Character Creation

[[deleted user]]

It was clear from the start that he adored school. He took to it like butter did bread. He was good at it. He wasn't bullied. He was even popular. He was smart, but he was not incredibly so. He was more geared to creation, loving art and music and writing the most out of any of his subjects. His brother was knowledge, but Taslyn was creation and experimentation. He wasn't happy unless he was trying something or doing something hands-on. It never bothered him that his brother was years ahead of him. He was a genius of a different kind.

It was because of his passion to always try new things that he ended up joining too many clubs on things he knew very, very little about. He was often stressed by this and stopped attending most clubs quickly. By the time he was thirteen, the only club he was still part of was the writer's club. It was because of his writer's club that he developed his love of writing like he did. He always wanted to have a new piece to show to the club. At first they'd only be a thousand words each, but every week, they got gradually longer and longer. Everyone loved his writing, and their compliments could put a smile on his face like nothing else.

Thirteen was not an interesting year. Fourteen was. Fourteen was when he got a boyfriend named Danny Artemian. Danny Artemian was a short-enough relationship -- Taslyn ended that when he realized that Danny was for the city council because he actually liked it. Taslyn was kind of grossed out by that. But that did not compare to how he felt later that year when he came home to find Adrienne and Meryn having sex on the couch. He gasped and fled the room, shocked and horrified. He came home really late that night.

He could feel the heat of Meryn's glare for the next few days. He could feel the challenge, how Meryn almost wanted him to say something negative so he could just punch Taslyn and the face and be justified for it. Adrienne wasn't angry, but she looked nervous, mousy in a way that Taslyn would not have imagined possible for all those same days. Neither would talk to him, but they'd often stand in corners, conversing between themselves and casting nervous glances in his direction.

Five days it took before he finally approached both of them and told them they were all going to have a nice, long conversation about what had happened. Taslyn told them he did not approve but that he was not going to stop them. This did not stop him from performing excessive amounts of third-wheeling. He could tell they were rather frustrated at the fact they rarely had any time together where he was not supervising. It made him feel a little better about it. But, of course, he could not be there all the time no matter how much he tried.

And a few months after his and Kelso's fifteenth birthday, he found that he didn't want to spend all his time with Adrienne and Meryn anymore anyway. The police stormed a resistance rally he helped to organize. He grabbed the people he could and fled. He found Meryn, a couple other teenagers, and a student from his school, a girl named Olivia Macaslan. She took charge with him. And when the police found them, she pushed him to the ground and took a bullet for him. She survived, but she was in the hospital for days. It reconfirmed for him exactly how horrid the city council was.

But something else happened for him that day, too. He met the girl with whom he would fall in love.

For the next week, Taslyn would visit her in the hospital when not at school and learn more about her life instead of doing resistance-related stuff. He started spending all his free time with her, whether doing things for the resistance or no. He talked about her constantly at home. He was completely in love with her when he asked her out when he turned sixteen. And the feeling was mutual. Their relationship moved rather quickly, and they were as fiercely loyal to each other as they were to the resistance. Taslyn never told his family she was his girlfriend (though they considered themselves more than that), and they all assumed that he and Olivia were just friends.

Olivia supported him when his family went to hell. His mother walked in one day to find pregnancy tests from his sister. Hysterical, Adrienne came to Taslyn and claimed that their parents were hysterical and going to try to force her to say who had done that. Taslyn tried his best to cover for her -- he even gave her a story, claiming that Adrienne was with Olivia's elder brother. However, when their parents investigated, they realized that both Taslyn and Adrienne had lied. They forced Adrienne to reveal that it was Meryn.

Adrienne and Meryn were separated -- Adrienne allowed to stay at home because she was so involved in the resistance. Meryn was sent to live with friends in the Heart of the City, where he would be presumably okay. And physically, he was. But he could not deal with what happened, and Taslyn was surprised to see Kelso not actually still being near Meryn. The family was in tatters. And while Taslyn had never seen family as important as the resistance, he still cared deeply. So he decided to make it so that his siblings could visit one another.

He made an entire plan for it. And his plan worked. His two siblings got their visit. However, Meryn was not the Meryn with which Taslyn had grown up. He was furious, and he struck Adrienne's cheek hard enough for it to bruise. Taslyn dragged Meryn away despite the fact the younger brother was kicking and screaming. He left a scar from his biting Taslyn. Taslyn got Adrienne out, and Adrienne did not try to see her former lover ever again. Taslyn had wanted the pair to stop, but he had not wanted it to be this much of a mess. He thought this was the definition of the phrase: Be careful what you wish for lest it come true.

The next few years weren't totally rubbish, however. Taslyn and Olivia became increasingly closer until they agreed they'd be together forever but never marry. It was classic by all of Taslyn's books. When he was twenty, he moved in with Olivia. Neither of them worked; the resistance gave them enough money to live on and they did numerous dangerous tasks for the resistance. Taslyn worked on propaganda for them, and he was good at it.

But then, his world fell apart all at once. Only a few hours after his twin went to go see his daughter being born, Taslyn got a call of his own: he had to come to the resistance headquarters . . .

. . .to see his sister's "trial" and execution.

Taslyn could never remember having gone as fast as he did that day, and he could not believe the call until he was there himself. He made it in time for the trial, the trial which was such a mockery of justice. There was no real evidence that his sister had, as they said, worked for the city council. Besides, he knew she would never ever do that. But they sentenced her to die anyway. Taslyn fought to get over to her, to free her, and he got scars for it. But it was Olivia that held him back as he watched his sister die. He was beside himself. He never realized it was a faked death.

He sank to the floor and did not react to anything anyone said for three whole days. And then he did. Olivia tried to come in to talk to him, and he tried to kill her. He had his hands around her neck, and she fell to the floor. He thought she was dead. And he walked away from his whole life, not realizing he left his still-living girlfriend on the floor or that she had been pregnant with his kid. He made himself as busy as he could manage. He talked to none of his family members for another whole day, through which he made all the preparations for his sister's funeral.

The first person he talked to was Kelso, but Taslyn was unresponsive -- until Kelso said he understood. The ensuing argument resulted in their not seeing each other for years and not communicating except for the occasional text message. Taslyn did, however, keep in contact with Genevieve, his brother's wife, and Taslyn always asked her to tell him about both his twin brother and Aysha.

But the argument with Kelso was not the worst part of that day. The talk with Meryn was because Taslyn then learned the truth of his two siblings, a truth he was horrified by. At first, Adrienne had forced herself on Meryn, starting from a rather young age. But Meryn . . . Meryn had grown to like it, and it had given him his sense of worth, something he could achieve in no other way. And when it had all stopped . . . . Meryn had spiralled down. Taslyn was horrified with his sister's actions because somehow he just knew Meryn was telling the truth. He didn't blame his youngest brother for becoming a city council spy or for becoming a stripper somewhere in the depths of the Slums. He did blame himself for not stopping it all when he had first found out. Taslyn and Meryn ended up back on speaking terms and having a more friendly relationship than they had had in five years.

And so Taslyn learned to live with guilt, or at least, he tried. He wasn't able to deal with killing the woman he loved, with the resistance's betrayal, and the despicable acts of his sister. So he turned to alcohol, becoming a drunkard and an author all at once. He wrote terrible things, things about how all the world deserved to end. Most of it he burned. Taslyn was a broken shell of a person, and he didn't want to keep going. Five nights before his twenty-seventh birthday, the night Taslyn had planned to end it all, he saw something horrible on the news.

The building where his brother's wife had worked was bombed three days previously. Taslyn put down the knife and walked to his brother's house. Slowly, of course. He was rather dreading what would happen when he showed up. He was wrong to have been afraid. He found his brother's daughter confused and his brother sitting on the couch in shock. He recognized the shock from the way he had been the first few days after Adrienne's death. He didn't try to make Kelso react. He just made sure he didn't die of dehydration or starvation or of his own lack of will to live without his wife. And Taslyn took care of his twin's daughter.

And Taslyn decided to live.

He started to hang out with his brother increasingly often. He even bonded with his brother's daughter to the point where he almost wished he had one of his own. But when he left their house, it was hard for him not to fall back into that depression. Kelso and Aysha and Meryn he now viewed as a good in a completely evil world. But it was hard for him not to think them evil, too, and on those days, he'd not answer calls. But overall, he became more functional as a person from his restored relationship with his brother. He could even write dark stories instead of dark things he'd rather no one see.

But as this happened, he decided that both the city council and the resistance were the true evil, and he decided he wanted to do something about it. So he started to form a plot to destroy both. Bomb each's headquarters. But he could tell no one his plans, but he has started doing research into bombs.

And then, he could start his plan . . . .

"Why did you betray me like that? Now there is nothing."

[gabbu]

"You seem very desperate. Too bad I don't feel like helping."



| Nᴀᴍᴇ | Lucien Francis Ribault
| Aʟɪᴀsᴇs ᴏʀ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs |
| Aɢᴇ | 63
| Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ | February 29th
| Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ | 14:38
| Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ | Male
| Sᴇxᴜᴀʟ Oʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | Heterosexual
| Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs | Not looking for a relationship



"And it is my responsibility to keep shitheads like you from disturbing the very delicate balance those of us on the Council have created."


| Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ | The Council
| Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | Council member
| Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs | Lucien tends to bury himself so much in his work that he doesn't have time for hobbies. The closest he comes to enjoying himself outside of council-required activities are when he's making speeches at schools and the like advocating for the council.


| Wʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ Dᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ | Fairly tall and dark-skinned, he wears an eyepatch over his left eye to cover a particularly gruesome scar. He shaves the hair on top of his head, but keeps a goatee.
| Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ | 6'2
| Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ | Samuel L. Jackson


"Care to repeat that? This time, open wide so I can shove this bullet down your throat."

| Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ |
Lucien is very brash and doesn't generally spend a lot of time thinking things through. This isn't to say what he does is unsuccessful - most would agree it was quite the opposite. Those who didn't, Lucien would probably shoot.

However, there are some things Lucien is very particular about - one of those being the need for control. Not in the sense of having things orderly. Lucien could care less about being orderly as long as he was in charge. The very thought of the resistance, the thought that the council isn't entirely in power, irks him to his core. Lucien tends to be extremely serious and a word spoken against him or his cause could mean the end of your life if he's in reach of a weapon. And Lucien goes anywhere without a weapon.

Lucien expresses very few emotions around most people, but when he's around his family (or, currently, who he considers his family) something inside of him softens up ever-so slightly. He's still crueler than what would be considered usual, he still lacks sympathy, and he still acts rashly, but he would do almost anything to protect them.

| Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ |
Lucien's parents, prior to their demise, were very adamant resistance supporters. They died the way they believed was the best, supporting their cause. Their passion was passed on to their son - just probably not in the way they hoped. As he was brought to the orphanage and exposed to council propaganda at a very young age, Lucien came to realize that his parents had no idea what they'd done by supporting the resistance and became determine to amend their wrong. After leaving the orphanage, he met (and eventually married) Frankie. He cared deeply for her, and their opposing dispositions helped them balance each other out. They had a daughter named Piper and a son named Jean. Shortly after Jean was born, Lucien was given a position on the council.

Then, while walking their son home from school, Lucien and his family were attacked.

A group of what Lucien suspects were resistance members came at them, way too many for Lucien to handle. The group managed to kill his wife and son, but permanently blinding Lucien in his left eye was the best they could do before the authorities came. Thankfully, Piper was over at a friend's house, so she was affected, but Lucien was still bitter about the lives that had been lost.Ever since then, Lucien's hatred for the resistance festered (even though he had no evidence to prove it was the resistance that had killed most of his family). Without Frankie there to stop him, Lucien threw himself into his work in the hopes of completely eradicating all who stood against the council.

It was about a week after when Lucien met Aurora.

He'd heard of a family providing the resistance with information and made plans to get rid of them. The family included at least two younger children that Lucien knew of, but he knew better than to leave survivors (regardless of age). Though, his opinion changed when he came to double-check the work of the man he'd hired to do the job. The older girl - who was around three or four if Lucien's intel was any good (which it always was) - was sitting there, sobbing over the body of what Lucien assumed was her brother. He cocked his weapon, but the gaze of the little girl reminded him too much of the son he'd so recently lost and the daughter he might have had she been with them. He couldn't do it. Lucien comforted the little girl, (who'd told him her name was Aurora but he could call her Rora) and took her under his wing. Lucien saw Rora's appearance as a sign that he could do better for her and Piper, maybe even make up for the loss of his wife and youngest child. And it wasn't a chance he was willing to screw up.

Lucien became very fond of Rora as time passed, and even more fond of the ever-growing potential he saw in her. His fondness for her surpassed that of the love he felt for his own daughter. No matter how well either of them did, he pressured them to do more, more, more. While a bit harsh, this style of teaching made Rora the best of the best in Lucien's mind - and compliments weren't something he was all too eager to hand out. It had done quite the opposite for Piper, but Lucien could somewhat deal with her mediocrity - as long as she didn't do anything to mar his reputation. Lucien believed that while he'd done his best for Piper, there wasn't much else he could do. Instead, he'd focus on what he had done. He'd made Rora great, he'd made the council great, and combined they'd be unstoppable.


"I'm guessing you haven't met me."

Family:
>> Frankie Ribault ; wife ; dead
>> Jean Ribault ; son ; dead
>> Piper Ribault ; daughter ; 21


"You think the Resistance will make you free?"




│ Lɪᴋᴇs │
☻ Success
☻ Power
☻ Being in control of a situation
☻ Finishing things quickly

│ Dɪsʟɪᴋᴇs │
☹ The resistance
☹ Discussing the past
☹ Showing feelings
☹ Taking orders

│ Sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜs │
✮ Good (albeit harsh) teacher
✮ Confidence
✮ Efficient decision maker
✮ Getting the job done

│ Wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇssᴇs │
☆ Takes things too seriously
☆ Lacks sympathy
☆ Doesn't always think things through
☆ Can't work with others

│ Fᴇᴀʀs │
✗ Losing Aurora like he lost the rest of his family
✗ The resistance winning
✗ Being kicked off the council

[gabbu]

"Okay then - fine. While you pretend that there isn't a war going on right outside our goddamned doorstep, I'll do something more realistic, like go ride a fucking unicorn."


| Nᴀᴍᴇ | Emilie Rose Jansing
| Aʟɪᴀsᴇs ᴏʀ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs | Alexis Voclaire (used to be Em or Emmy with family with close friends)
| Aɢᴇ | 17
| Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ | July 12th
| Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ | 04:57
| Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ | Female
| Sᴇxᴜᴀʟ Oʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | Homosexual
| Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs | Single



"I would suggest running. Quickly."


| Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ | Disagrees with council and resistance but finds rebelling more entertaining
| Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | Several on-and-off again jobs (including: picking up shifts at the Light Moon's, street performances, selling her artwork, and when she has the resources, selling drugs, etc)
| Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs | drawing and (though she doesn't have as much time for it) dance


| Wʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ Dᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ | Her brown hair falls in loose ringlets about chest-length and her (also) brown eyes have had bags underneath them for as long as she can remember.
| Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ | 5'6
| Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ | Alice Englert


"The Council is shit. The Resistance is shit. People are shit. Everything's shit - it's unavoidable. In my opinion, we should all just do who and what we want and keep the shittiness to a minimum."

| Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ |
As a kid, though Emilie wasn't above average grades wise, she always excelled in areas regarding the arts. She was extremely creative and (while her father didn't really approve) took almost every chance she got to prove it. After Devon and her ran away, she didn't really have as much of a chance to express her talents - especially after Devon left. Things sort of went downhill after that. Emilie formed a protective shell around herself during her time on the streets, and even after the orphanage took her in was still reluctant to talk to anyone. Meeting Annika, though - that changed things.

While most of the innocence Emilie had when she was younger disappeared, her friendship with Emilie brought back all the parts about herself she'd missed: the dancing, the pictures, the music. She became much more open about her opinions (which are strongly worded to say the least) and much more bold.

Nowadays, while Emilie isn't quite as open as she was before Annika died, she still isn't afraid to speak her mind. She does tend to be more abrasive around strangers and is quick to dismiss opinions different from her own. Emilie doesn't care much for most people and finds both the council and the resistance to be terrible ideas. She's done a lot to go against both of these groups and has almost been arrested on several occasions because of it.


| Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ |
Emilie never faced the abuse of her father - Devon bore the brunt of that - but even she realized how bad it was. Emilie had always felt terrible about what Devon put up with for her by taking a majority of their father's hits, so when she and Devon ran away she was beyond happy. She knew their situation was bad (being that they were young and on the streets) but she figured as long as her and Devon stuck together that it'd all work out in the end. And it did work out. Until Devon left.

Emilie doesn't know why Devon left. She knows that at one point, Devon (who at the time was going by Gavin) had a girlfriend. There was also something else Devon seemed to be suspicious of, but he never really explained. One day, he was there. The next he wasn't.

For a month or so, Emilie attempted living on her own. She was positive Devon was going to come back, she just needed to give it more time. After a bit, the food and money Devon had left ran out, and that was when Emilie knew it was time to move on. While she is still a bit bitter about it, she's got bigger problems at the moment and has put it mostly behind her. She knew her best option would be the orphanage, and that's where she went. She started a lot of trouble with her dislike of the council (probably started by her father's treatment of her brother) and while this mostly served to isolate her from the rest of the group, one girl still spoke to Emilie. Her name was Annika.

Annika and Emilie soon became practically inseparable. Even after leaving the orphanage (they ran away together at fifteen), they continued to live together, taking several jobs in order to pay for the rent, and they talked about everything. They were there for each others' first jobs, first drinks, first kisses, first smokes; pretty much everything. The pair exchanged stories - Emilie even told Annika her real name.

When they were sixteen, Emilie realized something absolutely awful. She didn't just like Annika. No, it was much more than that. Emilie was in love.

Just as Emilie was working up the courage to admit this to Annika, Annika announced that she was pregnant with the child of someone she'd met maybe two weeks ago, but swore was true love. It wasn't, and by the time Annika started showing, the boy was long out of the picture. Emilie put her feelings aside and agreed to help Annika with her baby. Emilie started selling some of her drawings and even helping an acquaintance of hers from the orphanage with a drug deal to help Annika pay for the visit to the hospital for when she was due. Before Emilie and Annika could get together the money they needed (they were under the impression they still had maybe another month or so before the baby would be coming), Annika's water broke. They were under-funded and under-prepared, and Annika died in childbirth (not before getting to see and name her child - a girl, Katerina). This left Emilie heartbroken - she'd just watched her best friend die right in front of her eyes - and with a baby to provide for. While Emilie didn't know much about nicknames, she knew that Annika had discussed on several occasions several variations of her future child's potential name, and Emilie recalled Katya being a favorite nickname of hers. So, Emilie began to do/take more jobs that allowed her to remain with Katya (more drawings, performances, and drug deals, less factory and waitressing). This put Emilie in quite the financial bind, but she refuses to give up on raising Katya (mainly out of respect for maintaining Annika's memory, as Emilie is almost entirely clueless when it comes to raising a child and trusts no one else enough to help her).



"You must be the special kind of stupid."

Family:
>>Zeric Jansing; father; dead for ten years; unknown faceclaim
>>Leanne Jansing; mother; dead for fourteen years; unknown faceclaim
>>Devon Jansing; brother; alive; twenty-four; ❆♠ēlงiຖค ໓rคkē♠❆; Andrew Garfield



"Let's get one thing straight: there are very few people still alive that I care about and you're definitely not one of them."



│ Lɪᴋᴇs │
☻ Small children (mainly ones that can't talk)
☻ Animals
☻ Drawing (which she's pretty good at)
☻ Fire

│ Dɪsʟɪᴋᴇs │
☹ The resistance and the council
☹ Selfishness
☹ People (in general)
☹ Ungratefulness

│ Sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜs │
✮ Getting into - and winning - arguments (often ones involving some act of violence)
✮ Bluntness
✮ Determination
✮ Intimidating and surprising people

│ Wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇssᴇs │
☆ Very judgmental of everyone
☆ Lack of trust
☆ Reading between the lines
☆ Has almost no filter

│ Fᴇᴀʀs │
✗ Not being able to raise Katya properly
✗ Loneliness
✗ Spiders



"My brother abandoned me to live on my own when I was twelve and not four years later the girl I loved who didn't love me back died in front of my eyes and left me with her baby. I've had my fair share of shit dealt to me, and your life's probably pretty shitty too, but you've gotta keep your chin up. It's little moments like these that make fucked up situations seem less fucked up."

[ӍдѕҞa]

"I have the best daddy in the world, he’s always there for me so I have to be there for him."

Ｂａｓｉｃｓ
│ Nᴀᴍᴇ │ Aysha Bellflower Bran
│ Nᴀᴍᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ │
(view spoiler)[ Aysha- Prosperous[Arabic]
Bellflower- a flower
Bran- Raven[Welsh]
(hide spoiler)]
│Aʟɪᴀsᴇs │ N/A
│ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ │ Little Bell, Ysha, Bell.



│ Aɢᴇ │ 6
│ Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ │ March 16th
│ Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ │ 3:25am
│ Pʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ │ Hospital
│ Zᴏᴅɪᴀᴄ │ Pisces
(view spoiler)[Your element: Water
Your ruling planets: Neptune
Symbol: The Fish
Your stone: Bloodstone
Life Pursuit: To avoid feeling alone and instead feel connected to others and the world at large
Vibration: Erratic Energy levels
Pisces Secret Desire: To live their dreams and turn fantasies into realities.
(hide spoiler)]



│ Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ Rᴏʟᴇ │ Feminine
│ Bɪʀᴛʜ Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ │ Female
│ Sᴇxᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ │ Asexual
│ Pʀᴇsᴇɴᴛ Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs │ Single
│ Pᴀsᴛ Rᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘs │ N/A



│ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ Sᴏɴɢ: │ N/A
│ ᴍᴏDᴇ ᴏғ Tʀᴀɴsᴘᴏʀᴛɪᴏɴ: │



│ Fᴀᴍɪʟʏ │
│ Pᴀʀᴇɴᴛs │
Name Genevieve Sofia Bran
Relation » Mother |◦ 26 » ◦| Status » Deceased
|Image|: (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]

Name Kelso Daemyn Bran
Relation » Father |◦ 29 » ◦| Status » Alive
|Image|: (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]

│ Sɪʙʟɪɴɢs │
N/A

│Pᴇᴛs│
Gaia{Given by Adrienne}:

NightLock{Given by Taslyn}:




"I may act calm and okay, but sometimes I just curl up with my dad and cry. I miss my mom and I know he misses her too"


Ａｐｐｅａｒａｎｃｅ
│ Iᴍᴀɢᴇ │



│ Hᴀɪʀ │ Brown
│ Eʏᴇs │ Green
│ Cᴏᴍᴘʟᴇxɪᴏɴ │ Pale, many freakles.
│ Bᴜɪʟᴅ │ Baby Fat, thin, 3'8"
│ Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ │ ~Whoever She Is~
│ Dɪsɢᴜɪsɪɴɢ ᴍᴀʀᴋɪɴɢs│
Scar[From bonking it on her headboard]:




"I love lizards, they’re so cute! Don’t you think so daddy?"




Ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌ
│ Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕ │ - - - - - -
│ Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕│ - - - - - -
│ Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs﹕│ Reading/ Playing/ Drawing/ Hanging with her dad.



”Daddy always said beauty is in the eye of the beholder, but whether something is beautiful to other people shouldn’t matter as long as you like it.”



│ Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ │
Aysha is a sweet girl, very kind and considerate to other people. She gets a lot of her personality from her father but also her mother making her almost the perfect mix between the two. She is rarely emotional, similar to her father she is usually always calm though she lacks the ability to get angry just upset or frustrated but nothing past that. She’s very open minded like her father once was and her mother was as well. She gets her urge to hear all sides to every story from her dad and her mother’s journalism job which required it to get a legitimate story. Even so she doesn’t just decide that one is correct and the other is in the wrong. She, even at this young age is very intelligent like her father had been due to her love for reading and ability to retain knowledge and learn things quickly. She isn’t much of a talker though, she rather observe than be in the certain of attention though she tends to trust easily, seeing the good in everyone and is truly exceptionally optimistic. She doesn’t tend to be selfish but everyone has their moments, she usually thinks about others first though. She does have an obsession, a deep love for lizards that began when her Uncle Tas gave her a lizard she named Nightlock.
She generally is very shy upon first meeting, a bit cautious since her dad and uncle always tell her to be weary of strangers and is hesitant in deciding things usually. She’s very curious though, which is why she was first taught to read cause she was snooping around in his office and ended up sitting surrounded by book since she tipped the bookcase a bit. She does love to learn, but sometimes her curiosity gets the best of her, despite she is still very trustworthy especially since she tends to act mature for her age despite her obvious naivety with certain social interactions and the way people’s minds work and innocence.
She does have Hemophilia which is the main reason to her caution and Kelso overbearing protectiveness at times. She is aware of the consequences of doing something dangerous so she’d very careful and luckily the girl is graceful as well. Aysha adores animals in general and is a gentle kind person to them and thinks highly of her lizards Nightlock and Gaia.

│ Lɪᴋᴇs │
☻ Lizards
☻ Books
☻ Drawing
☻ Learning
☻ Father & Uncle
☻ Cooking

│ Dɪsʟɪᴋᴇs │
☹ Seeing her Daddy be sad/angry
☹ Chocolates
☹ Cleaning
☹ Yelling
☹ Thunder Storms (they scare her daddy)

│ Sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜs │
✮ Intelligence
✮ Innocence
✮ Kindess

│ Wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇssᴇs │
☆ Innocence
☆ Physical Strength
☆ Naivety

│ Fᴇᴀʀs │
✗ What’s in the dark
✗ She’ll loose everyone else she loves
✗ Getting Hurt/cares for getting hurt.



"When I get cut, it just keeps on bleeding, I know why, my parents told me, but… that makes me different doesn’t it? I’ve read too many books on what happen to things that are different and I don’t want to be different."


│ Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ │
Aysha was born to two loving parents, Genevieve and Kelso Bran, during the same day her aunt died. Some would say this was fate, that one family member died during the birth of another but that wasn’t how anyone in the Bran family viewed it. Due to her birth being that day, it caused the separation between her father and his family, their family.
Aysha didn’t know this then though, she was just an infant, being cared for and loved by her father and mother. By the time the young girl could walk she was a curious happy child, always giggling or smiling, wandering around and almost always could be seen clinging to her dad if he was around. Despite she spent a great deal of time with her mom but still liked cuddling with her dad the best. She was a total daddy’s girl.
As she aged she began to get even more curious and got closer to her parents who always found time for her. Eventually though, at the age of two she was bouncing on her bed and hit her chin off the headboard. She got it cut but not too deep but unfortunately, she didn’t stop bleeding at all, even after an hour. Kelso and Veve rushed her to the hospital, Veve praying she didn’t get her genetic flaw. It turned out Aysha did so she had to be given blood that would actually clot the wound. She was diagnosed with Hemophilia, a condition which the ability for blood to clot is severely reduced. She was hospitalized for the next two days and when she returned home she was explained what happened and told to be more careful. She was a smart girl, even at this age, she got it and did as she was told.
Not soon after that, she got curious and eventually accidently knocked books off the shelf in Kelso’s office and found her looking at the books when he got home. He was amused and asked if she wished to learn how to read. She eagerly accepted and so started the routine of teaching her how to read and eventually how to write as well. They bonded a lot over this and spent a lot of nights staying up late reading.
Life was good, kind, but all things good always came to an end. At the age of three Aysha’s mother died, killed by the Resistance in a bomb. The night it happened, Aysha’s mom didn’t come home and she was beginning to worry, especially seeing that her dad was trying to pretend not to be worried. She went to bed that night only to wake up the next morning to see her father staring at the TV. He didn’t look like her dad anymore, he looked broken, sad, and different. She panicked at first, tried to do everything in her power to gain his attention. She went to go get mommy but she wasn’t there. Giving up she spent the next two days making sure he ate and drank. But unfortunately, due to the fact he left the TV on, she found out why he was like this but said nothing just closed in on herself. After the second day of this, someone came into the house and Aysha had tried to get him away but stopped when he told her who he was. She hadn’t known her father had a twin and stopped fighting against him. For the next week she spent her time with him, the whole time knowing her mom was dead but busied herself with spending time with her uncle who she soon adored. Once that week ended and she returned home and Kelso told her she cried and told him she knew. They spent that whole night curled up together crying over their loss.

[ӍдѕҞa]

For the next few months it was tough on them, they mourned together and Kelso struggled with his schedule though luckily Taslyn was in the picture now, their relationship returned almost back to normal and kept Aysha company when Kelso was off at work. Aysha grew very close to her uncle, though not as close to her dad but close enough. It wasn’t soon after that Aysha noticed that during a thunder storm her father was basically locked in his room and had earlier, just before the storm started told her to go to bed. She remembered when her mother had told her about daddy’s fear, mainly because she’s walked in seeing them panicked. She went in with her headphones and curled up with her dad, covering his ears and blocking the sound with music. Ever since every thunderstorm she comforted her dad, reassuring her that he needed her just as much as she needed him. Eventually they were both back to the way they were, reading, writing and cooking together, just mom never came back home and instead her uncle Tas visited often.
When she was four, Uncle Tas gifted her with a lizard for her birthday which she adored and began her obsession with lizards. She kept Nightlock with her almost all the time from then on. Though, oddly enough not long after her birthday when Kelso took her to the park a woman approached her in a cloak. She spoke to Aysha, telling her how cute her lizard was. Aysha eagerly gushed about it, forgetting her shyness. Eventually the woman handed her something, a golden-ish lizard but Aysha hesitated in taking it since she didn’t know the woman despite the fact she looked strangely familiar. The woman noticed her hesitation and assured her that it was fine, that she was actually her father’s sister but to keep it a secret from him. Aysha believed her but wasn’t sure about keeping the secret as she took the lizard giddily, letting Nightlock meet her new friend Gaia. The woman assured her that it was fine, that he wouldn’t be mad and she agreed. Unfortunately her aunt left soon after that and her dad returned from the phone he took and asked about the lizard. She just said someone she knew gave it to her before she rushed off to play.
Currently as a six year old girl that she is, she’s much smarter than an average six year old is, much more mature as well. She still misses her mother but she loves her father and Uncle with all her heart. She still continues to read and write, cuddle and comfort her father during thunder storms. She also knows how to cook some stuff and bake by herself though she still has to make sure someone is watching her just in case. She loves making cookies for her father and uncle. Despite missing her mother she is happy with her life and isn’t too eager with the concept of going to school in two years. She also spends a lot of time in the bookstore her father owns by their building since she can’t be looked after all the time or at the restaurant her dad works as.




"It’s curious. When you close the book after reading the last chapter, is it really the end, or just the beginning?"

[ӍдѕҞa]

"I guess raising Bell is difficult, but she's a smart girl, the toughest part about all this is looking at her and knowing Veve won't ever come back, that she's gone and Bell won't have her in her life."

Ｂａｓｉｃｓ
│ Nᴀᴍᴇ │ Kelso Daemyn Bran
│ Nᴀᴍᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ │
(view spoiler)[ Kelso- Scottish Place
Daemyn- Constant, Loyal[American]
Bran- Raven[Welsh]
(hide spoiler)]
│Aʟɪᴀsᴇs │ Demon
│ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ │ Daemyn, Kel



│ Aɢᴇ │ 29
│ Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ │ January 5th
│ Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ │ 5:38am
│ Pʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ │ Hospital
│ Zᴏᴅɪᴀᴄ │ Capricorn
(view spoiler)[Your element: Earth
Your ruling planets: Saturn
Symbol: The Goat
Your stone: Garnet
Life Pursuit: To be proud of their achievements
Vibration: Powerful resilient energy
Capricorn Secret Desire: to be admired by their family and friends and the world at large
(hide spoiler)]




│ Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ Rᴏʟᴇ │ Masculine
│ Bɪʀᴛʜ Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ │ Male
│ Sᴇxᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ │ Heterosexual
│ Pʀᴇsᴇɴᴛ Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs │ Widowed/Single
│ Pᴀsᴛ Rᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘs │ Wife



│ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ Sᴏɴɢ: │ Queen of Hearts-We The Kings-
│ ᴍᴏDᴇ ᴏғ Tʀᴀɴsᴘᴏʀᴛɪᴏɴ: │

│ Fᴀᴍɪʟʏ │
│ Pᴀʀᴇɴᴛs │
Name Melissa Lyan Bran
Relation » Mother |◦ » ◦| Status » Deceased
|Image|: (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]

Name Deryn Arik Bran
Relation » Father |◦ » ◦| Status » Deceased
|Image|: (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]


│ Sɪʙʟɪɴɢs │

Name Adrienne Bran
Relation » Older Sister |◦ 30 » ◦| Status » Alive
|Image|: (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]

Name Taslyn Bran
Relation » Older Brother |◦ 29 » ◦| Status » Alive
|Image|: (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]

Name Meryn Bran
Relation » Younger Brother |◦ 27 » ◦| Status » Alive
|Image|: (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]

│Wɪғᴇ │
Name Genevieve Sofia Bran
Relation » Wife |◦ 26 » ◦| Status » Deceased
|Image|: (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]

│Dᴀᴜɢʜᴛᴇʀ │
Name Aysha Bellflower Bran
Relation » Daughter |◦ 6 » ◦| Status » Alive
|Image|: (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]




"What did you just say to me?"


Ａｐｐｅａｒａｎｃｅ
│ Iᴍᴀɢᴇ │



│ Hᴀɪʀ │ Dark Brown
│ Eʏᴇs │Blue

│ Cᴏᴍᴘʟᴇxɪᴏɴ │ Caucasian, flawless features.
│ Bᴜɪʟᴅ │ 5'9", large built, muscular, not an ounce of fat.
│ Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ │ Richard Madden
│ Dɪsɢᴜɪsɪɴɢ ᴍᴀʀᴋɪɴɢs│

[image error]




"Everyone is two faced, so if you're lucky, you'll stay out of my way before you meet the guy who lives behind the fatherly smiles and laughs."




Ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌ
│ Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕ │ Council of Nine
│ Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕│ Business Man{Owns Line of Restaurants and Bookstores}
│ Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs﹕│ Working/ Spending Time with his Daughter/ Painting/ Reading.



~When the world falls into pieces. You'll be the one voice of reason. When I can't face all my demons. You are the one I believe in~

~Through the thunder and the rain. Together we fall together we fly away~



│ Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ │
Kelso is usually very polite, a total gentleman. He’s the type to always think of others before himself, at least when he was younger. He’d grown more closed off than he was as a child but he still retained his manners. He is also slightly bitter due to the betrayals he’d had to endure through his life. Despite he is still rather open minded, he’d rather listen to both sides of a fight or argument, hear everything from everyone before making a decision and even then he’d rather not choose a side and settles it patiently and calmly. Kelso is still a very kind man, caring and definitely loving towards those he cares for and usually people who need help. He does not like the resistance and sometimes it’s hard for him to look past currently in this point of his life. He does tend to act colder to those in allegiance with the Resistance, it’s something he can’t help anymore. Otherwise he is usually optimistic, specifically with his daughter but he does over thinks when he’s left alone and goes into a deep depression that he is always unable to snap out of until he’s with family once again.
Kelso is a great father, caring and always making sure he has time to spend with Aysha though it is sometimes a struggle with how much work he has. He adores his little girl and she’s really the only thing keeping him going as of late. Well her and Taslyn, without his twin he’d have destroyed himself along with Aysha. He has regained his sense of humor, he’s usually fairly light hearted, kind and considerate along with passionate especially with cooking and reading. Kelso is also very intelligent, highly so, he knows and retains a lot but uses everything he’s learned since a child for his advantage. He also teaches Aysha a lot of what he already knows since she’s show her interest in learning.
Kelso, despite all said, can get angry, though his is more subtle unless he wants it to be shown. He is intimidating, strict and serious, sometimes even cold but this is usually during his job when he needs people to do what he wants and to win people over, seeming tough. He tends to clean when he’s upset or angry to calm himself plus he just enjoys it and likes keeping things clean, almost OCD.
There are a lot of layers to Kelso, if you wrong him or threaten his family he will be your worst nightmare, he is protective and loyal but also kind, understanding although it doesn’t stop him from laying his hand down firm and scaring the shit out of people if the situation calls for it. He’s good with people, very good with socializing and interacting with people which is good for his job.

