your phone?" the voice asked. Jack pulled his phone out. No signal. "Nope." The voice remained quiet. Another voice spoke up though. "Sun flare with an eclipse? But why aren't the phones out...?" it pondered. Jack stood up. "Wait here a minute."
Jack bumped his way to the door and opened it. It was just as dark out here. Doors creaked open. "Guys!" he shouted into the depths. "One person out the door at a time, light the hallway with your phone. Come meet me at Mr Reynam's class," he said, the worries vibes of the students reaching Jack. People scampered up to him, a group of five or six sheepishly standing around. "Congratulations, amigos, you're all the designated leaders of each of your classes. Now, does anyone have any fucking clue what in the name of shit is going on? I need answers, and help, and this is not going well." | Name: Jack Smith
Age: 17
Year of Education: 11 (Junior Year)
Favourite Subject: Auto Shop, with the real-life aspects of Physics too
Personality (optional): Jack is a naturally charismatic guy who attracts attention from people whether he wants it or not. This means he has had to evolve into the defacto leader in many cases, and his voice is one that is widely listened to and respected among peers for his fairness. A kind kid who treats everyone with as much respect as they deserve, Jack is not one to shy away from dealing swift punishment to those who are cruel, and this is another reason that many of the younger or vulnerable students tend to recognise him as a friend and an ally, a notion Jack uses to his advantage for late assignments or difficult homework.
Background (optional): TBR
Significant Relationships: Since he was a child, he had been good friends with Robyn Capuche. They played together at school and sat together. One day, Robyn didn't show up for school. A week later she came back, a different girl. More secluded, quieter, less outgoing. Jack, being the chatty kid he was, took it upon himself to make her feel better. They bonded over her grief where she leaned on Jack for support, and he leaned on her because he had never had an honest, true friend. To this day they are inseparable. Always side-by-side, they ate lunch, hung out, grew up together.
Other: Jack is partially deaf and so wears a hearing aid. He also knows sign language which he uses when he does not have his aid with him. A member of the swim team who competed at national level. |
5,663 | 156 | 1 | 133 | 87 | Valerie wasn't entirely sure what was happening.
Everything was plodding along like normal, less than five minutes ago. Valerie had been sat in chemistry class, absently messing with the Bunsen burner flame in front of her as her lab partner rattled of the next step of the experiment they were supposed to be doing. Her partner, Angela, was nice enough, but the word 'interesting' certainly did not apply to her. Valerie nodded politely and carried out the method read out to her, wondering how long till the end of the lesson. She was gazing absently at the clock, its hands as slow as if ticking through treacle... when It happened.
If only she knew what 'It' was.
Her world plunged into darkness, and she felt the ground shake violently as though the earth was roaring. And the noise...something spectacular was happening but she, sat in this insignificantly classroom with her back to the window, wasn't able to bear witness to it. The flames of Bunsen burners all blinked out almost instantaneously and a frantic chatter broke out. Valerie nearly toppled off her chair as she fumbled for the edge of her desk to stop herself from losing her balance entirely. Angela was murmuring wildly, her tone fluctuating rapidly as she tried to work out what was happening and Valerie merely blinked, forcing her eyes to adjust to the lack of light. She felt herself shiver and then realised it was from the cold that had unfolded silently in the absence of the light.
"What happened? I can't see anything! It's freezing!"
"Mrs Rodgers...she was helping me f-f-ix my solution...she just vanished! Like, literally! Flashed out of existence!"
"Oh, shit! I just dropped my phone in the hydrochloric acid!"
Valerie, her feet itching with adrenaline, leapt off her chair and headed towards the doorway. She needed to move. Something freaky had happened and no way was she simply going to sit and wait for someone - she was a get-up-and-go type of person. A few others had a similar idea and she had to squeeze past them out the doorway. The corridor beyond them didn't illuminate the situation. Literally; the lights were out there too and she had to squint to see what was going on.
It only occurred to her to use her phone as light when she saw other doing it to. Grinning at her idiocy - for how else can you react in a situation as bizarre as this? - she slipped the cool, metallic object out her pocket and held it out in front of herself like a lantern. Kids streamed past her, their faces frozen in mirrored expressions of confusion, irritation and fear. She saw someone yelling at the end of the corridor and made a beeline for them, relieved that some sort of order was beginning to form amidst the chaos. Maybe a teacher had shown up to shed some sort of light on what exactly was happening.
But it appeared the source was no older than her - a guy, yelling orders about designated leaders, or something. Unthinkingly, she glided forward, determined to be involved in whatever was happening. She hated this sickening disorientation of having such a familiar routine destroyed without even a shred of an answer to how, why, what or who. And the whole thing seemed way too elaborate - too large, too real - to be a prank. She pushed her way forward.
"This is just crazy - where are the teachers? And why is it so cold?" she felt herself babble as much to herself as anyone else, trembling both from the cold and fear of the unknown. | -- |
5,664 | 156 | 2 | 2,441 | 646 | 1:27 PM. That's what Cecil's watch said, the dots between the hours and minutes flickering with each painful second. Almost an hour left of class, and Cecil was already fighting sleep. He cradled his jaw in his palm and cast his eyes at the sheaf of lined paper below him, trying to hide his bowing eyelids - the topmost page, naked of any ink, reflected his thoughts. This is how he often spent his time in English 40. There was nothing to learn that interested him. He didn't care about variables or aestheticism. Telling a story was dead simple, you just did it. And everyone else either liked it or they didn't - it didn't matter to him.
His head snapped back up and he realized he had drifted off. For how long? He checked his watch.
1:29
Cecil sighed quietly and snagged the bottle of water from in front of him. He closed his eyes, tipping his chin, bottle and chair back in equal measure - then something hit him, hit his spine like a bolt of lightning. His muscles convulsed in a wrenching shiver, sending his chair over sideways, and he fell back into the corner of the room.
Regret instantly filled him, flush with the pang of embarrassment. It took him a moment to realize his world was dark, and panic washed away all else. I'm blind. Oh fuck, I'm blind. What the fuck did I do?
It was only when he heard the other voices that his frantic mind quieted.
"...can't see..."
"...what happened..."
"...some kind of eclipse..."
Fragments of disembodied speech filled the room. Cecil stood, feeling his way up the wall behind him. If it was an eclipse, the light would return momentarily, and he only had to wait. Hopefully it hid his wipeout, too. Only one thing was curious to him: Mrs. Foster, the short, plump and talkative English teacher was strangely absent from the calls of the others. Maybe she's having a panic attack, Cecil thought, a slight wry smile touching his lips.
It was then he heard the calls from the hallway. A male student's voice bounced between the walls, quieting the others. "One person out the door at a time, light the hallway with your phone." There was an air of realization, and then a dozen faint lights began to dance in the air of the classroom, drawing silhouettes of young men and women before him.
Cecil smirked once again. Not everyone has a phone. He included himself on the list; sadly, it left him at a disadvantage in that situation. The ambient blue glow from the other students was enough to light his way, however, and he quietly shuffled through the doorway and into the looming dark beyond.
The source of the voice became apparent: Jack Smith, a loud-mouthed kid he'd seen around the school. He always seemed to be the centre of attention, talking over the quieter students with a self-satisfied light in his eyes. Cecil never liked the way he spoke, and his next words were all but appropriate to how Cecil discerned his character.
"Congratulations, amigos, you're all the designated leaders of each of your classes," Jack said in his smug tone. "Now, does anyone have any fucking clue what in the name of shit is going on? I need answers, and help, and this is not going well."
Once again, Cecil thought, standing still in the shadows two rooms down from Jack. A kid who thinks he's the most important thing on the planet. He contended himself with observing the influx of students, only one thing rousing him from his cynical stare. Where are the teachers? | Name: Jack Smith
Age: 17
Year of Education: 11 (Junior Year)
Favourite Subject: Auto Shop, with the real-life aspects of Physics too
Personality (optional): Jack is a naturally charismatic guy who attracts attention from people whether he wants it or not. This means he has had to evolve into the defacto leader in many cases, and his voice is one that is widely listened to and respected among peers for his fairness. A kind kid who treats everyone with as much respect as they deserve, Jack is not one to shy away from dealing swift punishment to those who are cruel, and this is another reason that many of the younger or vulnerable students tend to recognise him as a friend and an ally, a notion Jack uses to his advantage for late assignments or difficult homework.
Background (optional): TBR
Significant Relationships: Since he was a child, he had been good friends with Robyn Capuche. They played together at school and sat together. One day, Robyn didn't show up for school. A week later she came back, a different girl. More secluded, quieter, less outgoing. Jack, being the chatty kid he was, took it upon himself to make her feel better. They bonded over her grief where she leaned on Jack for support, and he leaned on her because he had never had an honest, true friend. To this day they are inseparable. Always side-by-side, they ate lunch, hung out, grew up together.
Other: Jack is partially deaf and so wears a hearing aid. He also knows sign language which he uses when he does not have his aid with him. A member of the swim team who competed at national level. |
5,665 | 156 | 3 | 2,097 | 1,847 | Alright, everyone run a mile! Robyn smiled as once again their class got in trouble. Most of the people thought she was crazy for loving to run, but for some reason, she absolutely loved to do it. She took off at a sprint around the outside of the track, easily surpassing the people that started before her. She nodded to her friends and glared at her enemies and easily made it to the finish line before even the front person made their third lap. She smiled at the P.E. teacher and he rolled his eyes.
"Get inside Capuche, and go take a shower. We're done for the day after this. I don't understand why the rest of the students can't be like you." She smiled at this comment as well and took off at a jog toward the school. She loved the feel of her heart beating rapidly in her chest and the losing of strength in her legs. She didn't know why, but she loved it all. She yanked the door to the gym open and headed for the locker rooms. On the way, she passed a few of the students and she smiled and nodded to them. They smiled back, though they had no idea who she even was.
Robyn dodged into one of the girls' locker rooms and immediately headed for the shower, stripping off her clothing as she did. She left them on the side, placing newer, fresher clothing down next to the shower. She pulled the curtain closed and stepped into the soothing cold water. The freezing, almost ice water ran down over her back and sent shivers down her spine, but it soothed her sore muscles perfectly. She grabbed her shampoo and massaged at her hair, feeling a slight headache coming on. She quickly rinsed it out and was about to put on her condition when suddenly, a jet of ice cold water shot out at her before shutting completely off. The lights above her sputtered and flared out before completely going into darkness.
She looked around confusedly and heard some of the students in the hallway freaking out. She peered out around the curtain to the shower and looked into the locker room. There was no one else in there, as far as she could tell, but it was pitch black. She quickly grabbed her towel, dried herself off, and slipped into her new clothes, not bothering to pull on any shoes. She walked out of the locker room and saw that it was pitch black there too. What was going on?
Someone ran by her, crying and sobbing, whispering, "He disappeared! He just disappeared! Mr. Riley is gone! An eclipse happened and he was gone!" Mr. Riley was the gym teacher. What did the student mean by he just disappeared?!
Suddenly, she heard Jack's loud voice down the hallway and she was filled with relief. At least her childhood friend was safe. She immediately ran down the hallway, heading toward his voice. Because it was pitch black, though, she ran directly into one of the water fountains. She let out a gasp of pain and moved out from around the drinking fountain, massaging her now bruised thigh. She sighed and kept limping toward Jack's voice. There were about five or six kids around him at the time and she couldn't help herself. She shoved passed them all and grabbed Jack in a huge hug. "Thank God you're alright." | Name:
Robyn Capuche
Age:
16
Appearance (real images only):
Year of Education:
11th (Junior Year)
Favourite Subject:
Gym
Personality (optional):
Robyn, on the outside, seems to be the perfect girl. She is extremely nice, sweet, and caring. She does not seem to hurt a fly and is nice to anyone who talks to her. She is smart and outgoing, an extrovert more than an introvert. She’s not afraid to meet new people or try new things and she always stands up for what she feels is right. She could be classified as more of a nerdy girl, considering the fact that she plays video games and studies a lot more than she should.
Background (optional):
Robyn’s childhood was typical. She grew up with upper middle class parents and her childhood was normal. She loved her parents and, being an only child, she had all of their love as well. That all changed when they went camping. There had been reports of someone breaking out of an insane asylum nearby and people were warned to stay in their houses, but her parents didn’t listen. She was out swimming in the lake when she heard screams coming from her campsite. She ran back immediately and saw that her parents had been brutally murdered. The man, the insane one, was nowhere to be found though, and she was left without parents. She was only eight at the time.
She went to live with her grandmother uptown, but she kept having nightmares about that night. Finally, she was walking down the street to her middle school when she saw a combat school. She thought it looked interesting and immediately begged her grandmother to let her enroll for the summer. She did, and Robyn learned more about fighting in one summer than most army soldiers do in a whole year. She only did it for that summer, but she mastered archery and some hand to hand fighting styles. Though she still holds the sweet persona, she is, technically, a badass when it comes to fighting.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters:
Jack Smith- Her and Jack have been friends ever since they were really little. They used to play together all the time after they met in their first grade class. She had to borrow a green crayon from him and ever since, they have been friends. They weren't always the friends who would hang out almost every day. But after her parents' murder, they seemed to hang out all the time and have become almost inseparable. They always eat together at lunch and can always been seen talking to each other or walking with each other around the school. Jack is one of her only solid friends.
Other:
I dare you to look up what Capuche means in French. xD Also, she loves the color green and though her parents were murdered in the woods, she still loves to go camping. |
5,666 | 156 | 4 | 101 | 98 | Avi was sitting in the music room alone, his electric guitar lying flat on his lap. On the guitar sat a paper, and in his right hand Avi was holding a pen. On the paper was written in messy handwriting:
Fly or fall it's all a game
Live or die it's all the same
Think about it, feel the pain
I am slowly going insane
There is no meaning
We're all alone
Prove me wrong
Lead me home
x2
Avi smiled. Finally, he had finished writing the first part of his first song. He already had the tune ready, so he stood up, put the paper and pen on the chair and took the guitar into his hands. He started playing the music, his fingers running like water over the guitar strings, every note landing with perfect timing. He sang the words, feeling the excitement rising to his chest. This sounds really good.
He reached the last line and closed his eyes, feeling the music and words enter his heart. His pick fell on the guitar strings for the last chord. But instead of hearing the Em chord as expected, all he heard was a loud crackle and then utter silence. He opened his eyes, but to no avail. All was pitch black. The next thing he noticed was the chill in the air. What the hell?
He could hear people starting to shout outside the room, so putting the guitar down he managed to somehow reach the door without tripping over anything. He opened the door and looked out. All he could see was little flashes of light. It took him a moment to realize the flashes were phones that people were using for light. Why didn't I think of that.
He took out his phone, and started walking down the corridor until he reached an intersection. Turn right or keep going straight? The teachers room was right, so he decided to go in that direction. Maybe the teachers would know what was going on. He turned, and almost immediately heard a voice coming from further down the hallway.
"One person out the door at a time, light the hallway with your phone. Come meet me at Mr Reynam's class."
Jack Smith. Avi didn't know him too well, but he remembered getting into a discussion with him once about music, and Avi tried to explain to him the genius behind the science of music. Jack didn't get it. But other than that Avi knew Jack to be a good person, so he decided to follow his orders. It was nice having someone in-charge in a time of complete disorientation.
"Congratulations, amigos, you're all the designated leaders of each of your classes. Now, does anyone have any fucking clue what in the name of shit is going on? I need answers, and help, and this is not going well."
Avi certainly did not have any answers, but he did have many questions. Like why was Jack giving directions? Where did the teachers disappear to? Why is there no light? Why was it suddenly so cold? What the fuck? | Name: Avi Raclaw
Age: 17
Appearance (real images only):
Year of Education: 11
Favourite Subject: Music
Personality (optional): If TBR is "to be revealed" so TBR
Background (optional): Avi's family was the richest family in the county. As a single child, growing up Avi had anything a teenager could want - video games, a car, clothes - but all he wanted was his guitar. He has been studying guitar since the age of 6, and he fell in love with it immediately. He would spend most of the day practicing, and by the age of 13 he had won the county music competition, not to mention almost every school talent show. He also studied the electric guitar, and enjoys playing his favorite music - heavy metal. Music is his love and passion. When the shit hit the fan and the sun was covered by the moon, Avi lost contact with his family and most of his friends.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters: None yet.
Other: He still has his guitar at the school. Other than guitar he also enjoys fishing, archery and hiking. Is allergic to nuts, not including almonds and peanuts. Favorite animal is wolf and favorite color is green. |
5,667 | 156 | 5 | 2,441 | 646 | Jack stood in the centre of the bubbling crowd. It had started off as one person from each classroom but others from different corridors and classes had left theirs and wandered until they were attracted to the phones like a moth to a flame. He was worried he had made the wrong choice. He wasn't particularly intelligent, like many of the people here who could sort this problem out by the end of the day and be home by supper. He wasn't stupid, he was smart in a technical, practical way, but this wasn't something you could unscrew and replace the battery. But you can't think like that when you're faced with what you're faced with. He was on good terms with almost everyone, which could make problem solving and mediating easier, he was good with people which would make crowd control simpler, he had some other, outside skills too, which could be handy. Jack repeated these things to himself in his head, over and over and over again until he might've believed it if the recurring question 'What's going on, Jack?' was a question he knew the answer to.
"Alriiiight, one at a time people, one a time. This is tricky, bare with me," Jack said over the anxious chatter of the crowd. "Number one, I do not know what is going on. One of the science nerds said it was an eclipse, and he's currently brainstorming with the others. If anything comes of that, I will let you know," he said, over-pronouncing the last phrase of the sentence. The crowd were not best pleased by his response. Like it or not, that's what you're goddamn getting, he thought. "Number two, I do not know where the teachers have gone. They're just gone. Does anyone know if any teachers are left? At all? Alright, can someone go check all the classrooms for me? Report back once you've checked every room in the building, clear?" Jack ordered into the darkness, and was sent back a high-pitched young boys voice then the rapid patter of footsteps. Some little kid who wanted to help the big kids. "Number three, I do not know why it's so cold. It's looking like everyone got the shiver at exactly the same time. It's a... mass thing, I suppose, something that affected everyone. That's all we can figure out," he replied to the questions cawing out in the dark like crows trying to communicate.
As the crowd quieted, and intelligent conversation started to take place begging the question of what?, Aria ran forth from the black velvet. A young kid who was crazy smart, Jack liked her a lot. When she first came to the school, she was bullied quite badly. He stepped in and said that it wouldn't be a good idea to continue on their current course (thankfully backed up by some jocks, because there was no way Jack could take on that crowd himself). They helped each other out now, like symbiosis, where he ensured she got everything she needed and she did the odd piece of homework for him. She spoke to him about the paper, laughably, and mentioned the computers. "Hey, look, don't worry about the homework right now. That's something to sort out when we figure this out, but the computers thing is interesting, as is the solar flare. So you're saying that the only electronics still working are ones that weren't plugged in?" Jack half-asked, half-pondered. It was interesting. Maybe they could plug something in and see if it stopped working. If not, maybe it was just the breakers and that needed resetting? "Alright, Aria, listen to me carefully. You remember when you first got here and those assholes would bully you, yeah? Fuck 'em. You're a fully fledged badass now. I need you to be the voice of me for a while, and I need you to go to the library and take them to the auditorium. You tell them I sent you. You get them to the auditorium, and then you come find me," Jack said. The authority growing in his voice felt comfortable, like it was a pet cat who had been lying still until you stroked it and it started purring, appreciating the comfort.
When he finished speaking to Aria, a familiar voice broke the black. Robyn was alright. She collided with him and sent him stumbling back, but he held his footing. "I'm glad you're okay too. Listen, I want you to tell me everything you know so far, but first we have to sort these kids out. Tell the leaders here to get their classes to the auditorium, and to wait there. Get them seated, and get them quiet. Wait there for me, and be careful. I heard you smash your damn hip from over here," Jack joked, grinning to himself in the darkness.
Jack turned his flashlight to outside of the circle and saw two pale shades hanging in the air like smudges on the inky black canvas. "You and you, come here," he said as he snuck closer, extremely worried that some kind of angry ghost would leap out from its cover and attack him. But it wasn't. A sullen kid he didn't recognise who looked at Jack distrustfully, and Avi, a musician who Jack had spoke to a few times. "Avi, good to see you. Anything to tell from up your way?" Jack asked but he carried on before he could answer. Formalities, in this situation. "Look, we're getting all the students in the auditorium to keep track of them. Robyn is organising all the leaders the now, but can you go with her? Once you get to the auditorium, just, I don't know, occupy them. You're good with a guitar, think of something, would you please? I'd be eternally grateful, buddy," Jack said. He really wasn't asking, to be fair. This wasn't the time nor circumstance to be asking for a favour. It was a time where order had to be restored quickly so that the situation could be dealt with in a manner that allowed efficiency. And what everyone needed now was some order and efficiency.
Jack turned to the other boy slinking in the shadows. "You, kid, you're being deputised. I'm going to need your help. Do you have a phone? We need to go around the school and clear the classrooms, and then bring them down to the auditorium. We gotta keep them close and quiet and chilled out, understand?" Jack asked, wondering why he looked at Jack like he was Pol Pot.
