sucre'd fiend’s
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(group member since Mar 23, 2014)
sucre'd fiend’s
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from the Ⅱ▼Ðaґкиёss Ḟallş▼Ⅱ Advanced Rp Ⅱ group.
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GO GUYS YOU CAN DO IT
Ryker Triske[Age of Person] 23
[Gender] Male
[Personality] Well, I'm not too sure what I want in his personality, so whomever takes this request can have free reign over it. He was in the militia before he left, and was captured again for treason, so I expect he won't be a happy camper.
[Reasoning] He was the lover of my hybrid Israel, before he was captured by one of the human gangs (either one is fine). I want them to meet up again, either with him having escaped, or being forcibly inducted into whatever gang he was captured by.
[Other] He's human
[ ghosting ]Finishing up a character ^-^
⇡ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴀʙᴏᴠᴇ⇡➥ Tʜɪs ᴛᴇᴍᴘʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴍᴀʟɪᴄɪᴏᴜsʟʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴘɪʟᴇᴅ ʙʏ ғɪᴇɴᴅ© Aʟʟ Rɪɢʜᴛs Rᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ Fɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜ Iɴᴄᴏʀᴘᴏʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴs
(view spoiler)
Dɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ: (view spoiler)
cross fire. She moved away, and she lost him.‟ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴜɴᴛ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴅᴏᴡɴ, ᴇᴠᴇɴ ɪғ ɪᴛ ᴋɪʟʟs ᴍᴇ „
That was roughly two years ago. Ryker had been forcibly removed from her presence, and she didn't like it. The demon within her was ready to murder every last soul, maim anyone with the slightest hint of the happiness she lost. She only manages to keep in check by burying it as far down as possible. She knows that she'll find him, or die trying.✖ ▌▸ ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟ ᴅɪsᴘʟᴀʏs, ʀᴇsᴛʀᴀɪɴᴛ, ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ʀᴀsʜ ᴅᴇᴄɪsɪᴏɴs
✔ ▌▸ sᴡᴏʀᴅᴘʟᴀʏ, ᴀᴄᴄᴜʀᴀᴄʏ, sᴛᴇᴀʟᴛʜ, sᴘᴇᴇᴅ
⇥ ʀᴀᴘɪᴇʀ [ɢɪғᴛ], ᴄʜɪɴᴇsᴇ ʀɪɴɢ ᴅᴀɢɢᴇʀs, .8ᴍᴍ ᴅᴜᴀʟ ᴘɪsᴛᴏʟs ᴡɪᴛʜ sɪʟᴇɴᴄᴇʀs, ᴀᴍᴍᴜɴɪᴛɪᴏɴ ғᴏʀ ᴘɪsᴛᴏʟs
█ ) R ᴇ ʟ ᴀ ᴛ ɪ ᴏ ɴ s ʜ ɪ ᴘ s
✘ ▌ Fᴀᴛʜᴇʀ - 〈 Aᴅᴏᴘᴛɪᴠᴇ 〉
▸ sᴛᴀᴛᴜs: Deceased ║ ᴀɢᴇ: 34 ║ ʟᴏᴠᴇ: ❤
↪ Kɪʟʟɪᴀɴ Dᴇᴍᴀʀᴄʜᴇ
✘ ▌ Mᴏᴛʜᴇʀ - 〈 Aᴅᴏᴘᴛɪᴠᴇ 〉
▸ sᴛᴀᴛᴜs: Alive ║ ᴀɢᴇ: ? ║ ʟᴏᴠᴇ: ❤
↪ Aᴀʀᴏɴɴᴀ Dᴇᴍᴀʀᴄʜᴇ
✘ ▌ Lᴏᴠᴇ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴇsᴛ - 〈 ♥ 〉
▸ sᴛᴀᴛᴜs: Alive ║ ᴀɢᴇ: 23 ║ ʟᴏᴠᴇ: ❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤❤
↪ Rʏᴋᴇʀ Tʀɪsᴋᴇ
⇡ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ ғʀᴏᴍ ᴀʙᴏᴠᴇ⇡➥ Tʜɪs ᴛᴇᴍᴘʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴍᴀʟɪᴄɪᴏᴜsʟʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴘɪʟᴇᴅ ʙʏ ғɪᴇɴᴅ© Aʟʟ Rɪɢʜᴛs Rᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ Fɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜ Iɴᴄᴏʀᴘᴏʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴs
(view spoiler)
Dɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ: (view spoiler)
‟ ᴛʜᴇʏ'ʟʟ ᴅʀᴀɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴜɴᴅᴇʀ ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ɪᴛ's ᴛᴏᴏ ʟᴀᴛᴇ „
Long before she was born, Israel's parents had been in the business of slaughter.