│ Lɪᴋᴇs │
☻ Daughter & Brother
☻ Reading
☻ Math
☻ Cooking
☻ Cleaning

│ Dɪsʟɪᴋᴇs │
☹ Resistance
☹ Bombs
☹ Miscommunication
☹ Chocolate
☹

│ Sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜs │
✮ Intelligence
✮ Loyalty
✮ Physical Strength
✮ Mental Capability
✮ Caring

│ Wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇssᴇs │
☆ Family
☆ Emotional Stability
☆ Being Threatened (Or having family members being threatened)
☆ Being Alone
☆ Overthinking

│ Fᴇᴀʀs │
✗ Thunder Storms
✗ losing those he loves

[ӍдѕҞa]

~Hold me closely. You are my one and only. You're the Queen of hearts. Make me your king~


│ Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ │
╠≈Childhood≈╣
Kelso was born into a family extremely dedicated to the Resistance cause. They were fiercely loyal and believed not much else but despite his parents weren’t high ranking in the Resistance but even their jobs were for the Resistance. Fortunately for Kelso, despite being born with his elder twin Taslyn, situating themselves soon into the middle child role, Kelso was never heavily influenced by his parents. His older sister who was Taslyn’s role model and even Taslyn himself due to his admiration for their sister, both were thrust into the life of being a Resistance follower. Kelso, with his parents usually busy working or assisting wherever they can with the Resistance, he hadn’t been pressured or found any need in following his siblings footsteps. He supported the Resistance of course, he was still raised in a household with all Resistance fanatics, but he found no desire to follow every whim of the Resistance.
Kelso, despite his inability to fall under the captivating spell of the Resistance, he and his twin brother Taslyn were close companions through their childhood. They may not share the same mind set, especially since Kelso was the only one in his family who didn’t fully hate the Council. He had some respect for them but he didn’t necessarily like them either. Taslyn was the one Kelso was most close with compared to everyone in his family, but it didn’t mean Kelso wasn’t close to everyone else. By the time Kelso was five he was the one making sure his family came home for dinner instead of skipping it and having it later to go to some event. Kelso didn’t mind, he cared about his family and wanted to make sure they still acted like a family, had dinner together as many nights as they could, that his family was safe and healthy. Since his parents were usually working, and often Taslyn and Adrienne left for events, Kelso, who never went to them, was sometimes left to look after their younger brother Meryn since he was too young at that point and already adoring Adrienne like Taslyn had. Kelso never minded, he took care of his little brother when no one else could, Kelso got used to doing chores around the house, cleaning even cooking before he even began school. If he wasn’t doing any of these as a kid, he was reading anything he could get his hands on, cook books, textbooks, novels, anything that he happened to stumble upon. He enjoyed myths about the outside world the most. He luckily had learned how to read when his parents spent time with him and taught him how to and luckily he’d caught on fast.
He loved all his family members, interacted with them all but he loved and connected the most to his twin but he was also close to Adrienne but unlike Taslyn, she wasn’t exactly a role model, she was just a friend he could count on when he needed help or just to sit in her company in silence. He was close to his mother as well, not as much as Taslyn or Adrienne but he often went with her to work when he didn’t have to look after Meryn and he had nothing else to take care of at home. She taught him a lot, excluding how to read, she taught him math and how to work with numbers and he got to practice having went to her work with her.

╠≈Schooling≈╣
Kelso was well aware that both his older sister and brother were popular in school therefore making him well liked. He though didn’t care too much about a superficial thing like that, he talked to who he wished and felt like, defended those who looked like they needed it but he wasn’t impulsive, he did act quickly but he always got control of the situation and made sure to hear all sides of the story before making a decision. He was open minded even in school, a ‘goody-two-shoes’ which he was often called by meat heads but Kelso wasn’t one to anger easily though this didn’t mean he wasn’t intimating. Soon he was just well liked because of who he was and how he treated people, but he was also disliked for this reason and another.
Kelso, after the first year of school, was put into very advanced classes due to all the reading he’d done as a child and how advanced his math skills were from his mom teaching him. The first year was hell for his teachers cause he was always done his work and silently reading, ‘ignoring them’, or he was correcting them when they got things wrong, which was basically every day. That next year for school he was put into all advanced classes though it was mainly just sending him work to do and that’s what he did. By the time he was eleven he’d finished what average sixteen year olds did. Unfortunately by law he still had to stay in school so he was given further schooling than most of his peers which was another reason for the animosity towards him. Most thought he thought he was better than everyone else but frankly he didn’t but never bothered with what people thought of him, he did what he knew was right and went on from there.
Throughout school though, Taslyn became more invested in the resistance, was popular and went through a phase where he tried to do numerous clubs, due to all this the twins didn’t spend too much time together but it didn’t mean their bond wavered, they were still close just different interests just like when they were kids. Kelso was never interested in anything school related besides learning, he usually just went home, did homework, cooked, sometimes baked, made sure everyone ate, did chores some nights but often he just wandered around the streets, no destination in mind but going on these walks always meant he had time for himself to think about everything, specifically things that troubled him or what he wished to do.
Once, when he was ten, he was wandering around the streets one night, lost completely in thought and having no recollection of where he was going, he was also obviously to the fact he was beginning to be rained on. He didn’t know what was going on until the first crack of thunder which drew him from his thoughts and into reality. He was four steps away from a large street lamp which seconds after coming into reality was struck by lightning. He watched in horror as this happened, feeling the change in the air. If he’d walked just a bit closer he would totally be dead. He didn’t know where he was, how to go home, it was dark, dangerous and he was stuck in a storm. He ended up curled up in an alley way, shivering, panicking and just over all in shock. It wasn’t until late afternoon the next day Taslyn and their mother found Kelso in that alley, still in shock with hypothermia now and a bad cold. From then on Taslyn helped him through his panicked nights and days when it thunder stormed, sometimes Meryn helped when Taslyn was busy.
By thirteen he realized that he wanted to become a business man, specifically owning restaurants since he already loved cooking and baking and eventually he liked the idea of owning his own line of bookstores.
At fifteen Meryn approached the second youngest brother, which wasn’t unusual. Kelso was the guy everyone went to when they wanted someone to listen and give their honest opinion as kindly as one could. It meant Kelso knew a lot about his family, a lot of very interesting and strange things that he won’t likely ever share. Meryn though came to him to confide in him, told him how he was engaging in sexual acts with Adrienne. Kelso was of course shocked but he allowed Meryn to pitch his piece and then told Meryn that whatever he chose, even if it was to eventually have a life with Adrienne, as long as they were both happy he’d support them. Kelso promised not to share it with anyone though it did haunt him a bit, it just came such a shock to him but he got over it. They were still his siblings, they weren’t any different just because they were seeing each other beyond the normal aspects of a sibling relationship.
Kelso continued school, his future decided in what he wished to do and he was glad he finished school at sixteen since he could finally got out, get himself a good job and begin saving up to move out but first he wanted to save up for his business he planned to do. Kelso was a smart kid so by the time he was seventeen he had moved out and was still saving up but was well on his way to beginning his company, making sure to visit and have time with his family of course.
╠≈Adulthood≈╣
At eighteen he already owned his property and as he worked on the side, he worked on his restaurant, having it built, remodeled but the opening was put off for some time due to the fact he needed more money before he could hire people to work for him. It started off very slow but he was incredible happy with his accomplishments. Unfortunately, this happiness didn’t last too long. Their parents had found out about Meryn and Adrienne’s relationship and separated the pair. Kelso knew this would be hard on them both but he went to see Meryn first since he was the one that confided in him about the situation. Meryn wasn’t happy to see him, their relationship was shattered at Meryn’s declaration of blame, stating it was Kelso’s fault they were separated, that he’d told on them and destroyed his life. Kelso tried to reason calmly with Meryn, tried to assure him he hadn’t had done that but Meryn wouldn’t hear any of it and told him if he were to ever see him again Meryn would kill him. Kelso left soon after that knowing he wasn’t going to change his mind but he was distraught at the loss of trust and basically the loss of a family member who he helped raise. It was a hard year on the whole family that caused Kelso to throw himself into his business that was just getting off.
Eventually the next year he got back in contact with his family, well everyone else but his brother Meryn though he had tried, and Taslyn he’d kept in contact with of course. He couldn’t ignore the tension though, the strain. He didn’t feel comfortable with his parents knowing what they had done, sure he knew they had their reasons but it tore everyone apart. Adrienne was usually busy with Resistance stuff but Kelso got in contact with her and their relationship went back to being easy going as it was when they were kids, they just didn’t meet in person a lot since they were both busy.

[ӍдѕҞa]

At twenty, Kelso’s first restaurant was finally off and highly successful. He was able to quit his side job and even if he was the owner and manager of the restaurant he was also the cook since he loved cooking and still kept up that skill from childhood. During one of Kelso’s chef shifts, an incident occurred in his restaurant. He’d been called out since someone wanted to personally thank him for the meal he made them, so at the time he was in the main seating area when a sound of a slap and a thump of a chair falling echoed through the restaurant as everything fell silent. Kelso turned to see a young woman who’d fallen alongside a chair clutching her cheek and a large man who looked livid. Kelso calmly went over, and offered to help the woman up. She accepted it and once she was on her feet she finally looked at Kelso was stunned, no not stunned, he fell under the spell of her gaze. He had snapped out of it though and asked what happened here, refusing to be bias. Unfortunately the man just sneered and stormed out of the place and Kelso looked back at the woman who was just keeping her tears at bay, looking at her feet and a red hand mark evident on her face. Kelso assured everyone everything was fine and led the woman to the back. That was how he met Genevieve, she had just broken up with the man since he wasn’t only a violent drunk but he was cheating on her. Kelso helped her out and it was not soon later that the two of them became friends and eventually escalated into a relationship. Though it had not all been smooth sailing since Kelso was ignorant to any kind of relationship like this so he got a lot of advice from Adrienne. Kelso was heads over heels in love with Veve, as she was with him. A year after they met, half a year from when they began dating he introduced her to everyone officially, well, all but Meryn since he refused to talk or see him still. Nonetheless, Veve fit right in, bypassing the tension with everyone in the family. Veve was a kind person, open minded just like Kelso with an innocence that drew people in. Not only were they lovers, they were friends first and always and she helped him often with his business though she still had her job as a journalist. Their relationship wasn’t perfect, they did have small arguments occasionally but they never went to bed without resolving it but otherwise they had a good relationship and Kelso couldn’t have been happier when Taslyn accepted her, liking her well enough. Even if Veve was a Council of Nine believer which she didn’t actively voice, aware people didn’t share the opinion but she understood why they wouldn’t but she was optimistic that the Council would reform and become something that would make everyone support them. Once they’d began dating, instead of Taslyn helping him through the thunder storm, Veve took over and never made fun of him for his fear (since it was a fear many had).
At twenty two Genevieve and Kelso were married, tattooing an image on their ring fingers instead of getting actual rings. It wasn’t soon after they had the small ceremony and were happily living together married that Veve realized she was pregnant. Kelso didn’t know how to handle it though, it was all of a sudden and he hadn’t thought too much on having kids since he has been occupied by his growing business, having opened up two other restaurants in the city. Adrienne helped him through his internal fear, he had experience with kids, having taken care of Meryn as a child. Kelso grew to accept it and soon was thrilled, reassuring Veve who had been freaking out as much as he had. They helped each other and soon were both eager parents to be.

╠≈Tragedy≈╣
At twenty three though, Kelso, the exact day Veve went into labour and soon birthed their baby girl Aysha, Adrienne was killed and died in Taslyn’s arms and all because of the rumors Meryn had spread. So as tragedy hit his family and tore something in his twin brother, Kelso was in this hospital helping his wife and soon holding his child in his arms.
He learned of what had happened a few days after and refused to believe it since he’d spoken to Adrienne just the day before she was killed. He wasn’t even able to grief, he had Veve and Aysha to look after, he also had to make sure Taslyn was okay and help him since he knew he must be distraught over the loss of their dear sister. Unfortunately, Kelso didn’t have time to see his brother until a week later after the death, close to the funeral, Kelso went to his brother but it only ended in an argument and soon the whole incident and the fact Kelso hadn’t been there when it occurred created a tension between the twins that couldn’t be broken. Their relationship nearly fell apart, they only texted each other occasionally though in the beginning Kelso was still there despite the tension to just be there for him. Kelso spent all of his time working or with Veve and Aysha. Kelso grieved in silence, not wanting to burden anyone but it affected him, causing him to become a bit closed off at times, it didn’t help that with his growing business he had to stand a firm stand, which he was able to do, but always being kind and calm didn’t help in some situations. All in all, Kelso was beginning to change and the tension surrounding his family wasn’t helping in the slightest.
Also due to this, Kelso became neutral in his view of the Resistance and the Council, seeing how the Resistance had caused the death of Adrienne not the Council. Despite all this though, Kelso was a great father, he loved and spent a lot of time with Aysha, especially after he hired someone to help with his job and managers.
By the time Kelso was twenty five he had a few restaurants in the city and a few bookstores all run by him with assistance of course. It meant income was good and he could support his family which brought him much more joy than cooking did. Though, the family he was born to, he barely saw any of them anymore, sometimes called his mom, texted his twin but that was all anymore.

╠≈Betrayal≈╣
At age twenty six, Kelso and Taslyn, the tension between the two had started to lessen to where they could talk to each other over the phone, rarely meet up, though the strain was still there they were working on it. Aysha was three by this time and was a bundle of curiosity and Kelso was overjoyed when she took in interest in his books which he continuously collected. He soon began teaching her how to read, reading her stories and eventually she began reading him stories. This was how they bonded for the most part, that or she was helping him cook for Veve.
The happiness didn’t last long at all. Nearing his twenty seventh birthday, Veve didn’t come home one night and Kelso, despite worried, sent Aysha off to bed and stayed up the whole night, waiting for her. It wasn’t until he checked the news when he found out that the place she worked for, the building itself was bombed. He watched in shock, heartbreak, sorrow and well he was destroyed as he saw Genevieve’s name was named as dead.
Despair fell upon Kelso, for two whole days he didn’t move from his spot on the couch, staring at nothing. Aysha had got him small things to eat since she couldn’t use the oven or use much without Kelso. Aysha was confused and concerned for her dad, she also just wanted to know where her mom was.
Fortunately, on the third day, since Taslyn had seen watch happened and since they were supposed to meet the other day he knew something was wrong. Taslyn had headed over and seeing the state of things stepped in. Taslyn took care of Aysha for the next week or so as Kelso mourned and raged since it was said the Council had arranged the bomb since the company had been working on some story against them. By the end of the week, Kelso had composed himself enough to tell Aysha what happened. The two of them mourned but Kelso didn’t close off again and Taslyn helped a lot though which caused Aysha’s relationship with Taslyn to form and she soon adored her uncle.
Although, a few months after the death of his wife, Taslyn informed Kelso of what he learned about the incident. The Resistance had orchestrated it, fearing what Kelso would say if he switched sides so they wanted to make sure he hated the Council. Kelso was livid for the second time in his life, it wasn’t soon after Taslyn told him that Kelso allegiance himself with the Council but he didn’t give up his family or the Resistance because he wasn’t the type.
Soon Kelso was able to accept his loss, return to being a great father to Aysha, had his bond with his brother once more though it wasn’t as it had once been. His business was successful and income was coming in steady, but he missed Veve.
When Aysha was five, Kelso and Taslyn twenty eight, Taslyn gave Aysha Nighlock, a lizard and Aysha soon became obsessed with reptiles because of it, adoring her lizard which she basically always have with her.
A half a year later Aysha and Kelso were in a park and Kelso had to turn away and take a call for a moment and the next Aysha had a golden-ish lizard and told him a lady had given it to him. Kelso was confused but knew that his daughter wouldn’t give it up but he subconsciously knew something fishy was about it but knew it was better than to question it.

╠≈Currently≈╣
Currently Kelso is working most weekdays, late afternoon shifts as a chef usually in his original restaurant. Despite this evenings and weekends he spends time with his daughter and often Taslyn as well when he can. He still experiences panic attacks during thunder storms and has Aysha help him out despite the fact he tried to hide it from her but she knew about them at three years of age and has been with him to help him through it since Veve died.
He hasn’t really interacted with anyone else in the family either, losing contact with his mom and Meryn still hates him. Kelso did learn that Meryn was pro council similar to him now but that’s all he knows about his younger brother. Kelso is still mourning the loss of his wife, it doesn’t help the tattoo on his wedding finger constantly reminds him of her but in a way he’s thankful because he doesn’t want to forget her smiles, her laughs, the way she’d rambles on about an interesting day at work. He wanted to remember her despite how much it hurt and he wanted Aysha to remember her, to know about the mom she lacks because of the Resistance. He likes life enough but he’s often sad when he’s not busy with his family or with work. He’s a changed man than who he was as a child. He’s more withdrawn, opened minded only to an extent. He’s bitter now, especially to those believing in the Resistance because he is well aware of the extent they will go to, to get what they want.




~The smile on your face. Is all that I need~

[[deleted user]]

(view spoiler)[ A very simple, typical charrie. Thanks to Keenan for template inspiration. (hide spoiler)]

     

Mᴇɢʜᴀɴ Sʏɴs ━━━━ ２１ ━━━━ Sᴛʀᴀɪɢʜᴛ ━━━━ ♀ ━━━━




[ ]

[ M ] eghan had what you may call a very uneventful, and a simple history. Raised by her strict, but caring parents, it was their influence which stirred her towards the resistance.

[ T ] hey both supported the council, though they never worked for them. Inspired by her parents, though the proper word can be forced, she 'chose' the council and dedicated her life to make her parents proud. She has no siblings, and is quite alone in the world, a fact she realizes often. She has no friends, and her only family is her parents, who care only enough to provide for her, but not enough to love her the way a child wants to be loved.

[ M ] eghan had grown to be gorgeous. Beautiful, tangles of caramel simply tumbles down her fragile frame. Skin dusted with gold, and amber eyes rimmed with fluttering lashes, and a beautiful smile, she was the girl every man would want and every girl would want to be.

[ W ]orking for the resistance doesn't mean she doesn't know how to defend herself if necessary. She's experienced with hand combat, shooting, archery and other defense methods. She has a good schooling as well; don't let her looks underestimate her smarts.


━━━ ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ᴀ ｈｅｒｏ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴀ ᴠɪʟʟᴀɴ ? ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━


━━━━━━━ ᴡʜᴀᴛ's ᴀ Sᴛᴏʀᴍ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ｄａｎｇｅｒｓ ? ━━━━━━━





━━━━━━━━━━━ I·ᴍ ᴀs ᴘʀᴇᴛᴛʏ ᴀs ᴛʜᴇ ᴅᴇᴠɪʟ ━━━━━━━


━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ Aɴᴅ ᴛʜʀᴇᴇ ᴛɪᴍᴇs ᴇᴠᴇɴ ｓｍａｒｔｅｒ


[ M ] eghan is polite and genuine on the surface, but never underestimate. She only treats people according to their value, therefore treating people lower than her the way no one really should. A conscience works on her but it was her upbringing that caused this.

[ M ] eghan is your typical rich girl. Grew up in wealth, lives in wealth, knows nothing but wealth. She's used to cleanliness and hygiene, and silk and velvets, and has no idea of the suffering of the lower class.

[ M ] eghan is fierce when it comes to violence. She's against violence at any odds, and holds a fierce hatred towards the resistance. She therefore tries her best to stamp them out, believing them to be the cause of violence. She prefers stability and order above all, and is a sticker for rules.

❛ underestimating me will be your last mistake ❜


━━ ᴅɪsʟɪᴋᴇs ━━━━ ᴠɪᴏʟᴇɴᴄᴇ ━━━━ ʀᴇʙᴇʟʟɪᴏɴ
━━━ ᴡᴇᴀᴋɴᴇssᴇs ━━━ ɢᴜɪʟᴛ ━━━━ ʟᴀᴄᴋ ᴏғ ᴋɴᴏᴡʟᴇᴅɢᴇ





━━ ʟɪᴋᴇs ━━━━ sᴛᴀʙɪʟɪᴛʏ ━━━━ ᴘᴇʀғᴇᴄᴛɪᴏɴ
━━━ sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜs ━━━ sᴏᴄɪᴀʟɪᴢɪɴɢ ━━━━ ᴡᴇᴀʟᴛʜ ━━━

[Denver -writes poems drinks wine-]

"Hᴇᴄᴀᴛᴇ, ᴍɪɢʜᴛʏ Gᴏᴅᴅᴇss ᴏғ ᴄʀᴏssʀᴏᴀᴅs, ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇss, ᴅᴇᴀᴛʜ, ᴡɪsᴅᴏᴍ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏᴏɴ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ. Pʟᴇᴀsᴇ Hᴇᴄᴀᴛᴇ, ᴘʀᴏᴛᴇᴄᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʜᴇʟᴘ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴇɴ I ᴀᴍ ɪɴ ᴅᴀɴɢᴇʀ. Tʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴍᴇ ᴀs ᴏɴᴇ ᴏғ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴏᴡɴ ᴀɴᴅ ɢɪᴠᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀʟʟ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪs ɴᴇᴇᴅᴇᴅ. Hᴇᴄᴀᴛᴇ, sᴜʀʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴍᴇ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴅᴀʀᴋɴᴇss sᴏ ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ᴄᴀɴ ʙʀɪɴɢ ғᴏʀᴛʜ ᴍʏ ʟɪɢʜᴛ."
-Hᴇᴄᴀᴛᴇ Sᴜᴍᴍᴏɴɪɴɢ Pʀᴀʏᴇʀ

Nᴀᴍᴇ﹕ Hecate Nightshade
The Nightshade family has only ever birthed daughters, no males. The mother's never marry the men that father their children, they simply enjoy them for a while and toss them aside. All Nightshade daughters are named after Goddesses of old. The Nightshade family firmly believes that each daughter is the embodiment of their namesake, that the spirit of that Goddess resides within their vessel.
Aʟɪᴀsᴇs ᴏʀ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs﹕ Queen of Thieves, Coven Woman, Witch, Siren



A Pʀᴀʏᴇʀ ᴛᴏ Hᴇᴄᴀᴛᴇ:
Wʜᴇɴ I ᴅᴏᴜʙᴛ, sʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ᴍʏ sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜ;
Wʜᴇɴ I ᴀᴍ ᴡʀᴏɴɢ, sʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ᴘᴀᴛʜ;
Lɪɢʜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏssʀᴏᴀᴅs ʙᴇғᴏʀᴇ ᴍᴇ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ I ᴍᴀʏ sᴇᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡᴀʏ.
Qᴜᴇᴇɴ ᴏғ Tʀᴀɴsɪᴛɪᴏɴs, Gᴜᴀʀᴅɪᴀɴ ᴏғ Dᴏᴏʀᴡᴀʏs, Hᴇᴄᴀᴛᴇ, ʙʟᴇss ᴍʏ ᴊᴏᴜʀɴᴇʏs,
Tʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴅᴀʀᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀᴡɴ, ᴅᴀʏ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴜsᴋ.
Hᴇʟᴘ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ʙʀɪɴɢ ɪɴᴛᴏ ʙᴀʟᴀɴᴄᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ғᴏʀᴄᴇs ᴡɪᴛʜɪɴ ᴍʏsᴇʟғ -
Lɪɢʜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴀʀᴋ, ᴀʙᴏᴠᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ʙᴇʟᴏᴡ.
As ᴀ ᴄᴏɪɴ ᴄᴀɴɴᴏᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴏɴᴇ sɪᴅᴇ, I ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ, ᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ.

Aɢᴇ﹕ 24
Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ February 13th, on a Friday. She was doomed unlucky by other families, but to the Nightshade Family, this was a symbol of luck from their Goddesses. Every Friday the 13th were large celebrations, even if it were not on her birthday.
Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ 12:02 am



Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ﹕ Female
Sᴇxᴜᴀʟ Oʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Pansexual
Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs﹕ Single. Hecate knows that she cannot marry, she cannot wed, she cannot have a real family. Only daughters, as many as she can. She stays away from any sort of romantic relationship whenever she can. She got her nickname The Siren because she never commits to relationships, just woos others then sends them away.



Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕ The Resistance, typically. Also to her thieves, who she will do anything to protect
Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Exotic Dancer and singer at the Heart of Ashes, Queen of Thieves, Last living Nightshade woman
Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs﹕ Praying to her goddess, growing herbs, mixing remedies, gathering information, protecting her little thieves, sending them on missions, entrapping men

Iᴍᴀɢᴇ﹕

Wʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ Dᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Hecate has the air of her namesake, and stands with the poise of a woman of power. Her hair is a coppery read, and wavy, almost impossible to control. She often lets it flow around her, like a storm. Her eyes are mesmerizing, a glowing golden colour that seems almost supernatural.They are like liquid sunlight, the way they shimmer and glow. They are a family trait. She has high cheekbones and naturally red lips. Her eyebrows are naturally arched. She generally keeps her lips painted a purple rose, and her eyes usually rimmed with charcoal.
Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ﹕ 5'7,5'9 in her heels
Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ﹕ The Darling Emmy Rossum

Aᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ɢᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ ᴅᴜsᴋ I sᴛᴀɴᴅ,
Hᴇᴄᴀᴛᴇ, ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ʜᴀɴᴅ,
Gᴜᴀʀᴅ ᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴍᴀɢɪᴄ ᴘᴏᴡᴇʀ.
Gᴜɪᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏssʀᴏᴀᴅs ʜᴏᴜʀ,
Fʀᴏᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ɢʟᴏʀʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɢʜᴛ,
Tᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇᴀᴜᴛʏ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴇ ɴɪɢʜᴛ.

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ﹕
Hecate is wickedly smart and clever. She would have to be, to be Queen of Theives. All of the Nightshade's have been known for their cleverness, regardless of Hecate being the only one left. Hecate morns the loss of her family above all else, but is committed to creating the next generation of the Nightshade family, which is why she has the job which she does. She is very dedicated to her Goddess and does routine prayers to Hecate on a daily basis. She feels incredibly connected to the Goddess and believes that perhaps the old folklore of her family and ancestors may be true. She enjoys reading, especially her family's old journals of incantations. Of course, none of them work, magic does not exist in this world. But something keeps Hecate holding onto the books, something keeps her hopeful that maybe there is still magic in the world. While she isn't a specific member of the resistance, she believes in their cause. She often lends her thieves out to their cause. She is fiercely protective of her thieves, she treats them like the children she has yet to be blessed with.

Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ﹕
Hecate was the only daughter born to Astrea Nightshade, sister of Aphrodite Nightshade, cousin of Harmonia Nightshade. She was a blessing to Astrea, who thought she may never have a daughter. Hecate was treasured as a child, since she was her mother's only offspring. Her family was well-to-do in the city, allied with the council, under their protection because one of the high council members was deeply in love with one of her great aunts. Obviously, this aunt could never marry the council member, but they courted for several years, in order to keep the family and their practices safe. Because of this, their family lived like royalty, throwing elegant balls and galas on a weekly basis, all themed after the Goddess of old. Hecate grew up surrounded by jewels, flowers, and lavish foods. She and her cousins grew up loved by the young men of the council as well as their families, and were courted quite often.


But not all was well in the Nightshade family. While they constantly were throwing their parties and entertaining the council to keep their family safe, danger lurked everywhere. Their practices, prayers to their Goddesses were seen as radical behavior by many of the older Council members, threat to society. And when the great aunt finally told the Council member she absolutely could not wed, the Council formed a plan to destroy the entire family. At one of their parties, with every last family member attending, the Council plotted their assassinations. Hecate had gone upstairs to do her evening prayer to her Goddess, as often her prayers took place at night. She was making her way back towards the party when she heard their screams, and the young 16 year old watched in horror as every last member of the Nightshade family was ripped apart.

For a while, the girl wandered the streets. She couldn't go home, the bodies of her family had been left there on display, as a warning to any other 'radicals.' Hecate had grown up with such a sheltered and protected life, she had no idea how to live on her own. Winter was upon her and times were very rough...this was when she decided to become a thief.

Hecate wasn't sure she would be able to handle thievery, but it came to her easier than expected. She began to work her way up the reputation ladder among thieves, her story and talents starting to precede her. Other thieves came to her for team efforts and help. With her rep, she became well known as "The Queen of Thieves," around the city. She became incredibly protective of her other thieves, in almost a motherly fashion. The 22 year old adored the young thieves, and would sacrifice anything for them.
The same year, she began working at the Heart of the Ashes as a singer and exotic dancer. She figured the extra income would help her and her thieves, and this way she could find possible prospects for repopulating her family. Hecate had the entire weight on her shoulders of making sure the Nightshade family didn't die out with her. She became incredibly close to the other women of the night, both at the Heart of the Ashes and the Soul and the Dragon.



Mᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄɪʀᴄʟᴇ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴇ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ,
Mᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇᴀʀᴛʜ ᴀʟᴡᴀʏs ʙᴇ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ,
Mᴀʏ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴀᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙᴇ sʜᴀᴋᴇɴ,
Mᴀʏ Hᴇᴄᴀᴛᴇ ʟɪᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴍʏ sᴏᴜʟ.

[KT]

PART ONE

▐ ❝My life didn't start out easily. But when I got out of there, I thought... I thought that things would get better. In retrospect, that was a highly foolish thing to expect. That doesn't mean I still don't make a wish on every falling star I see for things to just get a little easier. And it doesn't mean that I don't spend my nights wondering what I did to deserve this.❞


Nᴀᴍᴇ﹕ Kristelle Alcaraz
Aʟɪᴀsᴇs ᴏʀ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs﹕ Kris, Krissy, Al (view spoiler)[Keeps her real name a secret and goes by the last name Alvidrez (hide spoiler)]



▐ ❝Well, if you have a problem with my friends, you have a problem with me. And that's not good for you. Oh I know I don't look like much, it won't end well if you underestimate me. Just trust me on that one.❞


Aɢᴇ﹕ 21
Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ August 22
Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ 9:17 AM



▐ ❝Come on, baby. Just a little bit closer. It's alright, I don't bite. Not unless that's what you're into, that is. If you pay the right price, I can make your night something special. Just don't be stupid and try and stiff me on the cash, doll. Just pay me and I promise you'll get what you paid for.❞


Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ﹕ Female
Sᴇxᴜᴀʟ Oʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕Panromantic Grey-Asexual
Panromantic:
↳A person who is romantically attracted to others but is not limited by the other's sex or gender.
Grey-Asexual:
↳A person who experiences sexual attraction but has a low sex drive
Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs﹕Single



▐ ❝Don't underestimate me, darling. Never underestimate anyone. You never know when a pretty smile is hiding a vicious snarl, that girl you've been tormenting all night owns a gun... or when that girl with the pretty smile you thought was far too ditzy and dumb to know what you were saying has been paying attention to every single word.❞


Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕Resistance
Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕Resistance Council Member, Stripper, Prostitute
Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs﹕
☑Playing with her pets
☑Drawing
☑Dancing
☑Singing
☑Hanging with friends
☑Drinking coffee



▐ ❝The only reason I still do this is because of my other job. People talk to me. I'm easy to talk to-- especially when we're both sweating in the same bed together. I hear so much. The only reason I'm as high ranked I am is that I know what to do with what I hear.❞


Iᴍᴀɢᴇ﹕

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Wʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ Dᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ﹕
Her build is petite and slender, flexible despite her small size. The ends of her long hair are lighter than the roots, which are a deep, rich brown with an gradual ombre. Her skin is smooth and flawless, a lightly bronzed shade of tan. Her eyes are dark brown and endless, framed with thick lashes.
Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ﹕ 5'2
Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ﹕ Monica Cruz



▐ ❝Don't judge me for what I do. I judge myself for it enough. But it's what I have to do. And so I do it. I have to get over my personal feelings and do what's right. And so I do.❞


Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ﹕
Kris fakes a lot of things in her life. There's the obvious things, since she is a prostitute. But then there's the more serious ones. She lies and fakes to her friends as well. She keeps them from knowing just how desperately upset at her life she is. She let's them think she's fine with her job, that prostitution is kind of a fun, easy way to make money. She remembers the funny, weird parts and regales the strippers with prostitution stories about the guy who wanted her to just clean his house, or the one who couldn't get it up until he watched a Billy Mays commercial. What she doesn't mention is the one that ignored the safe word, the one who brought friends without telling her, or the real reason she had cuts all over her legs. She also doesn't mention what she actually does. Of course she can't hide that she's a prostitute. What she doesn't tell her friends is that she does the weird stuff. She grew up in horrific conditions, seeing her friends raped every day until she was six. Those weird fetishes people have are nothing compared to what she could be going through, what her sister did go through, and she knows it. The things guys ask for may seem weird, but they are mild compared to what it could be. And she's just past the point of caring what happens to her anymore.

Despite her job, Krissy seems oddly innocent. She's seen the worst side of people, and she tries desperately to see the best now. She tends to ignore the bad things people do, wanting to know there are still good people in the world. She's a doll, a just all around good person. She'll go out of her way to help people no matter what. With everyone she meets she's friendly, and famously sweet to everyone, especially her friends. Whenever she has something she doesn't need, like an extra hundred dollars, she sneaks it to her friends. She doesn't know if they know, and she doesn't care. She's incredibly selfless, and also self-hating. This isn't someone that's exactly helpless, however. She knows how to take care of herself, and she isn't afraid to do it. But she really doesn't want to. She hates violence, no matter the situation. It takes a lot to get her to fight back, but when she does... If she decides you're a horrible enough person, she makes sure you won't hurt anyone else again. She's far more likely to avenge one of her friends than to even defend herself.

She can well be described as distant but affectionate. She hates being fixed to cuddle with people afterwards. Can't stand being close to people she doesn't like. But she loves cuddling when she has the choice. If you didn't know her well you'd guess she's dating almost all of her friends, given her affectionate attitude for them. She's almost desperate for positive human attention where she has the choice and its up to her to initiate it. The type to cuddle with her friends and kiss them on the cheek. It's not unusual for her to sit on a friends lap for a long time, or fall asleep with her head in their lap. It's just how she is. But she doesn't really talk to her friends about her real issues. She talks a lot, but not about her problems. But she's good at helping her friends with their issues. The problem is she's an expert at avoiding her own.

She's also incredibly smart. Krissy has over a genius's IQ... But her brains are almost wasted with her job. Mostly. She's smart enough to take what she's heard with the council members and supporters. The thing that sets her above the other spies is that she knows exactly what to do with the knowledge. She knows how to find the council's weaknesses and use it against them, all while remaining incredibly anonymous. Not even her own sister knows she part of the resistance council. Hell, almost no one in the resistance itself even knows who the clever last member of the council is.



▐ ❝It happens all the time. I have to walk out there and smile and dance. And then I have to go with someone and pretend to be having the time of my life. And every day I die a little more inside.❞

[KT]

PART TWO

▐ ❝I'm not deaf. I'm not blind. I'm not completely stupid. I know people find me attractive. And I can use that to me advantage. I need to use it to be able to get my information for the resistance. But I have to balance it out. If I use my looks too much I get hurt. It's a risk I have to take.❞



Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ﹕
Her mother was trapped as a part of what was effectively a human trafficking ring. A group of the population of the City that couldn't have children created it. Well, maybe human trafficking ring was the nice way to put it. It was a breeding ring, with the men and women that wanted children either paying to hook up with one of the captured people or buying a child already born. The first six years of Kristelle's life were all almost exactly the same. She was sick in the beginning, and therefore unable to be bought. As she grew up, Krissy was placed under her sister Kat's care. Their mother was too popular be able to waste time taking care of a baby. Katarina was still too young then to be of any real use, so it was no loss for her to take time to care for the child.

After a long time though, or what felt like it, something happened. Kris was adopted. At this point Katarina was her only family, her friend. She didn't want to leave. But Kris was still taken away, adopted into an admittedly loving family. The couple adored her, and she had nothing against them... Except for the fact that they weren't Kat. She ran away after only a few years, desperate to return to her sister and caretaker. But she was barely ten. She didn't know how to get back to her family.

Lost and alone, she wandered the streets for days. But after a while, she was found. A middle aged couple, Gertrude and Clyde, found her and took her in. They cared for her for years without hesitation, using the money from the club that they ran. She was a cute, scruffy kid. It wasn't hard to fall for those deep brown puppy dog eyes, and they seemed to be suckered in. As long as she stayed with them, they pretended to help her look for Kat, and she appreciated it. Until she was about 16.

Very calmly, they explained that it wasn't free handouts. She owed them for the years they took care of her. But she was only 15, how could she pay them back? According to them, the answer was obvious. Just dance at their club. She hated it with every fiber of her being. But what could she do? There was no way she could get out of it. After a year, Krissy was absolutely desperate to get out. She turned to prostitution, doing horrible, horrible things just to get free. She managed to get enough money to make a big enough payment to at least switch to another club, a bit better. She still didn't have nearly enough to get free, unfortunately. She tried to stop payments, but they threatened her friends. And she didn't dare do anything with them in danger.