Jack turned on his heel. The entire school had gotten quiet, not the students but the creaking of the structure and sound of the floors and doors had stopped. Pipes no longer had water running through them. Heating had turned off. The situation had gone flashing red button bad. And when the silence of the world had reached a crushing point where eardrums wanted to implode, a shriek sounded through the air, like a banshee, the omen of death. The cry wasn't one of terror or sadness, but it was angry and hateful and full of anguish, something that could only be made by searching the depths of a soul to find everything wrong with it. The cry whimpered and Jack's heart felt weak, like he had lost something important to him. and all he wanted to do was curl up and weep until his skin dried up and cracked and his bones crunched under footsteps. And at the moment when you thought the cry of evil would quieten to nothing, a thousand more voices joined its symphony and his body just wanted to tear itself apart to stop the heartache killing him first. The chorus softened until it had disappeared and Jack sat for a moment, simply wondering how anyone could live after that and want to keep on surviving when he remembered he had people to save, not that he felt it was worth it at all. Jack stood, knees weak, heart empty, soul vacant. "Let's go," he said feebly to the other boy. | Name: Jack Smith
Age: 17
Year of Education: 11 (Junior Year)
Favourite Subject: Auto Shop, with the real-life aspects of Physics too
Personality (optional): Jack is a naturally charismatic guy who attracts attention from people whether he wants it or not. This means he has had to evolve into the defacto leader in many cases, and his voice is one that is widely listened to and respected among peers for his fairness. A kind kid who treats everyone with as much respect as they deserve, Jack is not one to shy away from dealing swift punishment to those who are cruel, and this is another reason that many of the younger or vulnerable students tend to recognise him as a friend and an ally, a notion Jack uses to his advantage for late assignments or difficult homework.
Background (optional): TBR
Significant Relationships: Since he was a child, he had been good friends with Robyn Capuche. They played together at school and sat together. One day, Robyn didn't show up for school. A week later she came back, a different girl. More secluded, quieter, less outgoing. Jack, being the chatty kid he was, took it upon himself to make her feel better. They bonded over her grief where she leaned on Jack for support, and he leaned on her because he had never had an honest, true friend. To this day they are inseparable. Always side-by-side, they ate lunch, hung out, grew up together.
Other: Jack is partially deaf and so wears a hearing aid. He also knows sign language which he uses when he does not have his aid with him. A member of the swim team who competed at national level. |
5,668 | 156 | 6 | 2,097 | 1,847 | Robyn didn't know whether to be grateful or horrified that Jack was in charge, but when he asked her to take all of the students to the auditorium, she did not argue, though she did give a small smile to him making fun of her for hurting herself a little ways down the hallway. Grabbing the hair tie from around her wrist, she quickly pulled her hair up into a high ponytail. At that moment, Jack was talking to an unusual lad named Avi, telling him to follow her down to the auditorium and distract everyone from what is going on. She placed her two pinky fingers in her mouth and let out a high pitched whistle, yelling, "Everyone, follow me!" Doing the smart thing this time, she grabbed her phone and flipped it on, flipping to the flashlight app on her phone. She held it up to where people could see her and that's when the cry started.
She looked around, staring into the blackness to see if she could see anything, or at least figure out where the cry was coming from. She couldn't and she saw Jack fall to his knees. She wanted to reach out to him, but she was frozen in her spot. It was as if nails had been shoved through the top of her feet, pinning her down to the ground. The cries sent chills down her spine and she squeezed her eyes shut, turning her face away from the darkness as a flood of horrid memories washed over her.
Blood. Blood everywhere. On the trees, across the tents, in the flowers on the bushes. She stumbled her way through the camp, grabbing at things that had been knocked over, grabbing her small bunny rabbit plushie that was now drenched with blood. She looked around, wondering what had caused this, hoping that the only thing hurt was her mother's finger or a small animal.
But then she came across the fire pit. Across it lay her mother, still bleeding from a wound in her neck, though she was already dead. Her skull was crushed inward, probably crushing her brain. Her eyes were wide and lifeless. Robyn did not cry. A few feet away, she saw her father, the same way, but with his arm completely missing and his head half torn off his body. Yet she still did not cry. Instead, she sat between her two parents, taking their hands in each of hers, and waited for the police. She only cried when the morgue people took them away from her. Why didn't she cry any other time?
Robyn let out a gasp and blinked, looking around as the cry faded. Pain punctured her heart and she turned around to see a few of the students staring at her. They all looked alone and fearful as well. She clutched her chest, tears starting to well up in her eyes, and murmured, "Let's go."
Not seeing if anyone was following her, she began walked toward the auditorium. She looked around, still wondering where those horrific cries came from, but she could not find the source. She led all of them down the hallway and to the right, straight toward the auditorium. Holding the door open for each of them, she began yelling, "Stay with your classes! Keep calm. Leaders! Make sure everyone is here and no one runs off, got it?!" She heard a few murmurs and looked back toward the direction where Jack was. What the hell is going on?! | Name:
Robyn Capuche
Age:
16
Appearance (real images only):
Year of Education:
11th (Junior Year)
Favourite Subject:
Gym
Personality (optional):
Robyn, on the outside, seems to be the perfect girl. She is extremely nice, sweet, and caring. She does not seem to hurt a fly and is nice to anyone who talks to her. She is smart and outgoing, an extrovert more than an introvert. She’s not afraid to meet new people or try new things and she always stands up for what she feels is right. She could be classified as more of a nerdy girl, considering the fact that she plays video games and studies a lot more than she should.
Background (optional):
Robyn’s childhood was typical. She grew up with upper middle class parents and her childhood was normal. She loved her parents and, being an only child, she had all of their love as well. That all changed when they went camping. There had been reports of someone breaking out of an insane asylum nearby and people were warned to stay in their houses, but her parents didn’t listen. She was out swimming in the lake when she heard screams coming from her campsite. She ran back immediately and saw that her parents had been brutally murdered. The man, the insane one, was nowhere to be found though, and she was left without parents. She was only eight at the time.
She went to live with her grandmother uptown, but she kept having nightmares about that night. Finally, she was walking down the street to her middle school when she saw a combat school. She thought it looked interesting and immediately begged her grandmother to let her enroll for the summer. She did, and Robyn learned more about fighting in one summer than most army soldiers do in a whole year. She only did it for that summer, but she mastered archery and some hand to hand fighting styles. Though she still holds the sweet persona, she is, technically, a badass when it comes to fighting.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters:
Jack Smith- Her and Jack have been friends ever since they were really little. They used to play together all the time after they met in their first grade class. She had to borrow a green crayon from him and ever since, they have been friends. They weren't always the friends who would hang out almost every day. But after her parents' murder, they seemed to hang out all the time and have become almost inseparable. They always eat together at lunch and can always been seen talking to each other or walking with each other around the school. Jack is one of her only solid friends.
Other:
I dare you to look up what Capuche means in French. xD Also, she loves the color green and though her parents were murdered in the woods, she still loves to go camping. |
5,669 | 156 | 7 | 133 | 87 | The noise - Cecil couldn't call it a scream, it was completely inhuman - rattled inside his skull, causing him to flinch back, eyes wide. His head flailed, trying to find the source, but he could not see beyond the infinite and unnatural darkness in the halls. Fear gripped his heart like an icy hand, squeezing him dry of anything else.
When it finally ended, Cecil forced himself to breathe again, drawing up as straight as he could stand. There was nothing else, until Jack spoke again.
"Let's go," he said, igniting a wildfire of fearful whimpers and whispers from the other students.
Cecil chuckled passively, a sound almost lost in the din of worry. He had donned his armour of indifference, the only thing he could do to prevent himself from panicking like the rest. "Pretty sure anyone here can find their own way to the auditorium," he said, stepping towards Jack. Cecil stood nearly a hand's length taller, and he declined his head to meet the other student's eyes. "Shouldn't we try to turn the lights on? Or maybe figure out what the fuck that sound was?" There must be something in the basement they could do, until the sun came out of hiding. | -- |
5,670 | 156 | 8 | 2,622 | 3,554 | The girl had been sitting alone in the old music room; it had been abandoned as a storage room for all the sheet music, broken instruments and those that weren't being currently used when the extension of the school had been built the year Vanessa had first come here and she'd been using it as a get away ever since. She'd dragged a soft beanbag chair into the room last week and was now lounging in it reading a large bool - titled The Historian actually. The lights were off, a soft reading light attached to the top of her book while she read by it itself of the harsh lights of the main room. Her phone(s), portable gaming systems, ipod, portable batteries and tablet were all plugged into the power bar beside her, charging while the girl skipped her third period class and avoided the teachers that prowled the hallways looking for a reason to give a student detention. Mr. Saika had given her a key several years ago, allowing her to come and go as she pleased; the young teacher was barely twenty four and had favored her since she'd first gone to his music class.
Her reached up a hand to brush a lock of purple-black hair out of her face, thin fingers moving it expertly around the headphones that sat on her ears and blasted music from her ipod into her ears and kept her from hearing the students moving between classes and talking like they always had. Her eyes followed the lines of the page easily, soft, stormy grey framed by long, thick and curved lashes and high cheekbones that set off her angular and elegant features. She would normally have gotten quite a bit of attention from the male students of the school, if she had not always come across as unapproachable or uncaring when someone else spoke to her. So far the only one who had managed to stick around long enough to see the damaged girl without her usual sweater was Cecil and even then she hadn't told him her story either. Along the line of her sweater sleeve was a fresh bandage wrapped around her wrist as well, peering out just where the soft grey fabric wouldn't reach when she moved. If she got up of course she would have left her hands crammed into her pockets.
Her knees were bent some, cradling the book in her lap while she flipped through the pages that rest between the hard covers with the spine settled between her thighs. The jeans she wore were a deep black, contrasting greatly with her alabaster skin, purple socks on her feet as they were pulled up onto the soft seat with her while she curled up in the chair. Her high tops lay discarded on the carpet floor not too far from her, easily within reach while she twirled a lock of straight hair between her fingers silently. The song softened slightly while she read; the lyrics to Save Me From Myself, by Blacklisted Me playing as she slid over to the following page. It was a song that made her feel as if there was someone else out there who understood how she felt on a level that not one person she had ever met would be able to comprehend. She sighed, soft lips parting for a moment to allow the warm air to pass between her lips as she closed the book and yawned quietly. It had been a while since she last slept peacefully through the night, often her sleep disrupted by terrible nightmares and constant waking dreams that permeated the air around her as well; soft purple spots under her eyes were barely concealed by the cover-up she'd put on them this morning, hiding how little she had slept the night before. If only she could nap here without the risk of waking up screaming.
Tucked around the corner, between two high stacks of filing cabinets with the wall behind her she hadn't seen the power go out or the lights shut off; nor the eclipse that was happening outside right then with the curtains heavy and drawn closed to leave the room in total darkness apart from the small light that was still on in her lap, casting a shadow over her book and legs that looked as if to be shaped like a pair of eyes that watched from the shadows if one looked at it hard enough. The shiver that sudden ran up her spine was alarming for the paranoid girl though and as her muscles seized in her back she struggled to flick open the blade of the knife she kept in her pocket and touched it to the inside of her palm to calm her beating heat. She turned off her music and let the headphones fall down around her thin neck; her jugular was nearly visible through her partially translucent skin as well. She looked over at her devices and checked them all, none were charging but thankfully they had all reached full charge before the power had gone out. The power bar itself had turned off when the power did to avoid harming the electronic that were plugged into it from any real damage from the electrical surge that preceded the power outage.
Slowly she unplugged each of them and tied up the cords before fitting everything neatly in her satchel and standing again where she had before originally sitting down. Turning off her book light she let her eyes adjust to the darkness of the room and slipped her shoes on while sliding the strap of the satchel over her shoulder and touching a hand to the row of cabinets beside her. It wasn't the first time she had been locked inside of a dark room and it didn't frighten her nearly as much as it had when it had been her father keeping her there, tied to the bed so that she couldn't get away from him. One the plus side she had gotten very good at untying knots and finding her way around a dark space. Vanessa blinked once, just to be sure her eyes had adjusted as much as they would be and made her way to the door of the classroom. It took her a moment to find the lock though not long afterward she twisted the key and opened the door to an empty hallway though she could hear the panic of the students echoing through the corridors.
The girl turned toward the noise, her injured hands fingers grazing against the painted stone wall of the old hall and followed it until she came to a juncture between the old part of the school and the new part where the new auditorium and music rooms were. Her shoes were the only sound for a little while until she heard an familiar voice above the silence of the other students. It looked like the entire school was surrounding him, the glow of cell phones lighting up the area though she held back in the shadows to listen to them. She wasn't one for group work and never had been before, honestly with little initiative to share any information she may have, though she hadn't known it was much more than a power outage. When she heard someone mention teachers vanishing into thin air she looked around, hoping to see some sign of Mr. Saika though she didn't see any right away. She waited until most of the students had started moving and orders had been handed out before she had taken a step toward Jack Smith.
That was when the screaming started. Her first reaction was the lift the headphones back up over her ears to dull some of the sound when the voice was joined by others, all of it seeming to be coming from outside the school walls. Lowering her head she pressed the muffling set of headphones against her ears but it didn't stop the vibrations from settling into her very bones and she doubled over as several cuts on her arms and torso tore open in response to the strain it was putting on her body just to withstand the agonizing sound that rumbled deeply inside her body. She heard a growl in response to her and knew it wasn't real; the sound was just in her head, calling to be let out though she couldn't with the hinged coming undone. She would have hurt someone if the screaming hadn't stopped right then, leavign most of the students drained of energy and hope.
Vanessa watched for a moment, her heart pounding as blood blossomed on the bandages beneath her her clothing and hidden from the view of the others around. Adrenaline pumping through her system, her pupils dilated and taking in all available light to help her see, the junior student stepped forward without certainty though she didn't make much noise as she stepped lightly through the shadows toward Jack. He was alone, with all the others moving on already and when she had stopped moving herself it was because she was standing a few feet away from the boy, still half hidden by the shadows cast by the retreating glow.
"Jack."
She had only said his first name while she watched him, her headphones around her neck again and her hand inside of her pockets with the knife that had been since folded back in on itself to hide the sharp edge from the fragile flesh of humanity. Her eyes, dark and wide in the dark, framed by shadows cast upon her delicate features and following the lines of her graceful jawline and cheekbones. She linked, long lashes casting a soft undertone over her eyes, making the little colour in them shine more silver than their natural grey though she didn't seem to know the effect of the darkness on herself. | Name: Cecil Ambrose
Age: 20
Appearance: Cecil is a broad youth, standing at six feet three inches with somewhat developed muscle and a large bone structure. He has tanned skin and thick black hair cut within an inch of his scalp. His eyes are a pale green, sharp in a perpetual frown. His nose is straight and slightly bold, and stubble often coats his jaw. He favours dark clothing, often wearing bluejeans with a black shirt and sports jacket and black runners.
Year of Education: 12
Favourite Subject: Physical Education
Personality: Cecil is first and foremost an isolated individual, unskilled and inexperienced with other people. As he grew into adulthood, his social fear diminished, leaving behind bluntness and stark disinterest. He is often numb to the energy around him, and strongly independent. Another side-effect of his introverted nature is his quick temper and violent anger, and he is prone to physically lashing out when in distress. Usually only inanimate objects are targeted by this habit, but it can stem to other people in the worst of times. In the best of times Cecil is a clear-headed and thoughtful individual, quick-learning and wilful with strong coordination and problem-solving capabilities.
Background: Cecil grew up in a relatively untroubled family, though his livid outbursts quickly made others wary of him. He never had an easy time in school, and at a young age was often the target of aggression from his classmates. In his 10th year, Cecil altogether ejected himself from the school system, finding seclusion in his bedroom deeply more comfortable. He returned to school after accepting it as a hurdle he needed to overcome, joining a local highschool in a special degree that permitted him to attend until turning 21.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters: Casual friends with Vanessa, who he knows as a fellow introvert and someone he can find to pass the time or enjoy unconditional companionship. |
5,671 | 156 | 9 | 2,441 | 646 | Aria turned to the newcomer Cecil. He towered over her, being she was small for her age and probably five years younger than him. “Unless you know where we can find about a hundred fluorescent tube lights and at least a thousand circuit breakers, and someone with enough knowledge and technical awareness, not to mention awareness of the layout of the school, to repair them in the pitch-black, we won’t be able to turn the lights on. Didn’t you just hear me say that all the devices that were plugged in got fried? Also, everyone is freaking out right about now. They’ll welcome a sense of order.”
She grinned at Jack’s comment about “fully-fledged badass” and nodded, her pale skin glowing with the light from the phones. “Of course, Jack. I’ll get them there. I won’t let you down.” She turned and melted back into the blackness, using only the dim display on her phone as a light source. She got back to the library to find the kids huddled around a laptop, looking un-amused.
“Okay, everyone. We’re all to assemble in the auditorium and Jack will help sort us out from there. Jack Smith? He’s in charge, and it’s under his authority that I’m telling you this. So shut down the computers, all of them. We need to save as much of their battery life as we can. All of you except Jared, shut down your phones.” When they raised their voices she held her phone in the air, and they quieted. “Just shush, all of you, and follow me to the auditorium. If we’re going to figure out what’s going on you all need to be there, so everyone’s on the same page and so Jack only has to explain things once.” When they hesitated she snapped, “Hurry and shut off the laptops, or they’ll waste all their batteries and then we’ll truly be screwed.”
They followed her orders, finally, and formed into a ragged line behind her. She held her phone up. “Jared, go to the back of the line and hold your phone up.” He obeyed, thankfully.
They’d just gotten into the hallway when the scream started, a loud unending keening wail that sounded like heartbreak and terror personified. Aria stumbled, the blackness suddenly confining, suddenly feeling like she couldn’t breathe, couldn’t move. Her knees buckled and she fell on the floor gasping, overwhelmed by pain like she had been five years previously.
“You’re a freak, Aria.”
“A stuck-up goody-two-shoes who goes crying to her mommy whenever anything goes wrong.”
“Always thinking you’re better than us.” A kick to the ribs that left a broken one or two.
“Always trying to turn our friends against us.”
“Buttering up the teachers so they fail us.” She was picked up and slammed into a wall.
“You don’t deserve to live.” They started ripping the clothes off of her in the dark. She shied away but they were always there, on every side of her, leaving her no way to escape.
“S-Stop, please! P-p-please leave me alone.”
“Why, darling? So that you can go back to the principal and report us?”
“Just know that if you do, your reputation will be shredded. No one will trust you ever again as a tutor or as a teacher.” The one behind her put his arms around her now-bare shoulders, running his fingers down her chest.
“J-just l-l-leave me a-alone and I’ll n-n-never bother y-you ag-again.” She was sobbing in terror, clawing at them, trying to fight through them. But to no avail, for she was just a little thing and they were all much bigger and older.
~~~
Hated and feared. Impure, unwanted, unloved. A freak. The words went through her head, every one leaving an emotional gouge on her heart and a very physical one on her forearms. A suck-up. An outcast. Belonging nowhere, always desiring friendships that were impossible to have.
A scream worked its way out of her throat, a broken, truly hopeless sound, and there was a pounding on the door, and then the light burst into the dark room and with it her mother, sobbing, and then a whirlwind, and finally blackness and silence.
“Aria? Aria. ARIA.” A voice in her ear, a hand on her arm. She hissed as the scars on her forearms twinged in a memory of pain. “Aria, it’s okay. Come on, on your feet.” She placed the voice with the name; Connor. One of the other tutors who must have been on the way to the library when the lights went out.
“Aria, Adam,” he mentioned his twin, “took your group to the auditorium. You had them all freaking out. What happened?”
“It was nothing.” The lie felt heavy on her tongue.
Connor sighed, but didn’t question it. “Do you want to go to the auditorium?”
Aria shook her head. “No, I’ve got to go find Jack. I was supposed to help him figure out what the bleep was going on, but I don’t think that’ll happen now. And I need to walk down there myself… Go join the rest of the kids in the auditorium and have most of them turn off their phones. We need all the battery life we can save.”
“Alright… Are you sure you can find him alright?” Connor asked, clearly nonplussed at the idea of sending an emotionally unstable girl off into the dark school.
“I’ll be fine, Connor, but thank you.” She said, making a shoo-ing motion with her hands. Finally he turned to go back down the hall.
Aria hurried back in the direction she had come, trying to keep her breathing even against the darkness that threatened to overwhelm her again. “Jack?”
She heard another girl say his name at exactly the same time. Vanessa. That was her name. They’d been in a couple of AP classes together, and had been rather acquaintances throughout the school year. “Hey, Vanessa. Jack, you’ll have two students from the tutoring room unaccounted for, Connor and Adam Anderson, because they were headed to the library for their shift at proctoring and they took my group down to the auditorium. I kind of…” She bit her lip uncertainly. “Freaked out at the scream.” She shook her head to clear the lingering terror. “Also, would it be alright if I took a couple kids and went to check the offices? I’m thinking I’ll check the front office to see if there is any info, like a scheduled power outage or something. Not that I’m thinking there will be, but… Yeah. Then I’ll go to the computer lab and see how many laptops we have. We don’t have internet, because it was plugged into the main computer system and got fried, but they’ll work as light sources. Vanessa, I was wondering… You did a bit of medical school. If you’d come with me, we could take a tally of what all we have as far as pain killers, antibiotics, antiseptics, and that sort of thing. Then you could go to the auditorium and see if anyone got hurt in the rush of people?” She looked at Jack uncertainly. “If that’s okay with you, anyway, Jack. I don’t want to undermine your authority in any way.”
“As far as me, after we tally medicine, I’d like to inventory our food supplies in the kitchen. After that at some point I’d like a crew of seniors, maybe four or five, to go through all the supply cupboards and everyone’s lockers with me. We’ll need to see if we have running water, and if not we’ll have to get the Craftsmanship seniors and juniors onto it.” She probably wasn’t making sense but she just wanted to get all her ideas out into the air for Jack to hear.