Her father was human, and any person who knew a demon had to know that he wasn't qualified to so much as look at the high level demon her mother was. That is, until they saw just how much chaos he could cause. He had an aversion to human beings, but and affinity for human flesh. A combination like that was bound to draw attention to him, especially when he had begun to pursue what he so desired. When he happened upon a demon over his latest marked prey, he was pissed and impressed all at once.
It just so happened that the woman he'd come to fall in love with was a leader of many hellish creatures. In place of having a child of their own, her mother placed a soul within an infant and let it go from there. Her peers found her to be lacking in many ways, and as any young demon would, tortured her endlessly. That was how it was for her until she turned eight. Her body matured faster than those around her, and she looked more as if she were sixteen than eight. She was getting faster, stronger, better than the rest.
And then she developed an appetite for more than life force.Word reached her parents faster than she'd thought. The stranger thing in this, besides her obvious tendency of cannibalism, was that her parents were proud. They'd suspected that she was one of those abominations for a long time, the kind that was all for the safety of humans. (They were actually very right in that regard because the demon she ate had been attacking a human girl.) So, for her to display some sort of horrendous tendency was like her growing out of a moody phase. She was happy they approved, but kept the motives for her meals under wraps.The bloody mound of flesh in her hands glistened in the light. She blinked, obsidian seeping into her eyes. Standing upright, Israel noted that she was slightly taller than the red haired female before her. She could smell the chemicals in her hair, stinging at her nostrils. She snorted lightly, glancing over the girl once more."The fuck are you doing!?"
"What's it look like; eating."
The girl took a step back, eyes wide with anger and terror. Israel wasn't sure what she could say as the demonic spawn flung herself towards the door. She only knew that there would be more of them coming back, and that she was so terribly hungry. She blinked again, her eyes returning to normal as she turned her attention back to the husk of a corpse. It wasn't human, she reminded herself vaguely, it was a demon. The grotesque twisting of the limbs had been her doing, when she'd taken the first bite. It was still squirming then, fighting against the ravenous creature that stood over it now.
There was a banging behind her, the door opening again. She continued to stare down at the body as they pulled her back. Thirst and hunger gnawed at her insides, turning everything topsy-turvy. She could still taste the sweet copper and sulfur on her tongue, still feel the pull of flesh against her lips and teeth. Her captors shoot jeers and rebukes as she let herself be dragged away.
They were next, anyways.
She became notorious, a villain among villains. Her parents basked in the glory of her fame while she rotted into despair. She wasn't sure how much longer she'd be able to go on with the ruse of being so bad, but she continued no less. However, she began to change her dietary habits to that of a human. The change went unnoticed, as her parents had assumed it simply part of her adjusting to a new life in her time to wreck havoc on the Chinese Triad within the area. It went smoothly, as it usually did for her, until her parents realized what was going on. At least, she assumed they'd only recently caught on, when really they'd known for some time.Her parents didn't let her go without a fight. They had made their choice, just as she had made hers. She felt nothing when she shoved the sword down her father throat, or when she swung it towards her mother. She saw red, and heard a hollow nothing. She was made to move on autopilot, instinct taking over. Fight or flight; life or death.She realized too late what they were implying. She didn't notice that this was the stop they'd used before to execute one of the kin before. They were two stories up, high enough for her to fall and do some minor damage. Her pulse raced as she glanced around, spotting the dark figures of her kin slinking through the shadows as the sun set. The orange-gold rays cast a fiery glow to the scene, heightening the glowing of eyes as they observed her coldly."You're too dangerous to have around."
"You've got to be joking; I'm harmless!"