Fᴀᴍɪʟʏ﹕
Pᴀʀᴇɴᴛs﹕
Name- Viktor Blackwood
Relation » Father ◦ » ◦ Status » Deceased
Image-(view spoiler)[
(hide spoiler)]

Name- Valentine (view spoiler)[Last name unknown (hide spoiler)]
Relation » Mother ◦ » ◦ Status » Alive
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(hide spoiler)]

Sɪʙʟɪɴɢs﹕
Name- Katarina Alcaraz
Relation » Older Sister ◦ » ◦ Status » Alive
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(hide spoiler)]

Fʀɪᴇɴᴅs﹕
Name- Solaris Royal Armandt
Relation » Friend ◦ » ◦ Status » Alive
Image-(view spoiler)[
(hide spoiler)]

Name- Jayden Rue Mccandless; Mickey
Relation » Friend ◦ » ◦ Status » Alive
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Name- Cherry Angie-Belvadere Stone
Relation » Friend◦ » ◦ Status » Alive
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Name- Xylia Makatza Sylvain
Relation » Friends? ◦ » ◦ Status » Alive
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Pᴇᴛs﹕
Name- Reaper
Species » Rottweiler ◦ » ◦ Status » Alive
Image-(view spoiler)[
(hide spoiler)]

Name- Persephone
Species » Bombay ◦ » ◦ Status » Alive
Image-(view spoiler)[
(hide spoiler)]



▐ ❝There's a reason that I'm one of the best. The other dancers? They want to do this because it's a thrill for them. The tease, adrenaline. I do this because I have nothing else to do to keep me alive.❞

[[deleted user]]

(view spoiler)[Thanks to Keenan Dom for providing me with this, thanks so much! (hide spoiler)]

Aʟɪᴀ Wᴏᴏᴅs▬▬▬▬19▬▬▬▬ᴄᴏᴜɴᴄɪʟ▬▬▬▬sᴛʀᴀɪɢʜᴛ▬▬▬


sɪɴɢʟᴇ▬▬▬▬ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ▬▬▬▬ᴡᴇᴀʟᴛʜʏ▬▬▬▬ᴘʜᴏᴛᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜᴇʀ




━━━━ Wᴇ ᴋᴇᴇᴘ ᴛʜɪs ʟᴏᴠᴇ ɪɴ ᴀ photograph

━━━━ ᴡᴇ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇsᴇ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇs ғᴏʀ ourselves

❛ date of birth ; 31st October

place of birth; heart of the city

time of birth; 3:02 AM

❛ Support; council ❜

❛ reasons; personal, related to history ❜

❛ hobbies/interest; photography ❜

━━━━ ʜᴇᴀʀᴛs ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ʙʀᴏᴋᴇɴ

━━━━ ᴛɪᴍᴇs ᴀʀᴇ ғᴏʀᴇᴠᴇʀ ғʀᴏᴢᴇɴ sᴛɪʟʟ

( )

( Ｈ ) oney-colored, straight, but silky, hair showers down her frail and slim waist. With deep green eyes, flecked with gold, and rimmed with attractive dark eyelashes, with gold-kissed skin, heads definitely turn whenever she walks into the room. Her smile is admirable, along with her adorable left dimple, and her laugh contagious; she's a lovely, attractive girl, though sometimes slightly bedraggled.

ғᴀᴄᴇᴄʟᴀɪᴍ▬▬▬▬Sʜᴀɪʟᴇɴᴇ▬▬▬▬Dɪᴀɴɴ▬▬▬▬ᴡᴏᴏᴅʟᴇʏ▬▬▬




Bʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ▬▬▬▬Gʀᴇᴇɴ﹣ ᴇʏᴇᴅ▬▬▬▬ʟᴇᴀɴ▬▬▬▬Aᴛᴛʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴠᴇ

( Ａ ) lia is cold, and calculating, partly because of the nature of how she was raised, and because of her history. She is only truly friendly, open and happy when photographing; its the one real thing she has to herself.

( Ａ )lia always has an ulterior motive when she makes friends, or 'allies' as she puts them. There is a price for ever favor; there's no exception, no 'pro bono'. Its all or nothing. She does nothing for the 'good of people' and is never nice. Polite, maybe, but it depends on the people, and what rank they're in.

( H ) owever, once someone earns her loyalty, she will ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ betray them. She will never let any harm, or any sort of offence, come to them and if that should happen, she unleashes her rage. She's fiercely protective, and loyal to her friends, as she proved repeatedly. She also has a strong sense of duty when it comes to women, any sort of women; she's an active feminist, and believes in equality. Her sense of justice is correct, but not her sense of judgment.
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬


▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

( Ａ ) lia had a terrible childhood, hence her personality and her determination to prove herself to be different than her mother. Living in the slums was not at all a suitable place for a single mother and a little four-year-old. Desperate, her mother decided to turn to another line of work, one that Alia doesn't like discussing.

[✾]

( Ａ ) lia and her mother lived in a broken down, two-room house and little five-year-old Alia had to watch her mother leave every night, always with a different man. And when Alia's mother didn't leave with the man, she brought them home ▬▬▬ and that was worse. Young Alia hid in her dusty bedroom while her mother entertained men, and even though she loved her mother, she never had the courage to tell her mother to stop doing what she was doing; she was too young to know what it was, but she was almost sure it wasn't anything right.

[❖]

❛ She was a good person. Just too desperate for her own good. ❜

( ₮ ) heir financial state improved; slowly, but improved all the same, and now their broken down refrigerator held edible vegetables. Her mother's 'service' became more frequent, leaving a vulnerable young Alia to wander around aimlessly. However, one night, her mother went out the door and left with yet another man. But this time to never return.

❊❊❊

( Ｔ ) he house got messier and lonelier with only a scared little girl in it. All Alia had was her mother's old rickety camera and finding nothing else to do, she took random pictures; of houses, floors, herself, tables. It was a long time before they found her, only to reveal how her mother was killed by one man who didn't like her 'entertainment well enough'. The council recruited the girl and brought her in; she was going to go off to the orphanage but then Lily Kates laid her eyes on her.

━━━━ Wᴇ ᴘᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛɪɴɪᴇsᴛ ᴏғ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇᴍᴏʀɪᴇs ...

━━━━ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏɴ ᴀ ᴘʜᴏᴛᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜ

[ ☯ ]

( Ｌ ) ily Kates worked for the council in a high position and adopted little Alia. To some it looked like a genuine, and generous thing to do but growing up, Alia realized the truth; it was simply because Lily wanted her own 'pawn', someone who would owe her forever, and she got exactly what she wanted. Lily's teaching and influence made Alia who she is today. Sometimes, Alia thanks the stars; sometimes Alia curses in her name. Sometimes she can't bear looking at her 'mother'; but most of the time she does anyways.

[ ◆ ]

Alia was always a talented photographer. Despite Lily's disapproval, she continued until she was the best. She loves taking pictures, and describes as it being her only 'saving grace'. After a bad day, she goes out the window and takes a picture of the sky. She thinks it makes her feel special, like the world was hers when she looked it straight in the eye through the lenses of her beloved camera.

❛ When I have a camera in my hand, I have no fear ❜.

❛ The Earth is art, the photographer a witness. ❜

❛ My eyes are shutters, my minds are my lenses. ❜

[[deleted user]]

"Gotta love a good party, and gotta love a girl who knows how to party to get back at the whole damn city."

Nᴀᴍᴇ﹕ Jessamine Amyra Franklin
Aʟɪᴀsᴇs ᴏʀ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs﹕ Jin

Aɢᴇ﹕ 18
Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ July 4
Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ 4:27

"Pretty, right? Now watch me dance. And then realize that I'm more my ass and tits and actually have brain."

Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ﹕ Female
Sᴇxᴜᴀʟ Oʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Panromantic demisexual
Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs﹕ Single?

Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕ Herself
Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Council spy, resistance spy, waitress (and sometimes dancer) at the Soul and the Dragon, clerk at a bookstore
Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs﹕ Reading, drawing, dancing


Wʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ Dᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ﹕

Jin is classically pretty despite her not-so-pretty attitude. She has long brown hair, which falls in waves down past her breasts. Her hair is thick and shiny -- clearly cared for. Sometimes, she has it slightly bleached towards the ends (an ombre), sometimes the some color in highlight form. Sometimes, it isn't the half-bleached color but purple instead. She has beautiful greenish hazel eyes framed by thick lashes. She often uses eye make-up to make them stand out even more. Her smile could light up a room. She is rather skinny but not unhealthily so, and she is curvy.

Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ﹕ 5'8
Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ﹕ Antonia Iacobescu

"Deny it 'till my dying day, but the glasses are still the color of the roses."

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ﹕

Jin is an idealist. She wants to believe the best in people. She wants to believe the best in the world. Maybe she is just a bit of a romantic, someone who loves the world for all its cruelty. And she does know a bit about what the world can do, but she refuses to see how truly harsh it can be. She's seen dead bodies, but it's like something from the books to her. She has troubles understanding it means that someone's life was just wiped away as if it meant absolutely nothing.

She rebels against people who try to enforce their ideals on her life. She is very independent and feels like she can do anything. She tries not to follow what her parents say for her to do. She tries not to follow a single power, but she knows that if she wants to live, she has to pick a side -- or so she thinks. Well, she says "fuck no" to that, too. She feels if she has to pick a side, then she might as well pick both and play them against each other. And that's what she does. Even her job at The Soul and the Dragon is an act of rebellion. Her parents never would have approved of that.

But despite this, Jin is no ditz. She is an intelligent young lady. If there's a situation that's potentially dangerous, she avoids it. She is very protective of her younger sister and those around her. She would always deny that it was because of some deep-rooted maternal instinct. She would help people at cost to herself even if a lot of times she comes off as slightly shallow and selfish.

Jin's rebelling has another effect, however. It means that she is always in trouble even if she did nothing wrong just because she sometimes does. Jin wishes that people would try to understand or hear her side of the story before blaming her for things. When she was younger, her younger sister always comforted her through it. Even with her sister, though, her temper made itself apparent. It was because of this that Jin made an effort to read all of Celia's favorite books so that the sisters would have something more in common than parents and blood.

"Maybe rebelling's just my way of telling you that fuck yeah, this world's utter shit but I believe it can get better. Never thought of that, did you?"

Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ﹕

There was a lot that happened in the neighborhood that Jin was glad that her younger sister never saw. Jin was glad her younger sister never learned that one of their next door neighbors was raped on his way home from school. He had been one of Jin's best friends up to that point. She'd even had a childish crush on him, but he changed so much after that and shut her out no matter what she did to try to be there for him. But that was not where her story truly started; that was just one of the many things that led her to rebel.

Jin was born in that transition section between the Heart of the City and the Middle City Slums. Her parents were kind people, or kind enough. They knew how to live, and they knew how to be safe. If sometimes that meant they were tough on Jin, then Jin understood. At least, she did when she was younger. Their lack of empathy toward her attitude would one day make her resent them (a sentiment she would resent after their death).

When Jin was one, she was terribly excited at the news her parents gave her. Her mother was pregnant. According to her parents, she grinned and threw her arms around them. As she got older, this would start being followed by something like, "Why can't you still be that happy to be around us?" Jin would, of course, roll her eyes and retort with things like, "Because you make shitty comments like that." And that became a self-serving cycle.

Her parents had a young little sister named Celia. And suddenly half of her room was taken up by this little being. Jin resented that all of her space was taken by a little person that couldn't even speak. Even so, she adored the little kid and always tried to get Celia to play with her things with her. This, of course, did not work until Celia was a little older. By then, of course, Jin had a couple other friends, too: Alix the boy from next door, Rowan the boy from upstairs, Gabby from the park, and Lino the drunk's son. Naturally, her mother was not a fan of her little daughter being a friends with guys only. Open "rebellion" didn't happen until much later.

School started when Jin was eight, and she was loathe not to have her little sister with her. That, of course, was too bad because their parents weren't about to start their academia-loving daughter at school two years early because they were too worried. Jin tried to convince Celia to come with her anyway, convinced that if she brought the golden-girl with her that she'd get to have her sister at school. Celia told her no. Jin was put out at that, but she ended up loving school none the less. She made new friends and she stayed with her same friends.

And then twelve happened. That was when Alix was raped by one of the older students. He was her childhood crush and her closest friend. Jin tried to be there for him. She started sneaking out at night and climbing on the outside of their skyscraper to get into his room and didn't care about how much trouble she got in with her parents. But he wanted nothing to do with her because she was closest to him and because she did have that crush on him. He wouldn't let his friend in through his window like he used to, and he refused to talk to her. And Jin did not take it well.

She became the ring-leader of a group of trouble-makers. Rowan was her second. Gabby was their spy. Lino got their supplies. It was her way of acting out against a world that had taken her best friend from her. They never did too much. They partied where they weren't meant to party and they vandalized property. But it was never more than petty. They hadn't even declared themselves loyal to the resistance. But the city council found Lino anyway . . .

. . .and made an example of him in the middle of the street when they were both fourteen.

Then, then, Jin considered herself resistance. How could she possibly support the city council when they had killed one of her friends. But then, it was only five months before there was another substantial loss in her life: her parents. Jin had been out misbehaving with her friends when it happened. The resistance murdered them for being council informants. Jin was aghast. This was what the resistance was? And then there was another thought. What if they had told the city council about her friends? She stressed about this for hours until she resolved there was something more important for her to focus on: her sister.

Her sister was two years younger than she was; thirteen. And she would be in the orphanage without her elder sister. Unfortunately, despite a couple desperate attempts to get money, both girls were still in the orphanage and had to go to school. But Jin, Jin didn't care about getting into more trouble, so by the time she was sixteen, she was working multiple jobs in order to get out of the orphanage. She bought them a small flat in a better part of the MCS with the money she earned. She is determined never to have to borrow money and will work herself into the ground before she gives up the flat she shares with her sister.

"Friends? They're as much my family as my blood. Accept it."

Fᴀᴍɪʟʏ﹕

>> Parents; both dead
>> Celia Franklin; 16; alive; Emma; no image; no faceclaim

"Since when do we need to follow the rules? Rules are for other people."

[[deleted user]]

"Where is life except in the land of the mad?"

Nᴀᴍᴇ﹕ Evander Oomen Dereicht
Aʟɪᴀsᴇs ᴏʀ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs﹕ Evelin (for reasons that will be explained in his backstory)

"Twenty-six except those few years really don't count. Explains why I'm a teenager at heart."

Aɢᴇ﹕ 26
Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ October 7
Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ 4:17

"I'm a boy. Doesn't fucking well mean I can't look like a girl when I feel like it, right? Right."

Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ﹕ Male

He's probably something more like genderfluid, but he enies this and considers himself male

Sᴇxᴜᴀʟ Oʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Demiromantic asexual -- only romantically attracted to people not men
Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs﹕ Single, destined for Katarina

"When everything's ash, we go with what we know. And that's what we're loyal to at the very core."

Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕ City Council
Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ City Council Member
Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs﹕ Cross-dressing (secretly), painting, reading, learning new things, donating money to the orphanage, playing with orphanage kids, writing


Wʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ Dᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ﹕

Evander adores his hair. Seriously adores it. He can't stand the thought of ever having it short. He love how long and wavy it is. If it's a tad oily, then oh-fucking-well. He has a little bit of facial hair too, which is really the most masculine feature he really has -- and even his facial hair that he has is all he is really capable of growing. He has a fairly long nose. But besides his hair, it's his eyes that pop -- deep and soulful, they express his emotion. He is fairly emotive with his face in general, but the most so with his eyes.

Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ﹕ 6'0"
Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ﹕ Willy Cartier

"I'll do what I want as I want, but I'll look out for the 'small' people, too, and maybe I'll do that first."

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ﹕

Everything positive that Evander is he learned from Zorion. Zorion was the most positive influence that was ever in his life as a parental figure. Evander learned how to be giving, and he learned to defend people from Zorion, who so often stood up against Titus and his explosive temper. Zorion taught him life skills -- cooking, healing, and programming. He is a functional adult because of Zorion's influence on him. Evander is grateful for him and wishes everyone had someone in their life like Zorion. Because of Zorion, he is also unfailingly polite even when he is utterly pissed. Because of Zorion, he wants kids more than really anything even though he can't sire any. He looks after Basil and Desira, his adopted kids, as much as he possibly can and has vowed to accept them as much as he possibly can.

It is because of Titus and Nemeria, the other two parental figures in his life that he's always had self-doubt. He feels a need to be accepted because the only adult that accepted him was Zorion, and Zorion died. He was never good enough for Titus. And sure, he was accepted by his friends, but it was because of them that his life just got more and more confusing. Evander, perhaps due to their influence and perhaps not, never exactly felt entirely male. He sometimes wanted to be a girl, too. Sometimes he still does, but often he tries to pretend he doesn't because he wants to be a man because of what happened last time he was properly a girl. Sometimes, rarely, he gives into the urge to be a girl and wears dresses and calls himself Evelin again.

In regards to sex, Evander had never had much interest to begin with. But he'd more than anything wanted to be accepted no matter who he was, and his friends all slept around, so he slept around too. Until he was castrated and raped. After, he retreated and reevaluated his life, and following that, he was more against having sex than he ever had been. It's been ten years since then, and he has not been with anyone since. He could never bring himself to let anyone see the scars. As a result of what happened, he also has a fear/hatred of police officers and wants to change the entire order. He also doesn't think he could ever fall in love with a man.

But not all of Evander is sweet or lost. He puts on a mask at the city council, a mask he learned from his father. He can be angry and has a temper. He carries a gun in his pocket, though with some of the other city council members, that just equates to a way of not dying. He is also cold in a lot of ways, not showing the part of him that wants acceptance or the part that gives money to the orphanage. He manipulates people also to make them need him for their power or position. While some of this is for the hell of it, a lot of it is because he is trying to achieve his end goal -- redoing the entire police so that it is actually effective. He dislikes the corruption in the city council. He would never join the resistance, but he would not mind redoing it all from the inside out by trying to change exactly how the others think.

Fᴀᴍɪʟʏ:

>>Titus Dereicht; father; deceased
>>Kalih Oomen; mother; deceased; (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]
>>Angelica White; almost step-mother; alive
>>Lyrania Bellamy; half-sister; alive; 19; ƘƬ ~๓ครợยєгค๔є ợยєєภ~; (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]; Luca Hollestelle
>>Maria Rhianna Marquiz; almost step-mother; deceased; (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]
>>Basil Marquiz; adopted son; 7; {OPEN}; (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]
>>Desira Marquiz; half-sister and adopted daughter; 3; {OPEN}; (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]

"I was a stupid child. Naive. Blind. If I could go back and change one thing about my life, I'd have had my eyes opened from the very beginning."

Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ﹕

Evander was born rich. In fact, his father was the richest man on the city council despite their family being new to the city council. He was richer even than Zorion Locke Voclain, whose family had been there since the beginning. Evander's father, Titus, was a smart man, and it had always seemed like he cared for those he was close to genuinely. Evander was no exception. At least not then. Evander had a good mother, also. Or, Evander would have had she not died giving birth to him. Her name had been Kasih, Kasih Oomen.

Titus didn't blame Evander for Kasih's death, which made him better than plenty of other men. He was highly protective of his son. He made sure his son did not learn of the true horrors that happened in the city. Evander had a sort-of family even without his mother. One of the other council members, Zorion Locke Voclain, had been told to leave his own daughter and wife behind. He was terribly jealous of Titus, but he was never cruel for it. In fact, he became like an uncle and was a trusted family member. He also had his father's maid, Nemeria. She treated Evander as if he were her own daughter.

Instead of calling Evander Evander, Nemeria always called him Evelin. Nemeria always referred to him with female pronouns, and when Titus and Zorion were away, she would put Evander in little dresses. Evander did not realize there was anything strange about this. Not until he was six, at least, and he asked his father for a dress. His father freaked.

[[deleted user]]

The next thing Evander knew, he was pushed against a wall and Titus's face was contorted into a snarl. Evander burst into tears and looked at his father in blind terror. It took him a few seconds to figure out exactly what his father was saying. When he did, it contained so many words he didn't understand. He didn't even understand what that emotion on his father's face -- just that it was something to be terrified of. "What the fuck are you thinking of, you little fucker? Who the fucking hell thinks they can fucking tell my perfect little son that he can wear a fucking dress?! The little shit! I'll kill them!"

Evander sank to his knees, sobbing. Titus's rage did not soften. It was fortunate that at that very moment Zorion interfered and used his gun to knock out Evander's dad. Zorion made sure he was all right before calling Nemeria to help him figure out what exactly had happened between Evander and his dad. Sniffling, Evander managed to put words together and explain. It was from the expression of blind terror on Nemeria's face that Zorion figured out it was she who had forcibly tried to effeminate Evander.

But her panic was truly blind. Nemeria picked up a gun and aimed it at the young Evander's head and told Zorion if he turned her over to Evander's father, Evander would die. Zorion, thankfully, had a bit more of a diplomatic personality than many of the other members of the city council and talked Nemeria down. He told her to flee, to return to the Middle City Slums or the Outskirts, whichever whence she had come, and never be seen in the Heart of the City again. She fled.

However, the damage she had done to Evander and his father was already done. Titus, from that day forth, insisted on referring to Evander as Evelin. He got rid of all of Evander's old clothing and bought the boy a whole new wardrobe: a wardrobe made entirely from dresses. Evander was horrified. What if he had liked both the dresses and the boys' clothes. It confused him, and he didn't quite get what was happening, only that he didn't like it.

Not long after, Titus got with another woman. Her name was Angelica. After only six months of being with her, he got her pregnant. Titus was ecstatic. He figured he would finally have a proper heir. Evander, however, was not so thrilled at his father's enthusiasm. What was so wrong about him? Why was he no longer going to be Titus's heir. Evander expressed this to Zorion, who was pissed -- not at Evander, never at Evander, but at Titus for telling Evander that. Zorion fought with Evander over that, and for the next few weeks, Zorion and Titus were not talking. Evander had never felt so alone. Evander and Zorion were the only people who would ever know that Titus was planning on marrying Angelica. He'd even bought an entire wardrobe for the baby -- all boys' clothes because he believed only a male could be a proper heir and he'd decided that Evander was a girl.

However, before the new child was born, Titus got a message. He had to abandon the woman and the new kid just like Zorion had. That was what made Titus start talking to Zorion again. Zorion comforted his friend, and from it, Titus started being nicer to his son again. He started referring to him as Evander again and using masculine pronouns, but Evander still had to wear the dresses. And then Angelica came to Titus and demanded money to keep quiet that they had been together. Evander wouldn't claim to be surprised; he had never liked Angelica anyway.

But Titus? Titus was a wreck and terribly upset, and for reasons Evander would never be able to understand, Titus blamed him for it. It would be the first time Titus ever hit him -- just a single slap to a cheek. But Evander was sobbing. It was like the dress incident all over again except that this time, Evander wasn't just crying from fear. The next day, he went running, bruise on his face, to Zorion. Zorion yelled at Titus on Evander's behalf. That relationship would never heal. But that turned out for the better for Evander.

Zorion more-or-less adopted Evander and didn't allow his father around him unless Evander specifically asked. Evander only asked once, years later when he was thirteen. He never wanted to ask at any other time, and he regretted the one time he did. Zorion allowed him more freedom. He could dress how he wanted (usually in more masculine clothing). He could be who he wanted. And he loved the way he got to live with Zorion. In a lot of ways, Zorion was more Evander's father than Titus was.

But then when Evander was fourteen, Zorion died. It was slow, natural causes, people would say. Evander was sure that Titus had poisoned him. Zorion's daughter's death was faked, and she was brought onto the city council. From the few glimpses of her that Evander got, she was nothing like her father. She was ice where her father was nice. And she wore dark and had make-up so heavy it looked like night was on her face. Evander still viewed her as a sister.

But Evander's life was falling apart. When he returned, he was Evelin again. A "girl." And dresses. He was not allowed to wear any other clothes. And worse, Titus started forcing him to where bra inserts so it looked like he had a bust too. Evander hated it, and it felt like the Evander, the self he had become with Zorion, was slipping away from him. Evander felt so, so lost. And that's when he fell in with a bad crowd.

These people he would go out with at night against Titus's will. It felt good, like freedom and rebellion. Evander spent the nights partying. Some days, he wore a dress and called himself Evelin, and other's he wore a nice masculine ensemble and called himself by his birth name. And his friends didn't judge him for it, they considered him their equal, treated him no differently for it. Evander felt like he had a place with them, even if he wasn't such a fan of doing some of their other activities like smoking weed or vandalizing. He did it anyway because he wanted to fit in with them because they did not judge him like his own father did. He even slept around because that's what they did, too.

And then his life changed drastically. He was Evelin that day, and he was wearing a dress in red and gold. And he was beautiful. He went home with a man. The man wasn't necessarily the best-looking, but he looked like he could be a lot of "fun." Fun. As fucking if. The man was the most judgmental Evander ever met. He was horrified when he learned that the pretty girl he picked up actually had a dick. He had bargained for a woman, and in his mind, that was what he was going to get. He drugged Evander and chopped his dick off. When Evander awoke, the man raped him in the ass and had him suck his own detached dick. The man even fingered where he had once had his dick. The man was a police officer, and this started his hatred of the police.

Evander was sobbing, and the tears burned. And all he could feel pain. He sank to the floor when the man cast him out. Evander didn't know what to do. He didn't want to face his friends, and he really didn't want to face his father. His father's spies found him and dragged him back home. His father slapped him and decided he wanted nothing to do with Evander, but he wasn't about to turn Evander out. Medical professionals healed Evander, and his father made him watch as they were killed for knowing about his "problem."

Evander sort of hated his father after that. How could he not? He'd murdered people who'd helped him right there in front of Evander's eyes just because they knew too much. For the next three years, Evander scarcely left his part of his father's rooms, instead deciding to learn as much as he could -- to be smart instead of what he perceived to be foolish. Evander felt so embarrassed. He also decided that he was definitely a man (even though he did often feel the need to dress as a woman and more or less be a woman) instead of gender-fluid because in his own mind, that had helped lead to his dick and balls being chopped off his body.

And then, when he was twenty, everything changed. According to rumor, Angelica barged into a city council meeting -- something no one did. But what Evander did know was that he now had the younger sister he'd almost gotten when he was still . . . .When he was still whole.

He felt the need to make sure she didn't make the same choices he had. But then he learned it was already too late to protect her, that she'd already gone through some horrid shit just because of her own mother. That made Evander hate Angelica even more than he already had. Yet he almost wished Zorion hadn't stopped them from getting married because then she could have had Zorion in her life for those first few years, too, even if it would have meant she would have been raised as a boy and as Titus's heir instead of him.

Evander knew Lyra wasn't upset their dad left them alone, but he imagined she would have wondered why. So he told her. That in his eyes, they were both girls. He knew she'd be wondering exactly why he was considered a girl. He didn't tell her until later when he was well and truly drunk. She was the only person he told about being forcible effeminated and about having his dick and such chopped off. He trusted her with all his heart -- and still does, though he would not give her city council secrets.

Then, when he was twenty-three, his father found a new woman. Her name was Maria, Maria Rhianna Marquiz. And to both children, she seemed just as horrid as Angelica had. She already had a single kid. He was young, only four, called Basil Marquiz. And he was scared shitless by Maria -- and by extension Titus. Both Evander and Lyrania wanted to help. Evander was already planning to help by getting rid of Titus and Maria ahead of time to prevent another Lyra and "Evelin" from happening.

But before anything could be done, it was announced that Maria was pregnant. So Evander waited until Maria had her kid -- a little girl, who was then called Desira Marquiz. Evander made sure that Basil and Desira were staying over, and then he, having asked Lyra where the breaks on a car were once, severed the breaks on Titus's car. Both Maria and Titus died. Evander felt terrible about having killed them, but he also recognized that he was protecting Basil and Desira, and to him, that was more important than any guilt he felt.

He properly started to raise Desira and Basil almost as if they were his own children. With the money he'd suddenly inherited, he started buying new things for the orphanage so that the owners couldn't misspend any of the money he put into the place. He felt rather attached to misfit children. However, all of this he did anonymously. People still pretty much had seen neither hide nor hair from him since he reinvented himself by burying himself in books.

Due to the serious thing the city council seemed to have for nepotism, he was offered the position of city council member. He refused it. He didn't want it, and he didn't view himself as worthy of the position. So someone else was given the position.

It was obvious from the get-go that this other person was a place-holder. An old man, in his late eighties, he was ruthless, but he was not meant to last. And Evander knew it was because he was the person they really wanted on the city council. So he devoted more time to getting familiar with the system and to figure out strategies for getting rid of the police. He learned. And he continued taking care of the kids, being sure to be a better father than Titus ever had been. And a month ago, when the place-holder died, he accepted the offer.

"I made a new self, and never again will I be such a fool. And I thought I was smart then -- what will I be now?"

[[deleted user]]

"Look in the sideview mirrors. How worthwhile is anything anyone ever does?

Nᴀᴍᴇ﹕ Dagfinn Escarra
Aʟɪᴀsᴇs ᴏʀ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs﹕ Dagger

Aɢᴇ﹕ 20
Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ March 11
Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ 4:41

Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ﹕ Male
Sᴇxᴜᴀʟ Oʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Panromantic pansexual
Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs﹕ Single

Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕ City Council, His gang
Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Council Spy and second-in-command to Shy Max
Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs﹕ Casual sex, planning, sparring, knife fighting, verbal sparring, street racing, sketching, fighting


Wʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ Dᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ﹕

Dagger often looks a bit more puerile than he would like. His lips are a teenager's lips, always ready to put even if he only ever makes that expression while deep in thought. He has dark hair, neither long nor short. It's oily though, and the exact color always varies from dark brown to black. He has beautiful blue eyes like frost. Sometimes he outlines these in eyeliner to make himself seem more fearsome. He’s tall and lean. He’s all muscle without necessarily appearing so when one is not specifically looking for that. He has burn scars on both hands, and they make it hard for him to move his left hand properly. Overall, though, he is pretty unobtrusive and can blend in anywhere despit the air of power he wears with him.

Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ﹕ 6'2"
Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ﹕ Vasiliy Makarov

"Everyone dies. You have to get used to it, or you have to go home."

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ﹕

Dagger lies -- that is the first thing a person has to know about him. They second is that he can be lewd and crass, an attitude designed to discomfort all around him. He likes it when people are off-balance. They're less likely to make good decisions and all the more likely to let somethig slip. Every time someone slips up, he feels a little more powerful. He adores power. Power means almost everything to him. He needs it to survive, and more than anything, he uses it as a security blanket, a safety net.

Dagger never does anythig halfway, either. Anything he does, he does to the best of his abilities. And he doesn't let anh disadvantages get in his way either. His left hand was never really functional and he never learned to read. And he has debts that he refuses to ever pay off. But he has cunning and can scheme his way into anything -- or out of it. Because of his hand, Dagger learned to fight with astounding skill with his right hand. And he found a way around his inability to read using technology.

But secretly, Dagger does have a soft side. He adores children, and he wants to be able to protect people. If he could cure all disease, then he would. Instead, he triss to shut this side of himself off from the world. Because he thinks it's impractical. Because he's afraid of getting hurt. He doesn’t even know at this point. It’s habit, plain and simple. He doesn’t let anyone and he makes sure no one wants to mess with him. Anhone hurts him, he goes after them. Anyone hurts people he cares about, he helps them and then goes out to chase the bad guy.

"The past is what we look like on the inside. Stare long enough and we’re all open books."

Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ﹕

Dagger was born into the poorest part of The Outskirts, the place that would soon become the Burned Lands, a place where people were lucky to have even a shack and supplies were rare enough that people would kill over them. His parents had moved from the Heart of the City to here, something that would never make any sense to anyone except them. Them, and the son they barely raised. In the back of his mind, he would always remember them telling him that they wanted to get away from superficial world of the Heart and wanted to live real lives, to feel like they meant something. Dagger would resent them for this for all of his childhood.

But Dagger's parents had tried to raise him well. They stated to teach him to read at age three. They had him help in the small ways a toddler could. They spent every second they could helping him. Sometimes, they did go hungry. The land they were living on was poor from having long since being overworked without break. And his parents would not buy enough food for themselves if they could help one of their few neighbors. They were well-loved, and their neighbors would give them some of the meager things they had.

Dagger was happy when he was three and his little sister, Astrid Escarra, was born. She was born a month prematurely and miraculously survived against all odds. Dagger felt protective of her from the very first. Dagger would often find tough little flowers for her. He'd often tell her little stories to help her sleep. She adored him more than their parents. He was the one that could stop her crying, not his mom and not his dad.

And then when Dagger was four years old, the Burnt Lands at last earned their name. No one except would ever be sure of who started the fire. If anyone asked Dagger, he'd tell them it was he. Maybe that was the reason the kids in the orphanage always sent him looks of disgust. But Dagger was not the one at fault. It all happened because little Astrid in her toddling knocked over just a single candle. His sister's shoe caught fire and the floor right next to her. Dagger was the one that knocked her away from the floor, and Dagger was the one that took her shoes off even as he screamed, even as his skin melted.

He carried his sister with his slightly burned hands out of there. They watched from nearby as the fire spread across the house, across the scraggly grass, and to everyone else's houses. Dagger covered little Astrid's eyes even as she was sobbing, but his own crying eyes, those no one covered. He saw everything. He could do nothing to protect her ears from the screams. He didn't even think about protecting his own ears. But when the fire died, days later, and Astrid was crying from hunger, and Dagger was holding her and sobbing, Astrid, as best as she could manage, asked Dagger if it was all her fault.

Dagger, choked with tears, told her that no, it was all his fault, but that he would protect her from all the monsters of the world. She believed him. And that meant the world to young little Dagger. He then brought her to the hospital and got her healed. He got himself healed. And that was when Dagger's pile of debts began. It would not become smaller until he had a his namesake in his hand and a thirst for power.

The people at the hospital weren't able to or weren't able to heal their burn scars. Dagger would always have a stiff left hand, and Astrid would never be able to walk again. Dagger was upset, but he was thankful both of them were even alive. That seemed a miracle unto itself. Until they ended up in the orphanage at least.

Slums kids, particularly orphans, weren't the kids of the Outskirts he'd grown up around. They were crueler, and despite having access to more materials, they were tougher too. It was a foreign world to Dagger. Where before anyone was willing to lend a helping hand, now no one was. They'd spit on anyone needing help. And Dagger learned to lie as a defense mechanism. He learned his sister was more accepted if he was the one who set the land on fire.

By the time Dagger was eight and starting school, he had long since started getting into fights with the other students. He was smaller, but he was sly. He could figure out an opponent's weaknesses and use them against whatever opponent he could face. He was never terribly focused on academia, but part of that was because he could not really be. He never learned how to read or write, the letters never having clicked in his head. After his parents' death, what was even the point in learning? It was something they wanted him to do.

And then he was eleven. Eleven and receiving terrifying news. His sister was being adopted and he wasn't. The couple was rich and from the Heart of the City. And he wasn't invited because he'd allegedly created the Burnt Lands and had many debts already attached to his name even then. Dagger tried to be happy for little Astrid even though he'd really miss her. But then, Astrid told him that she wanted to stay with him. So they made a plan together so that they could live together on the streets. They didn't get money. Dagger was expecting to have to steal. Astrid offered to take money from her adopted family, but Dagger told her not to. They were already taking Astrid from them. They didn't need to take anymore.

So after about a month of Astrid being away, Dagger came over one night and helped his sister out of the window. And on a bike Dagger had stolen from one of the other children, they went to the other side of the Middle City Slums. They had to live on the streets and be careful not to be caught by the police or by people who would take them back to the orphanage -- and for a while, they actually somehow managed it. These were some of the happier times in Dagger's life.

But then he was thirteen, and it all came crashing down around him. His sister developed pneumonia, and by the time he was able to steal the medicine to help her, there was nothing he could do. He couldn't even take her to the hospital because they'd take Astrid away from him, and she told him she'd rather die than leave him like that again. Dagger had just turned fourteen when his sister finally died. He'd known it was coming for a while at that point. And when she died, she was in his arms. And she told him she loved him and told him to live well. Dagger promised himself he'd never be powerless to save anyone again.

It was while he was holding Astrid's corpse that a street gang found him. Knowing he couldn't tell the truth, he gave Astrid's corpse a disdainful look at said, "The little shit tried to steal from me. Can you believe it?" One of the gang members laughed, and they took him to their leader. Their leader was a big young man, tall and broad and all muscle. His name was Max. Shy Max was what he was called on the street. Rumor had it he was once called Max Ash or Ashy Max and the "A" had just gotten dropped from the latter.

[[deleted user]]

No matter where Shy Max had come from, his name certainly didn't fit him. He was loud and boisterous, never afraid to have a party or share a bawdy song or lewd joke. And for some reason, he took the scrawny little Dagger under his wing. Shy Max had a terrible temper, but it was never ever directed at Dagger. Dagger came to see Shy Max as a father or a brother. Shy Max taught Dagger everything he knows about life on the streets. He was given his own rooms in the gang's headquarter's, a privilege afforded to few.

Dagger started to change as a person. He became tougher. He learned to lie more and more until it became an instinct. He learned to put himself above those he was around. His cunning became scheming for power. He started sleeping around, for information and for the sake of the act itself. And he became so very good with a knife. His lust for power became a driving force for him. But somewhere in there was still the little boy who cared so much for others, but that boy was guarded by a wall of ice.