“Oh, and for the elementary and middle school kids. I can maybe take them to the gym and give them something to do, like I may be able to rig something so that they can entertain themselves with finger puppets. They’re probably all freaking out in their classrooms right now. I know most of them will be scared of the dark; I certainly was at that age. In fact, if you send a group down there to get them, I can go find a way to entertain them once we figure out the food and the medicine. I think that’s the most important thing, that and figuring out if our water fountains work and making them work if they don’t.” She bit her lip, trying to figure out if she had forgotten to say anything. “Oh, and flashlights. The computers will work for now but I’d feel a whole lot better if we had half a dozen flashlights or so. And so would the other students, I’m sure.” She looked to Jack for confirmation, hoping he wouldn't take her piles of suggestions the wrong way. She couldn't help that her mind was overactive, or that she tried to blurt out all those thoughts at once. "Sorry, Jack. I'm not trying to tell you what to do, I swear to God. I just... I think too much and if I don't say whatever I'm thinking I go mad trying to keep it all hushed." She rubbed her temples at the dull headache that formed like it always did when she thought too hard. | Name: Jack Smith
Age: 17
Year of Education: 11 (Junior Year)
Favourite Subject: Auto Shop, with the real-life aspects of Physics too
Personality (optional): Jack is a naturally charismatic guy who attracts attention from people whether he wants it or not. This means he has had to evolve into the defacto leader in many cases, and his voice is one that is widely listened to and respected among peers for his fairness. A kind kid who treats everyone with as much respect as they deserve, Jack is not one to shy away from dealing swift punishment to those who are cruel, and this is another reason that many of the younger or vulnerable students tend to recognise him as a friend and an ally, a notion Jack uses to his advantage for late assignments or difficult homework.
Background (optional): TBR
Significant Relationships: Since he was a child, he had been good friends with Robyn Capuche. They played together at school and sat together. One day, Robyn didn't show up for school. A week later she came back, a different girl. More secluded, quieter, less outgoing. Jack, being the chatty kid he was, took it upon himself to make her feel better. They bonded over her grief where she leaned on Jack for support, and he leaned on her because he had never had an honest, true friend. To this day they are inseparable. Always side-by-side, they ate lunch, hung out, grew up together.
Other: Jack is partially deaf and so wears a hearing aid. He also knows sign language which he uses when he does not have his aid with him. A member of the swim team who competed at national level. |
5,672 | 156 | 10 | 2,622 | 3,554 | The girl had pulled her hood back up over her head while the male yanked on another collar, a boy she recognized and knew fairly well from classes and lunch times that she hadn't spent locked away in the same music room she had been in this afternoon when everything that had happened today had actually happened. The hood hid her further in the shade as she stepped away, carefully hiding the small smile toward Cecil after he had been set down again. She had expected Jack to be giving orders as well though she had wanted to speak with him for a few moments before she would go off on her own again to find a place to whole up where she wouldn't be surrounded by the other students. Her dark eyes followed the swimmers movements as he turned between the three gathered around him, speaking while she and the others listened in near silence. He was brave to take charge, though she knew many wouldn't appreciate being told what to do by someone like him. Her gaze passed over them all again while she stepped away from the group, her back to them as she walked further down the hall, seemingly back the way she had come though she was simply allowing them the space that they required to do their own and work things out themselves.
Her footsteps were next to silent while she moved, wishing that she had worn her combat boots instead of her high tops, though she rather enjoyed the way the black she wore blended into darkness that had become their world. The light they made hurt her eyes after allowing them to adjust as much as they could to help her see in the dark as good as was possible for the human girl who spent her days avoiding the sunlight. When she stopped walking, her feet settled in place again while she turned around to watch them interacting again. People were something that she was never going to miss, the interactions with them had always left her feeling less than human herself and more of the beast that the voice always told her she was. She'd lifted her gaze again just in time to see the man nod to her, to say he had heard her speak though he didn't have time right then for the introvert to talk to him about what had happened and to see if she had heard or seen anything more than he had; understandable though she couldn't help hearing how his small friend had gone on rambling about medicine and helping any injured student though Vanessa herself wasn't a huge supporter of helping others like that. Solitary and away from the crowd was fine with her, though in the auditorium it would be difficult for her to concentrate on helping with the sheer amount of people around her that would stand or sit just without touching distance.
Just before the man looked away from her again she held up a hand - one of her flashlights in the other to illuminate, regardless of how much it hurt her eyes -, asking if they could talk later in sign language. It wasn't a secret that the boy was partially deaf and her cousin hadn't been able to hear since his ear drums were popped in a fight at school so she had had to learn it to be able to talk to him again; she silently wondered if he had 'vanished' as well, or if he was safe somewhere, holed up in his basement apartment. Her mouth was held in a soft line, neither a frown nor a smile as she stared, seeing if he had seen what she had attempted to say to him while the other girl finished speaking again. He would eventually run out of things to do at one point or another and Vanessa is generally a very patient girl unless it comes down to a new book coming out in one of her favourite series.
Afterward she had turned off the flashlight and tucked it into the satchel that still hung from one of her thin shoulders and shoved both of her hands back into her pockets, watching all of their movements intently as her eyes adjusted once again to the darkness around them, her pupils huge afterward so that she was able to see fairly well in the near total darkness, her dark grey eyes taking o a silver hue while she waited again for the end of the confrontation. males were always the first to fight she remembered, having watched them enough inside and outside of school, the fighting only getting worse in collage though sometime it was over a girls affection there.
'Monsters like the dark. Just like you~' The girl whirled around in the shadows, her eyes searching for the owner of the voice who had said this though she knew she wouldn't be able to see him at first, not until she was terrified of him would he show himself. Vanessa scanned the shadows once more, slowly searching for him before turning back around to face the others, standing nearly twenty feet from the group as they had begun to disperse on their own separate paths. Her eyes had gone to the girl, Aria, though just as her gaze settled on her an image flickered into her vision and she stumbled back a few steps as he settled in place again. His red eyes shone in the dark and Vanessa couldn't stop herself from staring as adrenaline started pumping through her and fear made her hands shake in her pockets.
"Go away James."
She whispered, fumbling in her satchel she pulled out a container of prescription drugs and dropped a few into one of her shaking hands. She took them dry and refused to look at the boy as he flickered out of being again, his voice echoing in her head. 'You know that won't happen Sweetheart.' Vanessa shook her head and looked at Aria, careful yo calm her breathing before taking any steps toward her and still only approaching enough for the girl to be able to see her while she held out one of her flashlights to her, a small and hesitant smile on her face though it was forced and unnatural after seeing the boy again. It had been a while and the book under her arm grounded her and helped her remember what reality was, though she hated not always knowing anything what was real or not whenever she looked at something.
"It's probably better than your phone." | Name: Cecil Ambrose
Age: 20
Appearance: Cecil is a broad youth, standing at six feet three inches with somewhat developed muscle and a large bone structure. He has tanned skin and thick black hair cut within an inch of his scalp. His eyes are a pale green, sharp in a perpetual frown. His nose is straight and slightly bold, and stubble often coats his jaw. He favours dark clothing, often wearing bluejeans with a black shirt and sports jacket and black runners.
Year of Education: 12
Favourite Subject: Physical Education
Personality: Cecil is first and foremost an isolated individual, unskilled and inexperienced with other people. As he grew into adulthood, his social fear diminished, leaving behind bluntness and stark disinterest. He is often numb to the energy around him, and strongly independent. Another side-effect of his introverted nature is his quick temper and violent anger, and he is prone to physically lashing out when in distress. Usually only inanimate objects are targeted by this habit, but it can stem to other people in the worst of times. In the best of times Cecil is a clear-headed and thoughtful individual, quick-learning and wilful with strong coordination and problem-solving capabilities.
Background: Cecil grew up in a relatively untroubled family, though his livid outbursts quickly made others wary of him. He never had an easy time in school, and at a young age was often the target of aggression from his classmates. In his 10th year, Cecil altogether ejected himself from the school system, finding seclusion in his bedroom deeply more comfortable. He returned to school after accepting it as a hurdle he needed to overcome, joining a local highschool in a special degree that permitted him to attend until turning 21.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters: Casual friends with Vanessa, who he knows as a fellow introvert and someone he can find to pass the time or enjoy unconditional companionship. |
5,673 | 156 | 11 | 133 | 87 | After Valerie had offered to help, the kid who'd originally suggested to find light, had snapped something at the younger girl, who was clearly in the middle of some kind of internal turmoil following the shriek - or whatever that horrific noise was. She felt a prickle of sympathy. This freak event was clearly affecting some people more than others (whether that fear and confusion was manifesting obviously, or as anger) and she, herself, allowed herself to bask in a few seconds of relief that it had not penetrated her sanity yet. She still felt reasonably calm and collected. Though chillingly, it seemed it was only a matter of time. When she glanced down at her white hands, she saw they were trembling.
When Jack - who somehow appeared to have the title leader thrust upon him and had accepted it, with a maturity that surpassed many of the idiots at this school - spoke up and addressed her, she jumped a little, skittering on the cheap lino of the corridors. It seemed odd to hear her name in the foreign new world that had formed less than half an hour ago, full of the terrifying and downright bizarre. She blinked, regarding him with her attention as she edged forward slightly to hear what he was saying. Kids shuffled across to allow her forward.
"Hi Val, thanks, but we have a plan first. I don't know what the state of the electric grid is like for the school so I don't want anyone touching it yet. Could crisp you up," he replied to her statement and she grimaced at the visual image, realising he was probably right. Whilst this new, shadowy, teacherless environment was unappealing, death by electrocution was even less so. For now, at least. She ran a nervous, trembling hand through her hair, as the dangers of this unknown environment seemed to hit her like she'd been dowsed in ice water. She recoiled slightly, visibly.
"You can however go and see if there is a disconnected generator and some heavy duty lights. Come find me as soon as you get back, I want to make sure everyone is safe. Take this fucker with you," Jack said and Val's eyes widened to saucer-like proportions as she realised she was being actually tasked to do something that was vaguely necessary. She was the background type - people didn't usually trust her with things, not even the teachers, and the feeling of responsibility made her both nervous and excited she could finally do something useful. Gulping, she nodded eagerly and glanced across at the aforementioned boy, opening her mouth to introduce herself (she didn't remember him from any of her classes). Before she could say anything, Jack had already stepped forward and yanked the kid in a startlingly quick motion that caused Valerie to totter back slightly, not wanting to get caught up in anything violent.
"You speak to her with respect, dipshit," he spat, referring to the sweet-looking girl the kid had snapped at and when she caught snippets of the rest of what he was saying; Jack, ordering the other kid to listen to Val's, her, instructions - her, of all people! - she nearly blurted her surprise out loud, but managed to swallow back whatever sentiment she'd been about to voice at the last moment. She opened and closed her mouth twice, as complaints and doubts surged through her thoughts but eventually, they sank back into the depths of her mind as she realised it was more important to stay focused, at the present. Disconnected generator, map of the school it was, she thought determinedly and forced herself to step forward again, her phone still lighting her immediate aura and offered a smile to the guy when Jack released him.
"Guess we'd better get going, before the banshee - or whatever - strikes again, and so we can regroup in the auditorium. I'm Val, by the way" she said, trying to project a calm, collected image but her tone still wavered slightly. She nodded down the corridor in the direction that looked the most promising, as a bearing for their course of action | -- |
5,674 | 156 | 12 | 2,097 | 1,847 | She heard the screams long before she saw the children running down the hallway. She turned to see a horde of the young children sprinting toward her, much older teens at their head. They get all of the younger children into the auditorium first. "What happened? What's going on?" No one would answer her. They all panicked into the auditorium. Finally, getting frustrated with the lack of an answer, she grabbed the last oldest teen out of the line and spun him toward her. She glared at him furiously and said slowly, "What in the hell just happened?"
"M-monsters. Demons. Something outside the window. Jack. Jack was there!" The student's rambling made no sense, but Robyn caught the words monster and Jack and that was all she needed to hear. She grabbed the kid by his collar and yanked him toward her, her dark eyes becoming wide and scary.
"Pull your fucking self together, dude," she growled at him in a low tone. Immediately, his sad whimpering stopped. "I need you to get in there and take care of those kids. Once we figure out what the hell is going on, then you will be the first to know. Now, pull yourself together and try not to freak the other children out. Calm them down. I'm going to go find Jack." He nodded slowly, his eyes still a little red from unshed tears of terror, but she didn't care. She needed to find her friend. She shoved him into the auditorium and propped the door open, looking around. She retraced in her mind where those children had come from and took off in that direction.
She knew that she shouldn't have left the teens alone in the auditorium, but she needed to find Jack. If something happened to him, she would only blame herself because she wasn't with him. She walked down the hallway, holding up her phone for light. She took a left turn and started walking down that hallway. Everything was deathly quiet. She couldn't even hear the students anymore. She walked a little further until suddenly, her phone light flickered and went out, plunging her into deep darkness. She scowled at her phone, hitting it on the side of her palm. The light flickered for a moment before her phone died completely.
"Well, shit," she swore under her breath, looking around for a form of light source. She couldn't see anything. She sighed and began walking again, holding out her hands in front of her. She felt around for a locker or a wall so she could figure out where she was. Her fingers tips just barely brushed over a wall when suddenly she felt cold. Very cold. A chill ran down her spine and suddenly, in the darkness, she could see her white breath in front of her. Why did it get so cold suddenly?
They didn't have to die, you know, a murmur told her. It was a fading whisper, as if someone was brushing passed her and continued walking. She shivered as she felt another chill run down her spine. You could have saved them, but no. You decided to be selfish and have fun instead. You could've caught their killer.
"W-what?" Robyn stuttered out, whipping around. She swallowed hard, trying to hold back her panic and fear. She took a deep breath and narrowed her eyes. "Who are you?"
A deep chuckle echoed through the hallway and she whipped around, looking for the source. You don't remember me? Ah, such a shame, one so young had to live this long. There was another chuckle and Robyn spun around again. Panic rose in her chest and clogged her throat. She wished she had some form of weapon. That would make her feel so much better.
"Where the fuck are you?!" she screamed at the darkness.
I am always with you, Robyn. Come on, you remember me. The smooth deep bass voice echoed down the hallway. I remember it all. The rush of blood as it poured out onto the ground. The satisfying crack of your mother's skull. Ripping your father's head almost off his body with just my bare teeth. The voice sounded almost gleeful. Robyn felt sick to her stomach, realization dawning on her on who this is.
"You're him," she murmured, her ponytail whipping across her face as she looked for this man. "You're the man who killed my parents."
"Ding ding ding! We've got a winner," a now solidified voice said from behind her. She turned around quickly and saw a young man standing behind her. He looked... normal. He had short brown hair and darkened blue eyes. He smiled kindly at her, but behind the smile, she saw malice and disgusting lust for blood. He began walking toward her and she backed up rapidly. "Oh, come now, Robyn. You don't remember me. Close your eyes and think hard now." He talked to her like she was still a young child. That voice... How he talked sounded familiar.
"Come on now, Robyn," one of the police officers said, his cap pulled low over his face. "I need you to tell me if you saw anything sweetie. Maybe a man?"
She had shaken her head. "No, I didn't see anyone." She noticed him smile, but hadn't thought of it at the time.
Her head flew up and she stared at him. Sure enough, her mind put him in a uniform. He was the exact same guy. "You were the police officer who took my statement!" He laughed loudly. "But you can't be here! How are you--" Suddenly, she saw a light flare up in the distance. She squinted at it and noticed it was toward the end of the hallway. She whipped around to look for the man, but he was gone. There was no trace of him ever being there. She looked around for a good five minutes, hoping to find him, but he wasn't there.
Maybe it was my imagination she thought to herself, tapping her phone to see if she could get it to turn on. It did and it once again lit up the hallway. But it felt so real. How is that possible? Shaking her head, she began walking again. She managed to make it down the hallway and into another hallway where she saw Jack making his way back to the auditorium. "Jack!" she yelled and ran after him. She slid to a stop next to him and grabbed his arm. "Some of the other students told me about those... things. Are you alright?" She looked at him worriedly, but she couldn't help the cold tingle that ran down her back after seeing her parents' killer. | Name:
Robyn Capuche
Age:
16
Appearance (real images only):
Year of Education:
11th (Junior Year)
Favourite Subject:
Gym
Personality (optional):
Robyn, on the outside, seems to be the perfect girl. She is extremely nice, sweet, and caring. She does not seem to hurt a fly and is nice to anyone who talks to her. She is smart and outgoing, an extrovert more than an introvert. She’s not afraid to meet new people or try new things and she always stands up for what she feels is right. She could be classified as more of a nerdy girl, considering the fact that she plays video games and studies a lot more than she should.
Background (optional):
Robyn’s childhood was typical. She grew up with upper middle class parents and her childhood was normal. She loved her parents and, being an only child, she had all of their love as well. That all changed when they went camping. There had been reports of someone breaking out of an insane asylum nearby and people were warned to stay in their houses, but her parents didn’t listen. She was out swimming in the lake when she heard screams coming from her campsite. She ran back immediately and saw that her parents had been brutally murdered. The man, the insane one, was nowhere to be found though, and she was left without parents. She was only eight at the time.
She went to live with her grandmother uptown, but she kept having nightmares about that night. Finally, she was walking down the street to her middle school when she saw a combat school. She thought it looked interesting and immediately begged her grandmother to let her enroll for the summer. She did, and Robyn learned more about fighting in one summer than most army soldiers do in a whole year. She only did it for that summer, but she mastered archery and some hand to hand fighting styles. Though she still holds the sweet persona, she is, technically, a badass when it comes to fighting.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters:
Jack Smith- Her and Jack have been friends ever since they were really little. They used to play together all the time after they met in their first grade class. She had to borrow a green crayon from him and ever since, they have been friends. They weren't always the friends who would hang out almost every day. But after her parents' murder, they seemed to hang out all the time and have become almost inseparable. They always eat together at lunch and can always been seen talking to each other or walking with each other around the school. Jack is one of her only solid friends.
Other:
I dare you to look up what Capuche means in French. xD Also, she loves the color green and though her parents were murdered in the woods, she still loves to go camping. |
5,675 | 156 | 13 | 2,097 | 1,847 | ((Weird double post thing that happened... I have no idea what happened. Ignore this.)) | Name:
Robyn Capuche
Age:
16
Appearance (real images only):
Year of Education:
11th (Junior Year)
Favourite Subject:
Gym
Personality (optional):
Robyn, on the outside, seems to be the perfect girl. She is extremely nice, sweet, and caring. She does not seem to hurt a fly and is nice to anyone who talks to her. She is smart and outgoing, an extrovert more than an introvert. She’s not afraid to meet new people or try new things and she always stands up for what she feels is right. She could be classified as more of a nerdy girl, considering the fact that she plays video games and studies a lot more than she should.
Background (optional):
Robyn’s childhood was typical. She grew up with upper middle class parents and her childhood was normal. She loved her parents and, being an only child, she had all of their love as well. That all changed when they went camping. There had been reports of someone breaking out of an insane asylum nearby and people were warned to stay in their houses, but her parents didn’t listen. She was out swimming in the lake when she heard screams coming from her campsite. She ran back immediately and saw that her parents had been brutally murdered. The man, the insane one, was nowhere to be found though, and she was left without parents. She was only eight at the time.
She went to live with her grandmother uptown, but she kept having nightmares about that night. Finally, she was walking down the street to her middle school when she saw a combat school. She thought it looked interesting and immediately begged her grandmother to let her enroll for the summer. She did, and Robyn learned more about fighting in one summer than most army soldiers do in a whole year. She only did it for that summer, but she mastered archery and some hand to hand fighting styles. Though she still holds the sweet persona, she is, technically, a badass when it comes to fighting.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters:
Jack Smith- Her and Jack have been friends ever since they were really little. They used to play together all the time after they met in their first grade class. She had to borrow a green crayon from him and ever since, they have been friends. They weren't always the friends who would hang out almost every day. But after her parents' murder, they seemed to hang out all the time and have become almost inseparable. They always eat together at lunch and can always been seen talking to each other or walking with each other around the school. Jack is one of her only solid friends.
Other:
I dare you to look up what Capuche means in French. xD Also, she loves the color green and though her parents were murdered in the woods, she still loves to go camping. |
5,676 | 156 | 14 | 945 | 230 | Jack turned and stalked away, and Cecil let out a laugh. A loud laugh, filling the halls and drowning out all other noise, it held both anger and mockery. It followed Jack down the hall before dispersing into echoes, fading into the dark. Jacky-boy, Cecil thought. You're lucky I don't hit children.
Cecil realized a newcomer was speaking to him. He thought she seemed embarrassed at having witnessed the display of male ego, and he felt himself sharing the feeling. Despite her apparent age - at least a couple years younger than him - she made him feel like a child whining in petty argument. Cecil let her finish and began to walk in tandem with her as they made their way down the indicated hall.
"I'm Val, by the way," she said with a pleasant smile.
"Cecil," he returned, unable to meet her eyes. "Uh, I'm sorry you had to see that." Cecil looked up, frustrated thoughts still swirling in his head. "That kid is a dictator. Someone should tell him he needs to listen to other people before we wind up with a real problem. There is a line between tyranny and leadership, and he doesn't see it. Anyway, there aren't any ranks right now, so I'll listen to you if you listen to me. Deal?" Cecil held out a large hand to shake, doing his best to make eye contact with Val. | Name: Braden Welles
Age: 18
Appearance (real images only):
Year of Education: (12th Grade) Senior
Favourite Subject: Auto Shop, and followed closely by history
Personality (optional): Stern and quick to take charge when things go wrong. Has a bit of sarcasm everyone now and then. Not the most outgoing, but not a complete introvert either.
Background (optional): Common knowledge: Born and raised on the outskirts of the city, working in his father's autoshop as he grew older. Father died while serving a tour of duty with the National Guard. Mother works as the accountant and secretary of the shop, doing all the paperwork and such.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters: Everyone knows him as a good guy, but nothing serious atm.
Other: He wears his father's dogtags around his neck with an added cross on the chain. |
5,677 | 156 | 15 | 1,555 | 729 | Just another day, that's what it was supposed to be. Another day of listening to a teacher ramble on in what amounted to gibberish for her and then waiting for her friend Hana to relay what was being said. It was a rough process and much of what was being said was clearly being lost in the translation. It was hard enough being the only Japanese girl in school. Sometimes in the hall between classes she could hear other students talking about her, not that she knew what they were saying but she recognised when some of them would say "Japanese girl" and she knew that meant her. It was impossible for her to know what they were saying and most conversations ended with both parties being confused and more than a little bit frustrated. The only person she could really rely on was Hana. They had only known each other for a few weeks but her help was invaluable. Many westerners were tall and Hana was no exception standing at 5'8" with long blonde hair and a body like a swimsuit model. Maki felt rather meek in comparison despite being physically fit she felt that she lacked some of the features that really made western women 'sexy'. Despite her looks and glamour Hana was a genuinely caring and bubbly person who would give her last pound to a stranger if they needed it more than she did.