Her first instinct was to plead with them, but she knew that would only make her seem weak. The next was to talk her way out, but she had never been one of the cunning and sly demons. She was all physical, a mess of pain, blood, and death. She counted the number of adversaries silently, trembling when she stopped. These were all demons who had been part of her family, the family that was going to kill her.
There, in the fading light, she made her choice. They no longer wanted her, and were going to rid themselves of the threat she posed. She had never been like them, and now she would make her escape like she'd always dreamed. At fifteen years old, she was capable of this endeavor, she realized. She'd make it. With this renewed hope, a hope she'd thought had left her, she attacked.
When it was over, she began to feel the pain of the wounds she was given, both mentally and physically. Her mother and her family were gone, leaving her father and the corpses behind. They had declared vengeance before fleeing, before turning tail and running. Blood dripped down her face, covering her eyes. She had to close them to keep them clear, blinking constantly as she staggered away.
She was marked as a target, a wanted woman.The war started the same year she ran away.‟ ʟɪғᴇ ɪs ʙᴜᴛ ᴀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ, ᴀ ɴɪɢʜᴛᴍᴀʀᴇ ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ғʀᴏᴍ „
She had been too wrapped up in her own problems to notice that people were dying, that there was so much bloodshed. She assumed it was her mother coming after her, killing everyone she came into contact with. She restricted her movements to the night, sticking close to the shadows as she had always been taught in times like these. That was how she got her first glimpse of the war.
She realized that they were soldiers, moving in unison to attempt to take down the threats those of supernatural origins posed. She was caught in a turbulent war of her own, deciding on who she would even so much as dare to save, or who she would leave for dead. She let this war continue, until she was caught.The soldier took several steps back, and his comrades filled in the space he left behind. She could see the set fear and determination, and she recognized it. It must have been on her own face. She was going to leave unscathed, she told herself, she would leave them alone and be on her way. That didn't seem likely, though. Not with the way they pointing their weapons at her. They were set on watching her die, watching her bleed out. Or they were going to try to get information she didn't have out of her. One of them moved forward, and her attention snapped over to him."Holy fuck! Sir, it's a demon; they sent one!"
She could see, she noted with horror, how young he was. They must have gotten desperate, she supposed, because he looked as old as she might have been. Two years had passed since the start of the war, and the humans were losing. Even she, who tried to stay out of it as much as possible, knew they were going to lose. She locked eyes with him, almost pleading with him. He wavered, lowering his gun. Shooting a glance over to his comrades, she realized he was on her side. Or, at least didn't want to kill her as much as the others.
He pulled back his helmet, lifted his gun skyward, and shot into the air. His comrades, distracted, looked up at him quickly. It was all the time she needed to escape, and so she did.
A month passed, and she found him again. He wasn't on the usual patrol, or any at all. He was a civilian now, stripped of his duty for possible cause of insanity. Or at least that was what he told her to make her feel better. Her never explained why they had to keep hiding, or why he was even with her. She knew that there was something about him that she couldn't quite explain. Something that she had never quite felt before. She only learned it was love when he professed the same emotion towards her a year after they had begun traveling together.
The two of them were happy, content even with having to be on the run. They were together, and that was all that mattered. They worried about nothing until it was imminent, cried only for one another. They moved as a single being, working in a terrifying unison. Until she lost him.He gave her one last grin before taking off, hand raised in a short wave. He hadn't been gone for more than five minutes before she heard it. The scraping of metal, the stomping of feet, the clicking of guns as they were being prepared. Their safe house had been breached, and they'd have to move. She went through the drill they'd done so many times before, shoving essentials into bags."If anything happens, you know what to do."
"Be safe; I'll be right back, promise."
She realized that Ryker was still out there. He was armed, but outnumbered. He was human, and he would die. This epiphany made her blood run cold, and violence suddenly seemed like an appealing thing to let loose. But the footsteps soon moved on. They most have found Ryker, she noted, and gave chase to them. She watched as they swarmed him, his face set in a grim mask of rage and worry, his eyes doing a wild dance as they searched for any sign that they might have hurt her. He glanced up and locked eyes with her, and that was the last she saw of him before they knocked him out.