One day, Shy Max's second just happened to run into Dagger's dagger and keel over dead. Shy Max looked really long and hard at Dagger before telling the then sixteen-year-old that he was now his second, his chief adviser and most trusted member of his gang. Dagger just gave him a wolfish grin that clearly said he already knew that.

But then the police found their gang -- apparently they'd pissed off the wrong important person -- and they had to scatter. Shy Max and Dagger stayed together. It took about a month, but they successfully found almost all of the uncaptured members. But they didn't wanted the captured members talking. They needed someone on the inside. It was a position of power in the city council (not a member) even more power in the gang. Dagger couldn't resist. And despite his not knowing how to read, he took the job.

The goal had never been to get the captured gang members out. It had always been to kill them and keep them from talking. Dagger was never sadistic. He gave the gangsters easy deaths. And then he told Shy Max he was taking the position in order to keep any eye on the city council as well as keep them safer. And so he did. He used his already existent information-finding habits in order to gather information on the resistance to the city council. Though he reported primarily to Nyco Drake, he would report to really any council member.

However, when he turned eighteen, there was another change in his life. His gang more-or-less fell apart. There was a mutiny against him and Shy Max because other gangsters in their group wanted power faster than they were getting it. Dagger hated it. He had earned hjs position, and if anyone had challenged his positon properly, he was sure he could have defeated them even with only one good hand and no ability to read. But maybe they knew that, so they instead just tried to kill both Dagger and Shy Max. It split their gang in half. And Dagger was furious about the fact. And both he and Shy Max vowed their revenge.

Therefore, in addition to Dagger's growing involvement as a city council spy, Dagger was also helping to lead a gang war in the Middle City Slums. That has been happening for the last two years. Recently, in one of his "information finding" sessions with a beautiful woman, Dagger discovered information that implicated the mutineers to be in an alliance with the resistance. He plans to inform the city council at their earliest convenience. However, he will be meeting with a city council member he never met with before -- Isis, who is rumored to be even younger than he is.

Fᴀᴍɪʟʏ﹕

>> Gyda Escarra; mother; dead; died sixteen years ago
>> Brynjar Escarra; father; dead; died sixteen years ago;
>>Astrid Escarra; sister; dead; died six years ago; (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]

"You have fun letting everyone else run your life. Me? I make my own choices."

[Ilsa]

Nᴀᴍᴇ﹕ Sadie Lou Markesan
Aʟɪᴀsᴇs ᴏʀ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs﹕ Carrot-top, copperhead, etc.

Aɢᴇ﹕ 18
Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ November 22nd
Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ 8:42 AM

Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ﹕ Female
Sᴇxᴜᴀʟ Oʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Heterosexual
Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs﹕ Single

Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕ Apathetic
Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Painter, aspiring novelist. She’s good, but not remarkable. Generally can keep enough money from her art in her pocket to be self-sufficient, but still receives support from her parents. At least she isn’t a thug.
Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs﹕ Writing and Drawing, very artistic

Iᴍᴀɢᴇ﹕

Wʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ Dᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Green eyes, mess of curly bright red hair down her shoulders, clothes splattered with paint, pearly skin, distant gaze, slender
Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ﹕ 5’7
Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ﹕ Viria’s Rachel Elizabeth Dare

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ﹕ Sadie is the full package. Brain, guts, skill, but a temper as deep as the ocean to boot. Unlike her twin brother, she’s easily angered and frustrated, although she’s constantly trying to balance herself out and focus on what really matters. Sadie is generally really open to people, no matter who, which leaves her open for attack, and she got hurt so much when she was younger, that now she’s quite a bit hardened. However, she still maintains that spark of generosity.

Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ﹕ Sadie was born to Elian, the Police Commissioner –more of a figurehead title than anything, but still a functional part of the City Council. As children, she and her twin were constantly together, primped and pampered, forced into molds that couldn’t contain them. As she and her brother age, they’re both faced with the struggle of trying to get the other to fill their father’s footsteps in, as neither want to be political targets for ridicule. Thus, Sadie paints and writes, trying to seem too flutterbrained or idealistic for the position her father wants one of them to fill, while her twin, he brawls and is generally in his father’s prison more often than his house. Both, through one way or another, want independence from their father’s antics to groom at least one of them for political life. They both moved out, but only Eliza has a maintainable income, and support from her parents, as long as she visits them on occasion. Her brother? He lives on the streets and tries to avoid society as much as possible. It’s a mess. So why get involved? Descendants of one of the original ten, Eliza de Markesan, Sadie and her twin have strong magic in their blood, and would be great pieces in play, if it weren’t for the wall. Almost because of this fact, they often find themselves in situations they don’t much like.

[Ilsa]

Nᴀᴍᴇ﹕ Nikolai Terrence Markesan
Aʟɪᴀsᴇs ᴏʀ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs﹕ Nick, Ickie, etc.

Aɢᴇ﹕ 18
Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ November 22nd
Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ 8:39 AM

Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ﹕ Male
Sᴇxᴜᴀʟ Oʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Heterosexual
Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs﹕ Single

Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕ Apathetic
Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Unemployed –generally, his lifestyle is funded by his parents or sister.
Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs﹕ Fighting, brawling, trying not to be the pampered rich kid.

Iᴍᴀɢᴇ﹕

Wʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ Dᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ﹕
Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ﹕ 5’10”
Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ﹕ Viria’s Nico diAngelo

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ﹕ If he weren’t so against it, Terrence would make a fantastic politician. He’s the best at pickpocketing and petty theft, great at street fighting and evasion –though not so well that his father can’t hunt him down, and generally quite the rebel. Terrence, however, wants nothing to do with society or any of these messed up people. He despises almost everyone he meets, and only holds his sister in some light regard. Most nights, he can find a warm meal and a bed at her small apartment, though it pains him to see her attempts to turn one meal into two, so generally he avoids relying on her until he must. He maintains communication with her, but tries not to be too much of a burden.

Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ﹕ Terrence was born to Elian, the Police Commissioner –more of a figurehead title than anything, but still a functional part of the City Council. As children, he and his twin were constantly together, primped and pampered, forced into molds that couldn’t contain them. As he and her sister age, they’re both faced with the struggle of trying to get the other to fill their father’s footsteps in, as neither want to be political targets for ridicule. Thus, Sadie paints and writes, trying to seem too flutterbrained or idealistic for the position her father wants one of them to fill, while her twin, he brawls and is generally in his father’s prison more often than his house. Both, through one way or another, want independence from their father’s antics to groom at least one of them for political life. They both moved out, but only Sadie has a maintainable income, and support from her parents, as long as she visits them on occasion. Her brother? He lives on the streets and tries to avoid society as much as possible. It’s a mess. So why get involved? Descendants of one of the original ten, Eliza de Markesan, Sadie and Terrence have strong magic in their blood, and would be great pieces in play, if it weren’t for the wall. Almost because of this fact, they often find themselves in situations they don’t much like.

[[deleted user]]

"No one should be damned for his/her/their opinions, and everyone should be able to say whatever the fuck they want. Why else would I do what I do?

Nᴀᴍᴇ﹕ Sabien Triste
Aʟɪᴀsᴇs ᴏʀ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs﹕ Sabrina Affini, Sable Outlawe


"'Cause what does it matter if I get hurt? I've already lived longer than so many others."

Aɢᴇ﹕ 25
Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ June 17
Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ 17:49


"But why would I need to do that? Everyone else is doing it, and I'm me."

Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ﹕ Female
Sᴇxᴜᴀʟ Oʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Panromantic Pansexual
Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs﹕ Single, destined for Brax


"The whole world is shit. Why the fuck do you think we all need to be able to think our own thoughts about it?

Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕ Neutral because she believes taking a side limits freedom of conscience. She also feels both sides takes care of some groups well and other groups terribly.
Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Owns "The Coffee Break" and "Speak Easy"
Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs﹕ Reading, people watching, learning, keeping informed, listening to music, learning people's stories, keeping track of people's stories via writing, journalism, generally pissing people off, orating


Wʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ Dᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ﹕

Sabien's the persona the dictates how she looks. As Sabien, she has short hair. Black as ink, just like her own always was. She wears understated clothes, too -- hoodies, baggy jeans. Nothing that pops. As Sabrina, she utilizes a wig with long black hair. She wears false glasses. She wears goofy pro-city council t-shirts and somewhat ridiculous pencil skirts. But as Sable, that's when she truly expresses herself. She wears a wig with dyed hair, long and straight. She adores this wig. She wears basically anything -- some days, she chooses one thing and the next, she'd choose something nothing alike. Sable is chaos, and to Sabien, true self-expression. However, no matter which identity she is using, her eyes are the same. Dark brown and rather stunning in their own way.

Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ﹕ 5'2"
Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ﹕ Lily Allen




"I am Sabien. I am Sabrina. I am Sable. But Sable is the only time I ever get to tell you who I truly am."

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ﹕

Sabien feels like Sable is who she truly is. Sable is the one where she can express who she is. Sable is the personality she tries so hard to keep the city council from ever learning about. But no matter which of her masks she wears, one thing is very certain: freedom of conscience, the ability to have one's own thoughts that are different from those of other people, is the most important value in existence.

Genuine? She can do genuine when it suits her but only when it suits her. Because she needs to keep her three lives "separate" she often has to lie a lot. However, in order to make up for it, she does tend to be rather honest to the point of being rather blunt when she does not have to lie to further her own interests. As Sabien, she doesn't even speak because Sabien is a mouse. She wishes she did not have to lie, but she feels that the freedom of conscience is a goal that must be reached even through telling falsehoods.

She is fairly intelligent even though she never had the work ethic to be at the top of her class. She is, however, well-informed. She reads all the newspapers given by the city council and any random resistance pamphlets. She also listens to what all of her patrons have to say. This way, she can figure out which of her salons they would enjoy the most (if she deems them worthy). She is also rather practical. She likes to look at things from multiple perspectives, and she tries to keep all her salons as safe as possible -- which means she has learned not to trust anyone fully. That is a burden that weighs on her.

Fᴀᴍɪʟʏ﹕

>>Alyx Marc Triste; father; dead; (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]
>>Prewett Artem Triste; father; dead; (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]

[[deleted user]]

"I became noticeable. Attention happened. It was meant to be the opposite, but it's a skill I've learned. I can't say I'm not just a little bit proud."

Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ﹕

The story of Sabien's parents was much like Cinderella, palace and all. One of her fathers, Prewett, was rich, almost as rich as a person could get within the city. Her other father, Alyx, was a boy from the Outskirts who happened to be hired by one of Prewett's neighbors. At one of the skyscraper-wide parties, Alyx dressed as a rich girl and spent the entire night with Prewett. Sabien's parents' love affair was thereafter fast and sordid until they one day eloped. It was only after the marriage that Prewett learned where Alyx was from, but he couldn't care less. He was in love.

The couple quickly realized they wanted children. They tried various things, including a surrogate. And they tried adoption, too, but Prewett's family would vut them off if they adopted a kid from the Middle City Slums -- they could scarcely stand Alyx. However, they did not have enough to continue with their current lifestyle without money, so they decided to wait until they were older to adopt a child. Wait until both of Prewett's parents were dead so they could not be cut off from his inheritance.

Prewett's parents finally died when Prewett was 53 and Alyx was 47. They went searching through the lrphanage to find a kid they liked, and they found Sabien. Sabien's own parents had been two women (one having been artificially inseminated), but the one had died in childbirth and the other had lost the will to live. Sabien had still been less than a year old when she was adopted, and she would never have any memory of what the orphanage was like. I stead, she would grow up having excess.

Sable was out-spoken from an early age to say the very least. She was unafraid of voicing her opinions -- to the point where both of her very supportive fathers told her not to express her opinions. Sable didn't see the point in not voicing her opinions, including those that went against the city council (something no one really freely expressed for fear of being tortured to death as an example. Sable still wouldn't stop doing it at home or in public places. So her fathers unanimously decided that their little girl had to stay in their flat. Of course, that just meant that she was not going to know social cues or have much interaction with people.

But they couldn't keep her entirely from society. Prewett loved reading newspapers, and he got city council pamphlets while Alyx had a tendency to get resistance ones. So while she had little exposure to society, she was hardly ignorant. In fact, she was probably more well-informed than most people her own age and probably more than a good chunk of adults, too. She had this need to know what was going on and a need to be able to make her own opinions on every subject.

And then school started, and it was like a foreign world to Sable. She realized exactly how rich her family was even if they did often prefer to be a bit more understated in their tastes. But everywhere there were signs of poverty -- that homeless man getting arrested in Sapphire Park, the criminal undertones The Soul and the Dragon was rumored to have, her fathers' rules saying she was not allowed to leave the Heart of the City. It made no sense to here. Weren't they all people? Why did some get to live in nice conditions and others in an utter shithole? She thought it was stupid and decided that she wanted to figure out a way for people to voice their complaints.

But of course, as an eight-year-old, she could not exactly make good on any of these wishes. And she was an expressive kid still and she didn't filter her words before saying them. Kids left her alone for a good chunk of the time. But they teased her, too. And some seemed to be her friends, but then she heard shit rumors about her floating through the hallways. But it wasn't that that made her truly doubt the world. That came at thirteen.

At thirteen, she decided she wanted everyone to leave her alone.

So she made herself stand out to the extreme. She dyed her hair and started wearing a cloak -- all the same day, a day that was seemingly insignificant.

But for Sabien, it changed everyone. Even that very same day, her life was changed. Instead of avoiding her and teasing her for her opinions, people were almost . . . in awe of her. People came up to her, started talking to her. Sabien was not sure what to do with the sudden attention. How could she know? No one had ever paid attention to her like this before. She just sort of said words. She didn't exactly tell them exactly how pathetic she thought they were -- she was sure they were only talking to her for the reasons she thought they'd ignore her, that she was different from them.

She even made "friends." She used that term loosely since all of them flocked to her after the cloak. She doubted they cared so much about her as being seen with someone the school seemed to view almost as a hero. She doubted the people and the world more than she had already, and her opinions she voiced even more loudly. Until she was fourteen, and it well-nigh got her and her family into a shitload of trouble.

She could remember the police officer knocking on the door to their flat. She could remember the terror as she looked out her window and as Prewett told her to go to her room and wait. She hid behind her bed. She sobbed, something she had not even done when people had spread nasty rumors about her. She didn't get what she'd done wrong -- she was just being herself. What was so fucking wrong about that? About thirty minutes later, Alyx came in and told her that it was okay, that they'd just gotten a warning and that she couldn't express her opinion like that again.

Sable was pissed that she could not express who she was or say the things she liked. So all at once she decided if that she couldn't express her opinions, then there was no reason for her to talk at all. So for an entire year, she communicated only with gestures and did not utter a single word. Her fathers were, understandably, rather disconcerted by the dramatic change. But she could not be dissuaded, and her displeasure, that was made even more blatant.

At fifteen, she started talking again, but she decided that if she were to be truly informed, truly able to understand the world and to make her own opinions on it, she needed to understand how people lived. She had never truly cared for the wealth of the Heart of the City anyway. Leaving only a short note for Alyx and Prewett to find, she slipped out the window. She spent a single year at the Middle City Slums orphanage of her own volition.

That was interesting to say the least. And it was shocking. Eye-opening. She had grown up with the police having only a little presence in the streets. In the Slums, they were everywhere. The streets made everyone afraid. Sabien was not tough, not like the kids were there. And she could respect, and hearing their stories, she had no doubts about why they were like that. That was when she first started recording people's stories. She wanted to learn more about them.

A year happened and she turned sixteen. She opted to leave the Middle City Slums -- there was still another part of the city she had not been to. And she needed to rectify that. The people there had less even that the orphanage had, but she noticed one key difference: the people were happy. And of all the places she lived, Sabien was sure that she honestly preferred the Outskirts. It was unpretentious, and people were nice.

She never would have gone back to the Heart of the City if she had not hear the news -- Alyx and Prewett were killed in a car crash while having a date. And she was now the sole inheritor. She didn't want to return to the Heart of the City, but having that much money would not have worked in the Outskirts. But she had another idea -- a totally wild one, but she was instantly in love with it. She moved back into her childish home in order to complete it.

She started by creating a false identity for herself, birth certificates, medical records, everything. And this identity she made was Sabrina Affini, city council-loving geek girl. And under this disguise, she bought her first business, a cafe, which she called The Coffee Break. Despite the high prices to make all her coffee, Sabrina was able to finagle it so that she could give low enough prices for her coffee to be affordable to people from any selection (she may have a policy giving coffee free to those who can't pay). On Friday afternoons, she hosted a salon to discuss what the city council was doing right. Only people who were likely to be for the city council (and therefore not get themselves killed by more fanatic members).

But she also used the inheritance and profits to buy a studio flat nearby, which she made into another salon (that happened to offer coffee), which she named "Speak Easy." At Speak Easy, people would actually be able to express their opinions without needing to worry. However, some nights she would invite more of one group or another. It was because of this that she started watching people, trying to learn everything about them. She needed to know exactly to whom she should give invitations to different salons -- which ones they would fit in best at, if she could trust them, etc.

She was still seventeen when she met Lycus Linwood. She spotted him with a crowd gathered around him. He was clearly destitute, so she told him he could speak at a couple of her salons for a bit of money. She would never know that it was the job at her place that would allow him to stop being a prostitute and actually have enough money to get him and his sister out of their parents' flat.

For Sable, the next few years would be rather monotonous. She would, however, make her own establishments better. She created more escape routes. She would entrust a few people with each so that more people could get out if Speak Easy were ever stormed. Right around her twenty-third birthday, she had enough money to open up a new branch of The Coffee Break, which she created in the Outskirts. However, as tensions start to reach a fever pitch, her salons have become more vehement, even without Lycus there.

But as her salons become more violent, she begins to worry. Will she have to put a limit on the freedom of speech?

"I'd die for my art. If the city council or resistance learn I cater to both parties, are you really so naive to think it'd end well for me?

[[deleted user]]

(view spoiler)[This was made cause I was bored and I loved having an excuse to make a character with Adelaide Kane even if it meant a redo. Hehe. (hide spoiler)]

   

   

     




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❊ Snow Hales ❊ Resistance ❊ 26 ❊ Female ❊ Straight

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ I·ᴍ ᴄᴀᴜɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʀᴏssғɪʀᴇ ᴏf ᴍʏ ᴏᴡɴ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛs



                                                             

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ᴀɴᴅ ᴍʏ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ ɪs ᴀʟʟ I sᴇᴇ


[ T ] here is no denying that Snow is beautiful. With wavy dark hair that falls down and reaches a bit more than her shoulders, she usually keeps her hair curled and loose, and her dark brown eyes are paired with dark, thick lashes. She often dresses in old-fashioned clothes, and her sense of fashion is slightly different from rest. Her clothes usually depend on her mood.



▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ Aʟᴀʀᴍs ᴡɪʟʟ ʀɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ᴇᴛᴇʀɴɪᴛʏ

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ Tʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴠᴇs ᴡɪʟʟ ʙʀᴇᴀᴋ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏ ᴄʜᴀɪɴ ᴏɴ ᴍᴇ

[ S ] now is naturally optimistic and gentle. She tries to see the best in everyone, and tries to find the sky in every storm. For her, hope is the one thing she clings onto.



ＣＩＰＡ, or Congenital insensitivity to pain with anhidrosis, is an absolutely rare disease that prevents any sort of physical feelings from the nerves. Hence, Snow cannot feel pain, cold, heat, sweat, etc or any sort of nerve related sensation.


[ H ] owever on the contrary, the disease makes her sicker than most. People with this disorder are very likely to injure themselves in ways that would normally be prevented by feeling pain. She could burn themselves severely and not even notice. The main features of the disorder are lack of pain sensation, painless injuries of the arms, legs structures, hyperthermia during hot weather because of inability to sweat, syndromic intellectual disability as a result of hyperthermia, infection and scarring of the tongue, lips and gums, chronic infections of bones and joints, bone fractures, multiple scars, osteomyelitis and joint deformities, which Snow was lucky enough not to have.

[ S ] he didn't get the worst of it, but she did get it bad enough. She can't take heat, and her temperature drops rapidly. Despite her illness, she tries her best to help ▬▬▬ she loves to help, which is why she sometimes goes to the medicine center and treats patients. She is known for her kindness and soft-spoken words.

[ S ]he is very loyal to her friends, and also attached. She never gives up on a job she's set on. She never ever breaks a promise and her constant determination to get the job done sometimes puts her in harm's way.


[ L ] ove is rare for Snow; nobody wants to be with an insensitive patient. But there was one exception she would never forget ▬▬▬▬ Ezra.



▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ Tʜᴇ ʟᴏsᴛ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍs ᴀʀᴇ ʙᴜʀɪᴇᴅ ɪɴ ᴍʏ sʟᴇᴇᴘ ғᴏʀ ʜɪᴍ



[ E ] zra was perfect for her. They met at 14, and he was so loving, so considerate, and they were perfect together. He listened to her, helped her, and was there by her side every time she fell apart.



Orphaned since a young age and living with a neglectful aunt had toughened her and she learnt the hard way to take care of herself, but with him, she felt at ease, like it was home. It wasn't long till he got one knee and asked the question; they were young but they were so in love, it didn't matter, not anymore. Everything was going perfectly, until the stress kicked in.

Ezra was insistent on 'curing her'. His intentions may have been good but Snow knew no treatment in this world would help her. However, Ezra kept pushing and hoping, and that got on her nerves. He did not accept no for an answer and kept pushing for her to get better, which was unsuccessful. This suspicion grew and grew before she, heartbroken that he can't accept the disease, broke the engagement off and left. This was when she was 17 and she moved into the city.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ тнιѕ wαѕ тнe ecѕтαѕy oғ α love ғorɢoттeɴ



[ I ] t was difficult, but she moved on from Ezra. Sometimes she's still clouded by regrets, but she's moved on to her hobbies; helping people, dancing, reading, and practicing medicine.


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ɢᴏᴅ ᴋɴᴏᴡs I·ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅʏɪɴɢ ʙᴜᴛ I ʙʟᴇᴇᴅ ɴᴏᴡ

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▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Aɴᴅ ɢᴏᴅ ᴋɴᴏᴡs ɪᴛs ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴛᴏ ʜᴇᴀʟ ɴᴏᴡ

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

Potrayed by Adelaide Kane

Theme song; ᴍʏ ʙʟᴏᴏᴅ

[Savannah W ~]

✤ "We all have secrets, imperfections, and fears. Me? I decided long ago to never reveal or show any of the three. But know, they are there. They do exist. No one is perfect, especially not me." ✤

✤ "Everyone’s pettiness is a hindrance to the bigger picture—the picture I seem to be alone in trying to paint." ✤

❧ Full Name: Holland Shepard
↬ Alliances {nicknames}: Holly
❧ Age: Twenty-one { 21 }
↬ Birthday: May 23rd



❧ Gender: Female {♀}
↬ Sexuality: Heterosexual
↬ Involvement: Currently Holland is not involved with anyone.
↬ Infatuation: Not crushing on anyone as of right now.

✤ "Child’s play, all of it—do they even know what they stand for? Does anyone?" ✤

❧ Allegiance: Neither the Council nor the Resistance, really.
↬ When asked to pick between one corruption and another, is there a point in siding? Holland is well aware the way their city runs is flawed to an extreme sort, so she does not support the Council for their poor management. The Resistance, however, is just as bad. The lengths they take to try and get their point across—which is what, exactly? Freedom? Look what they are willing to do when there are rules looming over their head. It would be a shit show to give them full reign, would it not? Humanity functions best when it’s guided…when there are rules. There needs to be a new form of government all together—one that actually strives for the bettering of things.

✤ “You’re going to die—no possible way to save you, not even from me.” ✤

➟ Occupation: Officially, Holland works at the Hospital. It’s spread quickly that if you want to live, cross your fingers and hope Holland is willing to treat you. If there is any possible way of saving you, she can do it. If she says there is no hope for you, consider yourself dead.

✤ “Saving lives is a side job, really. Advancement takes my primary interest.”✤

↬ Polymathy: Holland is not limited to a set field of study. Due to her prodigy level intellect, she practically absorbs knowledge. Much of her research and creations are kept on the hush. Being known as the life-saving doctor is one thing, but being known as a person who can create revolutionary tech or bio products…it’s quite another.



❧ Likes:
✓ Coming up with something new {creating through experimentation and crafting}
✓ Medical mysteries
✓ Pathology
✓ Tequila
✓ Laughing {relaxing}
✓ Dancing {ballet}

❧ Dislikes:
✗ Hypocrites
✗ Suicide {it’s a waste of potential}
✗ Socks with holes in the toes
✗ Selfishness
✗ Losing

❧ Appearance:

✤ “Please, I’m gorgeous.”✤

(view spoiler)[


(hide spoiler)]
║ Holland’s appearance often misleads others as to what she is capable of. Being so small and attractive immediately writes off the possibility that she can kill someone twice her size. She carries enough confidence to make her seem taller than anyone. Despite her eyes not being a beautiful shade of blue or green, Holland’s chocolate eyes are rather captivating, having flakes of gold scattered throughout the irises while the whites of her eyes are pure and untainted with red veins. She has a rather small frame, which makes her easier to hold down, but makes her capable of quicker and more agile motions. Overall, Holland can be described as beautiful and dangerously underestimated. ║
↬ Hair: Holly’s hair is a darker shade of brown. It usually either bares worn down curls that give it a wavy appearance or appears straighter in style.
↬ Eyes: Her eyes are a shade of deep chocolate that holds flakes of gold littered within them.
↬ Height: 5'3.5"
↬ Weight: 114.5 lbs
↬ Face Claim: Summer Glau

❧ Personality:

Holland comes off as cleverly playful, enjoying life when she can, trying not to let the negatives take a tight hold of her. It's difficult to uncover Holland's motives if she holds a deeper one than what she expresses; she’s quite a challenge to read and figure out. This is how she likes it. Being a bit of a mystery to others, forcing them to keep guessing and trying to pin down who Holland is, is her preference. There tends to be a small, almost sly, smile gracing her features that both causes the heart to skip a beat and irritation, since no one knows why the sly tint exists. If one must know, there are many different reasons why she may be wearing such a smile. So it would be hard to ever figure out a specific one for a situation without knowing Holland well--very well.

Just like all, Holland's attitude can shift anywhere mildly to drastically. Though Holland’s buttons are quite easy to press at times, she tries and remain calm; however, her playfulness often converts to a cold, yet clever, sort. She tries to act with just her words, but be advised to never push Holland too far. She has a few notable incidents where it was not just her words that hurt. The girl can handle herself and can handle nearly anything thrown her way, even if it's done in anger towards her.

Holland has a high curiosity, liking to know more than she should. It's a draw, knowledge and learning new skill sets; one she can't escape. But why would she want to? Advancing one's self is not a bad thing. Then again, curiosity is more than capable of killing. For those who aren’t aware she is an intellectual prodigy of sorts, they may not pin her to be one. She hides it well. Her mind is tactical, always a few steps at the least ahead. Her strategic ways carries her to a goals. There is always motive, always some driving force behind Holland's actions. She does not mind stepping on toes, or rather crushing them and their owners to get to what she is after. Standing in her way is not advised.

[Savannah W ~]

❧ Backstory:

║Childhood to Tweenhood║

Holland grew up in a decent family, wealth and parental wise, so the worries of money or lack of love were never pushed onto her. Rather, the worries Holland got came when it was evident she was smart. Books were a gateway to knowledge, but most of her intellectual excel was brought about from hands-on involvement. When others got tried of trying to teach someone who was beyond their years already, Holland’s mother, Nancy, and father, Kyle, had to take her to their worksites, her mom’s being the hospital and dad’s a mechanic shop. Needless to say, she got to dig her fingers into many things.

However, it was the access to various chemicals, devices, parts, and what not that ultimately started to gain others’ notice of Holland. Once eyes began their watch, her parents told her to be discrete. There were vultures who sought talent like it was rotting eyeballs, and Holland wasn’t going to be one of their meals. In front of others, she slacked, seeping into the ‘average’ crowd. Despite how tactless it was, Holland even sucked it up and went to school, ultimately learning nothing new. But over the years, she became careless.

At the age of fifteen, someone stumbled upon one of her ‘little’ experiments she had left out at her mother’s work relating to her study of cancer cells: how they grew so rapidly, how they lived through near everything, and how to employ this into biologically constructed medicine that was capable of healing wounds. A thick gel that could be mushed into a wound to heal flesh? It was noteworthy, though it was incomplete. There were still lacks in the experiment.

When her mother was approached by a fancy dressed man about the project, asking who was heading it, Holland’s mom lied and said it was her. The man insisted strongly Nancy continue her research under them, and she said she would consider it. That night, Holland woke up to see a shadowed figure creeping through her window. In the dull glow of moonlight coming through the open panel, the figure paused, looking to the wide-eyed girl. The intruder brought a finger to its lips and quietly ‘hushed’ at Holland before continuing through her room.

Be smart about this, she thought. Screaming would only cause the person to come back to kill her—but not alerting her family could result in something just as bad. Despite being brilliant, a fifteen year old girl who lived a fairly sheltered life wasn’t fit to process what was best to do. Carefully, she stepped from bed and eased to her now open door. Walking down the hall, Holland peeked into her parents’ room.

She could only watch as the figure pointed what she knew had to be a small caliber gun. Two muffled ‘pops’, sounds that haunt her dreams still, filled the stiff air. A quiet gasp leaked from her lips, gaining attention from the person. In three long strides, the figure was before Holland, silencer pressed to her forehead. One. Two…three. Three seconds passed of motionlessness and heavy silence in which the figure held the hot barrel to her skin. To her shock, the person lowered the weapon and walked around her, leaving Holland alone. Alone in the house that had her dead parents’ bodies, parents who were dead because of something she created.

║Teen to Adult ║
After the untimely death of her parents, Holland’s older brother, Wesley, took her in. She became rather troubled for a while, not speaking often and never smiling. The most disturbing thing, though, was Holland stopped pursuing her gift. No more culture growth, DNA splicing, or tinkering for her. It was those things that caused her mother and father to be murdered—how could she ever do any of it again? To keep Holland from falling into darker tracks, Wes urged her to try something else to keep her mind off things. Thus came her ballet days. The graceful movements, the way the world disappeared with each twirl, it was the perfect escape.

When he noticed his sister starting to ‘return’, seeing a smile from time to time, Wes decided it was time to push Holland to learn self-defense. He told her to focus all her anger, all her grief—everything into fighting. The bottled emotions mixed with ballet and her ability to process information she sees in quick spurts lead to quite a deadly little thing. Granted, Holland wouldn’t be winning brawls with the best of them anytime soon, but she was now plenty capable of defending herself when needed.

She gradually stepped back into her former loves. It began with her job at the hospital. Taking small steps, she stared with just saving people from simple injuries, then surgical related tasks, and finally she found herself back in the lab.



❧ Family:
↬ Father: Kyle Shepard; deceased at age 45.
↬ Mother: Nancy Shepard; deceased at age 40
↬ Brother: Wesley Shepard; Alive, age 27


❧ Friends: {open for collabs}
↬
↬

❧ Enemies: {open for collabs}
↬

[Savannah W ~]

❖ “I can’t help that I was raised to give a fuck about what happens while others weren’t.”❖



║❖║ Name ║❖║ Wesley Shepard
↬ Nickname: ↠↠ Wes ↠↠ Shepard {work related}



║❖║ Age ║❖║ Twenty-Seven { 27 }
↬ Date of Birth: June 16th
↬ Time of Birth: 2:34 PM



║❖║ Gender ║❖║ Male
↬ Sexuality: Straight
↬ Availability: Currently Wes is single.



║❖║ Alliance ║❖║ Technically, The Council.
↬ Wes is one that has to believe in something. There’s not much to grasp onto in their city. There’s the Council and there’s the Resistance. If everyone sucked it up and tried to abide by the rules, there wouldn’t be a reason to resist. Wes realizes this, despite what he wants to believe, still isn’t true. Even if everyone followed the rules, the Council isn’t the type to like peace. But still, the boy hopes that maybe they can evolve and fix their leadership tactics.:
║❖║ Occupation ║❖║ Police Officer



↬ Dislikes:
✗Frankly, he hates bullies.
✗ Sociological warfare; considering the man isn’t just a hardass, he isn’t a fan of someone trying to twist and bend him through emotional trickery.
✗ Smoke, Wes hates the smell of smoke.
✗ Being sick and hazy.
✗Flickering lights—just fix the damn thing!
✗ Beer

↬ Likes:
✓Casual conversation; it makes him forget the world is so screwed up.
✓ Working on old cars; it reminds him of his father.
✓ Order {when things aren’t hitting the fan}
✓ A puzzle to solve {mainly related to cases}
✓ Music {listening to it, not trying to make it}



║❖║ Appearance ║❖║

(view spoiler)[



(hide spoiler)]

↬ Hair: Wesley’s hair is a darker brown in color and generally shorter, and there generally a bit of scruff on his jaw and chin.
↬ Eyes: Dark brown, nearing black.
↬ Weight: 202.5 ℓвѕ
↬ Height: 6'1.23"
↬ Blood type: O+
↬ Distinguished Marks (if any):
↬ Face claim: Brett Novek


║❖║ Personality ║❖║

※ "I wasn’t aware that I was supposed to be living by your standards." ※
When it comes to living, Wes doesn't believe in being someone he is not. Wesley would rather someone hate him for who he is rather than like him for something he’s not. So he tends to stick to his corky personality when he is out and about. Even when on the job, Tristan can be an easy going and upbeat guy to be around. However, as soon any shit starts to hit the fan, he switches into his serious, focused and driven side, often slipping into a darker place to ensure he gets his job done. Trying to get some form of order in their city is one of his top priorities, alongside his little sister.

※ "Did I know him? No. Am I upset? A bit." ※
More so than not, there will be a death within the city on any given day. It’s normal, and as such, people have forced themselves to not care—even when it’s someone they care about. But being raised in a decent home, loved by parents and relatively sheltered, Wes is one of the few who actually holds tight to humanity. So when he fails to stop a crime, resulting in the loss of a life, it’s not unusual for him to be a bit upset. He keeps from showing, but anyone who gets to know him can see the microexpressions that cross his features when something like this happens.

※ "Doesn't it bother you? I mean...shouldn’t we all be better than this?" ※
They have not known any life other than this one. Do what you got to do to get what’s yours—or for that matter, do what you got to do to get whatever the fuck you want. It’s that do or die sort of shit. But…why? Wes and his sister have a lot in common when it comes to their thoughts on the way the city runs. Perhaps it was because of their upbringing, or perhaps it’s because they are smart enough to realize that things could be better. He knows that there are those who actually like the way the world is, who like to go out and kill someone for no reason. It’s those twisted fucks who Wes doesn’t care for, who he would love to see dead.

※ “Don’t play innocent; we all have a darkness within us. Our lives basically require it." ※
Despite his overall good guy side, Wes, like most, has his dark side. When pushed, he does what he has to, despite if he wants to; plus it’s part of the job. Protect those who need it, right the wrongs in progress—do all the good possible, even if you have to do bad to do it. The man finds himself in a bar often after his shift. A little liquor can warm up the coldness of his actions.



║❖║ Background ║❖║

❖ “There are things I don't talk about because there are things I don't like to think about.”❖


Born into a decent off family, both loving and wealthy enough to not worry too much, Wes had a pretty nice childhood. He was a bright little boy, often enjoying helping his father out at the mechanics shop. The grease and idea of fixing up things that were broken or poor off, it was a dream place for a boy like him. Despite his parents wants to keep their firstborn safe, they knew they needed to let him start to see the world for what it was. They began to allow him to go over to friend’s houses and eventually let him venture down ‘safer’ areas of the city with his buddies.

But all shelters eventually break down. When Wes was in a corner store at the age of thirteen, a robbery took place. Before his innocent eyes, people were murdered. A hoodied guy approached Wes, aiming a sawed off double barrel shot gun at the kid. But before the trigger could be pulled, there was a high pitched whistle, a small ‘cracking sound’, and pause. Then, the guy collapsed—just fell to the floor. In shock, Wes stared at the motionless body. Red began to puddle around his head. That whistle…?

Looking to the glass window, Wes saw a small hole and his eyes widened. Sniper. The other two members of the robbery began to race through the store, heading for the back exit when they realized they were running out of time. A uniformed officer came through the front door and raced after the culprits. This was when Wes realized what he wanted to do—what he wanted to be. He wanted to be just like the people who saved his life. A police officer.

For the following years, Wes began training, learning to fight, studying tactics, working with weapons—anything that could help him he did. When he hit the age of sixteen, he was off to a small academy where the true trials began. The sheltered little boy grew up quick. Key moments in his life included his kill to help someone and his first accidental killing, both he doesn’t like to think about. The deaths in his life, both those at his hands and those he could not prevent, the man avoids thinking or talking about. No use in dwelling on the past, right?