Just another day with her friend. That was the thought that crossed her mind just before it happened. Everything went dark and she wasn't sure but she could have sworn that the teacher vanished right before her eyes. Maki, unsure of what to do, looked to Hana for help. ((Is this some kind of drill?)) She asked, knowing the answer. ((No. This is something else.)) The other students started talking as well but she couldn't pick out anything sensible from them. One thing she did understand was the tone of panic building in everyone's voice, which only made her more afraid of whatever was happening. She jumped at a hand being placed on her shoulder. ((Maki, it's me. Let's go see if we can find some other staff members.)) Maki nodded in response and immediately realised that if she couldn't make out Hana's face than Hana couldn't make out hers. ((Okay.))
After Hana spoke to some of the other students, who all seemed just as afraid as she was, they headed out into the corridor. Everything had fallen to darkness and they had only their phones to light the halls that now seemed to ooze a certain ominous atmosphere. Hana was exceptionally quiet as they inched their way down the halls, she was typically the loudest person in the room. This only served to make Maki more nervous. Students from other classes seemed as lost as they were so Hana led them towards the prinicipals office, if anyone knew what was going on it would be him. They reached the stairs and suddenly a demonic shriek rang out. Maki's heart skipped a beat and she jumped into Hana's arms like a fightened child. Hana, who seemed much more collected about the whole situation, turned off both of their phones and moved to the wall making them as small a target as possible should anything come roaming the hall. They stayed there for a moment and waited to see, or hear, if anything was close to them. Maki whispered as softly as she could. ((What was that sound?)) Hana was as lost for an explanation as Maki. ((I don't Know. Let's just keep moving.)) Maki didn't resist as Hana led the way. Here she was in a strange country with strange happenings all around. Who else could she rely on but the only person that could even understand what she was saying?
They finally made it to the principals office a short while later. Thankfully nothing else of note had happened. Hana didn't bother to knock as she entered the office. It had two parts to it. The first part of the office was clearly meant for the secretary although she was also nowhere to be found. There was no sign of any struggle or things being packed. It was as if she had simply vanished into thin air. Did that mean that she really did see her teacher vanish as well? Hana shined the light around and scanned the desk as if she was looking for something in particular. Neither of them found anything out of the ordinary. Forms and paperwork were left out on the secretary's desk. Hana picked one up and inspected it carefully. ((She didn't even finish filling out this form...)) Maki took a look as well, even with her poor knowledge of the english language she could tell that the pen stopped mid-stride. The circumstances only continued to become stranger and stranger. Hana opened the door to the Principal's main office and again no one was there. Had the entire staff gone missing? They looked around the office for clues. Maki felt especially useless since she couldn't read anything. She heard Hana talking to herself in English for a moment. ((Did you find something?)) Maki asked. ((No, I just thought it was strange that the Principal left his window open.)) Maki heard what she assumed was Hana closing the window and then coughing. Maki, concerned for her friend, walked over to her. ((Are you alright?))
Hana continued to cough for a moment then suddenly stood up straight. Maki let out a sigh of relief that the coughing stopped then Hana spoke up this time her voice was flat. ((You know what? I've just realised something; they're both right.)) Maki was confused. ((Who's right? About what?)) Hana wasn't making any sense but she continued to speak. ((You're just a spoiled little rice queen and I don't feel like babysitting you anymore...)) Where was this coming from? ((...All you do is latch on to me all day and berate me with stupid questions...)) Hana placed her hands on Maki's face. Maki was unsure of what to do and froze in place. ((...You don't belong in this country, you don't belong at this school, and you sure as hell don't belong in my house!))
Hana suddenly moved her hands down to Maki's throat and pushed her back against a cabinet with glass doors. The pressure was so great that Maki couldn't breathe. Behind her she could hear the glass giving way. Maki tried to release herself by striking Hana's elbows but she was already getting weak. Then the glass finally gave way and shattered. Shards of glass fell around her and she could feel some of them cutting into her. At this point Hana was hysterical and shouting things in English that she didn't understand. Desperately, Maki flailed around for anything to help her get out of this situation. Her hand landed on something heavy and solid. She grabbed hold and swung with everything she had landing sqaurely on Hana's head.
Finally, she was released from Hana's iron grip as she fell off of Maki, now gasping desperately for air. Hana started speaking again, more frantic than before. Maki tried to stand up but Hana was already back on top of her. This time Maki was able to catch Hana's arm and put her into an armbar. ((If you don't stop I'll... I'll break it!)) Hana thrashed about furiously, Maki couldn't believe what was happening. ((PLEASE STOP!)) Maki increased the pressure until she heard definitive cracking sounds as Hana cried out. Even after that she still didn't stop, Hana struggled to get up and tried once again to attack. Maki grabbed the object she used before and swung again. Hana landed on top of her with all of her weight, then nothing. The air grew still once again and she could feel a warm liquid running down her chest. The tears started to flow awnd Maki didn't know what to do. ((I'm sorry. Why didn't you stop? I'm so sorry.)) Maki pulled herself out from under Hana's body and sat up against a filing cabinet. What was going on? Why did she lash out like that? What was going on? She couldn't stand to stay in that room any longer so she stumbled out into the hall, every step she took made a resounding squish. She knew what it was but thinking about it mad her feel like she was going to puke. Instead she curled up against the far wall adjacent to the Principals office and let the tear flow. | Fujita Maki/17
Year of Education:
11th Grade
Favourite Subjects:
Home Economics & Physical Education
Personality (optional):
TBR
Background (optional):
(Instead of a long recounting of her childhood I'll put some information that other students might know so everyone else can use it as a referrence later.) Maki is a Japanese foreign exchange student. She lives with a home-stay family close to the school. The home-stay family's daughter is Hana, who acts as her translator most of the time. Maki has been a student in this country for only a month. Her english consists of very few words. She always brings lunch for her and Hana. Maki generally keeps to herself but always seems friendly when you approach her. Maki also has an app on her phone that translates japanese text to english speech although it doesn't account for grammar and can be difficult to understand.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters:
Other than Hana (her roommate and translator) she finds it difficult to really connect with anyone due to the language barrier, cultural differences, etc.
Other:
Her favorite color is green. She stands at five feet tall. Trained in Aikido for self-defence and recieved her black belt just before leaving Japan. Practiced Kendo at her uncle's dojo. |
5,678 | 156 | 16 | 2,622 | 3,554 | Aria took the flashlight with a hesitant smile of her own. “Thank you. I don’t like the dark…” She whispered. As they walked through the halls she shined her flashlight everywhere, taking in the thick layer of dust that coated everything. “It wasn’t this dusty this morning, was it?” she asked Vanessa, carefully placing her feet lest her shoes skid out from under her. The sandals she wore were highly impractical. She cursed herself for having dressed up today, but then, she rather enjoyed dressing up and hadn’t had an excuse to for a while.
As they got to the front office, Aria felt like something was wrong. She shined her flashlight around the hall to see a girl curled up in a ball crying and… bleeding?
Aria dropped the flashlight, which made it turn off, and instantly lunged for it, seizing it in a death-grip and flipping it back on with trembling fingers. “Oh, my god…” she muttered. Walking closer to the girl, she shined her flashlight on the ground next to her. “Hey, are you alright?” she asked, kneeling down in the dust a couple feet away from the crying girl. “Let’s see where you’re bleeding from, okay?” The girl’s clothes were dark with blood… Hopefully it wasn’t all her own. “Hey, you’ll be okay.” And then she took a second look at the girl’s face and realized who it was. Maki, the girl from Japan, a celebrity, of sorts, unique in even such a big school as this one. Everyone knew she didn’t speak English all that well. Aria slowed her speech down, using simpler words to try to help the older girl understand. She cursed herself again, for not bothering to learn any useful language. “My… name… is… Aria. You…. Are…. Maki? I… Will… help… you.” She reached for Maki’s hands, intending to examine her for where she was bleeding from. She looked over her shoulder at Vanessa. “Vanessa, I think you’ve got better experience at bandaging people than I do.” | Name: Cecil Ambrose
Age: 20
Appearance: Cecil is a broad youth, standing at six feet three inches with somewhat developed muscle and a large bone structure. He has tanned skin and thick black hair cut within an inch of his scalp. His eyes are a pale green, sharp in a perpetual frown. His nose is straight and slightly bold, and stubble often coats his jaw. He favours dark clothing, often wearing bluejeans with a black shirt and sports jacket and black runners.
Year of Education: 12
Favourite Subject: Physical Education
Personality: Cecil is first and foremost an isolated individual, unskilled and inexperienced with other people. As he grew into adulthood, his social fear diminished, leaving behind bluntness and stark disinterest. He is often numb to the energy around him, and strongly independent. Another side-effect of his introverted nature is his quick temper and violent anger, and he is prone to physically lashing out when in distress. Usually only inanimate objects are targeted by this habit, but it can stem to other people in the worst of times. In the best of times Cecil is a clear-headed and thoughtful individual, quick-learning and wilful with strong coordination and problem-solving capabilities.
Background: Cecil grew up in a relatively untroubled family, though his livid outbursts quickly made others wary of him. He never had an easy time in school, and at a young age was often the target of aggression from his classmates. In his 10th year, Cecil altogether ejected himself from the school system, finding seclusion in his bedroom deeply more comfortable. He returned to school after accepting it as a hurdle he needed to overcome, joining a local highschool in a special degree that permitted him to attend until turning 21.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters: Casual friends with Vanessa, who he knows as a fellow introvert and someone he can find to pass the time or enjoy unconditional companionship. |
5,679 | 156 | 17 | 133 | 87 | Cecil, the boy returned as Val introduced herself and she realised, with a tinge of amusement that he was avoiding her eye, "Uh, I'm sorry you had to see that." Rather than say anything, she simply shrugged, in a nonchalant gesture.
"That kid is a dictator. Someone should tell him he needs to listen to other people before we wind up with a real problem. There is a line between tyranny and leadership, and he doesn't see it. Anyway, there aren't any ranks right now, so I'll listen to you if you listen to me. Deal?"
And as he spoke, Valerie nearly burst out laughing.
"Don't worry," she reassured him, with a grin, using this as an excuse to push away the nerves that had been dancing at the forefront of her mind ever since the lights had blacked out and the freaky events had started happening "I wasn't planning on bossing you about. You seem okay - if a little intimidating -" she murmured the last phrase more to herself than the him but her smile didn't falter "but I just want to get on with the job at hand, with as little fuss as possible. So mutual respect sounds great. And, yeah....nice to meet you."
She ignored the chill that had snaked its way down her spine, when he mentioned that there wasn't ranks...right now. It was a point - how long would this weirdness last?
She shook his outstretched hand, anxiously as she kept pace with him walking down the corridor; the darkness was still relentless and it felt odd to see somewhere - typically, glaring under fluorescent lighting and sprawling with students - so familiar in such an unbelievable, eerie situation. She was tense, on edge, anticipating another banshee wailing or another explosion at every second that ticked by and the fact that it remained as silent as the grave was quite frankly unnerving. When she reached the end, she picked a random direction and tried to look like she knew what she was doing by not hesitating, as she swivelled on her heel to walk right. She had vague image of layout of the school shimmering in her memories and she figured that the boiler and stores in the basement might be the most promising option to finding something that could be useful.
“There’s some freaky stuff going on - I wonder if it's just here...” she commented as she continued to squint through the darkness that still felt as thick and threatening as ever. Her phone battery was draining fast and she hoped it would hold up for a little while longer; at least until an external light source was discovered, "And I'm guessing we should try the lower levels - what do you think?"
She rubbed her forehead as a headache threatened at her temples. She pegged it down to stress and confusion, and massaged her temples as she walked, keeping a wary eye on the other guy. | -- |
5,680 | 156 | 18 | 133 | 87 | Cecil stumbled and swayed with Val's tight turns, tripping over his feet trying to stay at her side. He was too occupied fighting sullenness in the new human connection he was making - a craft he was never skilled in - to even consider what their next move was, until Val spoke again.
"And I'm guessing we should try the lower levels," she finished, trying to find something in the abounding shadow. "What do you think?"
Cecil stopped, prompting Val to turn and face him. "It's probably locked. Custodian's office might have the keys, if it's not locked as well." He put his hand under his chin and frowned in thought. He remembered passing the custodian's office many times. The door was wood, shoddy-looking, and always rattled, not like the heavy steel basement door near the first-floor bathrooms. "Nevermind. We can probably kick it down, if we need." Cecil looked up at Val and chuckled before he could help himself. "Don't worry. I'll take the fall for that if we get in shit, I don't care."
Turning back to the hallway before them, he tried to determine where they were in the campus. He decided that they were lucky enough to be on the right path, and walked ahead, watching for any landmarks he could identify that told them they were near the custodian's office in the glow of Val's phone. | -- |
5,681 | 156 | 19 | 2,441 | 646 | Something landed on Jack's arm. He tried to flick his limb and get it to leave but it stayed. It was heavy too. He moved his arm again, but this time it shook back. These fucking pests. Just everywhere. He slapped the thing. It felt like him. Rubbery, oily. Skinny. He looked at his arm. A hand. Arm. Robyn's arm. Words began forming as they bounced around his ear canal. "Huh? Yeah, no, I'm fine. How are you? I just saw your mother back there, in the window," Jack said, sniggering and then howling with laughter. And then he was clear again. "Oh my God, what did I just say?" Jack could hear the excessively loud noise coming from the auditorium. He hadn't just made a joke about his best friends dead parents, had he? He had. "No, no, no no no nononononono Robyn, I... I don't know what that was, I... that wasn't me..." Jack stammered. What do you say after laughing about your friends murdered family? You don't say anything. There's not much to say but stammer your apology out. He stared at Robyn. His eyes glazed over and he couldn't tell what was on her face. Disgust, sadness, shame, anger, humiliation. All of them.
A Southern drawl woke him from his stupor. He looked out of the windows at the halo of light then back at the girl. Then back at the halo of light. Jack opened the door for Braden. Braden was a Grease Monkey that Jack had always gotten along well with. A technical minded guy who enjoyed the simple task of taking things apart and putting it back together, better. Something Jack could appreciate. Robyn had stepped further away from him, enough so that it was noticeable there was some discord among the two who were normally joined at the hip. "Things are, well, happening. I guess that's the only way to put it at the moment. Things are happening," Jack said, a weary tone in his voice. This day had gone down quickly. Today wasn't good. Today was, by all accounts, pretty bad.
As Jack looked around the auditorium he couldn't see Aria. She must still be doing whatever she was doing. Vanessa too. She wanted to talk to me. Jack stepped over to the front of the seats where a boy was trying desperately to settle people down. Jack patted him on the shoulder. "Thanks bud, I'll take over from here," he said. The kid scampered away gratefully. Jack stood in front of the mass of excited kids. They kept yammering. Jack slumped his shoulders and leaned on the back of a chair, arms crossed. His eyes drooped. And then it was suddenly quiet. Jack saw that the class leaders were living up to their roles. They found their defacto leader had taken the stage and that now was a pretty good time to get the low-down. Boy, was Jack going to ruin their day even more. He pushed himself off the chair and let his hands hang at his sides. “First of all, glad you could make it. Everyone besides a handful I have sanctioned are here in this hall. Think of this as a roll call, essentially. Now as you may have realised, a few things have gone amiss as of late,” Jack said. The audience stayed quiet. Wow. Tough crowd. “Firstly, there has been some... celestial miscalculation?” Jack said, looking at the Nerds. They cautiously looked at each other before one of them - Ro was his name, Jack thought - shrugged his shoulders and nodded. Close enough. "This 'miscalculation' has resulted in a total solar eclipse that has somehow caused a boat load of unhealthy things to happen. That being, primarily, that all the teachers, and possibly some students have disappeared. My guess is that they were watching the eclipse and poof, gone. Don't know why, so don't ask. It is also pitch black. This auditorium is being lit up by your mobile phones currently, a highly finite resource if ever there was one. They don't have very good battery life in most cases, so quite soon we may be going back to the dark unless we find some alternatives." The students were not happy by this news, and shouts started to break out from the crowds. Something was thrown as it landed with a thump and then a splatter a few feet away, but it was too dark to see what it was and the trajectory it took.
"Secondly, some of us were heavily affected by a shriek heard earlier. In my case, it psychologically and emotionally ruined me for a few minutes. I have no idea if the same effect will happen again, but I do, unfortunately, know what caused it. As do just under 4000 of us here," Jack said, his steely voice echoing through the now silent chamber. Something in his speech caught their attention anyway. "When collecting the remaining students, we passed by a window and found the source of the cry. It was definitely a... creature thing of some sort. Two legs, human-ish face, no eyes, big fat lumps on its back. It looked very dead to me. I do not know if they are, I do not know what they are, I do not know what they are capable of. My best advice at this moment would be to not fucking antagonise them," Jack spat the last three words out. Students squirmed in their chairs. The headteacher never gave these kinds of speeches. "They may be able to smash windows or break down doors or even get through walls. This school was built to withstand war, but I don't know the situation we're in right now. We could be at war and those are the resultant victims of a nuclear attack, or this could be something else entirely. We do not know." Soft weeping came from somewhere in the room. The fact that this wasn't a bad dream and that something very real had happened was forcing its way into the brains of everyone, like a vicious worm burrowing into the depths of your mind. None were too amused that there were no answers to be found. "And to pile onto our news already, I have had a glimpse of the outside. There's a thick grey shroud hanging out there. Very dense. Maximum viewing distance is maybe four feet, possibly closer to three-and-a-bit. Not sure how infrared fares with it though," Jack said. Most of the people sitting in the room were booing or crying now. Their reactions did not help the situation. "Just because we do not know what is going on does not mean we aren't going to find out. We have possibilities. We have routes to travel. We have scientific leads that can divulge information. We have some of the best kids in the country in this school, that's why we have the school capable of withstanding anything bar an asteroid, and fewer other do. We are valuable. We have the ability to figure out what is happening and to sort it out. I don't want to sound dramatic, but we may be alone."
"However, we need structure. No, not goddamn school again," Jack retorted to a call from the dark asking if school would be starting up again. Jack thought for a moment, recalling all the pop culture he had consumed over the years and tried to find a perfect analogy. He was stuck between a choice of Dawn of the Dead and The Walking Dead, neither particularly stellar examples. Maybe too fittingly, Metro 2033 came to mind. So settling for something less detrimental to the overall well-being of the students psyche, he settled on The Maze Runner. "Has everyone read or seen The Maze Runner? Or know what it's about? Well in the book, they don't know where they are or what they're supposed to do, but they manage to pull their resources and skills together to create a community that works. And that's what we need to do. We need to create a community. One that runs efficiently, can handle breakdowns, can hold the weight of 5000 of us. So from now on, I'll be setting some standard rules. One's that keep you alive."
"Number One: You never put a fellow student in danger.
Number Two: You don't mess with what you don't know.
Number Three: You don't go outside unless we're prepared for it.
Number Four: You don't mess with those things out there.
Number Five: You do your job, and you do your job to the utmost standard."
"I also want to start building our community together, effective immediately. Grease Monkeys, meet me down here. Any scientists who do not already have a position elsewhere meet me down here and split up into your respective fields; Physics, Chemistry, Biology. Mathematics, come down here and put yourself with the Physicists. Everyone else, find Robyn Capuche at the entrance and once I'm finished discussing here I can talk you through what's going on," Jack said. The students then got up and did what they had to, quietly, quickly, and orderly. Why did the principle have so much getting us to do that? It's not like I'm that much of a smooth-talker, but damn, they're actually doing it. As the students swarmed and dissipated among the various masses, he watched as his groups formed before him. "Alright, welcome guys. Here's what's going to happen."
"Firstly; Biology, Chemistry, and Physics students will all combine to form one group. I'm gonna call you guys the Nerds because I always have. Sue me for laziness, I don't care. You're main goal is to figure out what is going on. Take what you want, take what you need. You have direct access to the supplies. But firstly, lights. Here's where you come in my Monkeys. Monkeys and Physics Nerds are going to go down to the basement and have a look at the grid. Scope it out and fix what went wrong. Lights are now our number one priority. Phones only last so long, and once it goes dark things are going to get intense and scary," Jack said. He swung his flashlight over the crowd and saw Braden in there. "Braden, when you're done there come find me, I want your help in rigging something up if we're going to go outside," Jack ordered. He walked past Braden and out a hand on his shoulder. He leaned in close to the Southern boys ear. "It's good to have someone sane here. People are going to shit real fast. You notice anything, you let me know," Jack said softly. He walked through the throng of people and headed towards the enormous group from where Robyn's voice echoed.
Jack pushed his way through the crowd until he reached the centre. "If you're standing here, it's because your prime subject isn't science, mathematics, or auto shop. And that's fine. We have a place to build and support here. You won't be wasted. I don't know what Robyn's just told you," Jack said, nodding towards the pretty girl standing beside him, "but we will be living here. A good friend of mine suggested re purposing the gym halls, which I think is a mighty fine idea. So I'm gonna leave you in the capable hands of Robyn, and she'll get you guys sorted out." Jack gently took a hold of Robyn's arm as she made her way to leave. He couldn't see her face in the gooey black, but as Jack moved closer the light from his mobile illuminated her face. "Look, Robyn, I really am sorry. I really really am. I don't know what it was, but I wasn't thinking straight. Everything was fuzzy, like it was a dream, like I wasn't awake. It's the shock and exhaustion," Jack explained despite him not agreeing with his answer. He didn't think it was entirely the shock and exhaustion, but he felt like he wasn't the same after the encounters with the monstrosities outside. He didn't feel himself. He didn't feel like helping a crying kid. He didn't care if that loner in the corner would be a loner forever, dying in their one-bedroom flat at 46 with no-one to cry at their funeral. Jack didn't feel like Jack, Jack felt like a badly recreated copy of himself that got bashed up in production. | Name: Jack Smith
Age: 17
Year of Education: 11 (Junior Year)
Favourite Subject: Auto Shop, with the real-life aspects of Physics too
Personality (optional): Jack is a naturally charismatic guy who attracts attention from people whether he wants it or not. This means he has had to evolve into the defacto leader in many cases, and his voice is one that is widely listened to and respected among peers for his fairness. A kind kid who treats everyone with as much respect as they deserve, Jack is not one to shy away from dealing swift punishment to those who are cruel, and this is another reason that many of the younger or vulnerable students tend to recognise him as a friend and an ally, a notion Jack uses to his advantage for late assignments or difficult homework.