She hadn't dared to scream, afraid he would be killed in any
⇣ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ⇣
➥ Tʜɪs ᴛᴇᴍᴘʟᴀᴛᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴍᴀʟɪᴄɪᴏᴜsʟʏ ᴄᴏᴍᴘɪʟᴇᴅ ʙʏ ғɪᴇɴᴅ© Aʟʟ Rɪɢʜᴛs Rᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ Fɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜ Iɴᴄᴏʀᴘᴏʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴs(view spoiler)
Dɪsᴄʟᴀɪᴍᴇʀ: (view spoiler)
‟ ʏᴏᴜ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪs ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ʏᴏᴜ, ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛ's ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ᴛᴡɪsᴛᴇᴅ ᴛʜᴀɴ ʏᴏᴜ'ᴅ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ „‹ ＩＳＲＡＥＬ ＣＡＰＲＩＣＥ ＤＥＭＡＲＣＨＥ ›☱ Israel is a Biblical given name. The patriarch Jacob was given the name Israel (Hebrew: יִשְׂרָאֵל, Standard Yisraʾel Tiberian Yiśrāʾēl; "Triumphant with God", "who prevails with God") after he wrestled with the angel (Genesis 32:28 and 35:10) The name already occurs in Eblaite and Ugaritic texts as a common name. Commentators differ on the original literal meaning. Some say the name comes from the verb śarar ("to rule, be strong, have authority over"), thereby making the name mean "God rules" or "God judges". Other possible meanings include "the prince of God" (from the King James Version) or "El fights/struggles". "The Jewish Study Bible" of Oxford University Press says on page 68 "The scientific etymology of Israel is uncertain, a good guess being '[The God] El rules.'" Jacob's descendants came to be known as the Israelites, eventually forming the tribes of Israel and ultimately the kingdom of Israel, from whence the name of modern day Israel.
☲ Caprice as a girl's name is pronounced ka-PREESE. It is of English, French and Italian origin, and the meaning of Caprice is "whimsical, playful". From Italian "capriccio" which originally referred to a feeling of horror causing the hair to stand on end (in Italian "capo riccio", meaning "hedgehog head"). The word later became associated with Italian "capra", referring to the goat, an animal whose sudden changes in direction and jumps indicate capriciousness. Also hence the musical term.
☴ Demarche has come to refer either to a line of action; move; countermove; maneuver, esp. in diplomatic relations, or formal diplomatic representation of the official position, views, or wishes on a given subject from one government to another government or intergovernmental organization.
‹ ᴅᴇᴍᴏɴ-ʜᴜᴍᴀɴ ʜʏʙʀɪᴅ | ☩ | ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ | ☩ | 21 ›
Pʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴏғ ʙɪʀᴛʜ|| Harlem, New York
Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ ʙɪʀᴛʜ|| Januaryd Third, Twelve Eleven PM
Zᴏᴅɪᴀᴄ sɪɢɴ|| ♑ Capricon(view spoiler)
Sᴇxᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ|| Pansexual :: sexual attraction, sexual desire, romantic love, or emotional attraction toward people of all gender identities and biological sexes.
Rᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘ sᴛᴀᴛᴜs|| Single :: Open to RequestsBɪᴏʟᴏɢɪᴄᴀʟ ᴡᴇʙʙɪɴɢ⇥ Demon
(view spoiler)
⇥ Human
(view spoiler)
( ғᴀᴄᴇ ᴄʟᴀɪᴍ :: Shanina Shaik )▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ ▅▅ ▅▅ ▅▅ ▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▪ Israel can confidently say that she doesn't like her appearance half as much as people would like to believe. She isn't fixated on her looks, either. However, most view the physical portion of things to be more appealing than most.
▪ Reaching a point of five feet and five inches, she's about average height or so. Her weight is just about as equal to average at a nice hundred and thirty pounds. She's rather slender, in all respects. While she isn't a buxom young lady, she makes for that with impeccable legs and a face of gold. Narrow shoulders lead up into a somewhat short neck that ends in an ovoid visage.
▪ Israel has a somewhat dark skin pigmentation. While she is still light skinned, it's quite clear that she is of a Middle-Eastern descent. Her features are smooth and round. Glossy black tendrils of hair slide down to just past her shoulders, framing her face in delicate curls. Her lips are a light shade of blush, though a little pale. Her oculars are a hazy brown hue towards the pupils, but spread out into a blurred and dull dirty green color.