When his parents were murdered, it hit Wesley hard. But he had to be strong for his little sister, Holland. At first he tried to get her to talk about what happened so he could try and figure out why someone would kill two of the kindest people around. His sister wasn’t up for talking, and he understood that feeling. So he backed off, despite the dying need to know why this happened so he could find who did this. He never let it go, but he forced himself to focus on making sure Holland would be okay. He encouraged her to take up a new hobby and to learn how to defend herself.

After his sister had glued herself together, Wesley let his sights fall back to digging up the truth to his parents’ murders. Holland told him the reason she believed they were killed, but Wes had this tugging feeling that there was more to it. So when he’s not on duty, he’s working on the cold case.



║❖║ Family ║❖║
↬ Father: Kyle Shepard; deceased.
↬ Mother: Nancy Shepard; deceased.
↬ Younger sister: Holland Shepard; Alive, age 21.



↬ Weaknesses:
✗He tends to be too curious.
✗Wes tends to drown his sorrows in liquor.
✗Kids. Children are a huge weakness of his.
✗Women. Just like his weakness for children, Wes has a weakness for woman. He feels the need to protect them at all costs.
✗His little sister and his friends.



↬ Strengths:
✓Wes is rather good at what he does, from hand to hand combat, weapons, and tactical thinking.
✓Wes is rather strong and capable of holding his own in a fight if need be.
✓He is driven and determined, not accepting defeat until there is nothing else but defeat left.
✓Wesley is loyal and tends to put off a trusting vibe that lures others to him and allows them to let down their guard.
✓Wes took up a fascination with sniper rifles, becoming one of the top sharp shooters in the city.

[[deleted user]]

(view spoiler)[Thanks to KT for dividers, and Midnight for title box inspiration! (hide spoiler)]

I'm a princess cut from marble

And the scars that mark my body, they're silver and gold

  

Smoother than a storm

     


                                    ┌                                                                             ┐


                                                      Ɛ ѕєƖια   A мєƖια   Ｇ яуηη


                                    └                                                                             ┘


                              ( ♀ ) ᴀ ɢ ᴇ ; 21 × sᴛʀᴀɪɢʜᴛ × ｎｅｕｔｒａｌ × Ｅѕѕιє


                                                          Pᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ｔａｌｋ ᴛᴏ ᴍᴇ




      


                                                          ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ єνєя ｈｉｔｓ нσᴍᴇ

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ᴀᴘᴘᴇᴀʀᴀɴᴄᴇ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

Any one can be beautiful by visual features, but Eselia is much more than that. Everything she feels, everything she thinks ━━ her soul reflects on her face, as her mother used to say. With auburn, tangled hair cascading down her shoulder in waves, it often frames her pale face, which is complimented by a frequent flush, paired with sea green eyes. Since she's usually concerned of her health, her habit of morning and evening runs, she usually has a skinny, petite figure. She has one birthmark running down her arm, a rather strange crisscross one, that she usually hides with sleeves. Its nothing too severe-looking or ugly, just pale and cream-colored, slightly rimmed with pink, but she's not a fan of it and is often insecure about it.

She's often found wearing casual clothes, nothing too fancy, but usually in blues or yellow; it compliments her skin and her hair.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

Nicknamed Essie by her loving parents, the way she was raised made her gentle, kind, and wise. She's usually soft-spoken, and the cruel world she lives in failed to toughen or hurt her. On the contrary, she finds a silver lining in every storm, and sees the good in everyone instead of the bad. Some might call it naïve, but as her father put it, the world needed optimistic people like her, especially in these times.

  

Eselia can be incredibly stubborn and determined at times. Once she makes up her mind, nobody and nothing can change it. She's perfect at everything she tries for and is quite confident in her value. She knows her full capability and often explores it. Once she sets a goal, she will go to any length to achieve it; one negative trait about her is that her determination can sometimes put her in harm's way.

┏━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ H I S T O R Y ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━┓

Eselia is the youngest of her sisters, and perhaps the most loved. Her three sisters, Amelia and Flora, did not have the privilege to grow up like her. Amelia, the oldest, was taught how to fight since a young child, whereas Flora was taught to be the smart one, and Eselia was free to do whatever she chose. This sparked a jealousy between the three sisters; Amelia envied Eselia as Eselia got the freedom she wanted, Flora envied Amelia as she always wanted to learn how to fight and Eselia envied Amelia as she always wanted to be educated.



However, they were still a very happy family. Eselia was raised gently, and grew to be beautiful like the rest of her family. They all inherited her mother's beautiful silky hair brown hair and their father's wistful green eyes; they all had florescent skin and they all looked like angels. However, growing up, Amelia became the 'odd one out'. Amelia became leaner, tougher, and less social until she stopped coming to the dinner table, and stopped speaking to them all together.


One night, when Eselia, upset that Amelia wasn't talking to her, went to confront her. It quickly turned into an ugly argument. Amelia 'blamed' Eselia and Flora, saying that they were naïve and blind to the cruelties of the world. Even though sometimes Eselia thought that herself she denied it repeatedly, trying to calm her sister down. However, Amelia's words were rushing out; she told how she hated Eselia because she has the freedom Amelia wanted, how she was always so loved whereas all Amelia faced was endless stress, all because she was the oldest. Hurt, Eselia retaliates by mentioning how it sucks to be in her position -- uneducated and defenseless, like a sheep ready to slaughter. Both of them raging with fury, they walked away, a distance forming between them.

   


A ridge formed between all three sisters, especially after Amelia became a legalized adult and moved away. Eselia grew closer to her parents, sparking another flare of envy between Flora and Eselia. Eselia, sick of being naïve, sometimes escaped out to the world, mainly the outskirts, to see as much as she can. She loved touring, and she loves wandering around; all she wanted to do was just see the world, experience it.


Things got harder when Flora moved away. The sisters were never close but she did love her. Amelia lost touch with her whole family, upsetting Eselia even more especially since she was soon to be 16 as well and worried she would detach from her family. At 16 she moved away and began studying as much as she can, worrying it would be too late.



Other than her history was somewhat plain, only tainted by family problems. She's still somewhat close to her parents and has absolutely no interest or contact for her siblings. She resents how she became detached from them but also detests them for losing contact.

[[deleted user]]

(view spoiler)[ Thanks to Chrys for this template! (hide spoiler)]

 

         I N G R I D   L I A   M I K E A L S


                              ━ [  ♛  ] ━

❛ i was created to strip lungs of their breath, to destroy pretty little things and burn them to the ground. to bring the world to its knees and hear my name spoken only in fearful whispers. i was created human, but i was made to

ʙᴇ ᴀ monster ;

    

   I guess I am a heartless human


    ▬ ᴀsʜᴇs ғᴇʟʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ sɴᴏᴡ ▬

    [ 21, female, straight, assassinator ]


         ᴘ ᴏ ʀ ᴛ ʀ ᴀ ʏ ᴇ ᴅ   by   cʀʏsᴛᴀʟ rᴇᴇᴅ

  


▬▬ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ɢᴏᴏᴅʙʏᴇ ᴡᴀs ᴀ ᴍɪsᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴛᴏᴏ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ᴛᴏ ʜɪᴅᴇ ▬▬

‘‘ Ingrid was raised since a young age to be one of the bad guys. It didn't matter she was with the resistance because her parents were neutral. Instead of toys she played with stakes. Instead of tea parties she practiced defense. Instead of friends she had weapons. Instead of leisure, she studied which part of the body is most vulnerable and fatal. She was raised to assassinate people of all sides - resistance, neutral and council.

You'd think that would scar or irritate someone but when one person tells you the same thing over and over, bit by bit, you believe it. By now, she herself is convinced she belongs to murder, to blood; she's ready to obey any orders from the council and the resistance, though she does prefer the resistance better. Pricks of guilt slides into her conscience but to push it away, she spends her time shooting, or just reading. Reading helps.


Her parents were assassinators themselves but moved back from the business after giving birth to Ingrid. They spent years of their expertise on her and Ingrid strives to make her parents proud. Its her goal, other than her aim for recognition. Her history was uneventful; she seldom fell in love, was loyal to both sides especially the resistance, and had no leisure whatsoever. Her life spent away as she crawled out of her cocoon and spread her wings; its her time to fly and find her prey.

[ aᴅᴏʀᴇs -- reading, archery, attention, the woods


[ aʙʜᴏʀᴇs -- darkness, weakness, fright, insecurities


[ fᴏʀᴛᴇs -- archery, combat fighting, shooting, her job


[ fᴀᴜʟᴛs -- determination, desire for attention, excess obedience, lack of expression of own opinion

 





i ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴇᴀᴄʜ ғʟᴀsʜ ᴀs ᴛɪᴍᴇ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ ᴛᴏ blur ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━─

‘‘ What Ingrid desires, what Ingrid wants, what she needs, is recognition. She wants to be taken care of, and she doesn't want to exist but to live. She's determined to get the job done, despite the constant needles of guilt, and her determination can sometimes get her in harm's way. She reveals nothing about herself, has no friends or relationships, and may seem plain but she's very layered.

At first she's observant. She sees you, notices you weakness, exploits your strengths, tests your fear.

First impression; she's guarded, tells little about herself and knows more about you. She's a sin eater; she observes mistakes and amendments and exploits all your vulnerability. Second impression; she sees if you're worthy of killing. If you're worthy of being killed, if you're worthy of torture or mercy. It all depends on the client really.

Third Impression; she delivers the message. She makes sure there is no pulse, no heartbeat. She keeps in you a rotten location and sets fire, and watches it burn and melt to the ground and walks away, feeling strikes of pride and guilt.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━ like ᴀ sᴛᴀʀᴛʟɪɴɢ sɪɢɴ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ ғᴀᴛᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ғɪɴᴀʟʟʏ ғᴏᴜɴᴅ me

[ pᴀʀᴇɴᴛ -- mother -- father


[ sɪʙʟɪɴɢ -- no sister -- nobrother


[ rᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴠᴇ -- none -- in contact

 


   ▬▬▬▬▬▬ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ғʟᴏᴏᴅs ᴄʀᴏss ᴛʜᴇ ᴅɪsᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ ɪɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴇʏᴇs ▬▬▬▬▬▬

❛ i was created to strip lungs of their breath, to destroy pretty little things and burn them to the ground. to bring the world to its knees and hear my name spoken only in fearful whispers. i was created human, but i was made to

ʙᴇ ᴀ monster ;

; pᴏᴡᴇʀ / sᴋɪʟʟ ] -- her weapon of choice depends on client and mission, but she's especially fluent with archery, and bullets. Its cleaner and she doesn't have to have direct contact with her victims.

; pᴏᴡᴇʀ / sᴋɪʟʟ ] -- she's especially amazing at combat and other than archery, masters all range of knife work, hand combat, blowtorch and arson if necessary.

; pᴏᴡᴇʀ / sᴋɪʟʟ ] -- she can be dramatic at times, but her way of method is sometimes very merciful as otherwise she cannot sleep and even if she does, her sleep is stalked by nightmares.

 


▬▬▬▬▬▬ ʀᴇᴀᴄʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʀᴜᴛʜ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ʟɪᴇs ᴀᴄʀᴏss ᴛʜɪs ɴᴇᴡ ᴅɪᴠɪᴅᴇ ▬▬▬▬▬▬

[mariah ash ♡ (i’m back from hiatus)]

Name: Cassandra Devereaux
Aliases or Nicknames: Cass, Cassie

Age: 22
Date of Birth: December 30th
Time of Birth: 4:50 pm

Gender: female
Sexual Orientation: heterosexual
Status: single

Allegiance: Resistance
Occupation: splits her time between being a waitress, a seamstress, and a con artist for occasional Resistance plans

Image:
Written Description: Cassie has always kept her blonde mane long but manageable. Her eyes, inherited from both parents, are light blue and some have described her face to be “young and innocent” though the latter half of that may seem far from true to those that know her. Cass has used her soft, pretty looks to get what she wants but sometimes her tall frame proved intimidating to those who didn’t want a girl that was taller than him.
Height: 5’9”
Face Claim: Scarlett Leithold

Personality: Cassie loves and hates being the center of attention. Though she can keep to herself and be quiet sometimes, she enjoys knowing that people are looking at her, whether or not it is because of her looks… but at the same time, having eyes on her can be nerve-wracking, especially when she thinks she is being watched for reasons that would make anyone’s skin crawl. She’s generally a sweet and outgoing person, open to making friends with almost anyone. Luckily she has never had very much trouble getting along with people, even if all they wanted was to do things with her that “friends” don’t normally do.

Though Cass had always been a kind, innocent soul during childhood, it was clear by her late teens that she had inherited more from her mother than her blonde, angelic looks. Lydia had long left her daughter and husband when the girl was too young to understand but now Cassie can see that the only thing her mother left her was a case of bipolar depression. Since her first manic and depressive episodes, she has done everything she could to hide the disorder, although medication and weekly treatment wasn’t always enough.

Cassie soon found that her episodes were dangerous, especially when she impulsively jumped into bed with strange men, and woke up to hundreds of dollars worth of clothing and junk that she’d purchased the day before. But as she struggles to keep those kinds of things under wraps, Cassie has found it a little harder to trust people, especially since most of them nowadays have ulterior motives.

Hobbies: Cass is a social butterfly. She loves going out to eat and hang out with people, rarely staying in at home, but when she does, she busies herself with movies, ice cream, and chatting on the phone. As a stereotypical female would, she occasionally indulges in shopping and spending money, but most of the time this is her attempt at hiding her disorder. Interestingly enough, she does have a creative soul. Cass loves revamping clothing and putting together little scrapbooks and other decorations. Perhaps reminiscent of her late grandmother, she also has interest in collecting random little vintage trinkets, keeping them all over the house.

History: Cassie was raised by her father, who works day and night with several others plotting against the Council, after her mother left them when she was only 6 years old. She found herself spending a lot of time around people who hated the government and wanted “justice” and all sorts of things she didn’t understand at the time. Naturally, she grew up with similar beliefs and wants, holding those firm until her first manic and depressive episodes in her late teens. Up until that point, Cassie had been considering following her father’s footsteps and attempting to find ways to overthrow the Council, but discovering her disorder put everything to a sudden stop.

A good student and person in general, people had their expectations of her, especially when her father had the job and status that he held. She had a lot of friends and great interpersonal skills, which apparently would do well in stealthy Resistance plans. Her craft with redesigning and fitting clothing proved helpful when her father and his fellow Resistance supporters needed disguises. She had a face that most people didn’t think twice to question. Her father had actually demonstrated the benefits of that by allowing her to con an unsuspecting Council supporter and lead him into a Resistance trap. From then on, that was Cassie’s only confidence in herself and helping her father: she had to use her body and her looks to become a con artist, a deceiver, a manipulator… a backstabber, just like her mother.

But once Cass got a glimpse of how uncontrollable her mind really was, she knew that there was no way she could do much with her life anymore. She began to question everything around her, growing unsure of herself and the world that surrounded her. To this day, her belief in the Resistance stays but dwindles just as her hope that her mother would come back does.

Talents/Skills: Cass is a developing con artist, using her looks to get what she—or rather, those part of the Resistance—wants; fitting and redesigning clothing; establishing social ties with almost anyone, which proves handy when trying to befriend an unsuspecting person

Likes: almost anything, as Cassie is a very open, go-getter type of person; movies and junk food; vintage, junky little trinkets and collectibles; clothes and redesigning them;

Dislikes: school (she’s always done decently but if it had ever been her choice, she would have stopped attending); people whom are too quiet; being by herself or having no one to talk to; when people try to have too intimate conversations with her that remind her of things she’d rather ignore;

Ambitions: After discovering her psychological disorder, Cassie doesn’t have as great ambitions as she did before. Though she has willed herself otherwise, it has proved to impair her thinking and belief in herself more than she’d wanted. Still, she hopes she can do something to make her father proud, but as for her mother…? Cassie doesn’t know whether or not she wants to find her or never see her again.

Fears: Cassie has always been adored and given attention all her life. She has rarely ever been alone and always had people there for her as a friend or, occasionally, a source of sexual gratification and distraction when her mind was deep in a black ditch. Struggling everyday with her well-kept secret of a psychological disturbance, Cassie fears being left alone or being seen as unattractive, gross, or undesirable in people’s eyes. She worries that if people discovered her disorder, they would see her as an uncontrollable freak.

[[deleted user]]

"Hello. I don't know you. Tell me your name, and I'll tell you whether not I want you around ever."

Nᴀᴍᴇ﹕ Valeste Senka Kiefer
Aʟɪᴀsᴇs ᴏʀ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs﹕

By friends, she is called Val. By family, she is called Esha

Aɢᴇ﹕ 17
Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ July 22
Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ 13:47


"Gay. Proud of it. Now would you kindly fuck the hell off, mate? Ta!"

Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ﹕ Female
Sᴇxᴜᴀʟ Oʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Gyneromantic gynesexual
Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs﹕ Single, reserved for Riley (?)

Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕ Resistance

She sort of sees the city council as an abusive mother, like her own mother was, and as a result, she hates it and is very pro-resistance.

Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Busboy at Light Moon's
Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs﹕ Drinking, taking care of siblings/child, pissing people off, writing lyrics, listening to doom metal and hard rock, drawing things (particularly skulls and roses), spying, playing bass and singing for Storm of Darkness


Wʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ Dᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ﹕

Natural? Fuck no. Val is goth, and that generally means excessive amounts of make-up. If she were satisfied with her natural look, she would have dark hair, wavy and falling down past her breasts. She dyes it platinum blonde and often straightens it. She wears very heavy black eyeliner around her hazel eyes. Her lips are pouty, and she often colors them with dark lipstick -- sometimes even black lipstick. She wears just about all black clothing, often advertising her top bands of the month, sometimes even her own that has yet to take off.

Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ﹕ 5'6"
Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ﹕ Skye Ferreira


"What? What are you thinking. Sorry, mate, but it looks like you're thoughts are pretty fucking boring. You might want to, I don't know, go find yourself a life."

Tʜᴇᴍᴇ Sᴏɴɢ﹕ "Rock and Roll Thugs" by Icon for Hire
Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ﹕

Val likes to piss people off -- enough so that she would definitely consider it a hobby. She doesn't see anything wrong with it, however. She enjoys doing it. She was shifted from waitress to busboy because she could not tone it down and kept tormenting all the customers. What she tries to ignore is that it is very much a defense mechanism after what her mother did, what all those people did to her. She tries not to think about any of that in general, so perhaps it shouldn't be a surprise. Her other coping mechanism is drinking. She knows where all the alcohol is kept and knows where to buy more, and she tells herself and everyone she does it for fun. A lot of times, it is actually to forget.

But Val is generally worse at not letting people in than she would like to admit. She is a romantic at heart, and she becomes attached to people quickly. She tells herself that she doesn't though, that she is attached to none except her beloved siblings. This is an obvious lie to anyone who knows her. She tries to mother her siblings despite being awful at it. She also has a new crush every week. With her crushes, she is often kind of awkward despite trying to keep acting all tough.

Val declares that she is about as gay as gay gets. And it is true that only women do appeal to her -- she would never like to see another dick again in her entire life. She makes jokes about how not straight she is. Her mother was intensely homophobic and would often make degrading comments to Val once she officially "came out" -- Val had never been the closet type and never tried to hide it, but her "coming out" is generally counted as when she yelled it in a screaming match with her mother. Val definitely loves that she's gay because of her mother being so homophobic -- it's another method of rebellion. She's proud of her sexuality.

Val does "goth" well. She is good at acting gloomy and rude and teasing people until they really want to smack her. She is also good at seeming cheerful. She does not reveal her secrets quickly. She tries to forget she even has any that she could tell. She wants to be sort of normal, normal but with her same sense of humor and need to tease people. So that's who she is to everyone else. It often makes her seem kind of shallow despite not being actually shallow.

Fᴀᴍɪʟʏ﹕

>>Odessa Denend; mother; deceased four years; died at age 29
>>Jonathan Kiefer; alive; 37; {OPEN}
>>Dakota Crimson Kiefer; younger brother; alive; 15; ӍдѕҞᾇ; (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]
>>Haven Gene Kiefer; younger brother; alive; 15; ӍдѕҞᾇ; (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]
>>Jocelyn Thylane Kiefer; younger half-sister; alive; 7; (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]
>>Vanessa Mirele Kiefer; daughter and supposed half-sister; alive; 7; (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]

"History? When you think about it, it's sad. But it don't matter the rest of the time, do it?"

Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ﹕

Family was not so horrible at first. Valeste Senka Kiefer was a girl of the Middle City Slums, a child waiting for a revolution, for change, and for a better life. Her parents were people of the Slums, too. Her mother was supposedly beautiful, a woman any man would want. And her father was supposedly lucky. Lucky was not a word that would describe any man or any child at all connected to that woman. Val would spend most of her life wishing that she had never met her mother. Some days, most days, she could scarcely bear to claim her mother as her own.

Her mother was horrible. If she had just been bipolar, perhaps it would have all been fine. But she was addicted to her meds, and her medicine was incredibly expensive. The medicine should have evened out her moods. And for a while, it did. But then with the addiction, her ability to have the medicines and her bipolar both made her reactive to new levels, moody, and prone to temper tantrums. She was the definition of abusive, and she did not give a shit about anyone who wasn't her.

She didn't even give a shit about her children. And that was the house that Val and her siblings were raised in.

When Val was born, her father had a half-decent job and was the sole breadwinner of the household. Her mother wasn't even fully addicted to her meds yet. Her mother was only sixteen when she was born, barely a legal adult. Val was money they could not really afford to spend -- the mother's meds were really expensive -- but Jonathan, her father, loved her anyway. Her mother was happy enough but bitter that they had even less money. Maybe that was where her addiction started.

[[deleted user]]

The mother was certainly addicted two years later when the twins, Haven and Dakota, were born. Val, in all her two-year-old glory, was ecstatic at having little sibling she could hang out with. She was a sweet little kid and terrifically friendly. She caused the dad to freak a couple times by how much she kept talking to strangers. She was lucky she wasn't kidnapped or anything for it, in all honesty. Or maybe she wasn't as lucky because she stayed home.

Her mother just began to spiral downward after that. Jonathan, the father, he tried to save her. He had the kids play with her because playing with them made him happy and he assumed it would do the same to her. He was wrong. It made her even less happy because they were reminders of why they were just growing poorer and poorer and poorer. The last straw came for the mother when they had to sell their place to get an even crummier flat in the poorest part of the Slums, where people had to go scavenging for food. They were luckier to be a little richer than most of the people there and able to buy their food most days. Their next door neighbors, the Linwoods, were allegedly some of the poorest people even in that section of the city.

Their father became less and less able to deal with the mother as time went on. He and the mother were constantly fighting. Val could remember vaguely finding this terribly stressful. The worst fight, the last fight was over her. She'd been trying to convince her mother to play a game with her, just one single, harmless little game. Her mother had slapped her on the cheek, so she'd run, crying, to her father, who did what he could to comfort her. It was that night that he gave Odessa the ultimatum: "Get your shit together and take the recommended dose of your meds, or I'm walking out and giving you no more of my money."

Odessa couldn't stop, and the next day, Jonathan walked out of their lives. Val was distraught. It had always been her dad she was closest to. He was the one who introduced her to music and the one who she ran to when she cried. He was the one that cooked them all breakfast. He was the one that gave them a place to live. And now, he was gone. Val couldn't cry, not in front of her brothers. She was the one who held them when they were upset about it. When she was alone, she was a wreck and sobbed all the time.

It was only a month before the shit hit the fan properly and buried them all. Odessa no longer had the money for the drugs, and her supply ran out. She started through the withdrawal symptoms. Val was more than willing to try to ease her through them. She'd heard enough of her parents' arguments that she was adamantly on her father's side. She wanted to help get her mother out of her drugs so that her dad would return, too. She blamed her mother for her father's leaving.

Unfortunately, Odessa was not inclined to standby through her withdrawal. Instead, she came up with a plan that would destroy her children's lives.

Val didn't know what was happening as she was forced into her bedroom. She'd always had free range of her flat, so what the fuck could even be happening? And then there was the man in the room, huge and big. She'd just opened her mouth to scream, duct tape was pasted over it. Val could remember blind terror and struggling to fight back, but it was useless. There was nothing she could do as the man raped her.

The next few days were spent trying to recover from the pain and blood. She tried not to let her brothers know what had happened. There was nothing she could do when not long after, they started facing the same treatment, too. Indeed, it was arguable that up until Val was ten, she actually had it easier than her brothers. Their mother was homophobic, and most of the people she was selling her children to were male -- even those for Haven and Dakota. She often would call them slurs for it even if they did not actually like guys (at this point, at least).

Val tried to protect them, and often she would offer herself instead of her brothers if one of the people seemed particularly dangerous. She could not take all the jobs, and her brothers still had to take numerous clients too. For Val, one of the worst experiences was when this one man forced her and the prostitute boy next door, Lycus, to have sex together for almost an hour and whipped them in places if they slowed at all. She and Lycus were both sobbing. Whereas other people might swap stories or commiserate after that, Val and Lycus made sure to avoid one another. She still has scars in places from the experience.

Val's grades in school plummeted. She had been a smart girl before, and she still was. But she was fidgety in class and could not focus for the life of her. And more to the point, she just could not be bothered to give a shit about school when her home life was what it was. She skipped almost half of the time instead of sticking around for her classes.

And then ten happened. There was one particularly violent client Odessa wanted to give Val to, and he would only take women. Val refused. She'd been with this man once before, and it had been complete shit. So she refused and told her mother she wished her mother would just die because someone like her certainly didn't deserve to be alive. And then she said she was going to find her father and she was going to get them all the hell out of there.

She managed one out of two tasks. She found their father. He was glad to see her, and she was so glad to see him, too. They hugged and were infinitely grateful to have found each other. As it turned out, he had regretted walking out from the start, but by the time he tried to come back, the drug dealers had stopped him from doing it. Val was pissed at her mother. She should have taken his reasons as foreshadowing, however.

Less than a week later, after what was basically the best week in her entire life, she was dragged from her father's house by a couple of the drug dealers. Jonathan was beaten and knocked out because of his efforts to protect her. His efforts were in vain, she was beaten and raped by the two drug dealers (one male and the other intersex). She was hollower when she returned, and that was when she learned where the metaphorical key to the liquor cabinet was.

She was completely drunk when the man she had tried to escape fucked her. And she didn't notice he hadn't used a condom. She didn't realize until about a month later when the morning sickness started and she spent every morning vomiting. She stopped going to school entirely, then, instead preferring to try to sneak off to the library to teach things to herself.

It was with the morning sickness that she realized her mother was pregnant, too. The mother had had to have sex with the same man unprotected, too, and because he hadn't been satisfied with Odessa, she'd still been raped. Val was horrified, and she was a bit disgusted to learn her kid was going to be the half sibling and niece/nephew of her mother's kid.

About 3/4 of year later, the two kids were born: Vanessa (hers) and Jocelyn (her mother's). It was obvious from the first that her daughter was deaf, and Val knew it was all her fault. Jocelyn, however, was worse off because of her mother being on the drugs -- she ended up being addicted to them when she came out and had to be hospitalized for an additional two months. Val couldn't have sex because she was recovering from giving birth, but she was not safe from sex -- she could still suck people off and do anal (much to her dismay). And they all had to do more because of the hospital fees.

When Jocelyn finally came home from the hospital a month after Jocelyn was born, Odessa insisted that Vanessa and Jocelyn be raised as twins. Val was very against this, wanting her daughter to be raised as her daughter despite only being a decade older than the little girl. Vanessa (and Jocelyn) were very quickly her world (not that she didn't adore her younger brothers either). She learned sign language and started teaching it to Vanessa as much as one could do a little baby, and she always made sure to play with both. Val made sure to feed them both, too, to keep the milk from addicting either of them.

Three years happened like that. And then came the terrifying news: one of her mother's clients wanted to use Vanessa. Val could not handle the idea of her daughter being used like that. She had already been realizing that she preferred women to men, so she tried to divert her mother, screaming that she was gay, as gay as could be. Val and Odessa got in a huge fight, both women screaming, kicking, and shouting. It ended with Val more-or-less forcing her mother to take more of her pills, saying she needed to be stabilized, that she needed to stop and rethink her life.

And Odessa stopped. Completely. Val had forced her into an overdose that the hospital could not save her from. Val felt guilty about having killed their mother, but she was also glad to have saved her daughter and to no longer be subjected to any of the drug dealers. That was what she tried to make herself focus on. She led her siblings and child out of their childhood home and to her father's flat, which was where she had last seen it.

Their father was ecstatic to see them, and he was glad that Odessa had overdosed because of what she was doing to her kids. Val told her father that Vanessa was her child. He told her to let them keep thinking they were twins because they already considered themselves twins and it would be easier if they didn't know how fucked up their family was. Reluctantly, Val agreed, and Vanessa and Jocelyn remained twins.

Things got better. Their father accepted who they were. He never judged them for what they had gone through. He even told them he was proud of them for having made it out alive on the other side. He did, however, try to get them into therapy. Their issues were already deeply ingrained. Val drank a lot and she liked to torment the others around her for fun -- not in a temper way, but a freak them out way.

Val recovered better than her younger brothers did, maybe because she was older and maybe because she felt responsible for them. That is not to say it has no effect on her. She still drank a lot, she cried herself to sleep, and everything about tormenting people was a way for her to cope. She sort of started to see herself as a maternal figure for her siblings. She made sure the youngest two, especially, were all right. She was best at communicating with Vanessa besides Jocelyn. She was sure they saw her as a maternal figure. She was the one who realized that Vanessa had ADHD and got her medicine for it. She who helped Jocelyn with things, as well.

When Val was fifteen, she, Haven, and Dakota started a band which they called Storm in the Darkness, a hard rock and death metal band. She became the smooth vocalist, lyricist, and bass player. She also started working at the Light Moon's around the same time. At first, she was a waitress, but she tormented all the customers too much to be allowed to remain a waitress. She was demoted to busboy, a position she has held ever since. She usually has at least one earphone in, listening to her own music or one of her favorite bands, while working.

"Stop. There's more in heaven and earth than is dreamt of in your philosophy. Seriously. Get your head out of your arse and really look at the whole damn world and tell me it isn't completely fucked."

[Morgan]

Ɗσ ωє נυѕт Ɩєт тнєм ωιη?

Hιɗє ιη тнє ɗαяк тιƖƖ тнєу'νє кιƖƖєɗ єνєяу Ɩαѕт σηє σf υѕ ωнσ ɗαяєɗ тσ fιgнт?

kai darren bomonti
alias Dare

✧ 23 ✧ june 19th ✧
✦ male ✦ pansexual ✦ single ✦
✧ resistance ✧ writer- waiter ✧

ғαce clαιм: Grant Gustin

(view spoiler)[

(hide spoiler)]

ᴅᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ
Kai is only just beginning to grow out of his baby face. His jaw is beginning to define itself, and puberty is finally beginning to do its thing. If someone was to see him from school now, they certainly wouldn't be able to connect him to the person he used to be. Standing at a height of 5'6" nothing has changed much in that aspect of his life as he still spends much time having to look up at people. The only defining feature about himself that he actually likes is his eyes- a deep ivy green color. As for his hair, well that's always a struggle for him. Some days it will work with him and look nice, others it will be patted down and look lifeless.

∝ Kai isn't one to stick out from a crowd of people. In fact he would much rather be the silent bystander to most of life's events. All through school he was the nerdy kid who would show up to classes early, and he would spend most days studying avidly. Needless to say he wasn't the best at making friends and decided to just keep to himself. On the odd occasion he did have someone approach him he'd always turn red and stumble over his words. Really, though, Kai has never grown out of this. While he's lost the flushed cheeks and inability to speak he is still unable to make much of a conversation. It's a good one if there's only awkward silence. Filling in said silence has never been one of his strong points. The few people he can manage to keep a conversation with are his parents and his older brother. Even then he has difficulty in expressing himself. Super opinionated he does have trouble holding his tongue sometimes. It is in times like these that he writes. Writing has always been a passion of his, and that was extremely highlighted when he began to see the world around him for what it was, especially the government. They were harming innocents, people that had families and lives, people that made no move to resist. Through his emotions he was able to bring pen to paper and write down what he was feeling. The movement of doing so was fluid. From there he started to create a voice for himself, and a completely unexpected one. Still quiet silent he allows for himself to go unnoticed, not wanting to bring harm onto his family, or bring attention to himself.

∝ In a world of chaos Kai had quite the normal upbringing. That is to say he wasn't exactly brought up in a two story house with a white picket fence, but rather a two room apartment bordering the slums of the city. Nevertheless it was always cozy. His stay at home mother would often fight away the bad dreams, and she certainly always took care of him when he was sick. His brother didn't really have any interest in him when he was a stumbling toddler, but they grew to love each other. As for his father, he wasn't around much, and Kai didn't really understand why until it was later into his teenage years. Going through the motions he only realized in his first year of school that he lacked the ability to talk to people. It was a difficult job for him just to open his mouth and say a simple hi. Through the years he didn't make too many connections with people, always staying on the edge of existence. People knew his name they just didn't know who he was. Instead he was labelled as a loner and it was left at that. He was fine with that. He had his mom, and his brother, and his less than relevant dad.
At the age of ten things became tense in the little two room apartment and he found himself spending more than enough time in school, and even more time at the library- his safe haven. Through this time he developed a love for literature. They weren't just words, they were sentences, lines, and paragraphs that were pieced together to create something. Spending less and less time at home he was stuck inside his own mind most of the time, and for him that was perfectly fine. There he actually made a friend, of course that is only if you consider the library's cat to be a friend... Well Kai did. From there he actually made a human friend, who remains to be his friend to this day despite the ups and down of their relationship. Entering his late teenage years he also began to realize the feelings for his brother might've been just a bit more than what one should feel for a brother. So he began to spend even less time at home in hopes to avoid said feelings. This never seemed to work out well as his brother would always show up at the library in hopes to find him. Still he managed to easily ignore him, which was a rather difficult job to do on his own. All so suddenly, though, the death of his father reached the house and that is when he was pulled back to that place. There was a depressing sense hanging in the halls, and he would often do his best to make conversation. The day he discovered the truth was the same as any other when his mom was out with his brother. Cleaning the house in attempts to keep his thoughts at bay he came across his father's journal. It had never been a secret his father was one to collect his thoughts by writing them down, it was only what was inside that surprised him.
It was lists of people's names... and how they'd died. At first he was confused, reading through all the occurrences.
Mary P. : Beheaded. Two kids. Body left in the east alley of Grover's Lane. Gone the next morning.
The lists went on similarly. Were these people his father had killed himself. No. That seemed like too much to grasp. Instead he believed it was a catalog of people that had died in the slums. Of course the descriptions of how they died just didn't seem like a coincidence. His dad was a cop though! They were here to protect the city, were they not? Living in denial he stowed the journal away in the corner of his shared room and ignored it. Soon later he began to open his eyes to more of the world. The resistance, the council that was dictating all their lives. Kai knew where he stood, but he wouldn't be much help in a fight. Instead he just shoved it all in a corner as he did with the journal. Working odd jobs at night he began to save money, and as soon as he reached a certain age he moved out into his own apartment. The place was quite shabby, but it's where everything started. His Air Pulse article. At first it had been a simple article about what he was finding out about. People who'd been harmed and for what? Where were the answers. Soon he was beginning to get feedback about what he was doing under his Alias of Dare. From there he continued. The first published one had been nothing but a brief mistake, but now he's unable to stop. He keeps his identity a secret from everyone in his life in order to protect the people around him. Besides he's not doing much in the first place.

ωσω, ωнαт тнє нєℓℓ αм ǀ ∂σιηg?

[gabbu]

"Siersha and I - dating? No. Siersha doesn't like anyone that way. As for me... I could probably be wearing a neon sign saying 'hey, I'm gay' and people would still ask."



| Nᴀᴍᴇ | Christian Gavriil Voclain
| Aʟɪᴀsᴇs ᴏʀ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs | Gavriil, Gav
| Aɢᴇ | 23
| Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ | November 9
| Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ | 16:36
| Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ | Male
| Sᴇxᴜᴀʟ Oʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | Homosexual
| Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs | Single (destined for Solaris); queerplatonic relationship with Siersha Ann Ivere



"I don't think anyone understands. You could literally punch me in the face and I'd just be happy it was me who got hurt and not someone else. Like I've said - I care too much."


| Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ | Neutral (prefers peace, something neither side seems to offer)
| Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ | Bartender at the Soul and the Dragon
| Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs | magic tricks, playing the guitar/singing, talking with friends


| Wʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ Dᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ | Though not particularly tall and with hair a fairly common shade of brown, Gavriil has often been complimented for the blueness of his eyes and his quickness to smile or laugh.
| Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ | 5'11
| Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ | Sebastian Stan


"What you do is none of my business - unless you hurt someone else. Then I will make it my business."

| Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ |

Gavriil has always been moderately intelligent, and his sense of humor and readiness to laugh is something people have noticed about him since he was a child. However, Gavriil never had the highest amount of self-confidence. For as long as he can remember, he's thought of himself as inferior and is almost physically incapable of taking a compliment. In group projects, he credited the work to everyone else when they succeeded and attributed their failures to himself, even if the opposite were true. As such, it was extremely easy for people to take advantage of Gavriil. And that's exactly what they did.