Background (optional): TBR
Significant Relationships: Since he was a child, he had been good friends with Robyn Capuche. They played together at school and sat together. One day, Robyn didn't show up for school. A week later she came back, a different girl. More secluded, quieter, less outgoing. Jack, being the chatty kid he was, took it upon himself to make her feel better. They bonded over her grief where she leaned on Jack for support, and he leaned on her because he had never had an honest, true friend. To this day they are inseparable. Always side-by-side, they ate lunch, hung out, grew up together.
Other: Jack is partially deaf and so wears a hearing aid. He also knows sign language which he uses when he does not have his aid with him. A member of the swim team who competed at national level. |
5,682 | 156 | 20 | 2,097 | 1,847 | She didn’t know how to the respond. As soon as he made that comment, she dropped her hand from his arm. How could someone be so… so insensitive?! She saw immediately on his face as soon as he had realized what he just said and he began to apologize and stammer. She didn’t make a comment. Instead, she just glared at the ground, forcing herself to calm down and not to punch the bastard right in the nose. Right then Braden walked over and she stepped away from Jack, still looking toward the ground. She couldn’t believe him. After all of that, after all that she had been through, he would have the nerve to make that comment?!
Jack and Braden begin walking into the auditorium. She followed, much to her resentment, but she stayed farther back. She hung out back by the entrance and listened as he calmed people down. He described the eclipse and then described the shriek. He then also began to describe a humanoid monster. That must have been the monster that those students running passed her had been talking about. He then began to talk about structure. Robyn stood up. They couldn’t leave the school, especially with those things out there. Robyn shifted slightly, walking forward a little bit to hear better. Jack began describing Maze Runner and began giving rules before starting to talk about building a community.
He then told people to find her and she stood up straighter. She put two fingers in her mouth and whistled, yelling, “Yo! Over here you non-nerds!” People began to swarm about her and she noticed that Jack was talking to the Nerds. People began chattering around her and she snapped, “Everyone shut up!” This surprised everyone because normally she was very nice. But this was a time of crisis and there was not time to be nice. “Alright, listen up you weaklings. There is no fucking way that we will be able to leave the school. So, we need to set up a camp inside the school.” Some student asked if that was the same as living here. “Yes!” she snapped. “We will be living here. Now be quiet.” Robyn saw Jack walk over and he just repeated what she just said. She stared at the ground, glaring at it again. He told them to go repurpose the gym hallways and use them as a camp, which was a great idea, even if Jack said it.
Once he was done, she began herding people toward the door. Jack grabbed her arm quickly and she whipped around, looking at him carefully. “Look, Robyn, I really am sorry. I really really am. I don't know what it was, but I wasn't thinking straight. Everything was fuzzy, like it was a dream, like I wasn't awake. It's the shock and exhaustion,” he stated, looking at her sorrowfully. She frowned and looked away from him. She knew he was lying. She could tell something was up, but that comment… It just hurt. She shrugged her arm out of his shoulder.
“Whatever,” she said uncaringly and began herding people out the door again. She got all of her helpers out into the main area and called out, “Alright! I want twenty of you guys to run around and grab whatever materials you can find. Clothing, drapes, blankets, anything. Meet us back at the gym. We can use those for warmth during the night.” Twenty people took off toward the classrooms. “I want another ten of you to scavenge for medical supplies. Raid classrooms, the trainer’s office, anywhere you can get any.” Ten of the students nodded and ran off. “The rest of you, we need to find a sustainable food source and some drinkable water.”
“How are we going to live here if we don’t have good food?!” one of the students cried. Robyn paused, thinking for a minute. She then looked back up.
“The greenhouse. We can probably use the green house to grow some food if we need it. The cafeteria is still stocked and I’m sure the teachers have stashes of food around here somewhere. I want at least fifty of you looking.” Another fifty took off. “The rest of you, come with me down to the gym. We need to start setting up camp.” She took off down the hallway, listening to the sound of the pounding feet back behind her. They entered the gym hallway and immediately, students separated, getting into lockers for extra clothing, towels, anything that could be used to survive.
“Break apart some of the wood tables,” she yelled. “We can use the wood for fires in the gym if necessary.” The students nodded and a bunch of boys began jumping on the tables, splintering them to fragments of wood. This was surprising how many of them were taking her orders. Honestly, she liked the feeling. She smiled calmly, looking around at everyone. She liked being in charge. She turned back toward the doors and looked out them, looking out at the darkness. Something was… off. She tipped her head to the side and she noticed a fuzzy, humanoid shape take place. Suddenly, it flashed into her parents’ killer and a voice shouted in her mind, You’ll be mine! You have always been mine!
She gasped and jerked back away from the windows, her head slamming against the wall. She saw stares and immediately felt dizzy, falling to the ground. She braced herself against the ground as a few of the students ran over to help her. She kept getting asked if she was alright. She nodded, shoving them off. “I’m fine,” she snapped. “Get back to work.” They all nodded and took off for jobs, right as the people with the cloths were coming back. They had found a surprising amount of cloths, though she later learned that they managed to break into the theatre department and shredded a bunch of the capes. She looked back toward the windows. As long as those things stayed out, they would be fine…
But what if they got in? | Name:
Robyn Capuche
Age:
16
Appearance (real images only):
Year of Education:
11th (Junior Year)
Favourite Subject:
Gym
Personality (optional):
Robyn, on the outside, seems to be the perfect girl. She is extremely nice, sweet, and caring. She does not seem to hurt a fly and is nice to anyone who talks to her. She is smart and outgoing, an extrovert more than an introvert. She’s not afraid to meet new people or try new things and she always stands up for what she feels is right. She could be classified as more of a nerdy girl, considering the fact that she plays video games and studies a lot more than she should.
Background (optional):
Robyn’s childhood was typical. She grew up with upper middle class parents and her childhood was normal. She loved her parents and, being an only child, she had all of their love as well. That all changed when they went camping. There had been reports of someone breaking out of an insane asylum nearby and people were warned to stay in their houses, but her parents didn’t listen. She was out swimming in the lake when she heard screams coming from her campsite. She ran back immediately and saw that her parents had been brutally murdered. The man, the insane one, was nowhere to be found though, and she was left without parents. She was only eight at the time.
She went to live with her grandmother uptown, but she kept having nightmares about that night. Finally, she was walking down the street to her middle school when she saw a combat school. She thought it looked interesting and immediately begged her grandmother to let her enroll for the summer. She did, and Robyn learned more about fighting in one summer than most army soldiers do in a whole year. She only did it for that summer, but she mastered archery and some hand to hand fighting styles. Though she still holds the sweet persona, she is, technically, a badass when it comes to fighting.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters:
Jack Smith- Her and Jack have been friends ever since they were really little. They used to play together all the time after they met in their first grade class. She had to borrow a green crayon from him and ever since, they have been friends. They weren't always the friends who would hang out almost every day. But after her parents' murder, they seemed to hang out all the time and have become almost inseparable. They always eat together at lunch and can always been seen talking to each other or walking with each other around the school. Jack is one of her only solid friends.
Other:
I dare you to look up what Capuche means in French. xD Also, she loves the color green and though her parents were murdered in the woods, she still loves to go camping. |
5,683 | 156 | 21 | 1,555 | 729 | Aria nodded, walking quickly into the front office. The hair on the back of her neck stood up as she collected the first-aid kit and a bottle of antiseptic spray, a mostly full bottle of Tylenol, an unopened one of Ibuprofen, some kids’ allergy medicine, some anti-anxiety meds, and a host of other things. She returned at the trot to hand the things to Vanessa. “I’m going to go find the papers and then head to the auditorium. I think they’ll need me to help organize kids. If I don’t hear from you before the last groups are deployed I will send a few seniors to come find you two.” She headed back into the office. Again she shivered at the vague sense of… fear… that she found in the room.
She took a stack of papers off the secretary’s desk, as luck would have it, the attendance sheets for the entire school for first period. She folded them up and tucked them into her backpack, and walked further into the office. The place was giving her the creeps… she needed to get out as soon as possible. She stepped into the principal’s office and heard a crunch under her shoe as she stepped on a piece of glass. And then her light found the body, cut up and bleeding from the glass and a dent in her head where the skull had collapsed.
She gasped and stumbled back, to slam into the door. The door was closed behind her. But she hadn’t shut it behind herself…. Frantically she yanked on the knob, but it had locked, or so it seemed. Just for a second she heard a demonic cackle, and her flashlight switched off, and she was left alone in the room with the corpse and the pitch-darkness outside.
Frantically Aria tried to turn the flashlight back on, to no avail. With trembling hands she fished her phone out of her cardigan pocket, flipping it open for a tiny bit of light. Instantly she wished she hadn’t.
In the window. A…. thing. That was all it could be described as. From the blue light of her phone she couldn’t tell what color it was, but it was twisted, with too many broken limbs and warped appendages and a tortured, human face staring at her with sightless eyes. Too scared to scream, Aria inched back against the wall. Her foot twisted on something fleshy; for an instant she looked down, realizing she had stepped on the hand of the dead girl. She gagged, and then when she looked up at the window the creature wasn’t there.
Because it was in the room with her. She heard its’ demonic, guttural laugh as it crept closer, inching on twisted arms and legs that grated and clicked like broken bones were bouncing around inside. And then a hand grabbed her ankle, the hand of the dead girl, and in the corner of her vision she saw the creature pounce.
She cowered, fearing for her death, but then there was nothing... There was no creature, the door was open. But the body was real enough. Practically sobbing from terror, Aria scooted across the floor to kneel next to the body. She rolled the figure over, noting the floppy limbs. She had to have just died, then. And then all thoughts went out the window as she realized who it was. Hana, Maki’s interpreter… Oh god. OH GOD. She’d met Hana before… she didn’t seem like the kind to get in a fight. But neither did Maki, and both girls were cut up pretty badly.
Clapping both hands over her mouth, scrambling to her feet, skidding on the hard floor, she sprang to the window and opened it and threw up outside. But as she caught her breath, huge gulping breaths of stuffy, sour air, a lightning bolt of pain lanced through her head and her body, and suddenly voices sprang into her head, laughing, cackling, then shouting at her, hate-filled and bitter.
You don’t deserve to live! They only pretend to care about you because they feel bad for you. You’re too smart for your own good. They fear you and hate you. You’re not one of them, you’re just an extra. Forever an afterthought.
“You’re like a kitten. Defenseless, stupid, too fragile. And whenever anyone gets attached to you they get hurt trying to protect you!” Jack’s voice all but roared in her head.
“Don’t you get it, Aria? I don’t like you. I never have.” Connor spoke, and she could just see him, his hair standing on end like it always did when he was angry.
“I wish you would just die so that you wouldn’t be always following us around like a little lost puppy, making all of us look bad!” Adam added, the mirror-image of his twin.
“Just go away.” Aria said it out loud. Barely managing to control herself, she forced herself back in through the window and slammed it shut. Then she lay on the floor, feeling the voices in her head fading, and also the pain.
“My god, what was that?” she whispered to herself as she finally regained enough control of her muscles to stand. Her flashlight was dead, having hit the ground hard. She only had her cell-phone.
She fled the room, only taking a second look at Hana’s body. “I’ll send someone to come bury you, Hana. You won’t be forgotten.” She said. She took the second doorway out of the office, a door that put her around a corner from the spectacle of Vanessa and Maki. She had to run further then, but she didn’t want to have to pass the girls.
She tasted blood at the back of her throat and reached her hand up to find that she had a nosebleed. Aria used her sleeve to wipe most of it off as she jogged, her sandals slapping on the floor, trying to put as much distance between herself and the office as was possible. The voices of her friends randomly spoke in her head, telling her how worthless she was, how she deserved to die.
An instant before she ran into the auditorium, she realized that she couldn’t tell Jack where anyone could hear or it would cause a pandemonium. So she yanked a red pen and a tattered Latin essay out of her backpack and started writing by the light of her phone.
“There is a dead girl in the office. Hana, I’m not sure of her last name. Maki Fujita’s foreign-exchange sibling. Maki is cut up by broken glass (from a cabinet in the office?) and very scared and crying over some evil thing she did. Vanessa is tending her right outside the principal’s office Hana’s in the office. Her skull was caved in and she was also cut up by broken glass. When I was there in the office I saw a… thing. A nightmare creature. It made me hallucinate or something. I stuck my head out the window because I had to throw up from… finding a body… and the air out there is kind of sour and heavy. I took a few breaths and then it felt like someone electrocuted me and there were voices clamoring in my head and I just couldn’t think…” In the light of the phone the blood on her hands from herself and from Maki was the same color as the ink she had just written with.
She forced the thought out of her head, scrubbed at her nose (Starting the bleeding again, unfortunately) and headed into the auditorium. First she sought out Robyn, having gotten in there just in time to hear her mention fires on the gym floor. “Robyn, not a good idea!” she hissed, rising onto tiptoe to speak in the girl’s ear, while also trying to keep her face out of the light of the phones. “No fires in the gym, on the wood floor. And don’t have them look for supplies in the office. You’ve got to trust me on that, don’t you dare let them look in the principal’s office. Please.” Tears welled up in her eyes and she brushed them away angrily. “I have to go report to Jack, but just… Don’t let them go into the office, whatever you do.”
Then she hurried over towards Jack’s voice, pushing through the crowd of much taller people. “Jack, I got the papers!” she forced nonchalance into her voice, though her bloody face and arms and tear-streaked face would probably scare everyone anyway. “And something else.” She passed him the paper and her phone, hoping he could read the scribbles of her shaking hands.
”You deserve to die, Aria. You’re weak and you’re stupid and you don’t deserve to live, not in this school, not where it’s survival of the fittest.” The Jack in her head said.
Tears spilled onto her cheeks. “How—How can I help…? I know…” she swallowed hard. “I know you think I’m not capable of doing anything, that you think I’m like a kitten, stupid and weak and a liability. But I’d like to help however I can, for the sake of all these kids...” She clamped her mouth shut but couldn’t stop the sob from escaping her. She wiped at her nose (Still unsure why it was bleeding so much) and looked up slowly at Jack, waiting for him to laugh or dismiss her like the Jack in her mind would. | Fujita Maki/17
Year of Education:
11th Grade
Favourite Subjects:
Home Economics & Physical Education
Personality (optional):
TBR
Background (optional):
(Instead of a long recounting of her childhood I'll put some information that other students might know so everyone else can use it as a referrence later.) Maki is a Japanese foreign exchange student. She lives with a home-stay family close to the school. The home-stay family's daughter is Hana, who acts as her translator most of the time. Maki has been a student in this country for only a month. Her english consists of very few words. She always brings lunch for her and Hana. Maki generally keeps to herself but always seems friendly when you approach her. Maki also has an app on her phone that translates japanese text to english speech although it doesn't account for grammar and can be difficult to understand.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters:
Other than Hana (her roommate and translator) she finds it difficult to really connect with anyone due to the language barrier, cultural differences, etc.
Other:
Her favorite color is green. She stands at five feet tall. Trained in Aikido for self-defence and recieved her black belt just before leaving Japan. Practiced Kendo at her uncle's dojo. |
5,684 | 156 | 22 | 133 | 87 | Nevermind. We can probably kick it down, if we need. Don't worry. I'll take the fall for that if we get in shit, I don't care.
Val laughed, again. She couldn't help it. She knew she was laughing more than was adequate or appropriate in such a grave, sombre situation but she honestly couldn't help it. It was her instinctual way of dealing with anything that provoked intense emotion and she knew, if she stopped finding everything funny, that she would end up bursting into tears and breaking down in front of all her classmates. Not a great way to commandeer respect, she thought soberly.
"Kicking down doors just happens to be my all-time favourite pastime," she said, her voice thick with sarcasm; she'd never really gotten into trouble before but she somehow didn't feel like advertising the fact and simply shrugged "But no fear - I highly doubt that anyone will be particularly concerned with a busted door considering what's happening outside. And if they do...well, getting reprimanded is my second favourite pastime. Custodian's Office, it is, then."
They continued on and Val tried to suppress the shivers that kept racking her body. Whereas the shaking had originally seemed sourced from the confused panic of the apparent apocalypse, now it seemed that the cold was affecting her more than she'd first thought. This part of the school was eerily quiet and the echo of their footsteps seemed exceptionally loud in comparison, inviting anything prowling within a 100 yard radius towards them. She quickly pushed that thought out of her head. It just so happened that they did find somethings - but they happened to be more terrified children and...excited teens, than anything else. With a laugh, she sent all of them to the auditorium, settling nicely into the 'helpful' role.
In the Custodian's Office, it was clear that someone had been there before them - by the state of both the door and the smashed cabinet. Val side-stepped the broken glass littering the floor to stand by Cecil as he surveyed the selection of keys. They all seemed to have already been taken and she grimaced.
"Well let's hope this is the work of some well-meaning student rather than a saboteur..." she said carefully, blinking in the light of Cecil's newly discovered head torch, but she suspected her optimism was a little naïve in this situation.
"At least we know where to look for them."
She didn't say anything, striding over to the desk and taking a seat on the edge to catch her breath. She was still shivering violently as it seemed the temperature only dropped the further they advanced in the school. Sighing, she rifled through the books on the desk, which were sparse and uninteresting. It seemed as if everything in the present universe was conspiring to both bore and terrify her.
"So where to next, boss?" she asked with a mocking salute, though her jokey grin was a little forced. | -- |
5,685 | 156 | 23 | 133 | 87 | Somewhere between Val's satirical humour and her acquiescence to his leadership - he was not sure which, and not willing to admit the latter - Cecil realized he was enjoying her company more than expected. And as much as he hated to admit, he hoped she was finding comfort in his stoic façade, though in actuality his stoicism was only willful ignorance. He gave her a small, rigid smile.
Indeed, the screams earlier, combined with the haunting and dreary atmosphere, had scared him. It felt like a horror movie, with the exception that horror movies never phased him; they were only movies, and not strange and unnatural calamities occurring quite literally in your back yard.
He hastily brought his mental shield back up. This is nothing. Just some weird coincidence and a long-ass eclipse. Focus on the task at hand.
"The main caf is nearby," Cecil said. Cafeteria 1 was the largest by far, and held the biggest portion of the food stores. "We can check it out. It's probably some preteens hoping for a snack."
A consistent shuffling sound suddenly donned in his ears, and Cecil noticed to his remorse that Val was trembling. He cursed inwardly at being so dense as to not notice it earlier. His first thought made him take off his jacket. It was thin - more meant to break the wind than anything else - but it held his body heat, and at least had sleeves, not like the girl's t-shirt.
"Here," he said, holding the coat out. He noticed disdainfully that he, as usual, couldn't meet Val's eyes. "I, uh...I just thought...I'm fine, guys generate more heat...might be a bit big, though..." | -- |
5,686 | 156 | 24 | 2,622 | 3,554 | Vanessa couldn't understand the majority of what the girl was saying to her as she struggled to sit up, nearly falling over and passing out in the process though she made it to a sitting position with her back pressed against the cold wall of the hallway. The two were alone, save for the dust while they waited for Aria to return with the bag she'd given her for medical supplies; it hadn't been long enough yet to worry. The senior lifted the headphones over her head and lay them on the ground next to her as to retain the mobility in her neck as she could look at the injuries more fully in the damp light of the flashlight she'd kept for herself. Reaching out she took the girls arm in one hand while using the other to motion her to lean forward a little so she could get a good look at her forehead. All that she had really caught from her mindless babbling had been something about Hana and her being sorry, whatever she had meant by that.
(("I read better than I speak Japanese."))
The loner had left that unsaid until she was finished, where one of her hands searched inside of her bag for a notebook and pen before setting it on the floor next to her. She had just set down the notebook when she heard a crash from inside the office and a small squeak of a scream followed by the sound of a bag falling on the floor. Her eyes widened and the girl who hated everyone stood without question, her eyes flashing a shocking silver in the darkness while she turned away from her.
(("I'll be back."))
Vanessa didn't spare another glance for the Japanese girl as she turned away and headed across the hallway into the office. She flicked her wrist and popped the blade from the the handle of her knife and she set to walking inside of the shadows office. Her eyes adjusted fairly quickly to the darkness, her gaze skipping over what she saw in their. A layer of dust across the floor, the broken glass and the open window where the stale breeze blew through. She thought she'd heard a window slam shut while she was in the hallway. With her sight dampened only slightly she could smell the subtle changes in the air from this mornings perfume and flowers to this. She lifted her nose to the air, breathing it in as the taste of metal and salt touched her tongue. She could smell death in the office and knew something was off.She was often one to follow her instincts and act on the primary urges that had saved her life more than once in situations where she wouldn't endanger another human being - the selfless person she is.