▪ Her voice is low and soft, and you might have trouble hearing her speak. She isn't one to raise her voice either, so for her words to be heard with a distinctive accent, you have to lean in close. While this may not be the most desired situation for her, she's still working on changing it.☛ Stands at five feet and five inches
☛ Weighs roughly a hundred and thirty pounds
☛ Hair is glossy black
☛ Skin has a somewhat dark skin pigmentation
☛ Vocally is low and soft
☛ An added mark is a jagged scar from left eyebrow to right cheek
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅ ▅▅ ▅▅ ▅▅ ▅▅ ▅▅ ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▪ The entirety of her style is a reflection of both her position and militant views. Most of her clothing is made from materials that are light-weight, and are constructed in a manner that allows for freed movement. She prefers pants and boots, decked with uniform jackets and tops, as well as the occasional weapon.
There will come a time, however, in which she dons clothing that is slightly more relaxed. Then, she picks grungy prints and patterns with bracelets galore, but still maintains a certain air of authority.✦ █ Sᴛᴏɪᴄ | ᴍᴇᴛʜᴏᴅɪᴄ | ɢʀᴀᴄᴇғᴜʟʟʏ ᴀɢɢʀᴇssɪᴠᴇ | ᴏᴠᴇʀ-ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ | ᴇᴍᴏᴛɪᴏɴᴀʟʟʏ ᴄᴏɴsᴛɪᴘᴀᴛᴇᴅ
‟ ɪ'ᴍ sᴛᴀʀᴛɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ғᴇᴇʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴜɴɢᴇᴏɴ ᴅʀᴀɢᴏɴ „Lacking in the emotional department has always been an easy point for Israel. She's very good at hiding them, usually keeping it all bottled up or having none of them at all. Some might remark that she seems more like a robot than an actual living being, and she's completely fine with that comparison. Although, she might be slightly confused, since her sense of pretty much everything might seem a little different to everyone around her.
Israel likes to do things certain way. She has a strict routine to how she works through out the day, but also has a particular way of dealing with any issues that may arise. It's borderline strategic in a very rigid sort of way, with very little flexibility for changes. One could say that this is an asset to her position, allowing her to get through problems in a second, with little to no effort.
Putting it simply, there's a grace to her manner of aggression. She isn't outright physical with her aggression, but she isn't limited exclusively to her words, either. There's a physicality to her wording that just...intimidates. Actually, gracefully aggressive is just the pretty term some soldiers use to describe how completely intimidating she is to them.
There's always been a big sisterly, or motherly, way to how protective Israel is. She's bent on keeping a select few people safe, and often times, she knows how excessive she's being. Her robot like emotion settings just go haywire when she realizes that someone might be worth looking after, and hence has her in a mode of protectiveness that kind of crowds people's spaces. She's not the best with her emotions, and it's simply her way of showing that she cares in any way.
Emotional displays are not Israel's forte. She, in fact, has the worst case of emotional backup that anyone could have. Her way of showing someone that she cares is usually by watching them for several days before giving a handcrafted weapon that can maim and/or kill, even if the person has no clue how to use it. Those moments when feelings are supposed to be shared are passed off by a confused expression, or just her having some excuse to leave. Really, emotions are hard for her to work with.
⇣ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴇᴅ ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ⇣
Okie doke. Davey it is~I'll make his character next
YAYWhich guy do you want of mine?
Oh, well, I'll make a girl ^-^
I'll ask
Els: I'll be here if you need to talk to me about it ^-^Are we going for another gay couple, or are we gonna be straight? I don't really care which~
O.ODANKE I SHAN'T LET YOU DOWN.
How are the genders?
Els: YES TO EVAN. I know the feel of parents bickering. That's all mine seem to do these days.
Oh, shoot, I would have liked to make a hybrid :/ oh, well.
Els: fucking hell T^TJen: I saw your ghost; he's super beastly
ELS
WHOOP WHOOP
I make a character, that's how ;)
May I make a demon?
Jen: Nothing much~You?
YES I DID