Gavriil did almost everything he was asked to do without resistance, but he drew the line when it came to harming someone else. On many occasions, he'd place ridiculous amounts of blame on himself to ensure no one else had to get hurt. It grew obvious that it wasn't Gavriil doing these things, but no one was quite willing to give up their willing punching bag. Gavriil figured out that they knew, but that wasn't enough to make him quit beating himself up, especially since there was always a small part of him that really did think it was his fault. He realizes it's wrong for him to allow himself to be stepped all over by everyone else, but it hasn't stopped him. To this day, Gavriil still struggles with allowing others to take the blame and has the scars to prove it. Even though Gavriil is quick to allow others to take advantage of him, the moment someone who isn't him - especially one of his friends - is hurt, Gavriil gets extremely protective and (even though he isn't much for violence) will defend them regardless of how well he knows them.

One thing Gavriil loves is . From a young age, he has enjoyed and excelled at sleight of hand and other forms of "magic". As he doesn't have many close friends, few people know this, and most are surprised when they find out about his manual dexterity or lose to him in a game of cards. Currently, Gavriil suffers from a mild case of depression and anxiety and most of the laughing he does these days is so he doesn't look like he's having a mental break down.






"Laughing is my defense mechanism. Sure, sometimes I do it for real, but most of the time it's because I know I'll end up in tears if I don't."



| Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ |

Shortly after Gavriil's father Zorion left his wife (Rosaline) and child (Nyco Drake) he met the person who would become the mother of Gavriil. Gavriil wasn't born immediately (Zorion still felt too guilty about having to abandon his former family to start a new one) but when he was, Zorion felt terrible. As he didn't feel any strong connection with Gavriil's mother romantically - it was only supposed to be a one-night stand, and the fact Cassandra was pregnant was news to both of them - Zorion didn't stick around long, but he made sure to visit on the weekends and provided Cassandra with help where she needed it.

Cassandra was well connected socially, so Gavriil (who she referred to by his first name, Christian and is the reason he goes his middle name) was forced to spend lots of time around the children of her friends, especially as he got older. Gavriil knew that most of the people out of those groups that he considered "friends" only liked him because he listened to whatever they told him to do, but he hung around them anyways. He was terrified of ending up alone and was willing to do anything to prevent this from happening. Even if it meant being friends with people who used him.

One of the children Gavriil met through his mother, a younger girl by the name of Siersha, was different. Since their parents were particularly close, he'd been spending time with her since before she could talk. When they got older, they bonded over several things even though they were almost polar opposites personality-wise. One of the things Gavriil really liked about being friends with Siersha was that she allowed him to be himself. He didn't mind the harassment of his peers, but it was even better having someone he could really talk to. As they got older, people began to question the nature of Siersha and Gavriil's relationship, but they were adamant about being "just friends". No one really believed them, but they learned to ignore the weird commentary about their friendship.

When Gavriil was eleven, someone who he recognized as a council member (and assumed was one of Zorion's friends, considering the time they spent around each other) asked him a couple of questions about Zorion (when he usually ate, what he usually ate, what time he got home from work, etc), saying they were for a surprise party and that Zorion couldn't know they'd asked. Gavriil didn't know how dangerous giving this sort of information out could be, even if was for a "party", so he answered them all as honestly as he could. A few days later, Zorion was found dead due to what was said to be natural causes. By this point, Gavriil had put two and two together and realized that not only was his father dead, but it was all his fault. He was too scared to tell anyone besides Siersha, and while she didn't totally understand the ginormous amount of guilt Gavriil felt, she did her best to comfort him. The guilt from this experience made Gavriil feel as if he had more to compensate for and made him even more of a pushover than before.

Siersha and Gavriil had been there for each other for everything since Gavriil was three. When Gavriil was fourteen, he came out to Siersha as gay. Siersha was extremely accepting, and not long after, Siersha told him she was asexual (sometime after this, they began their queerplatonic relationship, which was when people really began to suspect they were dating).

Encouraged by Siersha's positive reaction, Gavriil also came out to his mother. Cassandra had almost the exact opposite reaction. She told Gavriil he was confused and that this was why he needed a stronger father figure in his life and so many other things that Gavriil had forgotten most of them. Now not only was he easily manipulated and guilty about his father's death, he had the added shame about his sexuality. This didn't stop him from dating and from falling in love. There were lots of boys, and Gavriil remembered each and every one of their names. Most of them didn't care much for Gavriil and only went out with him because they knew how easy he was. These relationships generally only lasted a few days and always ended messily, but Gavriil always claimed that this time would be better and he wouldn't get his feelings hurt. Siersha tried steering him away from his self-destructive tendencies, but Gavriil was still reeling from his mother's constant derogatory comments about his sexuality. He fell into a sort of depression, even cutting himself occasionally (something he's surprisingly managed to keep secret even from Siersha).

It got even worse once Gavriil met Lance. The relationship between them lasted for much longer than was normal for Gavriil, and (even though Siersha told Gavriil his new boyfriend was nothing but bad news) he continued believing that maybe this time really would be different. He stopped cutting himself and his mood improved greatly. He was sure Lance was the solution to the problems he'd been having and he wore his heart on his sleeve. On Gavriil's sixteenth birthday -- the day he'd been waiting for for almost two years so he could be a legal adult and finally move away from his homophobic mother -- he discovered that Lance had been cheating on him with another girl. Not only that, but he was completely and totally straight, and had been toying with Gavriil the whole time. The cutting and the depression resumed. Gavriil stopped dating entirely after that, accepting that he'd probably never find someone who was "different" or "better" and even years after when he and Siersha moved in together and he began bartending (something he'd wanted to do ever since he'd realized how unreliable a career being a magician was, especially with his fear of crowds) he still felt empty, like Lance took a piece of Gavriil with him when he left. He tries filling the hole with long hours at the Soul and Dragon and time spent with Siersha and some of their other friends, but nothing fills the hole better than the feeling of a razor against his skin.


Family:
>> Cassandra Ryker ; mother ; 47; teacher for MCS children ; OPEN
>> Gavin Ace Voclain ; father ; dead
>> Nyco Drake Voclain ; half-sister; 29 ; council member ; Elf



"Yeah, sometimes people treat me like I'm a doormat, but that's better than nothing, isn't it?"


│ Lɪᴋᴇs │
☻ Helping others
☻ Hearing people talk
☻ Music
☻ Being surrounded by people

│ Dɪsʟɪᴋᴇs │
☹ Bullies
☹ Dishonesty
☹ Violence
☹ People who aren't very tolerant

│ Sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜs │
✮ Making friends
✮ Problem-solving
✮ Standing up for pretty much everyone but himself
✮ Creative

│ Wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇssᴇs │
☆ Too concerned with the opinions of others
☆ Taking care of himself
☆ Flirting
☆ Lets people more or less walk all over him

│ Fᴇᴀʀs │
✗ Being in certain places/situations (mainly: cars, situations with large crowds, tight places, wide open spaces, the dark, etc) that will cause panic [agoraphobia]
✗ Losing his friends (by them dying or just leaving him)
✗ Not being accepted



"After all the crap I've managed to screw up...sometimes I wonder if everyone would've been better off if I'd just died."

[ӍдѕҞa]

"Everyone can fake a smile and say they’re okay, but hide and cover it all you want, anyone who has the ability to, will be able to read the agony in your eyes. I’ve seen that look in my own eyes too many times to mistaken it."

Ｂａｓｉｃｓ
│ Nᴀᴍᴇ │ Lionel Thatcher HolBrook
│ Nᴀᴍᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ │
(view spoiler)[ Lionel- Lion[English]
Thatcher- Roof Maker[English]
Holbrook- Dweller By The Brook In A Hollow[English]
(hide spoiler)]
│Aʟɪᴀsᴇs │ N/A
│ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ │ Thatch, Lion, Brook.


~ We can live forever still your misery missed me. Hold this song together with a bottle of whiskey.~

│ Aɢᴇ │ 46
│ Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ │ October 13th
│ Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ │ 4:36pm
│ Pʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ │ Hospital
│ Zᴏᴅɪᴀᴄ │ Libra
(view spoiler)[Element: Air
Ruling planets: Venus
Symbol: The Scales
Stone: Opals
Life Pursuit: To be consistent
Vibration: Unsteady
Secret Desire: To live an easy, uncomplicated life.
(hide spoiler)]



~ Look into the mirror at the lines that time drew. Seen em painted white and the eyes that shined through.~

│ Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ Rᴏʟᴇ │ Masculine
│ Bɪʀᴛʜ Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ │ Female
│ Sᴇxᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ │ Demisexual
│ Pʀᴇsᴇɴᴛ Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs │ Single
│ Pᴀsᴛ Rᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘs │ One (Wife)


~ My heart beats heavy in an open chest. And I wanna say goodbye, but there's nobody left ~

│ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ Sᴏɴɢ: │ Believe, Hollywood Undead
│ ᴍᴏDᴇ ᴏғ Tʀᴀɴsᴘᴏʀᴛɪᴏɴ: │
N/A


│ Fᴀᴍɪʟʏ │
*At Death*
│ Pᴀʀᴇɴᴛs │
Name Sandra Holbrook
Relation » Mother |◦ 57 » ◦| Status » Deceased

Name Arnold Holbrook
Relation » Father |◦ 59 » ◦| Status » Deceased

│ Sɪʙʟɪɴɢs │
N/A

│Wɪғᴇ │
Name Melanie Holbrook
Relation » Wife |◦ 36 » ◦| Status » Deceased
|Image|: (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]

│ │
Name Harrington (Harry) Holbrook
Relation » Son |◦ 1 1/2 » ◦| Status » Deceased
|Image|: (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]



"What did you just say to me? Well, it sure wasn’t amusing so piss off."


Ａｐｐｅａｒａｎｃｅ
│ Iᴍᴀɢᴇ │

(view spoiler)[

(hide spoiler)]
│ Hᴀɪʀ │ Dark brown (been various lengths always spiked though)
│ Eʏᴇs │ Hazely brown
│ Cᴏᴍᴘʟᴇxɪᴏɴ │ Faintly tanned skin, wrinkled.
│ Bᴜɪʟᴅ │ 6'2", large, firm, muscular built.
│ Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ │ Hugh Jackman
│ Dɪsɢᴜɪsɪɴɢ ᴍᴀʀᴋɪɴɢs│
[To tell himself he'll always be able to find his way(always wears finger-less gloves over his right hand covering it)]





~I can't believe. That when I breathe. There's something good inside of me. Just one good thing inside of me. So close to me. That memory. Of that one good thing inside of me. Just one good thing inside of me.~




Ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌ
│ Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕ │ Neutral (He doesn't care)
│ Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕│ Factor Worker/ Construction Worker (both part time)
│ Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs﹕│ Cooking/ Sketching






│ Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ │
Lionel is deeply emotionally and mentally scarred due to his childhood and the murder of his family. He is a man that has many flaws, a man who has lost his way and trying to find the meaning to life once more. He feels that he is going through the motions, not feeling anything and losing every bit of his soul piece by piece. The mental damage the he suffers does overwhelm him a large amount of the time, especially when he’s alone given the time to think.
Lionel is a man who values the concept of time and not wasting it, so being blunt and straight forward, sometimes even harshly is something he does often. He comes across as forceful, rude and harsh sometimes. Due to his build and usual stone cold facial expression, he is viewed as intimidating and threatening. Not many dares cross him, which is good because despite being able to handle liquor, the rage and frustration, his sorrow is unhinged and ready to lash out at anyone who dares cross him. He is a serious man, usually appearing passive, uncaring and cruel. In addition to this, he is a man with few words, blunt but few words for the most part, especially with people he doesn’t trust and he doesn’t trust easily in the slightest.
In actuality though, Lionel is a big sweetheart, specifically when he’s not drunk, a great big fluffy teddy bear. He’s kind, considerate, usually very calm and compassionate. He adores kids but does hold a deep sadness, a void in his soul knowing that he is missing something and it’s usually easily seen in the man’s sad eyes. He is protective, caring and loyal, someone you’d wish to befriend once you get to know him and definitely not someone you wish to cross especially since he is skilled when it comes to murder despite hating the concept of it.
Once you get this man to trust you and care for you, you know you will have a close and dear friend despite all his faults and flaws.
Mind you, Lionel does experience break downs, sometimes resulting in panic attacks, delusions, violence or succumbing to his drinking problem. These do not happen too often, as long as he is kept busy and his focus isn’t diverted onto his memories of the past.

│ Lɪᴋᴇs │
☻ Cooking
☻ Sketching
☻ Drinking
☻ Wife/Son

│ Dɪsʟɪᴋᴇs │
☹ Memories
☹ Council
☹ His Parents
☹ Drinking

│ Sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜs │
✮ Physical Strength
✮ Determination
✮ Stability (to an extent)
✮ Ability to Kill

│ Wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇssᴇs │
☆ Memories
☆ Mental State (for the most part)
☆ Drinking/ Panic Attacks
☆ Fears

│ Fᴇᴀʀs │
✗ Losing those he cares for
✗ Never forgiving himself
✗ Killing again
✗ Letting someone down



"I’ve killed before, something I plan never to do again. I am not proud of what I’ve become, I know I lost myself and I won’t ever find myself again, but it doesn’t mean I can’t save others who face similar or worse problems than my own."


│ Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ │
╠╩ Childhood ╦╣
Sandra and Arnold Holbrook met during a Council fanatic group meeting, having met up with other people who were obsessive about the Council and extremist in their cause and against their enemy. They bumped into each other, attraction at first sight not to mention they both were fanatics about the Council. After meeting up with each other, hanging out and conversing to each other about themselves and their common interests it wasn’t a surprise they began dating. After dating for a year they decided to push their relationship to the next step: hunting and killing resistance follows together. It was key to trust each other in those situations and if they couldn’t do it they weren’t meant to be. Fortunately they were all successful and they fell further in love with each other. So not soon later they officially got married and continued working as a side job and killing full time. Arnold was a private investigator which helped with hunting down people and gaining more classified information about people. Sandra on the other hand was just a waitress. Besides their official paying job, they spent a lot of time together, enjoying helping the Council by picking off the pests called the Resistance. They hadn’t really ever thought about having kids together, too busy and feeling fulfilled with their lives up until Sandra discovered that she was indeed pregnant. After the initial surprise that they had created a child, they became ecstatic because they created someone together, another thing to show their love but not only that but because they now had someone else to teach their values upon and have their own child assist them in the Council cause. They decided to take a break in hunting and killing until the child was old enough to walk and talk. They were excellent parents, doting and kind, loving. They adored their little boy, cooing to him, telling him stories even when he was in the womb. They were focused on Lionel and their job for the time being, putting a hold on their Council reasoned antics. When Lionel was a walking, talking, contemplating three year old, after already filling his head about how wonderful the Council was since he was a child, but it was all subtle. Now though, upon turning three, Lionel watched his parents kill someone for the first time. They brought him along, telling him it was a special surprise that he’d enjoy and not soon later he was sitting on the floor near the door, staring at the bleeding dead man on the ground near him. The young child had enough instincts to know that this was wrong despite everything his parents was telling him, all he felt was dread. Lionel was right to dread, for the next few years his parents brought him along to their murders, even had him watch their torture sessions to make sure he understood how to do it. By the time he was six, his parents forced him to partake in a few of their ‘missions’, making Lionel a killer at six years old.
He was a silent kid, just doing what his parents told him, having been broken the moment he was three years old and his gaze bore in the gaze of the dead man that still haunts his dreams. He feared his parents, gone were the parents who read him stories, tended to him and cared for him, in their place were to monsters that craved people’s death. So he went through the motions, not truly there or frankly –in his mind—alive.

[ӍдѕҞa]

Turning eight, despite the fact his parents wanted him with them as they hunted and killed Resistance followers, they knew that Lionel had to go to school since it was Council law for him to do so until he became an adult. So off to school Lionel went, which was a breath of fresh air for him, despite not making any friends, he still enjoyed it because he got to learn things besides murder, spent time away from his parents and had freedom to do and learn what he wished. School was what kept Lionel’s sanity, especially when he knew he had to return to his parents. It wasn’t as if they were ever cruel to him, but the things they did to other people, he feared them, and he knew they were wrong but he couldn’t do anything about it.
He went through school friendless due to his cold, unattached exterior despite the fact even then he was a sweet kid. He did very well, mostly because he put all his time into it so he could avoid his parents (though it didn’t stop them from dragging him along and having him kill people along with them ever so often). He didn’t exceed expectations but he had to do well in school or else his parents would be ashamed of him and he feared what they would do to him if that were to occur. So he worked hard, learned no social skills and focused on his studies. Lionel stressed mainly because he didn’t want to go with his parents during their ‘missions’, dreading it so working hard and getting himself more homework only added to the stress. By the time he was sixteen, Lionel had killed 17 people, most he’d assisted with, and had watched ten peopled murdered by his parents. He graduated school, 98 average since one of his teachers had disliked the way Lionel sometimes corrected him.


╠╩ Adulthood ╦╣

Unfortunately, he had nothing separating him from his parents anymore, and with their influence, they pushed him into becoming like them. Arnold began teaching him the ropes of private investigation while they both brought him along to their ‘missions’ again and once Lionel was able to solve his own P.I case, they allowed him to begin going on his own ‘missions’ for the Council to dispose of Resistance followers. Lionel was 20 by the time he was told about the first Resistance follower that he had to dispatch and he couldn’t stomach it. So he went, using what he learned as a P.I to get the guy to move and go into hiding so his parents would think he was dead. Lionel continued to do this for the next six years until he finally managed to tell his parents he was going to go and open up his own business ‘and dispatch Resistance Followers in a different area’. His mom made a big deal about it but they allowed him to and so he left. He was serious about the P.I aspect of it, but instead of dispatching, he assisted anyone that needed his help, specifically children and the homeless. People generally in sticky situations. He enjoyed this so much better, liking helping people which began to open him up a bit but not too much. He participated in soup kitchens, construction of homes, charity events etc. All the while keeping on the down low so his parents don’t know and briefly giving them fake updates to distract them.
Turning 26, he went into his regular coffee shop to chill in his usually seat to have tea as he planned for the next week and so. That’s when a new waitress walked up to his table to ask him what he wanted. He looked up from what he was doing and it was basically love at first sight for him. After a few weeks of him visiting there and them being too shy to talk to each other besides the obvious greeting and exchange. Lionel eventually took the first step and soon they were heading off to hang out and it became a regular thing. They became close after a month, not dating but not exactly friends. Soon they knew each other well, liked each other and soon Lionel asked her out and the two began dating. Their relationship stayed strong, especially since he learned that she was a Resistance follower(though it wasn’t an extremist thing) instead of a Council fanatic like his parents –a topic he avoided as well as what he had to endure as a child—but this meant that he had to keep her hidden from his parents. About a year after officially dating for almost a year, they got married in secret but otherwise continued to live their life, having moved in together at their year mark of dating. Finally, Lionel didn’t feel broken and empty, he felt loved and felt love. He had something to life for and had someone to protect as well as love.
From age 28 he and Melanie lived together happily, working and soon buying a better flat for them, thinking of expanding their family. Melanie also enjoyed helping him with his on the side charity work, they were a perfect couple. The two rarely fought, handled everything calmly, especially since the both of them were rather blunt but kind. Their life was perfect, his life finally meaning something other than murder, not controlled by his parents.
When Lionel was about to turn 37, after years of trying, Melanie finally became pregnant and the couple were over joyed, ecstatic about this having wanted a child for a while. Lionel had a small fear that he’d become like his parent which caused many panic attacks and nightmares. Eventually it became threatening to his and Melanie’s health. So, Lionel finally told her about his past, about his parents and instead of running like he thought she would, she hugged him and sobbed for what he had to life through. She was angry afterwards of course since he’d kept it from her but talking to her about it eased his conscious, especially since she thoroughly assured him he was nothing like them and he’d be a great father to their child.
By the time Lionel was 39, their child, Harrington better known as Harry, was born and was about a year and a half years old, an adorable little boy that the two loved unconditionally. Lionel was an amazing father, kind, caring and protective. He was practically born to be a father. Unfortunately, their happiness didn’t last.
Lionel’s parents found out about what was actually going on with Lionel’s life, specifically about his Resistance loving wife. During one night, Melanie had a long day at work and Lionel had a long day working on a case at home while looking after Harry. They were all cuddling up on the couch watching some TV, Lionel listening about the love of his life’s day when the door was broken in and his parents came storming in. Lionel got up, shocked and was even more surprised when his mother aimed a gun at his head. Before he could react his father had pulled him away and restraining him as Lionel struggled and watched in horror as his mother went to his wife who held their child protectively, about to make a break for it but looked at Lionel just as his mother snapped her neck causing her to go limp on the couch, Harry to fall back onto the couch and start bawling.
Lionel went limp for a moment, shocked that she was just gone, out of his life and dead, staring at him like the man who’d died at his feet when he was three. Lionel couldn’t completely recall what overcame him, but he snapped, specifically he went mental upon hearing his parents say how they should kill his child too since it was tainted with the blood of a Resistance lover. Not wanting to risk his child Lionel used all their teachings to kill his father who still held him but his mother used the fact he was occupied killing his father to get over to the baby and began suffocating the crying child. Lionel immediately lunged at her but she moved just in time and soon has him pinned and suffocating his own child, murmuring rambles about forgiving him if he killed his son. Lionel went bat shit, getting out of the hold and shoved her away while pulling the pillow off Harry’s face. He was too late though, Harry’s small body was still, no pulse. In Lionel’s blinding rage, he brutally slaughtered, no tortured and then slaughtered his mother, reverting to a numb state, a state more broken than it had been as a child.
He couldn’t stand staying there after everyone was dead, taking Melanie’s wedding ring and Harry’s first baby boot, he left the flat, numb and dead inside. It wasn’t a surprise that his job crumbled underneath him, he lacked the ability to care and he soon was just homeless, penniless and drinking his agony and memories away.
He stayed this useless bum, always drunk, getting into brutal fights till he was 43. After the death of the only people in his life he loved, he became an alcoholic, wishing death but never receiving it.

When he turned 44, he was lying dead to the world in an alley when someone approached him, asking if he was dead, if he was okay. Lionel responded with a grunt and a bitter “does it look like I’m okay?” The guy brushed it off by asking him if he needed a job, since he needed some factory workers and he looked like he could do something than rot away. Lionel instantly declined, telling the guy to piss off before he passed out.
A few days later Lionel got so drunk that he’d become delusional in his state, locked in his memories instead of drowning them away. He murdered someone, thinking it had been his mother but he ended up lying beside and young innocent girl’s body, covered in her blood. Lionel was sober for once, horrified and he knew he needed help, he couldn’t kill any more people, it would kill him and everything he stood for after escaping his parents. With this life changing occurrence, he goes off to the factory he knew had offered him that job. He soon got the job there, which was pretty easy and began working. He was still homeless since he basically had no money but he worked long and hard to both forget, to stop himself from drinking once again and to get enough money for a place. When he finally did after a year, being 45, he began living in a really shitty place, frankly a drug place but he didn’t care, he wasn’t home often and soon got a part time job as a construction worker additional to his factory job. Those days he had off though, he needed a way to distract himself so cooking and soon he got involved in sketching to keep his mind occupied and not think about his past or delve in his drinking habit.

╠╩ Current Life ╦╣
Working hard at both his jobs, not wanting breaks to think and remember but he often did and broke down. He was getting better, hadn’t touched a bottle of alcohol in about six months though being alone, he often feels the urge to satisfy his craving. At 46, he works more than he had when he’d legally became an adult. Unfortunately, recently, the place he’d been renting had burned down (some drama between gangs and something to do with drugs he assumed) so he had to find another cheap place to live and is currently working on moving in, taking a week off to do it.




"I’ve lost everything that was ever important to me, I have no one. I am a murderer, I am the reason behind the deaths of the only people I’ve ever loved. Why should I continue on when I have nothing to keeping me going?"

[[deleted user]]

(view spoiler)[Thanks to Chrys for the template! (hide spoiler)]

 


━ ♜ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━─ A R A D I A ━ E L ━ D A ' M E N ━━


      │ are you coming to the tree?[   Dɪᴀ / ʀᴇsɪsᴛᴀɴᴄᴇ   ]


      │▸ 23 -- 7тн Ocтoвer

      │▸ Fᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ -- sтrαιɢнтwear a necklace of rope


      │▸ ʙᴏʀɴ ɪɴ ᴄɪᴛʏ -- ᴏʀᴘʜᴀɴhope

     


      ━ ♜ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━─


            │ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇ ᴛʜɪɴɢs ᴅɪᴅ ʜᴀᴘᴘᴇɴ ʜᴇʀᴇ


            │ ɪɴᴅᴇᴘᴇɴᴅᴇɴᴛ ▸ sᴛʀᴏɴɢ ▸ ɢᴇɴᴛʟᴇ ▸ ᴅᴇʟɪᴄᴀᴛᴇ

Aradia is a redhead and certainly acts like one. She's very independent, and clever, but most of all, hates depending on others, especially men. She knows, and values her own worth, and doesn't care if anyone else undervalues it. In her point of view, all that matters is herself. Nobody will care for her, so why care for them? Simple as that.

 


━ ♜ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━ ʙ ᴀ ᴄ ᴋ ɢ ʀ ᴏ ᴜ ɴ ᴅ ━━━──


      │ they strung up a man they who murdered three


      │▸ Sʏʟᴠɪᴀ Dᴀ·Mᴇɴ -- ᴍᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ▪ ᴄᴏᴍᴍɪᴛᴇᴅ sᴜɪᴄɪᴅᴇ


      │▸ ᴜɴᴋɴᴏᴡɴ ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ -- ғᴀᴛʜᴇʀ ▪ ʟᴏᴄᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴜɴᴋᴏᴡɴ ▪ sᴛᴀᴛᴜs ᴜɴᴋᴏᴡɴ

Just because its simple doesn't mean its uneventful or unimportant. Her single, unmarried mother, Sylvia, was working a decent job and getting a decent payraise, enough to provide them for a while. All was well, until Aradia's 17th birthday. Her mother was fired from her line of work. Sylvia was not one to care much for her daughter, so maybe that's why she felt compelled to throw herself off a cliff. Whatever the reason, Aradia was thrown into the world all alone and unprepared, inheriting the little wealth of her mother's. She has no knowledge of her father at all and was left all alone.


She worked her way into the world to earn a name for herself. She devoted time and life to the resistance, dedicated to earning deserved fame. Nothing else matters, only herself. Nobody, and nothing will take her down once her mind was set.

Over the years, her name became well known among most. She's still not on the board yet, not technically, but she's still constantly trying her best to achieve recognition.

     


      ━ ♜ ━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━─


            │ ɴᴏ sᴛʀᴀɴɢᴇʀ ᴡᴏᴜʟᴅ ɪᴛ ʙᴇ ɪғ ᴡᴇ ᴍᴇᴛ


            │ ᴀᴛ ᴍɪᴅɴɪɢʜᴛ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ʜᴀɴɢɪɴɢ ᴛʀᴇᴇ

[mariah ash ♡ (i’m back from hiatus)]

Name: Nicholas DiLaurentis
Aliases or Nicknames: Nick

Age: 24
Date of Birth: July 1st
Time of Birth: 2:07 am

Gender: male
Sexual Orientation: heterosexual
Status: single; not exactly looking to change that

Allegiance: neither
Occupation: works as an intern/undergrad at a family friend’s law firm; occasionally volunteers/tutors when his sister forces him to
Hobbies: Nick prefers to do most things alone. He enjoys running, boxing, and diving, usually any activity that can distract his busy mind. On top of those, he is an avid reader and occasionally has deep, educational conversations with his father.

Image:
Written Description: Nick’s blond hair normally has a mind of its own and keeps itself somewhat unkempt but decently presentable. Most people’s attention are drawn towards his eyes though, green/brown and difficult to read, although some find it difficult to look at him when he’s turned his gaze toward them. They represent only a fraction of the mysterious and strangely observant aura he radiates with his presence. Others may also interpret his posture and model-like/athletic frame to be intimidating, especially when he seems tense and uneasy.
Height: 5’ 11”
Face Claim: Alex Pettyfer

Personality: People have said that Jordan and Nick are opposites and it isn’t hard to see why. While his twin is far more outgoing and a people person, he usually prefers to keep to himself and remain observant. Despite that, if you talk to him, he turns out to be generally likeable and can crack a smile. Whenever he does speak, the things that come out of his mouth can be witty, sarcastic, intelligent, and sometimes blunt (especially if he’s being honest). And the guy means what he says… 99.9 percent of the time. That’s why he and Jo are almost perfect complements to each other; he keeps her from anything that’ll take advantage of her kindness and vulnerability, and she’ll smack him in the arm if he says something she thinks is unnecessary or rude.

Generally, Nick isn’t the easiest person to get along with but it takes a little effort to get through to him and have him open up. Like his sister, he can be friendly and is willing to help people if he’s needed, but will say no more often than Jo does.

History: It seems that Nick grew up always knowing the world would be cruel. With a relatively quiet and observant demeanor, people often wondered if he was dumb or just an introvert. But a DiLaurentis, stupid? Certainly not. He was just a little more cynical than his twin counterpart, whom most people radiated towards because of her sunny personality.

Nick sailed through school with flying colors and, still quiet in his brilliance, rarely made many close friends. It was fine with him of course; usually the people he interacted with most were those that his sister hung out with, though that isn’t to say they all got along with his strangely intimidating behavior. Nick did take part in some communal and public activities when a) Jo dragged him into it or b) he actually took interest in it. But being the isolated soul that he is, he figured he’d leave those things up to his sister.

When it came to understanding the politics of the Council and Resistance, Nick already knew his neutrality by twelve years old. Not only had his parents and their viewpoints influenced him, but also Nick was smart enough to figure it out on his own. Aside from the occasional mentions of the Council’s history leading up to present day in school, of course his analytical and observant nature allowed him to see that it was safer for him and his family (or anyone, for that matter) to stay out of all of it. Neither side was angelic and just, but arguing for neutrality only led most people to attempt to fight with him and, irrationally, shun him as an enemy.

Today, Nick still finds himself sandwiched in a war that he isn’t sure involves him. His parents—a father that he puts on a pedestal and a mother too fragile even in his hands—encourage him in his and Jo’s endeavors to put their minds to use. With his silent guidance and logical skills and her tender kindness and warmth, they could be a powerhouse pair of leaders… right?

Talents/Skills: Despite Nick’s tendency to put off people and make them feel uneasy or uncomfortable, he has a knack for leadership. He’s usually well spoken though his ways of getting to people sometimes involves being a little harsh and “realistic,” much to his sister’s dismay. Nick, being the observant person he is, can read people fairly well and is particularly skilled in logical, straightforward thinking.

Aside from personality talents, he’s learned to be nimble and quick due to his history with sports and fitness. Though he knows his family would hope violence never touched them, Nick never failed to make sure he knew a thing or two about guns and other weapons since his combat skills can only get him so far.

Likes: diving, running, boxing, martial arts; reading, having alone time, people who have a brain;

Dislikes: people who don’t have a brain; when Jo is hurt or upset in some way; disappointing his parents (though that has rarely happened)

Ambitions: He thinks he has a desire to lead… maybe. In truth, Nick is unsure of himself and what exactly he could do. Everywhere around him, people are caught up in the drama and politics and war of the Council and Resistance but Nick doesn’t know that he wants part of it. He and his family have been neutral for years but it seems that nowadays doing anything other than being on a side is simply ignorance. That isn’t to say that they are necessarily turning the other cheek; certainly Nick would prefer to live in a world where people didn’t have to fear for their lives walking down the street, but at this point, he doesn’t know what to do with himself… and it makes him feel pathetic. He hates feeling like he doesn’t have a purpose and despite what Jo might try to feed into his brain and encourage him to do, there’s still a little voice inside him that says “Now what?”

Fears: Though Nick usually doesn’t open up to anyone about his intimate feelings and thoughts other than his sister, it doesn’t deny the fact that he is afraid of losing his family and living in a world that is full of war and hurt. In the end, no matter who is right or wrong, Nick does not want to be alone.

[mariah ash ♡ (i’m back from hiatus)]

Name: Jordan DiLaurentis
Aliases or Nicknames: Jo

Age: 24
Date of Birth: July 1st
Time of Birth: 1:59 am

Gender: female
Sexual Orientation: heterosexual
Status: single… and patiently, secretly waiting

Allegiance: neither
Occupation: splits time between tutoring, the library, volunteer work
Hobbies: Jo loves swimming and yoga, not only because they are great workouts for her body and mind but also because she believes in maintaining the body’s health. She avoids overwhelming herself with stress and negativity with books and spending quality time with the people she loves. Unlike Nick, who likes to keep to himself more often than she does, Jordan enjoys going out and volunteering, keeping herself among people and happy environments.

Image:
Written Description: Natural dirty blonde waves fall just past her shoulders (she pays a little more attention to her locks than her twin). Greenish-brown eyes match those of her brother as well (albeit with more open kindness). She’s usually always smiling and once people get to know her, the absence of any light in her presence can easily raise red flags. Though several inches shorter than Nick, Jo’s love of sports and bodily/spiritual health are reflected in her slightly curvy but slender figure.
Height: 5’6”
Face Claim: Jordan Pruitt

Personality: Jordan’s the type of girl who tries to see the good in everyone. She’s always very kind and understanding, characteristics she most likely inherited from her mother. Somewhat of a pacifist, she doesn’t appreciate drama or fighting or anything that disrupts the good nature of human beings that she wishes people embraced more. That being said, it’s difficult for her to live in a place where most people she knows are either supporting the Council or the Resistance. Her family has managed to stay out of the mess, seeing flaws and benefits in both sides, but ultimately realized it was less dangerous to be neutral.

Easily likeable, Jo also isn’t one to get angry often. She’s got a lot of patience and doesn’t hold grudges, and this usually comes off to some people as being a pushover… which is why it’s not rare for someone to take advantage of her sometimes. When her twin brother Nick thinks she’s being too forgiving with a person, he’ll attempt to be the voice of reason (he’s a bit of her polar opposite.) They sort of balance each other out that way.

History: Since birth, Jo has radiated sunshine and warmth. She was always a happy baby and in childhood, not much fazed her, even when other kids stole her toys or played unfairly. Her peers and teachers never failed to express to her parents that it was unbelievable what a kind and bright soul she managed to be every day. In addition to her contagious personality, Jo proved to be almost as brilliant as her twin brother. Perhaps less witty and sarcastic, she excelled in most of her schooling and directed a lot of her energy toward community services, school clubs, and volunteering events. Many people gravitated towards her and she befriended them all, even despite what political side they supported.

After all, she had learned to be a little more neutral than most of the city’s people approved, simply out of her parents’ and brother’s influence, and her desire to stay out of anything that involved anger and violence. Therefore, she’d always known from a young age that she had to help change and eliminate the existence of the war. Growing up, the DiLaurentis family knew another that supported the Resistance and when the twins were only fourteen years old, that family’s son suddenly didn’t show up to school one day and it didn’t take the swiftness of gossip for Nick and Jo to figure out the tragedy that had occurred.

Though neither twin had known the boy too well, Jordan, of course, took it harder than Nick did. She was heartbroken for the family and frustrated with both the Council and Resistance, and Nick was silently angry because of how easily his sister was hurt. He also disliked the reminder that they lived so deeply and closely to the war. It was unsettling.

It was more of a push of motivation for Jordan to do something with her knowledge and skills. Though it was sometimes cheesy that her parents referred to her and Nick has having the potential to be “powerhouse twins” for leadership, Jo knows they must be right. She believes in Nick more than he does and every day she only hopes one day they could change something.

Talents/Skills: After years of yoga and other athletic activities, Jordan has found herself to possess a slightly above average level of flexibility, which Nick had to insist would be useful in case she ever needed it… whatever that meant. Though Jo brushes that off, she prides herself in thinking she has great people skills and helping others when they are in need. When Nick doesn’t know how to be kinder and less harsh with his pep talks, Jo steps in and lightens the blows.

Likes: swimming, yoga; reading, music, spending time with family and friends; giving advice to and helping people with their struggles;

Dislikes: violence, arguments, people who are narrow-minded and/or have spoiled souls (usually she is sympathetic towards them);

Ambitions: Jordan has always dreamed of somehow finding a way to mend the broken bridge between the Council and the Resistance. Although her chances are probably slim (and insane, as most people have told her), Jo wishes to use her skills and success in helping others around her to expand that further into the whole city so that maybe one day, in her lifetime or not, everyone can live safely and happily.

Fears: With the heart and soul that she has, it is no surprise that Jordan fears a world of oppression and hate, whether or not she is living in it. Despite how positively she attempts to live, deep down she realizes that maybe she really is as naively happy as most people peg her to be… because the world outside her bright little bubble already scares her the most.