The young woman turned a corner and walked through a doorway to where the bag had been dropped and found the source of the smell she had followed here. The body a girl who she could only assume was 'Hana' though she'd never met her before today where she lay face up with her eyes wide open and a cavern carved into her skull with a good amount of brain matter and blood had gathered on the floor. She would have died instantly and not felt even an ounce of pain that she would have had she lived through the hit that would have left her as a living corpse until her family decided to let her go - unfortunately the equipment wouldn't have worked anyway. She knelt beside the body and rolled up her sleeves before reaching over to close the girls eye lids. "The Dead should watch their Judge, not the Living." She said quietly to herself as she picked the bag off the ground and stepped over the body to go toward the cabinet that still had some other various medications inside of it. There were several rolls of bandages and she piled them in the bag as well before going around to the next room and looked around.
It was the principals office, where she had only been a few times before in the even that she had been found bleeding or had a panic attack though she didn't often stay very long whatever the reason. It was fairly empty, with plain walls and a desk bare save for a pile of scattered pages and a few pens though they looked as if they had not been in use prior. She saw rows of keys lined up on eon of the walls and picked them off, thinking that they might come in use at one point of another over the next few days. Her own keys hung from her jeans pocket. She went over to the window and closed it, keeping out whatever it was that had been giving her a bad feeling and instead of waiting for it to come back she left the room back to the main office area. Aria was no where to be seen.
Walking back out of the room she knew that she was leaving bloody tracks on the tiles floors though it didn't seem to bother her much as she set the bag down and pulled her sweater off as well to leave her standing in her black jeans - already spotted with blood - and her tank top while she tied the grey around her waist. The skin revealed almost glowed in the dark is so was pale, with blue and purple and black veins spider-webbed across the pale surface as the chill began to set in. sitting down in front of the Japanese girl she didn't waste time in using a cloth she'd found to wipe off what she could of the blood from the worst of her injuries and stopped the bleeding without the use of a bandage. If they didn't get water though they could get infected and ultimately cause death. Standing up she straightened her shirt and gestured for the girl to stand and follow her.
(("Time to go."))
---
Vanessa led the way back to the auditorium, her satchel over one shoulder and the case she had found to carry the medicine in her other hand while she walked silently, not really talking or paying much attention though when they finally made it she came across Jack talking to all the students though there wasn't much left apparently ad he soon left the stage to meet with a group of students. Vanessa waved Maki to find someone she knew or wait, either way it didn't matter much to the girl while she waited for Jack to leave the room. She stood, alone, on the other side of the wall with her arms crossed and the little light showing the silvery liens that crossed her skin and mixed with deeper, darker and fresher red and black scabbed cuts along her arms. There were bandages wrapped around her own forearms, spotted with blood that had clearly soaked through though she didn't look to be in any real pain. Her face was expressionless, her posture uncaring though her eyes, regardless of the shadows cast upon her, had grown dark and angry without much sign as to why.
She didn't move at all, instead waited until he had fully left the auditorium and had a chance to see her waiting with the box and her bag with her. The Japanese girls blood spotted her jaw as well and the dead girls still dripped from the soles of her shoes, footprints bloody and dark and wet from all the way down the hall. She remembered the fury on her face and the fear in the eyes of the dead though she had no clue what could have caused it and it would take a fair amount of coaxing to get it out of the girl though it was best if one of the psychology students did the talking to her while she or anyone else who knew Japanese translated for them. With the way that James whispered in her ear she knew that it was only a matter of time until she hurt someone instead of helped them.
She had to tell him she wouldn't be staying with the group. | Name: Cecil Ambrose
Age: 20
Appearance: Cecil is a broad youth, standing at six feet three inches with somewhat developed muscle and a large bone structure. He has tanned skin and thick black hair cut within an inch of his scalp. His eyes are a pale green, sharp in a perpetual frown. His nose is straight and slightly bold, and stubble often coats his jaw. He favours dark clothing, often wearing bluejeans with a black shirt and sports jacket and black runners.
Year of Education: 12
Favourite Subject: Physical Education
Personality: Cecil is first and foremost an isolated individual, unskilled and inexperienced with other people. As he grew into adulthood, his social fear diminished, leaving behind bluntness and stark disinterest. He is often numb to the energy around him, and strongly independent. Another side-effect of his introverted nature is his quick temper and violent anger, and he is prone to physically lashing out when in distress. Usually only inanimate objects are targeted by this habit, but it can stem to other people in the worst of times. In the best of times Cecil is a clear-headed and thoughtful individual, quick-learning and wilful with strong coordination and problem-solving capabilities.
Background: Cecil grew up in a relatively untroubled family, though his livid outbursts quickly made others wary of him. He never had an easy time in school, and at a young age was often the target of aggression from his classmates. In his 10th year, Cecil altogether ejected himself from the school system, finding seclusion in his bedroom deeply more comfortable. He returned to school after accepting it as a hurdle he needed to overcome, joining a local highschool in a special degree that permitted him to attend until turning 21.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters: Casual friends with Vanessa, who he knows as a fellow introvert and someone he can find to pass the time or enjoy unconditional companionship. |
5,687 | 156 | 25 | 945 | 230 | Things are happening, Braden echoed as Jack drew closer to the center of the auditorium, "I guess that's one way of putting it." He listened intently to Jacks speech and caught on everything that had unfurled. Solar eclipse, monsters, thick fog. Wow; either this is one helluva horror movie, or we up shit's creek without a paddle and hole in the canoe floor. "At least I'm not the only one hearing those loud-ass banshees, those bastards," Braden mumbled to himself.
Ah, structure. That sounds like a good idea. And he even made a pop culture reference? Man, Jack should run for office. Then Jack implemented some rules to help govern the school. Hm, I wonder how long before some idiot(s) decided to test the bounds of those rules. . . 5 minutes, 10 tops.
While Jack was giving this speech, Braden couldn't help but feel Jack was overstating the skills the student's possessed. Yes, some of the students were gifted, but none were actual scientists, electricians, or doomsday preppers. They, including Braden, were all still kids or budding adults and most knew little of life beyond school, home, and parties. Braden knew bonds, limits, and intelligence would be tested here, and wondered if the students had what it took to survive. Damn, he hoped so.
Braden then heard Jack start splitting people up into their respective school cliches. He marched over to the Grease Monkey area and listened to Jack talk about the power grid. "We'll see what we can do, and we'll try not to get electrocuted, though no promises. Oh, and is this a bad time to play School's Out by Alice Cooper?" Braden replied as Jack practically gave him command of the auto-shoppers. | Name: Braden Welles
Age: 18
Appearance (real images only):
Year of Education: (12th Grade) Senior
Favourite Subject: Auto Shop, and followed closely by history
Personality (optional): Stern and quick to take charge when things go wrong. Has a bit of sarcasm everyone now and then. Not the most outgoing, but not a complete introvert either.
Background (optional): Common knowledge: Born and raised on the outskirts of the city, working in his father's autoshop as he grew older. Father died while serving a tour of duty with the National Guard. Mother works as the accountant and secretary of the shop, doing all the paperwork and such.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters: Everyone knows him as a good guy, but nothing serious atm.
Other: He wears his father's dogtags around his neck with an added cross on the chain. |
5,688 | 156 | 26 | 2,441 | 646 | Whatever.
No, whatever to you, bitch, Jack thought. He couldn't explain what was going on with himself, because he didn't know. He was guessing, trying to repair the situation between him and Robyn as he knew how. Grovelling like a dumb dog. Not anymore. He was sick of it. He had a job to do. As he swiveled on his heels to meet the repair crew, Jack was interrupted by Aria. She was a mess. "Woah, what the hell's going on? Did someone hit you? Did someone fucking hit you, Aria?" he queried, anger bubbling up like soup forgotten on the stove. He took the papers from her and flicked through the stack, barely taking his eyes off the blubbering, bleeding girl standing before him. Jack was getting confused, and her next statement about being a kitten was making things worse. The irritation was building into animosity. "Goddammit Aria, who said this to you? Never before have I said that. God fucking dammit, is someone giving you hassle? Look, listen, I've never said that. You're my friend, so why would I talk shit behind your back? I wouldn't do that, and you know it," he said, calming himself from 'nuclear shutdown' to 'damn, stepped in mud again'. "I'm going down to the grid with Braden soon, just gonna finish clearing this place up first. Come with me? I'll need someone to read the instruction manual for the screwdriver for me," Jack joked, forcing a smile out of the snot-smeared face of the little girl. He grinned along with her and then he looked down at the note Aria had scrawled down for him. ...dead girl... ...nightmare creature... Jack shut his eyes. He hadn't read any note. There wasn't a note. Maybe he would find it after he was done with the lights.
Jack stood up and ran his hands through his hair. Playing with his hair hurt, like it had been in place so long that it was cemented like in that position and when it moved it ripped chunks out of his scalp, but it was the sort of pain you couldn't stop. It hurt but it was refreshing. Jack rubbed his temples, feeling the blood rushing through the vein on the left of his forehead. It pulsed viciously when a headache was forming, and now it was pumping like the heart of a man in chase. Agonisingly, he opened his eyes. Despite how dark it was, it was still too bright. And there, like an awkward ghost, stood Vanessa. Jack signed for her to come talk to him. The patchy red bandages on her arms told him that she enjoyed the same refreshing pain Jack did, just on vastly different scales. Vanessa told him that she was leaving the group. Jack laughed internally. Where the fuck would she go? She was stuck in here with the rest of us, and she couldn't do anything about it. "Really? You're going to leave us? And where are you going? Why are you going? Let's be honest here. You're going to stay in the building with us, not really leaving at all but actually just being a disadvantage to everyone. We need people to pull their weight. That doesn't include lazing about. Do you know what you're going to do if you leave? Because food is for those who earn their keep, and keep this school running. Are you intending on secluding yourself from everyone or still popping along and seeing us during visiting hours?" Jack asked. Rule #5 was disintegrating before his eyes. He couldn't have a student simply upping and leaving the group, wandering around the enormous school, not doing anything in particular. It was counter-productive. Once they realised they can complain their way out of the work, they would. After that everything would crumble. Jack shook his head angrily, like he was trying to get those itchy grains of sand out of his hair. "Come back when you have a plan, I'm busy the now," he ordered. Why people just didn't do what they had to, he didn't know.
The boy sighed. Before today, Jack would've considered himself a man. He could fix a car, he handled his money, he could do DIY stuff around the house if need be, and he could go out and drink like a man. But today humbled him. He no longer felt like he was ready for the world, not this new, unexplored world. The sad fact was, Jack only felt comfortable in a world pioneered by his ancestors. When the prospect of writing the book of Earth 2.0 crossed his mind, he was worried he would not be able to put pen to paper. He was scared that he would keep everyone in the stages of cave paintings. No evolution if no-one lead the revolution.
Braden was with the Grease Monkeys, probably discussing what they may need, how they should proceed, and anything else that was important. Jack slipped into the shadows outside of the halo of the group. Braden could run his crew well. They listened attentively, recognising a seasoned Shopper when they spoke. Orders were handed out to prepare something or another, or collect overalls. The Monkeys listened and left to get what they had to. "Glad I made the right decision, buddy," Jack said, stepping into the glow of the phone screen. "I want to come with you, down to the grid. If I deal with any more stupid up here I might actually jump from the roof. I'm gonna bring Aria too. Something happened, so she's... I dunno, whatever, right now, but she's clever so I figured it wouldn't hurt. I've been down there before so I know the lay of the land, but I seriously need out of here. But how many Monkeys do you think we have? Because I have a little something I want to make, and I'm going to need your best," Jack explained, wondering whether now would be a good time to tell the Head Monkey what he planned to create. It was now or after. Now would allow Braden time to tell Jack he was being dumb and that it couldn't be done, but he didn't want to preoccupy the guy. After would only make the Monkeys feel overwhelmed. They weren't lazy people, far from it, but two large tasks straight after each other? That was how people got tired of their leader and deposed them. Jack settled for telling him now. "Listen, I want to build some heavy-armour transport. There's a scrapyard about a half-mile down the hill and they're bound to have some four-wheelers, maybe even an old bus. If not there's a bus depot a little further away. But I want some heavy duty transport that can survive an attack if necessary and have the specs to be able to carry stuff. We can't hole ourselves up forever, we'll need to venture out for food and supplies. And if those things are as strong as they are awful, then we're fucked twelve ways from sundown. Do you think your boys can handle it?" Jack asked tentatively. It was a tall order, to say the least. They had repaired cars before, practically rebuilt them, but this was something else. It would require refitting a big-ass vehicle for the appropriate tasks, super-pimping the engine and everything to go with that, and then adding onto the vehicle itself to ensure its safety, counter-balancing everything to make sure the project didn't go tits up when they were out, isolated. "What do you say, bud? You up for a challenge?" | Name: Jack Smith
Age: 17
Year of Education: 11 (Junior Year)
Favourite Subject: Auto Shop, with the real-life aspects of Physics too
Personality (optional): Jack is a naturally charismatic guy who attracts attention from people whether he wants it or not. This means he has had to evolve into the defacto leader in many cases, and his voice is one that is widely listened to and respected among peers for his fairness. A kind kid who treats everyone with as much respect as they deserve, Jack is not one to shy away from dealing swift punishment to those who are cruel, and this is another reason that many of the younger or vulnerable students tend to recognise him as a friend and an ally, a notion Jack uses to his advantage for late assignments or difficult homework.
Background (optional): TBR
Significant Relationships: Since he was a child, he had been good friends with Robyn Capuche. They played together at school and sat together. One day, Robyn didn't show up for school. A week later she came back, a different girl. More secluded, quieter, less outgoing. Jack, being the chatty kid he was, took it upon himself to make her feel better. They bonded over her grief where she leaned on Jack for support, and he leaned on her because he had never had an honest, true friend. To this day they are inseparable. Always side-by-side, they ate lunch, hung out, grew up together.
Other: Jack is partially deaf and so wears a hearing aid. He also knows sign language which he uses when he does not have his aid with him. A member of the swim team who competed at national level. |
5,689 | 156 | 27 | 133 | 87 | The main caf is nearby. We can check it out. It's probably some preteens hoping for a snack.
"Probably," she replied with a quick, amused shrug "Sounds a good plan to me - I think we should" but she trailed off, frowning in confusion when she saw him slide out of his jacket. What was he doing? It was freezing in here - evidenced by the gooseflesh breaking out over her bare arms - so maybe the weird goings on had messed with his body temperature. She slipped off the desk, worriedly, her own pale hand an icy white as she held up her phone, to survey the situation
"Here. I, uh...I just thought...I'm fine, guys generate more heat...might be a bit big, though..."
When she realised he was offering it out to her - and not about to break into insanity - she blushed at misinterpreting his intentions and accepted it, shyly, trying to conceal her own apprehension. She considered insisting he keep it as his own shirt didn't look particularly substantial but, for some reason, the protest died on her lips and she merely swung it around her shoulders and slid her arms into. The sleeves were way too long, dangling past her fingertips and it wasn't the warmest of garments, but it did help and the shivering subsided. She glanced down at herself; it looked comically out of place and she grinned at it.
"Um, thanks," she said, with a genuine smile and when silence broke out, she walked forward and slapped his arm playfully with one of the jacket's sleeve ends in a bid to bring humour to the situation "Well, I guess - I'm glad - you aren't as intimidating as you appear to be."
She walked past him, hoping he hadn't seen her face redden slightly as let her hair swing over her face. She wasn't accustomed to kindness - her five elder siblings were all determined, driven people and whereas it had resulted in dazzling, big-money jobs, she would certainly not describe any of them as generous. As the youngest, she tended to be the most easy going of the six of them but that often meant getting last choice. To have someone else put her health first - even in such a humble action as offering her a jacket - warmed her, as much as the actual material. She sauntered to doorway, where the door lay in splintered, wooden fragments on the floor and glanced back at Cecil, phone still held high to light the way, still beaming.
"The cafeteria it is, then - no time like the present" she announced as brightly as she could muster, her voice echoing in the gloom and her footsteps distorted by the crunching of glass beneath her shoes from the shattered cabinet "It's probably already been ransacked but we might as well do a quick inventory whilst we're in the area. This office gives me the creeps..."
She gave it one last, searching look and headed out in the direction of the cafeteria, beckoning for Cecil to follow. As soon as she stepped out of the safety of the room - as if such a word could be applied to anything, in this current scenario - she felt her ease drain, as though she'd stepped into no-man's land from the security of a trench. She found herself instantly glancing back for the reassurance she'd found in Cecil's outwardly imperturbable demeanour, to make sure he was following. It was a ridiculous fear - of course, he was following; Jack had ordered them to stick together and besides, she had his jacket - but irrational fears can't always be dispelled by logic.
"I hate this not knowing," she burbled to Cecil, quite aware she was rambling but past caring, at this current point in time "This freak eclipse - or whatever they're guessing it is - I mean, why here? Why now? It's so bizarre. It makes me wonder whether any of this was planned by some government or some divine force, or aliens, or...or maybe I'm just reading too deeply into this. I guess the dark just makes me philosophical."
She laughed, aware of how ludicrous she sounded.
"Sorry, sorry; ignore me," she rushed to tag the words onto the end of her speech "I have a tendancy to overthink things. Perks of being into maths, I guess. What's your subject speciality? Somehow, you don't strike me as a science geek..." | -- |
5,690 | 156 | 28 | 945 | 230 | Intimidating, Cecil thought in reaction to Val's admittance. I guess I can see how. Introversion, coupled with a tendency to grimace, and bursts of anger would not do well to make a tall man like himself seem approachable. Though he had managed to make a better impression so far, apparently.
He looked at the jacket's sleeves, abundantly too long on the girl's smaller frame. That's what I was supposed to do, right? He couldn't help but feel that Val might only be humouring him, biting back ridicule only for the fact that they were alone together in a dark room. He hated his paranoia, and the lack of confidence in his own character. He thought he had been getting better, overcoming his social vulnerabilities, but every time he was challenged he found himself still lacking. He had never found the key to building human connections, not the way so many other people did.
"This office gives me the creeps," Val said, finishing the statement that snapped Cecil out of his thoughts. She moved into the hall and waved a hand, and he followed her out, tilting the light on his forehead to light up the floor instead of blinding any who might look at him. "I hate this not knowing. This freak eclipse - or whatever they're guessing it is - I mean, why here? Why now? It's so bizarre. It makes me wonder whether any of this was planned by some government or some divine force, or aliens, or...or maybe I'm just reading too deeply into this. I guess the dark just makes me philosophical."
At the end of it all, Val let out a laugh; a pleasant sound, like a cozy fire on a windy winter night."Sorry, sorry; ignore me. I have a tendency to overthink things. Perks of being into maths, I guess. What's your subject speciality? Somehow, you don't strike me as a science geek..."
"I, uh, changed a lightbulb last weekend...that's science, right?" Cecil answered as they moved further down the campus' main corridor, toward the cafeteria. "I dunno. I'm not big into school. I'm already twenty and I'm still finishing twelfth grade. They say I don't apply myself, but I don't see the point. I just want to get my diploma and go."
Cecil noticed a glow, then, a faint blue spot further down the wide hall. He figured it was around the same spot as the entrance to the caf. Bingo. We'll get our keys from these kids and we'll be on our way.
He said as much to Val, and then continued. "Anyway, I don't mind shop class. But I really like running, and climbing. Track and field, that sort of thing. I've never competed but I always look forward to phys-ed." When he said the words, he really felt the weight of his underachievement. I really haven't done anything, yet...
They were closing the distance on the cafeteria doors when laughter rang out from beyond. Harsh, ridiculing laughter. Then a bang and crackle as something broke, something hard and heavy. Cecil rolled his eyes. Fucking kids. Then, something else touched his senses. A scent, a familiar sickly-sweet aroma.
Together, the pair rounded the corner into the cafeteria. The scent was more intense, and the light from Cecil's lamp was filled with drifting clouds of white smoke. The room was as dark as any, large windows revealing a featureless black sky. Dozens of long tables filled its length, and a series of bars blocked the window that led to the kitchen. The rafters ran across the ceiling twenty feet above them, barely visible in the ambient light cast by seven glowing smartphones.
"Who the fuck is that?"
Cecil was not sure which of the shadowy silhouettes spoke, but he knew the owner of the voice. Cameron was arguably the most well-known student in the school, probably due to the fact that he spent several months in prison and was a known thief and ringleader of many violently-prone individuals. He struggled in all of his classes, and, like Cecil, was three years behind. They had known each other in middle school, acquaintances if not friends, but that was before street reality forced them to change. And for Cameron, the change was not a positive one.
The silhouettes started advancing on them then, some spewing threatening noises and warning them to leave. Cecil only waited until a phone was shoved in his face, and his own lamp revealed Cameron's dark-featured face.
"Oh, it's just Cec!" Cameron laughed, and the others turned on their heels, stalking away with disappointment heavy on their shoulders. "What's up, Cec? Wanna smoke up with us?"
Cecil shook his head and waved away the small roll Cameron offered. "I'm good."
"The fuck is wrong with you, man?" Cameron shoved the joint back into his pocket.
"The keys were gone and I came to get them back," Cecil said, cutting the topic short. "We're gonna try and get the lights back on."
Cameron laughed again. "Why would you do that? We got the run of the school right now. Come on, chill with us and eat all the food you want. I'm sure as fuck not going outside, so we better take control of the rations, yeah?"
Cecil's heart skipped a beat. Control the rations? He had never considered a long-term solution. If this was some kind of terrorist attack, they could be trapped inside for days. And if Cameron had all the food...
"Oh, don't worry, man. We'll share. As long as they suck our cocks!" The rest of the hyenas laughed alongside Cameron. "Yeah, maybe you can cook for us, yeah? We want some fucking chicken nuggets. Just got into the kitchen before you came in." Cameron pointed over his shoulder, and Cecil was suddenly aware of a large hole smashed through the dividing wall between the caf and kitchen, a sledgehammer leaning nearby that was probably once stored in the custodian's office.