[KT]

Adrian Torrent Kingsley: Part One

▐ ❝My parents taught me what life was about. So I grew up the type they warned me about. They said my friends were just an unruly mob, and I should get a haircut and get a real job.❞


Nᴀᴍᴇ﹕Adrian Torrent Kingsley
Aʟɪᴀsᴇs ᴏʀ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs﹕King, Torrent



▐ ❝When you get angry, take a breath and count to ten. Throw a punch when you get to eight. Nobody expects that.❞


Aɢᴇ﹕20
Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ November 2nd
Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ 12:57



▐ ❝I want my eyeliner as black as my heart and my lipstick as red as the blood of my enemies.❞


Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ﹕Female
Sᴇxᴜᴀʟ Oʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕Panromantic homosexual
Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs﹕Single Destined for a relationship for purely plot drama, could have another for a little bit in between the plot points



▐ ❝I'm pretty busy today, so if you could just go ahead and offend yourself for me that'd be great. Thanks!❞


Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕Herself
Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕Street fighter, tattoo artist
Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs﹕
[Ｓｔｒｅｅｔ－Ｆｉｇｈｔｉｎｇ]
Street fighting is hand-to-hand combat in public places, between individuals or groups of people. Unlike sport fighting, a street fight might involve weapons, multiple opponents or revenge and has no rules. The venue is usually a public place (e.g. a street) and the fight often results in a serious injury or even death.

[Ｔａｔｔｏｏｉｎｇ]
A tattoo is a form of body modification, made by inserting indelible ink into the dermis layer of the skin to change the pigment.

[Ｓｍｏｋｉｎｇ]
Smoking is a practice in which a substance is burned and the resulting smoke breathed in to be tasted and absorbed into the bloodstream. In the case of cigarette smoking these substances are contained in a mixture of aerosol particles and gasses and include the pharmacologically active alkaloid nicotine.

[Ｄｒｉｎｋｉｎｇ]
The term “drinking” is often used metonymically for the consumption of alcoholic beverages. Most cultures throughout history have incorporated some number of the wide variety of "strong drinks" into their meals, celebrations, ceremonies, toasts and other occasions.



▐ ❝Cute? You think I'm cute when I'm angry? Then I'm about to get damn gorgeous. I don't need anger management. I just need people to stop pissing me the fuck off.❞


Iᴍᴀɢᴇ﹕


(view spoiler)[





















(hide spoiler)]
Wʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ Dᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Slender build but definitely ripped and muscular, but enough to still be quick. She has long, dark brown hair and a couple different piercings. The thing that draws the most attention is the tattoo sleeve on her arm, which she designed and did herself. But her eyes are also stunning, a deep grey blue.
Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ﹕ 5'6
Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ﹕Ewa Farna
Dɪsᴛɪɴɢᴜɪsʜɪɴɢ Mᴀʀᴋs﹕


On hip. "Qui Me Defendet Ab Me Terribilissimo Ipse?" This tattoo is in Latin and reads "Who protects me from the me who is most terrible?"
Sᴛʏʟᴇ﹕ (view spoiler)[







(hide spoiler)]



▐ ❝Beauty without expression is boring. And if I'm anything, I'm expressive. I express myself in my own body art, in the tattoo designs I create and give to others.❞


Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ﹕
Adrian is certainly her own person. She is fiercely independent, doing whatever she wants, whenever she wants. If she's told to do something or not do something else, there's a high chance she'll do the exact opposite of what you want. She's incredibly rebellious, and hates it when anyone tries to tell her what to do. This leads to a complete disregard, even contempt, for authority figures. She does what she wants and you'll all just have to live with that.

The few people she does respect are her fellow fighters. Within reason. If you can't fight worth a damn but you put your heart and soul into it and really try, she'll respect that effort and probably offer a couple pointers. Despite her competitiveness, she's pretty impersonal. Once she knocked someone on their ass and got her cash she doesn't have anything against them. She'll probably go over and buy them a drink. Unless you gave her a reason to want to fight her not just for the cash. If you make it personal what happens next is on you.

Surprisingly, it takes a lot to make it personal with her. She's emotionally hurt pretty easily, and she knows it. She knows it's her fault for being too sensitive. She will put up with an unbelievable amount of shit. She always just assumes that she's mentally overreacting and doesn't do anything about it. Even if it's something that she should be upset about and any normal person would be, she assumes it's her sensitivity and ignores it. She only has a few buttons and if you stay away from topics like her sexuality and her brother, she won't do much.

Even mentioning her bad habits doesn't do anything. She's technically under aged to be drinking , but that's never bothered her. Drinking and smoking are what she wants to do, so she's going to do them. Don't try and stop her. One of the few things that can make her serious is Lorin. She hates him. Despises him. Blames him for Hadley. The only reason she hasn't killed him yet is because Hadley loved him. It's the only thing saving Lorin from her. She still antagonizes him whenever she sees him, making sure he knows it's his fault.

[KT]

Adrian Torrent Kingsley: Part Two

▐ ❝Of course it's his fault. It has to be. Because if it's not his fault... That means it would be mine. It would be my fault my brother is dead. And I couldn't live with that.❞


Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ﹕
Adrian's father died before she was born, so she never knew him. But she was pretty close with her mom, at least in the first few years of her life. After a while her mother met another man, and married him when Adrian was 5. She didn't mind, she got along well enough with her new father, and she adored her older brother. She'd always wanted an older brother and he'd always wanted a younger sister, so it was perfect for them. They stayed close throughout her life, and he was the first one she came out to when she realized she was gay at age 16.

She started 'dating' a guy the next year, purely to dispel rumors of her being gay. She choose someone nice, someone she thought would be alright with the whole not having sex thing. After a month he started hinting at sex, and she liked him well enough to confess the truth. He did not take it nearly as well as she hoped. He was convinced that he could 'fix' her, despite her various protests. He raped her, trying to show her guys were better. She didn't tell anyone, ashamed of what had happened and scared he would tell everyone about her sexuality, which she had been shown was a bad thing.

But her parents asked her one day why she'd never had a boyfriend. Adrian finally told them the truth -- and they flipped. They thought her sexuality was horrible, an illness, and fought to send her to an insane asylum. Adrian was having none of that and so she left, having no contact with her parents since then. She dropped off even her brother's radar, spending time on the streets getting to know people. She learned how to defend herself and just generally get along in that rougher environment. She made friends, true friends, for the first time.

But her brother was worried and tried to find her, and she didn't stop him. She told him the truth, about her rape and their parents reaction- a fact he hadn't known. He cut ties with their parents as well, and the next thing Adrian knew her ex 'boyfriend' was found dead with a bullet in his heart. She wasn't stupid, but she never asked and Hadley never brought it up. Glad to be back with her brother she moved in with him, meeting his boyfriend. He didn't want her to feel helpless again and trained her in fighting and self defense, adding to the skills she'd picked up on the streets. When she went back to visit her friends she learned even more, soon becoming a great fighter. Hadley was not happy when he found out she'd been visiting street kids, however. He was scared something would happen to her.

As an act of defiance Adrian finally said yes to an offer she'd been refusing for a long time. And with that one word "Yes," she joined her first official street fight. And she rocked it. She did it more and more, sneaking out to do the fights and taking in cash from it. She was famous: everyone knew King was the best and wanted to try and beat the champion. And she knocked them flat every time anyone tried. But then someone slipped up, and the cops found their fights. Hadley was not pleased, to say the least. He got the charges dropped but she got a lecture and grounded. Not that she listened. She did it anyway. Even when she accidentally killed a couple people in the ring... She convinced herself it wasn't her fault and went back to it. Again and again, Hadley would have to arrest her for something but let her off. And she'd go so it again.

Finally, enough was enough. And he finally let her get arrested as a lesson. He only planned to let her stay in jail for a couple days, but how was she supposed to know that? He visited her and they got into a huge argument, ending with her shouting at him that she hated him and him leaving with both of them in tears. And the next day, he was dead. Hadley was killed in the line of duty. He was working with Lorin at the time, and she blames him. She despises him, blames him for Hadley's death. She'll never hurt him since Hadley loved him, but she thinks it's all his fault.

[ӍдѕҞa]

"Life isn’t fair. You’ll die like everyone else eventually does. Get over yourself."

Ｂａｓｉｃｓ
│ Nᴀᴍᴇ │ Sophelia Camilla Laurien
│ Nᴀᴍᴇ ᴍᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ │
(view spoiler)[ Sophelia- Wisdom, Helper[Greek]
Camilla- Perfect[Italian]
Laurien- Of Laurentum[Dutch]
(hide spoiler)]
│Aʟɪᴀsᴇs │ Miedo
│ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ │ Sofia



│ Aɢᴇ │ 30
│ Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ │ April 23rd
│ Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ │ 3:46pm
│ Pʟᴀᴄᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ │ Hospital
│ Zᴏᴅɪᴀᴄ │ Taurus
(view spoiler)[Element: Earth
Ruling planets: Venus
Symbol: The Bull
Stone: Emerald
Life Pursuit: Emotional and financial security
Vibration: Determined energy
Secret Desire: To have a secure, happy and wealthy life/marriage.
(hide spoiler)]



│ Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ Rᴏʟᴇ │ Feminine
│ Bɪʀᴛʜ Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ │ Female
│ Sᴇxᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ │ Heterosexual
│ Pʀᴇsᴇɴᴛ Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs │ Single
│ Pᴀsᴛ Rᴇʟᴀᴛɪᴏɴsʜɪᴘs │ N/A



│ Tʜᴇᴍᴇ Sᴏɴɢ: │
│ ᴍᴏDᴇ ᴏғ Tʀᴀɴsᴘᴏʀᴛɪᴏɴ: │

│ Fᴀᴍɪʟʏ │
│ Pᴀʀᴇɴᴛs │
OPEN Name Bede Laurien
Relation » Mother |◦ 50 » ◦| Status » Alive
|Image|: (view spoiler)[[image error] (hide spoiler)]

OPEN Name Austin Beckett
Relation » Mother |◦ 52 » ◦| Status » Alive
|Image|: (view spoiler)[[image error] (hide spoiler)]

│ Sɪʙʟɪɴɢs │

Name Xalavador Laurien
Relation » Brother |◦ 24 » ◦| Status » Alive
|Image|: (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]



"I have trained hard to not be tortured, I’ve sweat days where I wished I could just die. I have survived, I may be loyal but it is because I hate everyone as much as I hate them."


Ａｐｐｅａｒａｎｃｅ
│ Iᴍᴀɢᴇ │



│ Hᴀɪʀ │ Long straight black hair
│ Eʏᴇs │ Dark brown

│ Cᴏᴍᴘʟᴇxɪᴏɴ │ Naturally tanned, smooth flawless skin(face)
│ Bᴜɪʟᴅ │ 5.4, athletic built, lean, muscular but feminine hourglass figure.
│ Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ │ Sofia Boutella
│ Dɪsɢᴜɪsɪɴɢ ᴍᴀʀᴋɪɴɢs│


Many other scars littering her body.




"Dancing is my passion, if only my life wasn’t controlled by the Council. Dancing makes me better, it isn’t something they can ever take from me."



Ｐｅｒｓｏｎａｌ
│ Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕ │ Council of Nine
│ Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕│ Council's Assassin/Hit-woman/Lapdog
│ Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs﹕│ Killing/ Fighting/ Dancing/ Training/ Cooking



“I’m Broken.”



│ Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ │
Sophelia has been trained to express no emotion whatsoever, a talent she excels at. She naturally is aloof and to herself though, making herself seem withdrawn and boring. Unfortunately due to what life has handed to her, she is withdrawn, finding comfort in herself since she knows she’s the only one she trusts. She is obedient only because she’s aware of the consequences she’ll received if she isn’t. She’s viewed as boring often as well, in sense that she doesn’t do anything with herself, but that is because she is so withdrawn. She doesn’t express herself, communicate nor share anything with anyone. She is closed off, hating everyone but still doing what she’s told despite having developed a hatred to following orders. She’s actually calm, one to never anger despite her actions towards other people. She has an aura of a scary, calm anger but she doesn’t tend to lash out. She gets her motivation to do her job well due to her sheer determination as well as her awareness of punishment that will follow if she fails.
Sophelia is a discreet person, going back to the point that she keeps everything to herself. The only joy in her pathetic, murderous, life is dancing. Dancing is the only time she actually doesn’t feel like a killing machine used for the Council’s benefit, she actually feels like a person, someone with feelings and a desire to do more than what she’d been given. She doesn’t believe her life can get better, she just goes through the motions. She enjoys the small comforts she gets and is an introvert through and through.
Sophelia is typically a brutal person, though just in the sense that she does not think twice about her actions because she’s sure of them in the first place. She doesn’t look back and she doesn’t allow herself to ponder over what she’s done, feeling no remorse or guilt. Maybe there is some deep in her mind but she doesn’t acknowledge it.
Despite Sophelia’s general exterior persona, she is a kind person, intelligent and resourceful with a bit of sass and a whole lot of hidden attitude. This is only revealed to her victims occasionally because there is no consequence or risk for them to see the side of her, though again, they do not get the chance to experience her kindness due to circumstance. She does fear that she won’t ever get out of her situation, that she’ll be stuck this isolated and emotionless until she finally fades away, dies or finally taken out.

│ Lɪᴋᴇs │
☻ Cooking
☻ Dancing
☻ Sleeping
☻ Eating
☻ Reading

│ Dɪsʟɪᴋᴇs │
☹ Council
☹ Resistance
☹ Torturing
☹ Killing
☹ Being Told What To Do

│ Sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜs │
✮ Speed
✮ Intelligence
✮ Emotional Detachment
✮ Killing Abilities
✮ Literally a Weapon

│ Wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇssᴇs │
☆ Emotional Detachment
☆ Loss of her Legs
☆ Physical Strength

│ Fᴇᴀʀs │
✗ Always being in the Council’s control
✗ Being Alone Forever



"I’ve been given my mission, no one will stop me, I am just a weapon controlled by the very people I despise."

[ӍдѕҞa]

│ Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ │
▌►Creation◄▐
In the beginning, Austin –a intersex/a hermaphrodite woman—and Bede met, working at the same company found themselves being partnered for an assignment needed to be done in a month. They at first weren’t too keen on the idea, both woman being very independent and stubborn. Eventually, with all the time they had to spend together, learning about each other and being there in each other’s most vulnerable moments. They formed a close bond and eventually a relationship in that single month. Once their assignment was done they didn’t cease their contact with each other, only getting closer until Austin and Bede became officially girlfriends. For the next few months they continued their relationship, falling deep in love with each other, nearly spending every hour of every day talking to each other. Soon they moved in with each other, finding they didn’t need to get married or anything like that since they were too close for that and it was an unnecessary thing in their minds.

Unfortunately, they didn’t know everything about each other. Bede, when she wasn’t with Austin or working at her job, she was with the Resistance, actually being a part of the leadership of the cause. Bede was a powerful woman in that world, successful, almost brutal but she was fair and passionate. She strongly believed that the Council was good for nothing and they needed to be taken out. While Bede lived this secret life, Austin’s secret life involved the opposite cause. She wasn’t a Council fanatic but she believed strongly in the Council and favored them over the Resistance. Austin wasn’t the type to murder just because people believed in the Resistance but she was a speaker persuading people why the Resistance isn’t to be trusted and should be ended (non-violently in her mind) before society itself fell.

It was about a year after they first met to do that assignment when they revealed the other’s life in the shadows. Bede was returning from a late night meeting, though she told Austin it was for work though in any actuality it was for the Resistance. She passed by a crowd when she paused to see what was going on to see that it was Austin, preaching about the Council and telling everyone who gathered that the Resistance had to be stopped before it was too late. Bede was horrified to find out the love of her life believed in the cause she was against. She quickly made her way home, unsure what she should do but she eventually knew that their relationship couldn’t continue. She couldn’t place Austin in danger knowing who Bede actually was, putting her into a spot where she would have to choose what she believed in and who she loved. Bede waited all night for Austin to return but she didn’t not until the next evening when Bede finally had passed out from the long wait.

Austin had stayed away that long because after speaking, she had discovered a rumor that Bede, well her alias that Austin was aware of, was in fact the same as a Resistance leadership member’s name. Austin didn’t know how to take this, she still wasn’t completely sure it was Bede but she had a strong suspicion it was and she was dreading it. She only returned the next evening, finally finding some courage to face Bede. Unfortunately, upon her return and Bede waking from the noise of her opening and closing the door got up to confront her. They stared at each other for a bit, not speaking before they both blurted out what they learned. Eyes widening, they both got into a fight that soon ended with Bede storming out with a packed bag of her belongings, her heart bleeding as she left her angered love behind to protect her and herself.

A few weeks later, Bede –who has been staying in Resistance safe houses since she didn’t feel like doing anything else and had quit her job as well—came to realize that she was in fact pregnant having missed her period by a good week and a half. Bede hadn’t really believed it at first, having to have visited the doctor before she believed it and even then she was surprised and shockingly happy. She had something that still connected her to Austin which lifted her spirits.

▌►Birth◄▐
Unfortunately, when Bede had a month or so left in her pregnancy, Austin had the misfortune to have the Council reveal themselves to her. They had been on a lead, a work colleague of Austin’s and Bede’s had been looking into everyone there looking for people that could possibly be part of Resistance’s upper ranks. They’d been looking into Bede when she up and quit her job. So the only way to further their investigation, it required them to go to the person she spent the most time with. Upon meeting Austin and asking her about Bede, they knew immediately she knew something so, without a second though they took her from her home and into the Gaol and proceeded to torture her the remaining time Bede had before she would give birth. Eventually, two days before Bede was to go into labour, Austin broke, revealing to them that Bede was a member in Resistance leadership but she hadn’t seen her for about nine months.

Having that confirmed but her being no more use to them they let her go, with the promise if she was ever contacted by Bede again that they’d immediately contact them or they’d kill her. Austin agreed out of fear, but she knew in her heart she would never betray Bede again, having already and she felt horrible, she felt depressed and so upon Austin’s release she took comfort in alcohol.
Meanwhile, the same day she was returned home, Bede was in the medical center giving birth to their child, a baby girl that she ended up naming Sophelia--a name Austin had repeated said she loved.

A week later though, finally moving into a small flat and hired a babysitter to look after Sophelia while she was busy with the Resistance or her new job, the Council located her and visited her flat a day she was off with the Resistance, an unplanned meeting. The person they hired murdered the babysitter but since Bede wasn’t there they contacted their Council employer to ask what they wished for them to do. The Council being who they are told the person to take the child and bring it to them. The hired hit man did as they told him to do, leaving a nice note in the babysitter’s blood to inform Bede that she won’t ever be safe.

SO when Bede returned home that night, she was met by death and the loss of her only child. She was distraught but she didn’t have much time to mourn as she grabbed what she direly needed before she ran, going into hiding but not relying on the Resistance knowing since she was discovered that her rank would be taken from her. Besides she didn’t want to put anyone at risk knowing the Council was targeting her.

▌►Beginnings◄▐
Sophelia, being taken from just a few weeks after birth was of course looked after and nurtured so she wouldn’t die as an infant since the Council had plans for the young child. She was fed, held, ‘cared’ for but even as an infant she knew something was off, therefore the infant never cried, not once. She made certain actions to represent what she wanted or needed but otherwise she was fine being left along for periods of time to play with whatever they gave her, that or sleeping. By the time she learned to walk—which was at nine months—they began to teach her, at nine months. First of course it was just talking, pushing her to learn and if she didn’t get it by the end of the day or didn’t even bother trying, they punished her. By the time she passed her second birthday which went un-celebrated, hell she wasn’t aware that her birthday passed, they’d taught her how to talk as good as any adult, read and write, and move with grace instead of the usual waddle that most young children do. However, by this young age, she was well aware of consequences of her failures, familiar with beatings and having to tend to her own wounds.

This treatment continued till she was six, being taught, tutored daily. She had grown withdrawn, cold and not the type to talk much unless she was forced to. Although, she was taught everything she’d ever need to know, which meant she knew at the age of six what most eighteen year olds knew. If she hadn’t known or developed the skills they taught her, she was punished much like what was done to her after nine months. Despite all the tutoring and knowledge they treated her more like a prisoner than a child that needs love and attention. From age two she was kept in a cell like room, cement walls, thick door with a small barred window, she had a single bed that wasn’t comfortable in the slightest, a sink, a toilet, a desk and a small dresser to hold her clothes. She was given food twice a day, handed to her through a slit in the door and she was watched as she bathed.
Unfortunately for the young child, the worst was yet to come.

A few months after her birthday (which she had been finally informed of so she could keep track instead of them) she finished learning all that they could teach her, so they began the first step in her real training, which was becoming basically their hunting dog and assassin. That first step though was the most important, since if she was ever caught, they would need to make sure she wouldn’t spill anything. Therefore, after her birthday in those few months, things went 180 with her usual routine. Instead of being tutored and educated, she was brought to a room with a drain in the center and a single chair above it, along with a table filled with different tools. They strapped her to that chair and for days on days they tortured her, defiled her, gave her pain that no six year old should ever have to endure. They kept this up for months, making sure they gave her a few days off between sessions so she had time to heal, only of course so she wouldn’t die. This continued until she neared her seventh birthday, when she finally stopped screaming from the pain and was more broken than before though they viewed it as being stronger.

After about half a year of being tortured, Sophelia was ‘immune’ to pain, she felt it but she now had the ability to ignore it until later on when she had the time to deal with it. So after her seventh birthday they furthered her studies, focusing more on biology and areas that would increase her ability and skill in killing. The only positive thing that came after the months on months of torture and hard-core education was she was upgraded to an actual room instead of a cell. It was still cell-like, she couldn’t leave the room unsupervised but it was much warmer and livable than her previous room.

Additional to the education to further her ability to kill, they began her training. She was first given an exercising routine that she had to stick to and do daily. She didn’t understand why but knowing not to question or fight them she did as was told, stuck to the routine, tutoring and then exercising and repeat, being fed and having breaks of course. About a few months of this routine it was soon changed, cut back because they added in training. This was the beginning of her training with weapons, punished for making mistakes and failing though it didn’t do too much to her anymore but it scared her and scarred her in more ways than one.

[ӍдѕҞa]

By the time Sophelia was eight, she knew how to maim, mutilate and murder. She was forced to learn how to, became an expert in handling every weapon in various ways. For her final initiation, she had to take down three fully grown men who had been training to kill for nearly their whole life. She did it successfully, fearing the result if she failed. She hated them, she hated them with passion but she could never act on it, especially now when they especially didn’t trust her.

▌►Becoming a Weapon◄▐
Finally after two more years of uninterrupted, countless training and education, making her a weapon for the council, she was given more freedom than she once was given. It wasn’t much compared to regular people’s freedom but she was not kept a prisoner in her own room anymore. Still it was an opening to escape when she needed one. She kept good, behaving and doing what she was told and excelling in every way in her learning and training. She wanted them to relax, giving her more leniency to escape.

After about two months of giving this freedom, she attempted her escape, key word attempted. Despite how good she was being and trying to see normal and casual, to be trusted they knew she was going to attempt an escape, planned on it frankly. Any sane person would try an escape especially after everything they’d put her through, she was still a human being despite how they treated her. They caught her on the bottom floor, letting her almost get a taste of freedom before merciless ripping it from her grasp.

Unfortunately for Sophelia, instead of the usual, normal punishments--that didn’t really work too much on her—instead they chopped off her legs, specifically the ligament below the knee. She was then left in her room for the next two weeks (after making sure she was stable and not going to die) in her room, her door open and knowing she couldn’t ever escape. She spent most of those two weeks crying over the loss of her legs, the loss of freedom that she almost had, and cried from the life she had been handed. It was the first, and the last time she cried.

After those two weeks, she acknowledged the fact that she would never get away, that she was their toy to do what they pleased with. She accepted this reality and decided to stop trying to fight her fate. She still loathed the Council and what they stood for but she became loyal to them. Once they knew she was loyal to them (psychiatrist checking her over to confirm) they gave her, her legs back. Unfortunately they weren’t prosthetic legs, in fact they were a metal arch with a blade down the middle that extended when in use. They had equipped her with weapons that could never be properly be taken away. They changed her schedule once again, twice actually after receiving her new legs. At first it was rehabilitation, since she needed to adapt and be able to actually move around on them before they could further her training. This took a few months to get back to the grace she once had and once she had they changed the schedule once more so additional to her tutoring (which wasn’t a long amount of time, just an hour or so a day) and her regular training with weapons, they added self defense, physical combat of every kind as well as a form of gymnastics due to the fact her main weapon was now on her feet.

She fell into each routine effortlessly, working harder than ever before. Soon though she learned literally all they could and would teach her so instead they began to lecture her about the horrors of the Resistance (most which she didn’t believe fully but she listened nonetheless) as well as any information they’d gathered and had on them.

By the time she was trained fully that she would even be a serious threat to the Council, she was sixteen and ‘completely’ loyal to the council, a cold, graceful, merciless killing machine (though due to the fact she was a teenager she had developed some attitude and sass that she kept hidden most of the time).


▌►Lapdog◄▐

By the time she was eighteen, fully prepared and tested in her abilities thoroughly as well as the fact they could actually trust her, they began giving her tasks and assignments, missions for the Council, specifically they treated her as their lapdog. They told her what she needed to know and sent her off to complete it, failure to follow or successfully do it resulted in punishment of the worst kind. As she got into routine and knew how exactly to get these assignments done it became rare for her to ever fail a mission given. Mainly because she feared the brutality they would bestow upon her so it became mandatory to her to succeed.

Turning twenty, Sophelia had maimed, mutilated, beaten, tortured, murdered, acted as a spy for the Council and seduced various people for different reasons but she’d also endured torture, beatings, mastered assassination and has been raped twice without the ability to do a single thing about it (due to the fact it had been superiors, one being a man who’d trained her).

Her first spying mission was an interesting one, specifically it was to spy on a business man that the Council wanted information on, specifically to see if they should be allied with him though there were already many pros to it, but they needed to make sure he wasn’t in anything dirty like his best friend. So she was hired as the help, a maid to be specific and she stayed with Mr. Harman for a few months, digging into his computer, following him and many more. Casually listening in on occasional meetings but she didn’t find anything nor did she gain any trust or became any sort of confidant. Mr. Harman was a private man that was polite but cold to everyone.


Another mission that she often dreams, no, has nightmares about is when she was 19 and instructed by her superior that the Council had discovered a Resistance’s safe house and they wanted her to get in quietly and assassinate everyone occupying the safe house. This of course wasn’t an option, she had to do it and didn’t have a choice in that matter. So she left after reading the information and layout of the place, though limited. She checked the place out herself at first, planned how she should get this done before she stuck that night, slaughtering everyone occupying the safe house, men, woman, children, everyone knowing if she left anyone alive it would bite her in the ass. She is haunted by it though as well as other experiences she had to endure because of the Council.


This continued, being the Council’s lapdog, doing whatever they asked of her and soon, by the time she was 25 she was finally able to leave the Council’s clutches, to an extent. She was able to get her own flat (close to the Council building of course) but she was enabled this small amount of freedom that she grasped like it was her life line. She was able to delve in something other than mindless killing and assignments she had to complete and soon she had taken to cooking, enjoying the relaxation of it. She also feel in love with dancing, of various styles and threw herself into that art as well. She spent all her free time either dancing, cooking or sleeping all actions she enjoyed and helped keep her sanity but also assisted with developing an attitude but also frankly it thoroughly settled her introvert personality since she spent hours alone by herself. Both activities were something that the Council couldn’t take from her or force her to stop, dancing especially since it only increased her ability to kill efficiently.

Despite the little given freedom no sparks of rebellion grew within her, knowing the consequences full well and wasn’t about to risk it. She continued to do everything the Council told her to do despite the hell it all caused her. She did it all without question, without remorse or guilt. She’d grown to separate herself from her emotions to do her job well and without hesitation. She hated herself sure, she hated the Council even more but she continued to live a life she despised and wished she hadn’t been given.

Unfortunately, when she was 27, she took advantage of her freedom, ignorantly befriended a woman who lived in the room beside her. They were becoming close (though Sophelia kept everything about her past and basically everything about her hidden since she was so wrapped around the Council’s fingers). They learned of this friendship though and without hesitation killed the woman Sophelia befriended, left her body in Soph’s room and left a note warning her against making friends or even talking to other people or else, in her friend’s blood. This occurred after only knowing her for two months. Sophelia’s hate only grew for them but she didn’t cry, silently mourned for the loss of her friend but she took their warning and applied it well, keeping everyone at a distance.

To forget the horrors she’d endured and continuously had to do for the Council, she cooked and danced until she perfected both, much like how the Council had trained her to function, work at it until she masters it. Unfortunately she continues to train as well so her skill doesn’t become lacking, mainly because she is forced to continuously meet her trainers on certain days, certain times or else.

▌►Current Life◄▐

Nothing much has changed for Sophelia in the last few years, she still is ignorant to who her parents were, hell she doesn’t even think she had parents at one point, she still cooks and dances as well as doing assignments for the Council. The only thing that has changed is the amount of blood on her hands.

She’s praying for the day that she’s free from the Council’s clutches but she knew if that day came, she highly doubted she’d be able to live with herself with everything she has done. SO she lives through every day with a routine, often spending time reading when cooking or dancing holds no logical appeal to her.



"Nobody can stop me, so give up before you get killed."

[[deleted user]]

"I can be who I want to be, dammit. Fuck all the people who tell me no."

Nᴀᴍᴇ﹕ Siersha Ann Ivere
Aʟɪᴀsᴇs ᴏʀ Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇs﹕ Sieran, Mad Hatter

Aɢᴇ﹕ 20
Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ October 11
Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ 11:10

"I don't quite get why everyone thinks we have to be together romantically. We're zucchinis. Does no one believe in actual, close friendships these days?"

Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ﹕ Greygender {considers herself mostly feminine with something else in there but can't really bring herself to care}
Pʀᴏɴᴏᴜɴs﹕ Usually uses she/her/hers/herself, but fine with anything other than "it"
Sᴇxᴜᴀʟ Oʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Aromantic asexual
Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs﹕ Queerplatonic relationship with Christian Gavriil Voclain

Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕ Neutral {she likes the resistance better but has no interest in actually supporting them}
Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Astronomer, Knife thrower
Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs﹕ Street-fighting, street-racing, practicing with her knives, writing, doodling, reading, taking care of Gavriil, buying things for Gavriil, spending time with Gavriil


Wʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ Dᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ﹕

Siersha would claaim to be neither the prettiest girl in the world or the most feminine. Despite her long hair, she tends to have a more androgynous gender expression and freaks at the thought of wearing a dress. She can hardly tolerate skirts. She has long brown hair that is greasy and a bit stringy no matter what she tries to do to it. She loves wearing hats, primarily fedoras. It's where her nicknames, "The Mad Hatter", comes from -- she wears hats and is often pissed at someone or something. Her cheekbones are high and defined, and her lips are always ready to smile or pout or whatever else. Her dark eyes are expressive, and she makes plenty of strange expressions. She gesticulates rather emphatically also. Her skin, like her hair, is always greasy. She overheats easily and sweats profusely, and she does a bit of physical exertion too. She's thin, but she's mostly muscle with only a bit of fat. She also refuses to shave, claiming she won't bow to societal customs she disagrees with. She also has longer hairs on her chin and sometimes jokes she is growing a beard.

Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ﹕ 5'8"
Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ﹕ Astrid Berges-Frisbey

"Speak badly about my friend. Do something bad to him. Hurt him. Please, I dare you. I'll invite you on the stage as the target for the next demonstration of my knife throwing skills, and I assure you, I don't miss."

Tʜᴇᴍᴇ Sᴏɴɢ﹕ "Dynamite" by Amaranthe
Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ﹕

First thing to know: anger management issues. Major anger management issues. She used to always come home with a split lip or black eye or bruises from the fights she would get in at perceived insults -- to her, yes, but mostly for Gavriil. She cannot stand people using him the way they do. A lot of time she likes to "punish" those that do him wrong -- especially the ex-boyfriends. Those she would chase after and beat up or torment for weeks with her knives or, in the case of that one, almost castrate. She doesn't really have boundaries with her fury except for no killing. Most of her anger is on the behalf of Gavriil. And once she's pissed, she does not forgive easily and she is hard to reason with. She is pig-headed at both the best and worst of times.

She has a sweet side, too, but one has to be close to her to see it. This is the side that would cry before going to her father's house every other day, the side that would watch television with Gavriil's head in her lap or vice versa. This side is usually hidden by the tough exterior she puts on with really everyone else. That Siersha would tell someone to fuck off before she would hug them. She doesn't take shit from really anyone and she will give people a tongue-lashing for even thinking about trying. This tough girl is the one who gives those shovel talks. She does what the hell she wants whenever the hell she feels like it. Toward people she cares about but also does not really like -- aka, her father's side of the family, she is incredibly passive aggressive, going to extremes to show how pissed she is without really showing it. With Gavriil, well, she never gets angry with him.

Stress destroys her in its own way. When she's stressed emotionally, she tries to numb the problem. She stays up later, wrapped up in reading stories that show the same emotions she feels. She will stay up all night from it. She would be lying if she said she didn't have some days where she didn't try to escape through death because of the people she loves, the people who she thinks would give shit if she were gone. She often is subjected to the same stressful situation, before which she sobs and wants to rewatch things for comfort. She tends to prefer nerdier things like science fiction and fantasy and space opera. She also has a tendency to binge eat (particularly sweets) when stressed emotionally, but when she's focused and trying to get shit done, she can easily forget to eat.

Siersha was never the closet type. If she thinks something, feels something, she would let the world know in the most dramatic way possible. She makes sure to let all her new "friends" know who and what she is and tells them that if they have a problem with it they can just fuck the hell off. This is as much a defense mechanism as anything else. She doesn’t want to be hurt the way Gavriil has been and therefore makes sure people won't freak about who she is later by just fixing it ahead of time. She figures anyone worth talking to would talk to her anyway.

She does not fully trust anyone except Gavriil. She doesn't have social anxiety or any of that. But she doesn't trust her own social skills and she doesn’t trust that people actually want to be around her at all. Most of the time she thinks people are just trying to be nice and not upset the girl with scarily accurate aim with her knives. Most of the people she talks with now only noticed she existed after she made her first public demonstration with her knives in an attempt to make people leave her alone. She is sure most of these people are just around because of the notoriety being seen with knife-girl would bring. Half of these people don't even know her name.

She does and has struggled with both her sexual orientation and gender in the past. Because there is a focus kn romance on sex in her society, talk of crushing on people from an early age, Siersha expected that for herself, too. She tried to have crushes, but it always felt forced until she finally gave up around age thirteen and slowly worked herself to the conclusion that she was aro ace. She does think androgines are better looking than any others, followed by people of the female sex. She finds the idea of sex repulsive, especially sex with a man. Her struggle with her gender came later. At age fifteen, she started dressing in more gender neutral clothing and doubting she was actually female. Afrer being forced to watch a video on fashion, she came to the conclusion she was not female. She asked Gavriil for help with it. He agreed. She talked to her own mother not long after, and she convinced her that she could still be female without being feminine. She had her doubts, but she decided to try for a while. About six mknths later, the doubts returned, but she couldn't find something that she felt more than feminine -- she was not androgynous, or agender, or gender fluid, or anything else she could find. Only months later did she find anything about "greygender" and she knew instantly that it fit her. Though she tells everyone she is greygender, she goes by a girl. Her struggle with gender has made her terrible sensitive when it comes to this despite pretending she really doesn't give a shit. It irks her whenever she has to explain that asexuality is a thing and what it means and that yes, it is even possible. The same goes with her being greygender as well.

There are things in her past she is very not proud of and would never talk about to anyone but Gavriil. Most of that is in connection to her father's house and the things that go down there and who she feels she once was over there. These were some of the reasons she always struggled with going: she hated how she was there. Especially once she started having some more self-destructive tendencies while over there, she hated it. She would so oftenmake herself miserable and just hope they would notice. She always had to exaggerate to get them to notice, and then she didn't ever say what was wrong. She also has a lot of abandonment issues from this, feeling like people hate her if they cancel something or if they can't talk. She only really trusts Gavriil not to leave or hate her. She cannot stand being compared to her father, with whom she shares her arrogance and her gestures, and hates thinking about dealing with that house. However, her identity always being under question has made her more certain of who she is and wants to be.

[[deleted user]]

"History: one of those things most people regret about half of. I think the only thing I could regret about mine is that I can't re scare off any of Gavriil's boyfriends, the little shits."

Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ﹕

Siersha's parents weren't rich when Siersha was born, but they were happy enough. Siersha's mother was a bit of a pushover when it came to relationships at the time and did a lot of things she disliked (camping in the Outskirts, stuff like that and nothing sexual) to make Siersha's dad happy. Siersha's dad was a tech guy and loved the outdoors. At the time, Siersha's mother was a teacher in the Outskirts. She had been a Heart of the City kid, but she felt more called to help the less fortunate.