Cecil knew that, in that moment, rash action would not help but to escalate things. He had to think. "Well, if we stayed here, we could definitely control all of the food..." He stopped, turning back to Val, the girl whose kindness he had appreciated so much in the moments before then. "And that's definitely not going to work." He kept his eyes on his companion, seeking input, a solution he didn't have. He felt the hostility mounting behind him, challenging eyes burning into the back of his head. What do we do now? | Name: Braden Welles
Age: 18
Appearance (real images only):
Year of Education: (12th Grade) Senior
Favourite Subject: Auto Shop, and followed closely by history
Personality (optional): Stern and quick to take charge when things go wrong. Has a bit of sarcasm everyone now and then. Not the most outgoing, but not a complete introvert either.
Background (optional): Common knowledge: Born and raised on the outskirts of the city, working in his father's autoshop as he grew older. Father died while serving a tour of duty with the National Guard. Mother works as the accountant and secretary of the shop, doing all the paperwork and such.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters: Everyone knows him as a good guy, but nothing serious atm.
Other: He wears his father's dogtags around his neck with an added cross on the chain. |
5,691 | 156 | 29 | 2,622 | 3,554 | The woman stepped forward when beckoned toward Jack though she could tell already it was a horrible time for him since taking on the role of leader and having to figure everything out himself. He was stressed clearly, and the girl had to force the smirk from her lips before she spoke to him at all. "I won't be staying with the group." She said to him without waiting for him to ask what it was that she had meant to say to him. Her eyes found his and she had to overwhelming urge to take him aside again, to torment him as well as speak with him though watching him struggle beneath the weight of what he had brought upon himself would be much more satisfactory when it came down to it. "I'll help still, with the injured and cooking, but being in such close proximity of so many others will end in Death and that is exactly what those things want." The young woman waited for his response, the words coming in a harsh quarry of ridicule and instead of standing there and taking it she reached forward and grabbed onto the collar of his shirt to pull him down to her level without warning. She would have spoken first though the look in his eyes gave him away as to what was happening to him and she saw how he was fighting against what it was that was happening to him. She would have hit him too though any violence could wait until later to see if it was necessary to stop his current path from continuing. Instead she leaned toward him and whispered in his ear the same way that James did to her.
"Come find me when the monster becomes too much."
As soon as she was finished, having felt her lips brush against his cheek while she spoke to him, she let go of his shirt and stepped away from him again, toward the door of the auditorium where she stopped and stood, waiting until enough people where looking at her. She hated being watched by so many pairs of eyes, but as far as she knew she was the only one that had any real and valuable knowledge of how to heal the human body or anatomy at all. "Anyone injured go to the infirmary! I'll tend to you there!" Having spoken she listened to her voice echoing in the great chamber for a moment before turning on her heel and walking back outside of the auditorium into the hallway where her things were waiting for her to pick them up again. She was tense, as if ready to pounce on the next person to snap at her and the way she knew people were staring at the scars and cuts that laced across her skin in intricate lines that she wouldn't be able to hide for much longer regardless.
She picked up her satchel and flung it over her shoulder where it landed and weighed heavily on her shoulder while it bashed painfully against her hip for the time while she lifted the case in her hand as well and walked away without another word. With the pain came a slightly different walk, her attitudes were changing as well with her swaying her hips while she walked and a lack of confidence had become a deadly eyes and predatory walk. Even with her shoes on her steps were nearly silent and evenly paced with the shadows falling over her easily. She had been to the infirmary herself several times before though and she knew where it was for the most part. Maybe she would run into Cecil at some point against today, of course he may end up hurting him if she did see him anyway.
At the infirmary she walked inside and and closed to door behind her and walked until she fell over on one of the bed and lay still with her bag beside her and her eyes staring at the ceiling again. It was quiet here and it allowed her to keep the beast silent and dormant as well. All she had to do was wait for others to come to her and she was sure that there wouldn't be too many especially. | Name: Cecil Ambrose
Age: 20
Appearance: Cecil is a broad youth, standing at six feet three inches with somewhat developed muscle and a large bone structure. He has tanned skin and thick black hair cut within an inch of his scalp. His eyes are a pale green, sharp in a perpetual frown. His nose is straight and slightly bold, and stubble often coats his jaw. He favours dark clothing, often wearing bluejeans with a black shirt and sports jacket and black runners.
Year of Education: 12
Favourite Subject: Physical Education
Personality: Cecil is first and foremost an isolated individual, unskilled and inexperienced with other people. As he grew into adulthood, his social fear diminished, leaving behind bluntness and stark disinterest. He is often numb to the energy around him, and strongly independent. Another side-effect of his introverted nature is his quick temper and violent anger, and he is prone to physically lashing out when in distress. Usually only inanimate objects are targeted by this habit, but it can stem to other people in the worst of times. In the best of times Cecil is a clear-headed and thoughtful individual, quick-learning and wilful with strong coordination and problem-solving capabilities.
Background: Cecil grew up in a relatively untroubled family, though his livid outbursts quickly made others wary of him. He never had an easy time in school, and at a young age was often the target of aggression from his classmates. In his 10th year, Cecil altogether ejected himself from the school system, finding seclusion in his bedroom deeply more comfortable. He returned to school after accepting it as a hurdle he needed to overcome, joining a local highschool in a special degree that permitted him to attend until turning 21.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters: Casual friends with Vanessa, who he knows as a fellow introvert and someone he can find to pass the time or enjoy unconditional companionship. |
5,692 | 156 | 30 | 1,521 | 115 | Hello? Can anyone tell me why the fuck I can't see? Cordelia, aka CC, had been in the human A&P lab when the sudden darkness happened. She was the only one in there at the time, studying blood smears and the interaction of cells with certain medications she would place on the slides. With her headphones playing music loud enough to have drowned out any noise in the hallways, and her eyes clearly focused on the microscope, CC hadn't even noticed the room turning black until she was ready to test a new slide. Her head popped up to retrieve a new slide on the table next to her- only to reveal no light coming from anywhere except the battery operated microscope sitting in front of her. Cordelia had made her way across the lab, toward the door that lead into the hallway- bumping into chairs and table edges, hoping not to spill any hazardous medications and had opened and left out for testing.
"I guess that would be a no.. Is anyone there? I don't know what is happening. Dear god please don't let me be the only one here." Her hands felt along the walls as she made her way toward the auditorium down the science hall. She felt that if there was a mass gathering, that was where it would be. Cordelia pushed her way down the dark hallway, but felt an open door to a classroom and decided to ask and see if anyone was in there confused like she was. Cordelia walked in and started feeling her way around. She wished now she hadn't left her cell phone at home this morning in a rush to get to school. Suddenly CC felt a presence in the room, but something didn't feel normal- like it wasn't a student in the room with her.
"H-hello? Are you okay? Can you help me? I don't understand what's going on." Cordelia walked toward where she felt the presence coming from. "Corey, Corey, corey.." There was only one person who called her that- "Dad? Is that you?" Cordelia stopped in her tracks. She had not seen her father since elementary school when she was finally brave enough to stop the abuse that he put her through. "Corey, you little worthless piece of shit, do you honestly think anyone would want to help you? No one could handle your stupidity. You're as dumb as your mother. She deserved her beatings..And so do you. The sudden feeling of a fist colliding hard with her abdomen made CC screech and try to flee, only to be shoved, fall on the floor, and be drug backward by her foot back to whatever this being was that was acting out her worst nightmares. The fist collided with the side of her face and CC felt blood pool in her mouth. She kicked and swatted toward the direction of the fists, but never collided with anything stable.
CC paused for a moment, lying flat on her back on the cold floor. It was gone.. She was okay.. Then the whirling sound of a fist cutting through the air made CC go into fight-or-flight mode. She leaned up and pushed herself to her feet only for the fist to collide with her right temple. Her body collapsed to the ground. CC couldn't tell if she blacked out- or if she was just laying in the darkness, but the next time she moved to stand the being was gone.
Cordelia quickly stood up and ran frantically down the hallway toward the gym. The metallic taste of blood made her spit as she neared what should be the auditorium doors. The sound of voices made her heart lurch at the possibility she was alone and going crazy. CC walked into the large space to find students working on a task they had been obviously given, But by who? Who was in charge? Where were the teachers? CC walked slowly, she could now feel the swelling of her right eye and the blood washing into her mouth from a gash across the corner of her mouth. She looked around, trying to find someone familiar, but only recognizing a few voices- one being Jack. They had a few classes together a couple years ago- she always thought he was hilarious while everyone else found his sudden outbursts annoying. CC walked through the crowd of students, trying to asses what was going on, and why they were tearing apart tables. She needed to find whomever was giving the students their orders, maybe they could tell her more about what has happened. | Cordelia Chasten - "CC"
Age:
Eighteen Years Old
Appearance:
Year Of Education:
12th- Senior Year
Favorite Subject:
Human Anatomy and Physiology
Personality:
TBR
Background:
Born to a alcoholic father and a crack whore of a mother, Cordelia lived her childhood in fear of her abusive father's drunken rage and her mother's soulless body. She fed herself from the small amounts of groceries her druken father manages to pick up from the local store and tried to keep herself sane. Into her teenage years CC was lucky enough to get her foot in the door at a local resturant as a waitress. With the measly pay she received each week Cordelia took care of her mess of a mother and her psychopathic father. She cooked and cleaned- fulfilling her role as the less than fortunate Cinderella, but with no fairy tale Prince Charming to save the day.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters:
Currently none, but if anyone is interested in having a relationship of sorts with CC I would be willing to work something out.
Other:
Cordelia is pansexual, but is skeptical of relationships. She doesn't fall in love easily and does not fall for looks. She was training in Mixed Martial Arts after school for the past three years just to keep her body healthy, but fell in love with the sport and became very skilled at it. |
5,693 | 156 | 31 | 1,521 | 115 | ] | Cordelia Chasten - "CC"
Age:
Eighteen Years Old
Appearance:
Year Of Education:
12th- Senior Year
Favorite Subject:
Human Anatomy and Physiology
Personality:
TBR
Background:
Born to a alcoholic father and a crack whore of a mother, Cordelia lived her childhood in fear of her abusive father's drunken rage and her mother's soulless body. She fed herself from the small amounts of groceries her druken father manages to pick up from the local store and tried to keep herself sane. Into her teenage years CC was lucky enough to get her foot in the door at a local resturant as a waitress. With the measly pay she received each week Cordelia took care of her mess of a mother and her psychopathic father. She cooked and cleaned- fulfilling her role as the less than fortunate Cinderella, but with no fairy tale Prince Charming to save the day.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters:
Currently none, but if anyone is interested in having a relationship of sorts with CC I would be willing to work something out.
Other:
Cordelia is pansexual, but is skeptical of relationships. She doesn't fall in love easily and does not fall for looks. She was training in Mixed Martial Arts after school for the past three years just to keep her body healthy, but fell in love with the sport and became very skilled at it. |
5,694 | 156 | 32 | 133 | 87 | I, uh, changed a lightbulb last weekend...that's science, right? Val laughed; at least someone else was managing to maintain a sense of humour in the face of this madness and she glanced up at tall figure she was walking alongside, as he continued "I dunno. I'm not big into school. I'm already twenty and I'm still finishing twelfth grade. They say I don't apply myself, but I don't see the point. I just want to get my diploma and go." Twenty? She tried to mask her surprise under nonchalance, but suddenly, she became painfully aware of how out of her depth she was, with this guy she barely knew, in this shadowed hallway where she couldn't even see ten paces ahead of herself. She knew they were approaching the cafeteria by the change in corridor deco and the whoops emanating from the wide doorway ahead. When Cecil mentioned about liking PE, she opened her mouth to supply that she, herself, liked jogging in her spare time. However, as they were about to reach the source of the sound, she decided against it and shut up swiftly.
Instead of the confused, tentative group of kids she'd expected to stumble across, she found herself caught in the glare of an intense, white light of half a dozen phone screens combined. The sickly stench of smoke hung thick in the air and she resisted the urge to sneeze, slowly edging closer to Cecil. The stark glow ploughed towards them, accompanied by low, rough voices and barks of laughter, and Val felt the icy grip of fear seize her limbs. Given that the voices were not entirely unfamiliar - though she couldn't identify any one of them by name - she guessed that this particular event wasn't a direct product of the freak eclipse. No - she recognized the smell, that hung in the shadier parts of school, where people like her steered clear.
"Oh, it's just CC! What's up, Cec? Wanna smoke up with us?"
The advancing party seemed to relax, at this announcement but Val felt as though she'd been kicked square in the gut. Cecil was part of this group - of course; why else hadn't she seen him around her part of school? It had been Cecil's suggestion that they come to the cafeteria - what if he had planned this all along? And now she was trapped, caught in the thick of it. Her heart rate rocketed, as the sickening shock begun to override the paralysis the initial panic had induced in her body. She'd thought...well, she didn't know what she'd quite thought of him, but for some reason, it wasn't this. Stupid, naïve kid, Val admonished herself.
The only glimmer of reassurance that Val received was the detachment in both Cecil's tone and posture. When he refused the loud-mouthed one's offer of - well, Val wasn't exactly well versed in street culture, but she guessed that whatever it was, wasn't of the medicinal variety - Cecil seemed unfazed at the guy's annoyance. As they spoke, Val edged back silently until her back hit the wall next to the doorway. She considered making a dash for exit but Cecil hadn't yet given her reason to doubt him, and so she found herself glued in place.
"Where do you think you're going?" a voice sneered to her left and jumped, as a hand clamped around her upper arm. She shook it off violently and scurried back into Cecil's shadow. Running seemed out of the question. Her only hope was that Cecil wasn't too deep in - and by the way he turned to search for an answer in her, she grimaced. If Cecil didn't know how to convince these guys - his friends - to back down, what hope did she have?...But her three elder brothers hadn't taught her to give up. She pushed up the sleeves of Cecil's jacket, in a bid to look a little less ridiculous and stepped forward, before the doubts took over. She hoped she looked significantly more confident than she felt.
"Look, guys," she said, with as much volume as she could muster "We'd really like to stay, really...but actually, we just dropped by to warn you. You know how everyone's gathering in the auditorium to figure this freaky shit out? Well - news just in - some nerds have just about calculated the origin of this weird blackout and they've worked out what those creatures are, and trust me; it isn't pretty. I'm guessing you heard...the screams."
She paused for dramatic effect, high of her own adrenaline - never mind the joint - and when they didn't outright shoot her down or laugh in her face, she continued. After seeing the effect those wails had had on various students (which seemed as much mental torture, as physical), she was counting on the fact that these people seemed like they had more mental demons than most. In all honesty, she was lying through her teeth and surprised by how easily the untruths wove their way into her speech.
"It's not an eclipse, like they've been saying. The military-" the slightly more believable of the wacky theories she'd just been recounting to Cecil was the first thing that came into her mind "- have been using this area for nuclear weapons testing. You remember the eye tests they made us all do last week?" A routine check, as part of 'Love your Retinas' week, as Val recalled correctly "Well, it was to check that no eye damage had been recorded in the local population, due to the radioactive testing they'd been conducting at night. You know, in that abandoned warehouse a block down from this school? It's a top secret trial that they've been running - I mean, war's more important than us civilians, of course. But there's been an explosion - a leak. They've locked this area down and they're sending SWAT teams in, as soon as they can. It's messed up local wildlife pretty bad and it's causing hallucinations in some people, which will only get worse. But the main concern is that radioactive waste has been found in another cafeteria's food supply, and that it's all contaminated. So if you want to stick around, be my guest. But don't blame us when the government descend and lock all three of your glowing, green, skeleton arms into specialised handcuffs. We're out of here."
She let what she had said sink in, her heart still pounding like a moth trapped in a jar, hoping that the mix of scientific jargon and blunt words would be enough to make them pay attention and listen. Her second eldest, sports-star brother regularly brought his teammates home, where they drowned themselves in alcohol until the early hours of morning. If she wanted any sleep whatsoever, she had learned that the best way to convince them shut up was to not hesitate, not even for a second, look them straight in the eye and shout. Of course, she'd interjected a slight bit more subtly into the current situation but stuck to the basics. If it worked though, it was a freaking miracle. And she said so.
"If this works," she hissed to Cecil, once again seeking comfort in his shadow and tugging him away slightly as the gang exchanged glances among themselves "I'm dropping out of school and pursuing a career in Hollywood. But if not...I've no idea what I just said but I'm sorry if I just destroyed your street cred, there..." | -- |
5,695 | 156 | 33 | 1,555 | 729 | Aria flinched at Jack’s yelling, shaking her head when he asked if she’d been hit. He startled a laugh out of her with his comment about the screwdriver instruction manual. She gave him a rather watery grin. “I’m going to just go find a Kleenex or something or I’m going to bleed to death.” She said, pointing at her bloody nose.
She picked her way through the crowd and went into the bathroom, grabbing a wad of paper towels and plugging her nose with them. As she was in there her phone flickered and died, and suddenly she was left without any sense of direction.
She gasped, for she hated the dark… hated the dark… And curled into a ball, clenching her eyes tightly shut. If she had her eyes closed she couldn’t tell it was dark.
A pounding on the door, and she flinched. But then the person spoke. “Aria, are you alright?” The sound was muffled.
“N-no…” she choked out. In a second the door was open and a flashlight shined on her; her eyes watering in the sudden light, she looked up to see the twins, each with their pocket flashlights out. She lunged to her feet, trying to calm her shaky breathing, the terror of being in the darkness.
“You’re alright, Aria. What happened?” Connor asked. He put his arm around her shoulder in a comforting way.
“We heard you crying from all the way in the auditorium. The Monkeys are about ready to head for whatever Jack’s crazy plan is. And being we’re the least likely of all of them to trigger a panic attack from you, we came to find you. Phone die?” Adam said.
“Yeah… It was full battery this morning, I don’t know how it drained so fast.” Aria took a shaky breath and coughed, thankfully not spitting any blood out. Her nose had stopped bleeding, finally.
“Come on, let’s get you out of here. Use my flashlight; I’ve got another one in my backpack.” Connor handed her the light, bracing her upright until she got her feet under her. She gave him a watery grin and mentally re-organized herself.
“Don’t tell anyone I’m scared of the dark, okay?” she asked softly. Both boys chuckled.
Aria forced a smile onto her face and led the way out of the bathroom, re-entering the auditorium. She came up beside Jack and Braden, smiling apologetically. “Sorry guys. It’s hard to think when your nose is bleeding.” she said. “Are all the tutors going too? And what’s our project, anyway?” | Fujita Maki/17
Year of Education:
11th Grade
Favourite Subjects:
Home Economics & Physical Education
Personality (optional):
TBR
Background (optional):
(Instead of a long recounting of her childhood I'll put some information that other students might know so everyone else can use it as a referrence later.) Maki is a Japanese foreign exchange student. She lives with a home-stay family close to the school. The home-stay family's daughter is Hana, who acts as her translator most of the time. Maki has been a student in this country for only a month. Her english consists of very few words. She always brings lunch for her and Hana. Maki generally keeps to herself but always seems friendly when you approach her. Maki also has an app on her phone that translates japanese text to english speech although it doesn't account for grammar and can be difficult to understand.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters:
Other than Hana (her roommate and translator) she finds it difficult to really connect with anyone due to the language barrier, cultural differences, etc.
Other:
Her favorite color is green. She stands at five feet tall. Trained in Aikido for self-defence and recieved her black belt just before leaving Japan. Practiced Kendo at her uncle's dojo. |
5,696 | 156 | 34 | 2,677 | 6,563 | Ro blinked at the sound of the collective gasps of the classmates around him, accompanied by an... unearthly shiver. A rare occurrence for them to be so synchronized, even with preparation. But they hadn't prepared- that usually consisted of lots of whispered words and 'sneaky' giggling. It prompted enough curiosity for him to look up, suddenly aware that the history teacher's constant droning had stopped. He knew every bit of what she was talking about- it was a waste of time to have to stay in the class when he could just go ahead and take the test and be done with it all. But now, looking around, she didn't even exist. She was not in the room- and based on what the panicked voices around him said, she had, quite literally, disappeared.
That wasn't normal, of course. It shouldn't even be possible. There was no known technology- not even a real rumor- of any kind of device that makes anything or something invisible, or to instantly move someone from one place to another. In other words, human technology did not have the ability to make someone disappear before someone's eyes. And yet a grown adult had disappeared right in the middle of a lecture, in front of twenty students.
The light shining through the window darkened; the lights dimmed and went out, as if an overcast sky had knocked out the power. Half the kids got up and started moving about, aimlessly, collecting into groups and then moving to a different spot to just collect again, all asking each other the same things, all getting the same answers. He just put his head back down and continued doodling- someone who thought they were in charge or had an idea as to what was happening would come by in the next ten minutes or so. If not, he'll head out to look.
Minutes pass, and finally, the door rattles and there is the sound of footsteps outside- an increasing number of them. Ro was reassured- people were still alive and going, and someone was likely to be organizing them, if they were as not-panicked as they sounded from here. The door opened- half the class (mainly the girls, not the guys who were trying to be macho-nacho) screamed, eliciting a wince from Ro. He hated loud, sharp noises, like screams or the sound of chalk against a chalkboard, or loud music, or really anything that prevented him from hearing everything around him. His class filed out of the room, moving in both a panicked and a reassured, relieved way. He stayed sitting down, at least until everyone else was out of class, bookwork, papers and pencils forgotten.
Standing, he emptied his backpack of everything useful, minus his phone, iPod, and laptop (with their assorted chargers), and started grabbing pencils and pens from around the room, stuffing them into one of the side pockets. Once he was satisfied he had plenty, he started searching for empty notebooks or the like- after finding three, and another of his own that he had just been doodling in, he was satisfied he had all the paper and drawing utensils he needed. He pocketed any little items- he found a little flashlight that someone had, and a couple unopened water bottles (out of half a dozen). He kept the water and the flashlight- they might be useful, after all.
Then he felt the hair on the back of his neck rise, and he was seized by sudden discomfort- just like the cheesy lines about oneself being watched. He turned, towards the one thing he had yet to approach- the window. Cautiously, aware that he had no idea what was going on and what could be happening, he stepped towards the window. Four steps was all that was needed for his long legs to carry him there, and he peered outside.
A wall of gray met him. Odd, that he hadn't noticed it before, and where did it come from? Why could he, when he took a look to both sides and to the ground below, see the school and the grounds immediately next to its walls, just for everything to disappear into impenetrable fog, mist, whatever? He looked about, trying to find the source of his discomfort, before he found a coloration in the fog. After a moment, that ground-level coloration resolved into the face of a grotesque creature.
He stared at it, recoiling in revulsion and horror, in fear, even, before curiosity overwhelming even that. He studied it as carefully as he felt he was- his creature was not normal, and anything he may think it may be in right now could be completely off. This was alien; this did not belong in the natural world. It did not belong at all. He sensed a not-so-friendly intelligence within it, although not cold or calculating. It studied, but it was not seeking best advantage, he thought. It was not testing him, it was not teasing him. It was simply studying him, looking for anything of note. He studied it right back, before taking several quick glances around the room he was in, making sure he was still alone. When he turned back to the window, it was gone.
Shaken from the sight of the unearthly, wrong creature, he left the room with jacket on his back, backpack slung on both shoulders, half-full. He headed to the closest janitor's closet, opening it to check its contents. He glanced inside, closed the door and moved on to the next, finding what he wanted there. Pulling out a dusty, old steel mop- the kind with a real wood shaft, with two strips of steel to reinforce, plus the steel pieces at the end that was supposed to have the cloth crap clutched in its grip- he spun it about, taking it in, before nodding, satisfied. For now, until he could get something real, the long-handled, light mop would do. He could push things away, whack them with the sides, and clean up their blood after he's done with them. Neat!
He searched around a bit more before finding something else that's a must-have in any apocalyptic situation- duct tape. Two rolls stacked next to each other was all he'd need- retrieved the flashlight from his pocket, with its handy on/off toggle button on the bottom, he took a strip of duct tape and wrapped the flashlight's main body around his right hand wrist. Satisfied, now, he felt a bit more comfortable exploring the dim or nearly dark hallways. After all, he once said: He wasn't afraid of the dark- he was afraid of what was in it. He took out his notebook a moment later, and wrote a note for future reference:
FIND THESE THINGS:
-DUCT TAPE
-FLASHLIGHT
-BTTRY
-HNDHLD CHRGR
-KNIFE/SWORD/SHARP
-GUN/MUNITION (pref. SA hg/sg)
-GRNLA BARS
-MBLE GNRATR (For electrenonics) (Slr or gas)
-WTR
-MTCHES
He rubbed his chin, trying to think of anything else. Other people would probably find his way of abbrievating things insanely aggravating- sometimes writing full worlds, sometimes just abbrievating them into something that would only make sense to him, sometimes just taking out the in-between sounds/letters, so that sounding it out will still reveal the word. Matches... mah-ches. Mtchs... Mmm-tches. Works for him- and if someone else was looking through his stuff and had trouble, all the better.
He stretched after putting the notebook and pencil away, before deciding that a bit more cloth wouldn't hurt to keep him warm. Already, the chills were starting to set in, since the heaters had obviously stopped working, and there were no longer hundreds of warm bodies to keep the hallways warm again. Speaking of which, all those kids are going to have to... most of them are going to die, he figured. If whatever that thing was outside was anything close to what he was thinking, people were most certainly going to die. And besides, he figured that if one got him, it'd just give him what he had been hoping for years- to end this life without taking it himself. And if he survived to find something better, then he won too. In a way, he had set himself for a win-win situation- he either failed to survive and died somehow, and he got what he wanted, or he succeeded in surviving and had yet to die, in which he also wins.
He shrugged. Shit happens- unfortunately, everyone's neck-deep in this shit. Only the quick thinkers with a bit of luck will get out of this one, he figured.
His feet matched a strange cadence from a distant memory in his head, as he pounded down the stairs. Being on the second floor was a bit of advantage- whatever those creatures were, they were just as limited as other creatures, so climbing walls are a lot harder than pushing doors open. With this thought came an icy chill of fear- they may be studying them... but what if they came in? The doors wouldn't be locked right now- none of the obvious ones, at least. They could literally walk in and just... kill someone. Kill him. But what if they didn't want to kill him? A similar thought like innocent-until-proven-guilty came to mind. Friendly-until-proven-hostile, right? But no, the world didn't work like that. Treat everything cautiously if you don't know it- keep on your guard and prepare for the worst, and be relieved when it doesn't happen.
In that case, he fully expected one of those things to be on the other side of the corner, as he stepped off the stairs and darted forward. Indeed, he was half right- a kid yelped, turned, and ran down the empty hall, startled half to death by the way he stumbled and faceplanted. A momentary smirk flashed across Ro's face for a moment, before he turned in the opposite direction. Now that he was downstairs, he could hear- and see- the presence of the rest of teh kids. Quiet, yet loud, conversation and phone screens made it obvious that they were gathering towards the middle of the school. Smart.
But he wasn't interested in where everyone else was right now. Any sane person would've followed the running kid- but he wasn't completely sane, now was he?
Ro froze. He had peeked around the corner to the doorway that he had used every day of school since he had moved here. One of those things was at the outside of the door, looking in, fiddling with it. Learning. He could see it- pushing against it, pulling against it, then its... hand? slipped, pushing the handle down. It started as the door jerked slightly open, from its weight pressed against it, before it took a cautious step forward pushing the door open. It stared at it, moving it back and forth, getting an idea on how it worked, before it looked up.
Immediately, despite the dark, it saw him- and he was nearly paralyzed. Either way, he didn't dare move, and nor did the creature. Again, they stared each other. Again, nothing happened. He decided to test a blossoming theory in mind... and glanced away for a moment before returning to the door. The effect was just as he had hopefully predicted- the creature had already turned and let go of the door, clearly meaning to run. Once his eyes settled back on it, its own snapped back to his. They stared at each other again. Then, without quite realizing it, the creature was gone, and the door silently clicked shut.
He took a step out behind cover, steel-and-wood mop in hand, holding it at the ready like a spear. He inched forward, before carefully locking the door, and placing the steel pole, dotted with little pegs, into the door. A security measure- to keep the door from being opened. He sighed as soon as it was in place, and leaned against the wall. Shuddering, he had the sudden sense he had narrowly avoided death- a gruesome one. He closed his eyes, feeling a sudden urge to cry.
On the outside, nothing changed- on the inside, he felt the familiar bolt of loneliness and helplessness. He was isolated, an outcast, all alone, with no one to help him. It wasn't surprising, it wasn't new, he'd had the same thing for years. Even broken down several times. More than anything, he wanted to be comforted- hugged, told that everything would be okay. Not in the mocking, teasing way his mom did, or his father's version of a hug- a good lecture to get you up and going, right? What a bastard, he thought. He hated his father. All it was were lectures, about how this person is this way and should really learn this or that. Well, thank the One Above- whoever the hell it may be, if they even existed- that he was nothing more than finely dispersed particles right about now. At least, he hoped. His mom was slightly more of a loss, but he generally didn't care about his parents.
So he leaned against the hard, unforgiving wall, sitting on the unyielding cold floor, silently struggling to take firm control of his emotions again. Ten minutes, it took, to reign them in, and to get himself back under control. When he finally opened his eyes, he let out a shuddering, deep breath, calming himself. This was a moment that he would be sure no one saw- and indeed, no one did.
He stood up, using the mop to help him up, and he took another cautious look at the door- and the mist beyond, through the small window- before backing away. Once he felt he was safe enough behind the corner he had originally come from, he turned and started jogging back towards the rest of the humanity.
A stop at coach’s offices and another, more general supply closet saw him with a few extra supplies- some bandages and basic meds, plus a couple more small flashlights- and feeling better prepared to deal with other people. He wrapped another flashlight to his other wrist, and, once satisfied he had everything down reasonably well, he started back towards the rest of the students, no longer delaying.
He clicked on his right wrist flashlight, using his hand to both shine his way through the increasing number of students, and to push through the ones that didn’t move. In short, he was heading to the center of the crowd, right where he didn’t want to be, so he could figure out what anyone else knew, and tell someone in charge what he knew. For example, the creatures outside now knew how to get in. They may not come in, or they may burst it- it was yet unknown. Either way, someone who had some kind of influence had to be informed. And, no doubt, someone was.
People would begin cursing before they saw who they were looking at, and their anger turned to disbelief. He was one of the quietest kids in school, who paid attention to no one- not even teachers or bullies- and yet smoothly dealt with them all. He was a somewhat known figure, for being so quiet, since he was one of the top students. His downturned eyes- high enough to see ahead of him, low enough to keep away from people’s faces- avoided all attempts to contact others, instead opting for flashing them with his flashlight if they tried to stand in his way. His reputation was that of the quietest, smartest, and unstoppable. People have tried to bully him- he dealt with them each and every time in a way that forced them to stop. When finally one bully tried to block his path, going so far as to shoving his shoulder to force him to stop, he simply flashed him in the eyes, and darted around him, shoving a knee into his crouch as he went. The kid went down; he went onwards.
The shouts of adrenaline- and fear-pumped students reached him from the edges, and was growing steadily louder. Before, he had been quiet- now, he almost wanted to just snap at anyone in his way. It was most unusual, feeling so aggressive. Either way, he shoved his way through to a ring of students, where several kids were getting their asses kicked by the... Japanese girl.
Yes, now that she turned to face him, she was unmistakably the foreign student. He spread his hands in front of him, showing he didn’t mean any harm. He impassively took in the several kids on the ground, admiring her handiwork. Then he turned back to her, tilting his head, wondering why she had to beat up these kids. Based on the way other kids were edging forward, she was being attacked; indeed, she wasn’t aggressive, rather passive, defensive. Tensed, ready to defend and eliminate threats, not make new ones.
So he asked, vaguely, to anyone, “So what’s the problem here?” Several kids gasped behind him, another called out, “He ain’t mute!” He just snorted in response, and waited for a couple seconds, before one of the closer kids- some kid who liked calculus- spoke. “People been sayin’ she killed someone or deh other- yanno, some kid named Hana or somethin. A best bud of hers or somethin’ er the other.” He nodded his thanks to him, turning to him for a brief moment, before looking at... “What’s her name, again?” “Maki.”
He took a step forward, hands still raised. “Hey Maki. You can’t speak English can you? Not very well? Either way, herm...” He tapped his chin with his left hand, trying to recall a bit of Japanese he had learned once- he once had a friend from there, over the internet. “((Peace)),” he said, in rough Japanese. Then he shrugged; that was all he could recall. Placing a hand over his chest, his right hand, so his hoodie-covered chest was lit up, he said, “Ro.” Then he pointed at her, said, “Maki,” and then gestured vaguely to the kids lying on the floor, “Assholes.”
Then he took in her, well, very bloody form, and reached into his pack- leaning his mop against his shoulder- and pulled out some bandages. He gestured them towards her, in a way that asked if she needed any medical attention. When a kid protested, he rounded on them, and snapped, “The - and because Maki here cannot speak for herself on account of being Japanese. It may very well be that her best friend tried to kill her and she defended herself, or she did, in fact, kill her and was simply the winner of the duel. Or, someone framed her, or, something else happened.”
When the kid started to protest- angrily- he cut him off once again. “Yes, the world may have gone to shit as far as we know, but we are still human and we are still Americans, even if we may be the last people left on Earth.” He paused for a breath and for effect, glaring at anyone who looked like they might speak up. Apparently ruining his own reputation for something might be worth it.
So he continued, finger jabbing at anyone who looked belligerent or disagreeable, “If we don’t hold ourselves to the standards we had before, at least on some level, then we might as well drop all of them and go to squabbling over whatever resources are left like wild fucking animals. Meanwhile, there are the fuck knows what outside- and unless you’re deaf, you certainly know they’re there- who I bet would just loooove for us to kill each other off so they can come in and pick out what they want to have for breakfast. Now shut up, and do something useful like grabbing a towel. And someone find someone who speaks Japanese, yeah?”
And with that, he stomped over to the kids laying on the floor, checked to make sure they were still alive before ordering someone to drag them off to recover. And surprisingly someone did for each one, though he didn’t pay attention to who. When the kid he had kneed earlier suddenly showed up, looking as if he wanted to pick another fight, Ro just looked at him and waited. After a moment, the kid- probably some football jock- stomped forward, muttering something about teaching him a lesson. Ro didn’t bother with as much action as he did before, and brought up the top of the mop handle into the kid’s nose, the rounded end smashing into his face with more force than he realized he had put into it, knocking the kid back.
Snapping, he said, “Threaten me with force and I will return it to end the disagreement quickly. Threaten me with words and I will return it to end the disagreement quickly. I am not your enemy, dumbass. I’m your buddy- cause right now, there’s just a whole lot of us and something you do not want to see waiting outside. Now would you quit seeking to prove yourself, and be useful?” He waited, as the jock glared at him, eyes watering from the painful hit, before he turned and stomped away, back stiff and hands holding his hopefully-broken nose.
Then, again, he turned back to Maki. His grave, grim, annoyed face softened slightly, recognizing her as nothing but someone caught in unfortunate circumstance- for now. She may very well have actually murdered someone, but it was more likely to be selfdefense. While a girl like her obviously knew how to beat someone up- evidence of that was just dragged away- she didn’t seem violent or mean enough to do so. He had her in several classes- she just wasn’t that way, from what he’s seen.
So he held out his hand for a handshake, saying, “I’m Ro. And I’m your friend, got it, Maki?” | Name: Ronald "Ro" Roy
Age: 17
Appearance (real images only): 6' 1", tall and lanky. Working on a ranch shortly before moving brought some amount of muscle, and gave him a certain nimbleness uncommon among city folk.
Year of Education:
11th grade, plus dual-credit at-home courses during the summer, and dual-credit college classes.
Favourite Subject:
Science or English, he won't choose which one specifically. Says he loves writing, but he also loves new interesting things, like Quantum physics.
Personality (optional): Withdrawn, apathetic, and generally just tired of life. He loves adorable things though, so the most emotion one will get is if they bring a kitty or puppy up to him.
Background (optional):
Here's the basics that everyone would know, if they ever did any digging:
He moved there the year before, when he was sixteen, and has said pretty much nothing since. He's one of the top five in his class, and the most quiet, introverted of them all. He grew up in a different state, one that no one really seems to know which, exactly, and all the teachers honor his parents' requests for privacy.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters:
"No one cares enough to try and get me to talk, so why bother?" He has two puppies though, if they count- a Corgi and a German Shepherd.
"Striker"
"Milo"
Other: Nuttin' |
5,697 | 156 | 35 | 133 | 87 | Street cred? Cecil thought amusingly. Val's speech was impeccable, and he started to believe it until he realized what she was doing. Playing their drug-induced paranoia against them. Awesome. He turned back to Cameron just in time to witness his eyes widen, and nervously flicker to the kitchen and then back to him.
"Cec? Can you believe this bitch?" Cameron said, but the usual arrogant roughness was gone from his voice. A nervous silence shrouded the rest of Cameron's group, but Cecil realized he had to follow suit to topple the pin that Val had knocked off-balance.
"Yeah," Cecil said, drawing himself up. Cameron was nearly as tall as he was, but as Cecil approached, raising his voice, the other man seemed to shrink back towards the floor. Intimidating. If nothing else, I can do that. "I do believe her. And if you fuckwits don't want to be shitting your cancerous guts out in an hour, I wouldn't touch that food." He made his eyes stern and bared his teeth, trying not to think about the trembling in his knees. If things came to blows, he was not certain he and Val could take on seven other students - especially students with the violent instinct of wild predators.
Cameron froze for several long moments before a cocky grin grew on his face. Cecil relaxed his shoulders when he realized the grin didn't touch the other man's eyes.
"You better watch your fucking mouth next time I see you," Cameron said, gathering the other boys with a twirl of his finger and beginning to walk from the room. "And keep your bitch on a leash." He nodded at Val. "You can keep this shitty foo-"
Cecil stopped the man mid-stride with a heavy hand on his collar. "The keys. Unless you want SWAT taking you down for theft. Aren't you on probation or something?"
Cameron glared back defiantly before turning his pockets out. Several jingles told of the keys falling to the floor. He knocked Cecil back two steps with a heavy shove, then departed behind his friends.
Cecil waited until he could no longer hear their steps in the hall before moving a muscle. He turned to Val, uncomfortably aware of the sweat that had built on his body, but couldn't help a short laugh.
"You're a genius," Cecil said. "But I really hope they figure this thing out before Cameron finds out everyone else is eating the food, and not dying." He swept down, gathering the fallen keys into his palm. I guess the basement is next. With the pair of them suddenly alone once more, the large windows before him struck him with an ominous anxiety. They were pregnant with insurmountable darkness, like peering into death itself, threatening to shatter the thin veil and swallow them whole. Despite his efforts, he was beginning to truly believe that his life was never going back to the way it was. | -- |
5,698 | 156 | 36 | 1,555 | 729 | She had been doing her best to keep them at bay. If she really wanted to hurt them she would have used much more aggresive tactics but it was bad enough that they probably already assumed she was a murderer so hurting more people wasn't going to help her case. Then seemingly out of nowhere a giant of a man emerges from the crowd and spoke with a very demamding tone. Maki stood ready, unsure of what the giant might do. She recognized him calling her by name. It was a bit annoying to be called by her first name by someone she barely knew but it was common here so she couldn't really be angry. Despite his inadvertant rudeness he seemed to be trying to help and even handed her some bandages before having the hostile students carted away.
He made it clear that his name was 'Ro' and she repeated, "Ro-san." Ro-san also pointed out that the hostile students were called something a bit more difficult to repeat, "Asuhoruzu?" Regardless of whatever that meant, Ro-san had effectively saved from a bad situation. A few other students tried to speak up but Ro-san quickly shut them up as well. While she and Ro-san had a few classes together she rarely ever spoke to anyone other than Hana but she was glad to have someone looking out for her.
The crowd had started to disperse, meaning that the worst of it was over. Maki, still in her bloody clothes, was desperate for a shower at this point. All she wanted was to rinse off the gore and change her clothes yet she had been caught up in a mess. Her own smell was starting to get to her. She had never felt so filthy in her life, even after hours of training she didn't feel anything like this. Looking at her own hands, stained with blood as they were, she could understand why they considered her a threat. Ro-san was her only ally at this point so she was wanted to make sure he knew it. Just as she was coming out of her thoughts Ro-san turned to her again and held out his hand. Of course Maki knew what a handshake was but she had never been comfortable doing it. Despite that she reached for his hand. Just as she was about to take his hand the sight of her own bloodstained hand caught her attention. It made her hesitate and instead she drew her hand back and bowed to Ro-san. "Sankyu belli machu!" | Fujita Maki/17
Year of Education:
11th Grade
Favourite Subjects:
Home Economics & Physical Education
Personality (optional):
TBR
Background (optional):
(Instead of a long recounting of her childhood I'll put some information that other students might know so everyone else can use it as a referrence later.) Maki is a Japanese foreign exchange student. She lives with a home-stay family close to the school. The home-stay family's daughter is Hana, who acts as her translator most of the time. Maki has been a student in this country for only a month. Her english consists of very few words. She always brings lunch for her and Hana. Maki generally keeps to herself but always seems friendly when you approach her. Maki also has an app on her phone that translates japanese text to english speech although it doesn't account for grammar and can be difficult to understand.
Significant Relationships with any other Characters:
Other than Hana (her roommate and translator) she finds it difficult to really connect with anyone due to the language barrier, cultural differences, etc.
Other:
Her favorite color is green. She stands at five feet tall. Trained in Aikido for self-defence and recieved her black belt just before leaving Japan. Practiced Kendo at her uncle's dojo. |
5,699 | 156 | 37 | 133 | 87 | But I really hope they figure this thing out before Cameron finds out everyone else is eating the food, and not dying.
Ahh, yes well, Val thought, still dazed and amazed that they'd gotten away with it - she hadn't quite thought this far ahead. Her one and only goal had been to eliminate the immediate threat that was 'Cameron', as Cecil referred to him, and now that it had been, she was a little lost. The darkness had grown stifling once again as the glow of several smartphones' had retreated along with the cafeteria gang and hers was now one of the only sources of light, creating a wealth of creepy shadows on the walls and benches. It suddenly seemed painfully feeble and a moment or so later, her worse nightmare manifested as reality.
The 'very low battery' icon flashed up, on the homescreen. She winced audibly as her eyes confirmed that charge was flooding from the device fast and with 10%, it had ten minutes of life, maximum. She dimmed the resolution in a desperate attempt to extend the life of the precious object but she knew it wouldn't be enough.
"Somebody had better fix this mess quick," she muttered in exasperation, "Or ship in a batch of chargers, or something; I'm going to end up going crazy."
She stepped over the litter the group of undesirables had scattered across the cafeteria floor - trying not to dwell too hard on what, exactly, it consisted of - and peeked around the doorway into the main kitchen, which was eerily empty with abandoned cooking utensils strewn across the surface, as if thrown down mid-meal creation. Which she supposed they had been. She couldn't think of a time when she'd seen the area devoid of bad-tempered, hair-netted dinner ladies, who appeared to exist exclusively in this environment. It was a sobering thought. Giving the food stores a quick check, she saw that the group of guys (she'd managed to scare away) had left it untouched. Which was good...for now. As long as they remained away. She hoped they wouldn't catch up with her and Cecil. She was fairly sure she couldn't talk herself out of a round two with them.
Sighing, she returned to main cafeteria room. She threw Cecil a small smile, glancing down at the keys he had retrieved. Focus on the little victories, she reminded herself.
"I guess next stop is the basement," she said, with a quick gesture in the basement's general direction and she headed into the corridor outside, double checking that the gang had evaporated which, thankfully, they had, "Funny - I'm beginning to remember every horror movie I've ever seen, in vivid and excruciating detail. Let's just hope that fiction doesn't merge into real life. Well; I mean, more than it had already."
She shook her head, rubbing her forehead as they walked on. | -- |
Subsets and Splits
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