It was a miracle that Siersha was even born. Her mother's placenta failed a couple of hours before Siersha was born. Her mother's labor had started, but the hospital nearly dismissed her because the baby wasn't coming. It was only because of a bladder infection that Ellis wasn't dismissed from the hospital. Fortunately, with the help of a C-section surgery, Siersha was born just fine, only a day late. Both her parents adored her, and a few days later, Siersha was taken home.

Siersha's mother took six years off right after Siersha was born. Siersha's father worked still, and that provided enough income for the family to be fairly stable financially. Because Ellis didn't have work, her friend Cassandra often left her son, Christian Gavriil Voclain, with the Ivere family. So besides, her mother, Gavriil was the first person she really knew. And she imprinted on him, always following him around and taking an interest in everything he did. She adored him, and he seemed to really like her, too.

Siersha didn't really make any friends besides Gavriil. She tried once. She was five when she became "friends" with Keira. Keira came up to Siersha one day when Siersha had been alone, drawing on the street (Gavriil was at school). Siersha was shocked that this girl just came up to her and started talking to her. Siersha was actually nervous at first, but within that day, she viewed Keira as a friend. Keira was the first and last time Siersha would ever let someone else dictate what she did. It was only a week before Keira started bossing her around, telling her how to play various things.

Siersha had never hated anything as much as she did Keira. She had always been fiercely independent and didn't even like following directions; she much preferred to do things her own way even when it was entirely impractical to do so. Keira's bossiness made Siersha mad. Here her first passive aggressive behavior started emerging. If Keira told Siersha to do something, Siersha would just disobey in small ways -- giving Keira the pencils she hated, walking slowly to do things Keira asked of her, etc. Keira was someone that made Siersha cry whenever faced with the prospect of spending time together.

Siersha's home life was good. She was entirely oblivious to Ellis starting to do less of what Terenzio wanted her to and the problems that caused. She was happy, and she thought everything was happy. She often went to her mother for advice on what to do with the situation, especially since Siersha's father had become friends with Keira's family. In fact, Siersha's dad often invited Keira and Keira's dad when they were meant to go places together. Siersha hated it, and while her mother gave advice, she more often turned to Gavriil, who was better at both comforting her and distracting her.

Siersha was shocked when she started school and Gavriil would come and talk to her in between classes. She had assumed that as he was older, he would not hang out with a younger student. She was so happy and would often hug him in the middle of the hallways. However, she began to notice a bit more about Gavriil's social life. While Siersha had done her best to keep her isolated from her peers, going so far as to tell her not to hang out with other people or even physically keep her away from them. Siersha only disobeyed her in that respect because she would not give up the person she was closest to, Gavriil. As Siersha watched Gavriil's relationships with other people, she made up her mind that no one was walking all over her (or Gavriil) like that and getting away with it. The first thing to go was Keira. Siersha steeled her nerves and gave the other girl a tongue lashing. She always gave Keira dirty looks whenever their fathers forced them to spend periods of time with one another. She even punched Keira more than once.

Eight was when all of the fights began. She started going home injured at the end of the day -- a split lip, a busted knuckle, a black eye, bruises everywhere. And suddenly, she had a bad attitude, too. She'd yell at people. And anything that seemed remotely like an insult was not going to be allowed to stand. Insults or hurting Gavriil or even just hurting her -- those were things that could pull her into fights like absolutely nothing else could. And she had no regrets about beating people up for them either.

But in January of that year, things sort of fell apart for her. That was when her parents announced they were getting a divorce. She'd been oblivious to all the problems they had had beforehand. She didn't necessarily blame herself and the fighting (although she may have subconsciously factored that in). Indeed, she was shocked, and maybe a little hurt that she hadn't been warned. But she wasn't one of those kids who wished that her parents would get back together. She just hoped for them to move on.

Any upset she felt at her parents' divorce she quickly learned to ignore especially since it was only a few more days before Gavriil's father died. Siersha instantly put aside any pain she had at her parents' divorce aside for him -- Cassandra and Gavriil still had not been told, and both Siersha and Ellis silently agreed not to tell them. Siersha did all she was able to comfort her best friend even though she knew nothing she could do or say would be enough.

Only three months later did Siersha finally tell Gavriil that her parents were divorced, that her life had suddenly changed even before his father had died. And by the time she finally told him about the divorce, her father had already started to fancy another woman by the name of Voira Irving. Only eight years old, Siersha found the idea of having a step-mother terribly cool even if she didn't know the woman. Said idea would be much less cool once she got to know the woman. But when she told Gavriil, she was actually happy about the divorce despite feeling a little betrayed by her parents.

School continued as it had. She still fought a lot, and as she didn't have a parent with a high enough position to get her out of any punishment. As a result, she got suspended fairly regularly for fighting or cursing out other students or back-talking to a teacher.

Her schedule between her two houses developed, too. Siersha visited her father every-other weekend, on Tuesday nights, and for breakfast Wednesday and Thursday mornings before school. She found this schedule stressful, but instead of saying something, but she said nothing. There wasn't much she could do about it, so she decided to use a more "passive" outlet for her frustration. But to deal, with Gavriil's and her mother's aid, she just marked it all on her calendar. There was a lot she could do to be passive aggressive about it, but it would take her father's engagement to Voira for her to really be full-on passive aggressive about it.

Siersha became closer to Gavriil for both of their struggles, and with that, her indignation at people's treatment of him crescendo-ed. By the time she was nine, she was good enough at fighting people her own age and a couple years older (she'd always been fairly tall) that she won most of the time. But one day, it was a kid younger than she was that insulted Gavriil, and he insulted Gavriil behind his back worse even than most kids Gavriil's age. She just threw a punch and then just kept hitting, her rage fairly blind.

Her mother stumbled on them and started screaming. It shocked Siersha out of her rage, and she stumbled backward. She didn't regret punching, fighting -- that would be ridiculous -- but she had so clearly won the fight and she'd kept punching until the other kid was half-dead. She sagged against a nearby wall while her mother figured out how to get the kid to the hospital. Siersha couldn't stop staring at her hands, almost entranced by the blood and rawness of the skin. She couldn't believe what she did. She felt a bit of disgust at herself for going so far, but she felt a certainty in her stomach that he had deserved it. She wasn't sure what to think of it, wasn't sure what she thought of having done that to another person, wasn't sure what to think of her mother taking the kid to the hospital, of the look of horror in her mother's eyes. She was just stunned. She would remember that look in her mother's eyes, and she thereafter thought if her mother saw her dark side again, she might be unloved by her mother. Siersha felt lost and cried a bit until her mother returned and gave her a pack of throwing knives, a target, and a punching bag to use to manage her anger. Siersha felt like she had a new purpose when she opened that pack of knives.

The knives weren't the most important. It was that she had a skill to master, a thing to focus on. Something that gave her purpose. And it made her happier than anything other than Gavriil. She started to focus almost entirely on her knives and Gavriil very intently. Nothing else made her happy. But her knives didn't help much with her temper. It just gave her a greater range with it. And people started shying out of fights with her. Siersha wasn't exactly sure what she was supposed to do without fighting.

Her home life became even more like two different poles as her dad got together with Voira. At first, she liked her. Voira was pretty, and she paid a good amount of attention to Yen. And as far as she knew, there were not any problems with her. She thought she had won the stepmother lottery. Voira had a son by the name of Zakhar, who went by Zak. Zak was four years older than she herself was.

Zak had a bad attitude, liked heavy metal, and decidedly disliked Terenzio. Voira seemed okay to her son, at least from a distance. Siersha still liked Voira when, six months later, James asked Siersha if it would be okay if he were to propose to Voira. Siersha said yes. A huge part of Yen would always regret saying yes. Her regrets started later that day when Ellis picked her up from her dad’s.

“What do you think of Voira?” Ellis asked.

And then after very little thought, she said, “I don’t think of her as a mother. Maybe an older sister or an aunt.”

[[deleted user]]

Things with her dad continued to deteriorate. Her dad retreated emotionally, hiding behind a wall of sarcasm. Things felt sort of cold, like half of her soul had to shut down just to survive it. When she was with her dad, and Voira, and Zak, she would often be dragged for hours out to stores because Voira and her dad had this thing about seeing “who could save more money” via the use of “coupies.” Siersha would trail after them for hours, bored silly. She would often take the twist-tie for the bags and braid them or make shapes with them. Fairly often, she would braid Voira’s hair and then tie it in position using those twist-ties. Sometimes, she would bring her knives and choose a random item at the store to use as her target.

Her mother's house was the good house even if Siersha felt that if she were too horrible her mother would stop caring about her. The disappointment in her mother's eyes was freshly imprinted on her mind still. But her mother comforted her and gave her advice like she always had done, and Ellis held Siersha while she sobbed about going to her dad's and tried to "hide".

Still, more than anything, it all led her to become even closer with Gavriil than she already was -- which meant she was very, very close to him. He was the only one she really was able to explain things to properly to. She knew intrinsically that he would never judge her for how she felt. She made sure to listen to him, too, though he almost always refused to complain about anything. Siersha so often felt so guilty for complaining about anything to him as a result, so she often just said that the same old stuff was wrong without explaining the details.

Things began to get even worse, from emotional repression and boredom to the worsening of that and the beginnings of the “Lucifer Effect.” Voira controlled the mood of everything. When she was mad, one would try to be as small as possible. When she was happy, one found oneself happy. When she hated, one felt that same hate — except for one hate. Voira hated, was jealous, of Ellis, and once she realized how close Siersha was to Gavriil, Gavriil. Siersha still loved her mother and Gavriil and thought of them even more as life-lines. The one time Siersha tried to mention something that happened with her mother, Terenzio came over and said never to do that again because Voira didn’t like hearing about things that happened while she was not around.

And that is what began to happen with Siersha. Voira’s hatred of Zak seemed to penetrate her. To her never-ending shame later in life and even whenever she was at her mother’s, she would come up with schemes to be horrible to Zak (but never act on them). Voira helped her and adored her for it, for all her skills with her knives. She almost came to hate how good she was with her knives as a result, a hatred that wouldn't be overcome for years, but she could never bring herself to stop. She would always wonder if her father knew any of it. She doubted it. Whenever she was there, she felt like a horrible person. And she was so ashamed that she refused even to tell Gavriil about it or acknowledge it when away from the problem.

Her own patience with the situation nearly broke, too, with the severity of the situation. At nights, while she lay awake, she would contemplate running back to aer mother’s flat or Gavriil's house, where she knew she was safe. But she didn’t actually because she knew it would do no good, just as hiding when her dad came to get her did no good. And if she ran there, her mother and Gavriil could get in trouble too. But running . . . that was not the only solution she had thought of either. There was also death, and by the time she was ten, death wasn’t looking like such an awful escape. The only thing keeping her alive? Gavriil, Gavriil and her mother. She didn't want to think about what would happen to them emotionally if she committed suicide.

Her mother tried her best to make her happy, or at the very least, able to deal with the struggle. She would go over everything that was positive about Terenzio. Siersha would later wonder sardonically if it had helped Ellis, too. Through it all, Gavriil held Siersha when she sobbed in despair at going back to her father's. He did everything he could. She tried to burden him with less of it even though he would be the only person she could tell. Sometimes she had to bite her tongue to keep from admitting everything. It was enough for Siersha to keep going.

Finally, on her eleventh birthday, Voira and Terenzio finally broke up. They had been fighting constantly for years leading up to it. Siersha was their when her father accidentally knocked his phone off his balcony after one argument. It didn't matter to her that he didn't buy her a present that year because he and Voira breaking up was the best gift she could possibly think of. Still, fear and despair at going to her dad’s house was so ingrained that ae still hated going to her father’s. Things did, however, improve even if Zak and his friends egged Terenzio’s flat and stole packages. For the first time since Terenzio and Ellis went their separate ways, Terenzio was blatantly happy.

The breakup was the first time Siersha went to Gavriil and was sobbing from joy. It was that day that Gavriil told her he was gay. Siersha told him that was cool and that she was honored he'd trusted her with that since he was so clearly nervous about it.

At the time, Siersha herself was still trying to be "normal". She tried to have crushes on a couple guys and one girl. It always felt forced to her, but she tried. And then, the girl, who was called Ashleigh, asked her out. And then it all came pouring out, how she had no interest in sex with anyone or really romance in general. Ashleigh just smiled and patted her on her shoulder and asked, "So you're like aromantic asexual then?"

Siersha blinked before quickly agreeing, realizing that that was indeed what she was. She told Gavriil that night while they were watching a movie together. He was as accepting to her as she was to him. Siersha didn't realize that around the same time, Gavriil's mother had turned out to be a homophobic bitch. In fact, Siersha wouldn't realize until a little bit after she'd already realized she was also greygender.

Right after her dad and Voira broke up, Ellis found someone. Or more like, a guy who helped at one of the places they volunteered at developed a crush on Ellis, and Siersha found him fun and was always talking with him. And in late fall, the man, Daveth Merritt, asked Ellis out. For the first month, Ellis refused to admit the pair of them were dating. But quickly, Ellis knew he was it, and they were married six months later.

Unlike with Voira, Siersha liked Daveth and continued liking him. They teased each other incessantly, sure, but they liked each other. Daveth had two kids, Jayme and Aharon, who were both older than Siersha. They were both nerdy like Siersha could be (Siersha was not good socially and was usually excluded), and they were smart. Jayme was good with a sword.

Just a couple months before Ellis and Daveth got married, Terenzio met a new woman by the name of Chava. Chava had two daughters, twins, who were a year younger than Siersha herself was. And she was happy enough until she was forced to spend copious amounts of time with them. For a while, she thought of Iscah and Nikora as whiny brats — they certainly acted that way. Once, when she did not get a hoodie she wanted, Iscah wailed in the car for half an hour and begged to go back to the place. Nikora had even started crying as a result of Iscah’s wails. Iscah's outbursts were worse when they happened, but Nikora's happened on almost a daily basis. Terenzio always said they should send Nikora (and maybe Iscah) to the orphanage for a while to give her some discipline since he thought that was where the issue lay. Siersha disagreed but never said anything about it and instead took out her anger at the suggestion on effigies of her dad, Voira, and Chava.

But then, one day, on a "family outing", Nikora told Siersha that Iscah had an eating disorder — anorexia — because their dad had always been telling her about how certain foods were horrible for a person and because Iscah did not take the divorce well. Siersha did not know if she believed it at the time. Later, it would be confirmed. Apparently, Chava forced Iscah to watch a documentary on eating disorders and told her she would die if she did not fix it. Siersha, of course, only learned about that years later. She never would learn how the eating disorder was “fixed,” but that was just the first step in the long chain of issues that led to the end of that family.

Siersha only told some of it to Gavriil, but she told enough that he knew that family was about as functional as the last. Siersha loved being at her mother's. She had a truly functional family -- a functional family with two parents and everything. Gavriil and Siersha spent more time at Siersha's than at Gavriil's. Siersha never pried, but she knew somehow that everything was not all right between Gavriil and his mother. In fact, the trail of boyfriends that Gavriil had that left him even more broken-hearted than before was proof, and Siersha knew it. She couldn't get him to stop no matter how much she tried.

She gave terrifying shovel talks -- each was more terrifying than the last. And she was sure to make good on every single one of them. By the time Lance came along, the would-be boyfriends were quaking in their boots. Lance should have been, but he just laughed it off and told her he thought violence in a woman was sexy. She punched him in the face for a comment after she had threatened to castrate him, mar his face, and maybe do something even worse to him. Weeks later, when it turned out Lance was straight and had just been messing with Gavriil, Siersha made good on her threats. Well, she sort of did. More accurately, she pinned him to a board using her knives and then sent on at his crotch that split his dick in two before changing angles and using her knives to slice it off bit by bit. She then used her knives to write "Asshole" down his back and an "L" on his forehead. He'd be too embarrassed to let anyone know until years alter when Siersha was sixteen, almost seventeen. Lance's girlfriend had already left him, and he didn't get a new one.

Things at her dad's house actually improved. Siersha was ecstatic, and Gavriil was happy for her. She even became able to stand being compared to her father at all, which was something that hadn't been true since before Voira. And then weekend, the shit hit the fan.

All at once, Terenzio refused to let Siersha volunteer (something she'd wanted ask of him for years), and she got a God-awful migraine, and it was discovered that Nikora had been lying when she said she'd stopped cutting. Anything mildly sharp was taken from her, and she was taken to the hospital to see if there was anything that could be done to fix her.

Siersha disagreed with everything.

They forced her into therapy sessions that made Nikora more miserable, but they also made Nikora feel like the source of all the problems in the house when it was the family dynamics themselves that were the problem. Nikora became one of the few people she trusted, third to Gavriil and second to her mother. The adults there paid less attention to any of the children. Siersha found she could be pissed, throwing daggers at effigies of people, have a migraine, be vomiting, have a panic attack, and none of them would notice. It sort of helped create her fear that all her friends (except Gavriil) hated her secretly, more than Keira, who had inhibited the development of her social skills, had.

[[deleted user]]

Siersha spent evenings with Nikora, just letting the other girl talk. She was the only one who agreed that maybe hiding sharp objects wasn't effective, that therapy wasn't being productive. But all three kids had long since stopped viewing themselves as part of a family that involved the adults. Nikora had few friends at school. One of Nikora's friends was Keira. Siersha tried to give Keira the benefit of the doubt because Iscah and Chava were very against her and said she was bad news and made Nikora very upset with that. Siersha holds grudges very easily and failed to let everything from her past with Keira go. Chava started to turn to Siersha, too, to try to make her a mini-Chava like she did to Nikora and Iscah. Siersha couldn't stand it and flat-out threatened Chava that things would not end well for her if she tried it again. Things just kept spiraling over there. Some days, things were decent, other days, they were buckets of pickled shit hitting multiple ceiling fans. Siersha hated going over there, but she made sure she was there for Nikora whenever she was needed, especially at school.

Siersha was sixteen, almost seventeen, when what she had done to Lance started being heard around the school as rumors. The rumor had been circulating a month before the people in charge of the school confronted her about it and kicked her out. When they confronted her, she grinned, shrugged, and said that he'd been aroused and it'd made it all the easier to do before informing them that she didn't regret it because he deserved it and more. She struggled to go home to face her parents' disappointment. She ended up moving into Gavriil's place almost immediately, but she kept the truth of why she was no longer in school from him, claiming she was done and just didn't feel like going anymore. She knew he'd be upset if he knew what she'd done.

She got a low-paying job as an astronomer for a small firm and started performing with her knife-throwing skills. She loved her work, especially when Gavriil performed magic with her. She loved it even if she spent a lot of time worrying about Nikora at her father's house. She tried to meet up with Nikora every week.

Then one day around the time Nikora turned sixteen, Nikora didn't turn up. It wasn't the first time, and Siersha tried to keep herself from panicking. Eventually, she worked up the nerve to call Nikora's phone. Nikora wouldn't pick up. So she called her father, and he went to Nikora's room to find her dead, her corpse with slit wrists. Siersha was shocked -- she'd known Nikora was cutting, but she also knew Nikora had always been terrified about what lay after death. She blamed herself for no longer being in school but also that entire family for driving her to it. She shouted at them and walked out. A few days later, she came home to Cassandra yelling at Gavriil, and somehow his sexuality came up. Siersha was already a mess and on a good day has an awful temper. She got into a shouting match with Cassandra, shouted that she was ace and not even a girl thank you very much, and the match ended with Siersha punching Cassandra in the face. She walked Cassandra out of the flat and didn't come home for days. She walked to Sapphire Park and started throwing her knives at a tree until they were all dull and the tree just about ready to fall over. It was around then that Gavriil found her and got her to talk.

For the first time ever, she lied to him. She knew he'd known her step-sister was cutting, but she wasn't ready to tell him that she'd committed suicide, especially when she sort of blamed herself for not being there. She told him she'd died in a car accident. Siersha sobbed herself to sleep most nights then, and one of the habits she'd developed in the negligence of her father's house, her self-made insomnia in favor of reading depressing pieces of literature to comfort herself, returned. Only about five months later she finally admitted she'd lied to him and said what really happened.

Siersha felt lost for the next couple years, and as a result, she based her life around Gavriil. She would do her work, but the entire time would be spent worrying about him. Every second she would spend with him if she could. She was just as protective of him, but it started to be more just of him. She started street-fighting. She enjoyed it all -- the adrenaline, yes, but also the pain. She became more reckless than ever, too. Sometimes she would street-race, too, despite not being good at it. Street-fighting she kept secret from Gavriil, telling him that she'd just gotten into ordinary fights like she always had. (He probably knew this was not the actual truth). She always put the earnings into his bank account or bought him little gifts. She endeavored to be there for him always.

She started coming off as even more selfish because she became significantly less empathetic towards everyone not Gavriil. She was aware she was slipping into the person she hadn't wanted to be, and as a result, she made sure to dote on Gavriil even more. Helping him was the only thing that really made her feel complete, like a half-decent person. She became aware that there were warning-signs that he was cutting (having become familiar with them through Nikora), but she vowed never to confront him about it or hint that she knew lest he follow Nikora's path.

Keep Gavriil safe and "happy."

What else is there than that? What could possibly fulfill her more than that?

"Some families you love, some you hate. But family is whom you choose for yourself."

Fᴀᴍɪʟʏ﹕

With mother:

>>Ellis Ivere-Merritt; mother; 49; alive;
>>Daveth Merritt; step-father; 57; alive;
>>Jayme Merritt; step-sibling; 26; alive;
>>Aharon Merritt; step-brother; 22; alive;

With father:

>>Terenzio Ivere; father; 49; alive
>>Chava Ivere; step-mother; 49; alive;
>>Iscah Agnusdei; step-sister; 19; alive;
>>Nikora Agnusdei; step-sister; would have been 19; dead; died at 16;
>>Voira Irving; dad's ex-fiance; 49; alive;
>>Zakhar Irving; Voira's son; 24; alive;

"I don't do make-up. I don't do dresses. And I'll be damned if I don't fight for what I believe in -- you got that?"

[[deleted user]]

"Get between me and power, me and keeping the Council of Nine in power, and I'll snuff you out like a candle."

Nᴀᴍᴇ﹕ Nyco Drake Voclain
Nᴀᴍᴇ Mᴇᴀɴɪɴɢ﹕

>>Nyco -- derived from the Greek "Niko," meaning "victory"
>>Drake -- English name meaning "dragon"
>>Voclain -- French surname meaning "wealth"

Aʟɪᴀs﹕ Nikita Eld
Nɪᴄᴋɴᴀᴍᴇ﹕ Call her Nyco Drake; she dislikes all nicknames

Aɢᴇ﹕ 28
Dᴀᴛᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ September 9
Tɪᴍᴇ ᴏғ Bɪʀᴛʜ﹕ 9:49

Gᴇɴᴅᴇʀ﹕ Female
Sᴇxᴜᴀʟ Oʀɪᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Sapioromantic Demisexual, does not see the need to be with only one person at one time
Sᴛᴀᴛᴜs﹕ Single now, but it will get complicated with Adrian and Mallorie

Aʟʟᴇɢɪᴀɴᴄᴇ﹕ Council of Nine
Oᴄᴄᴜᴘᴀᴛɪᴏɴ﹕ Council Member
Hᴏʙʙɪᴇs﹕ Recording History, drinkig tea, reading history, learning, interrogating criminals, checking up on her spies, bantering, using some drugs to stay awake better, programming

Iᴍᴀɢᴇ﹕

(view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]
Wʀɪᴛᴛᴇɴ Dᴇsᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ﹕

Nyco Drake has wavy black hair, which she has a tendency to wear up in elaborate knots and braids. It gets greasy rather easily. She has blue-green eyes, which can look almost turquoise in the right lighting. She likes having eyeliner around them. She has medium lips that are more on the thin side. Her cheekbones are fairly high, giving her a more angular face. She prefers pantsuits to dresses. She keeps her nails painted black.

Hᴇɪɢʜᴛ﹕ 5'11"
Fᴀᴄᴇ Cʟᴀɪᴍ﹕ Katie McGrath

"Piss me off, I dare you. You might survive the next few moments, but I assure you, you'll be begging for hell before the end."

Pᴇʀsᴏɴᴀʟɪᴛʏ﹕

When she was a kid, she had an explosive temper -- she would shout, throw things, hit people, curse them out. She couldn't form attachments, but maybe that was more because she didn't want to. She was a genius, but she couldn't care for others. While she thought herself the most brilliant person in existence and became highly arrogant as a result, she also developed a deep self-loathing and awareness that her more sadistic tendencies were evil, yet she never bothered to keep them under control as a result. Maybe that was because it would have satisfied her mother or because she did not care enough. She was always fairly rude and vulgar, and she was very anti-social. She never cared about societal customs. When she turned twelve and more-or-less ran away, she learned to intimidate and torture people into submission to get what she wanted.

By the time she was sixteen and a city council member, she could not care about anyone. She was very into her books, which she used to hone her mind. It was her belief that reading about the past could make past flaws avoided. Her mind was very dynamic, but it was also very hard to stimulate, and she could often get almost catatonic when not doing something. As a thing for survival, she started practicing mental exercises -- counting time to the millisecond and tapping various rhythms. She came to fear that she would not wake if she slept (or people would hurt her; indeed, her mother nearly sold her to a brothel for money once while she was sleeping, a fact that did lead to her last argument with her mother). She eventually came to stay awake for days on end and rely on caffeine and other stimulants to keep her alert.

She is very intuitive as well, enjoying situations where she has to rely on it. She loves to argue and challenge those around her. Where once she did hate everyone, events at the beginning of her time on the city council taught her that if she has to deal with people, the same people, on a regular basis, making an effort to dislike and not despise them is a good idea. Though she would never admit it, not even to herself, she may actually care for a few members of the city council. She likes bargaining so that she can get herself more benefits out of everything. She dislikes being thanked and asking for help.

She is paranoid and has numerous locks on her door. She does not trust easily. She prefers to keep her identity secret and maintains her faked death to give herself another layer of security. She is naturally both defensive and self-assured simultaneously. She has numerous insecurities, and a lot of self-hatred, but she tried to keep that all locked in a box in the corner of her mind. When it is brought to light, she tends to be a little less reasoned, and a little more sadistic and violent. Her strategies and plots are what matter to her the most, and her goal is to stay in power and keep the Council of Nine there too. If there are additional benefits are there, she will murder. She hates the resistance, especially because her mother loved it, but she thinks it needs to stay around because they, particularly she, can control and predict its actions much better than any alternatives because they are familiar with its patterns.

"My past taught me four things: {1} I'm going to hell, {2} Intimidation is the only weapon that gets what a person wants, {3} No one gives a flying fuck unless you make them, {4} No one gives a shit about love, only hate."

Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ﹕

Nyco Drake would say she only has a father, a father who has had an ancestor -- a male ancestor -- on the Council of Nine since the very beginning, since before they had even overthrown the king. She is named for her ancestor who helped to overthrew the king in the late eighteenth century. His name was Nyco Kai Voclain. She is Nyco Drake Voclain. Before they had overthrown the king, the Voclains were merchants and mages, men and women who lived apart from the rest of society. Men and women whose very livelihoods were threatened by the ideals of mercantilism that had invaded their home kingdom. They were some of the most powerful mages of the era until they were trapped within the confines of the wall, where magic died. Her bloodline was reputedly one of the more insane after that where before it had been comprised of level-headed people.

The Voclain line originated in Phoenicia long before the time of the Romans. Here they became merchants for thousands of years, making their fortune off shipping and trading goods, particularly the purple dye for which Phoenicia was famous. After the destruction of Carthage in the third Punic War, the Voclains moved to the outer reaches of Gaul. They stayed there, travelling mages and merchants (often trading with Great Britain and opposing Caesar at every turn), before in the thirteenth century adopting their current surname. It was in the fourteenth century that they moved to the island that now contains the city. The Voclain family quickly came to dislike the absolute monarchy, an idea from French. They were important in the revolution from the very first.

Nyco Kai Voclain's first marriage was to a proper Phoenician woman named Tanithia. They had a son together and named him Sibal Dax Voclain. She died shortly before the revolution. To secure an alliance, Nyco Kai married a woman of the Macleod line, royals from a different country. Her brother joined their council as a result. Her name was Blair Macleod. They had a daughter by the name of Devon Fae Voclain. When Blair's brother betrayed them, Blair fled with little Devon. Nyco Kai's final marriage was to a Native American woman who had been his navigator on his ship. Sayen, her name was. Sayen and Nyco loved each other, and she cared for him after the insanity set in. They had twins, a boy and a girl called Citlali Kem Voclain and Rayen Cas Voclain respectively. After Sibal chose to go and marry a man (to his father's disapproval), Citlali became Nyco's heir. Nyco Drake is descended from that line. Rayen married a man approved of by her father, but due to patriarchy, was not allowed on the city council.

Nyco Drake knew this, of course. She always would know this sort of thing. She adores reading about history, and members of her family have had a tendency to write and record journals since apparently before the beginning of the city as it is now. But for all her family had always had power and been magical, they were always incredibly misogynistic, and she is the first female Voclain to have become a city council member. She'd be lying if she said she weren't a little proud of that.

Her mother came from a family much less renowned. In fact, no one had ever heard of the Tiovonens until her mother's rise to power within the resistance. Her mother's name was Rosaline. Rosaline came from a poor family from the depths of the Middle City Slums. She never had enough food as a child. Rosaline was faced by a dead end the city council had created. And it did not take long for her family to fall apart. When Rosaline was eleven, Rosaline's sister, Valentine, was raped and left for the dead in a back alley. The family searched for her for days. Rosaline found her, and Valentine died in her arms, but not before Valentine claimed this was done by a police officer. Rosaline joined the resistance then just days before her father moved the pair to The Outskirts. The second Rosaline turned sixteen, she returned to the Middle City Slums and took a job at The Soul and the Dragon. She was a stripper, and Zorion Locke Voclain took an interest in her. So when she was just seventeen, she purposefully forgot to take her contraceptive and had Zorion get her pregnant. She forced him into marriage based on her child. Somehow, she was able to be persuasive, and Zorion was enamored with her.

Zorion and Rosaline's daughter, whom they decided to name Nyco Drake Voclain, was born when Rosaline was eighteen and Zorion was twenty-one. Zorion adored his little daughter, and perhaps that's what cemented it in Rosaline's mind. To Rosaline, Nyco Drake represented everything wrong with the world.

And she hated Nyco Drake for it.

Shortly after Nyco Drake's birth, Zorion's father died, and as a result, he was told to leave his wife and daughter in order to become a member of the city council. He sobbed as he abandoned them and promised to give them money. Rosaline cried as he left, but as soon as he was gone, she smirked. It was because of her plot Zorion's dad was dead and because of her plot they now had a connection to the city council. She became a member of the resistance council for her brilliance and ruthlessness.

But it was because of Rosaline's hatred of the city council that Nyco Drake turned out the way she did. Nyco Drake was not an ordinary baby or an ordinary toddler. She cried rarely, and she did not start talking until two years after she started school. But she did have a temper as a toddler. If something pissed her off, she could not let it go. She'd hit and kick. Her mother would always tell her before she went to bed that Nyco Drake was a horrible person and did not deserve life except for the role she'd play for the resistance's defeat of the government.

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Nyco Drake was exceptionally bright. She was reading informational texts and doing maths by the young age of three. She started school the following year, even being a few years ahead in her studies than the average person beginning school. The thirteen-year-olds in her class were at first perplexed. They antagonized her a little, but in general, they rarely had any interest in speaking to her.

When she was six, her home had not improved. School, learning, and the streets were a sanctuary for her. Of course, their mild antagonism and silence would turn into bullying. Or it would have. Nyco Drake had not yet learned the value of controlling her temper, and her temper was horrid. She smiled at the boy trying to antagonize her. He was fifteen, and despite that she was tall for her age, he was much taller than she was. She reached into her back pocket and snapped, "you piece of decomposing shit! I have a fucking gun in my back pocket." And then she shot him repeatedly. In front of the whole school.

He was dead.

She was not.

And the school did nothing about it.

Her home situation got worse. Her mother's abuse started to get physical. Her mother's words toward her got fouler and harder and harder to ignore. And so Nyco Drake started believing them.

She was on a one-way street to the pits of hell.

She did not deserve life.

And her mother, whom she still trusted for some messed up reason, was a trusted source of information. And these now came a slap. A kick. A whip to her back. And Nyco Drake rebelled against this. When she was eight, her mother tried to shoot her in the wrist as a way to hurt her, to make the words sting more. Nyco Drake snapped fine before taking out her own gun, shooting herself in the shoulder, and then shooting her mother in the shoulder, too. Her mother's screams were louder.

Nyco Drake went to the hospital on her own, got the bullet removed, and barely gave any signs of the pain until it healed. People left her alone and school, and she liked that. She liked the looks of fear everyone gave her. She was long since done with the regular content of school, and was doing stuff more advanced than any of her peers could have managed. They would suck up to her if they had a project to do, and she hated that. She decided quickly that manners were shit, and no one deserved them.

With age twelve came a change in lifestyle. Nyco Drake had always been a light sleeper, and when she heard her mother talking to someone she did not recognize, she woke up and eavesdropped. It was her mother talking to the owner of a brothel, trying to sell Nyco Drake herself. She waited until the two women came in to assess the wares before shooting the woman. Her mother did not get it quite so fast or easy.

Nyco Drake set down her gun for what she did to her mother and pulled out her dagger. She stabbed it repeatedly through her mother's right wrist, the one to which her dominant hand was attached. And then she used the same knife to pry out her mother's eyes. Her mother's screams were music to her ears. Having severed them from her mother's face, she stuffed them back in the eyesockets so hard they burst. She left her mother like that, eyejuice dribbling down her face. She picked up her dagger, licked it clean, got her gun, stuffed it in her pocket, and left while saying, "This? This is just the fucking beginning. I come back, you're in for a whole fucking shit-load of pain, you got that, bitch?"

Nyco Drake started to live on the streets after that. She spent most of her time divided between school and the library. She was long since past any of the material typically taught in school. In fact, there was nothing they could have her do in school except have her teach younger kids. That was bound to work, obviously. A girl with a murderously explosive temper teaching young children. It worked as well as could possibly be expected. One of the teachers questioned her one day in front of all her students. Nyco Drake wasn't wrong, but she didn't appreciate being questioned in front of all the students. She didn't kill the other teacher. She just pulled a dagger, pushed the woman against the wall, and cut her dick off. She then announced to the class, "See this? This is the dick of a dick." She was smiling. Remorse was a word from some foreign tongue.

Needless to say, the school told her she was not coming anymore after having petitioned the city council not make her come anymore. Of course, it was Zorion who'd approved this even if he was horrified by whom his daughter was becoming. No longer going to school meant less money though -- no more food easily stolen and no more minuscule "paycheck." But the streets suited her. She was tough, and street kids had heard of her and refused to go anywhere near her. She was just as alone there as she had been when she was at school. She liked it.

But by the time she was thirteen, she was desperately in need of money. Like, seriously. So she went to one of the best known places to go get work -- The Soul and the Dragon. She hated the atmosphere, claiming it too loud by far. But she was right that it was the best place to find work. She found a man looking to hire a hitman. She said she was the best. She wasn't the best, obviously, and the man told her as much. But then, Nyco Drake made a dangerous move -- she walked right over to a table of police officers and the dark-haired man sitting with them. From there, she shouted that city council propaganda was a "pile of fucking shit that's been left out for a week and then pickled and fucking baked in hell." And the police officers did nothing -- unbeknownst to her, this was because the man at the table was her father. She didn't feel his sad eyes on her as she walked back over to her prospective employer's table.

Said employer didn't refuse her help on the project. In fact, he was quite clearly terrified of it. And that was how Nyco Drake started to create her reputation in the criminal underworld -- all under the name of Nikita Eld. She was told to kill a member of the resistance on that first job, and she complied more than willingly. She gave her employer the man's head. The rest she left on Rosaline's doorstep -- just to terrorize her mother as revenge and for the sake of the act.

It was on her second job that she met Mallorie. The same man had told Nyco Drake that she was to steal the blueprint of an advanced weapon from a high-security office. When she was there, so was another girl. She had dyed her hair half one color and half another. And she was after the same blue-prints. They fought for almost ten minutes, neither shying from seriously injuring he other, until they realized that they were sent by the same man. Bruised, bleeding, and probably a lot more injured than that, they introduced themselves, Nyco Drake calling herself Nikita Eld. Nyco Drake took a few minutes to memorize the plans (weapons and such interested her). They resolved to do something . . .fun . . . to the man that had hired them both. That, of course, involved absurd amounts of pain for him and fun for them. They became "friends" -- more like business partners or acquaintances following that.

Nyco Drake, still calling herself Nikita Eld, got a couple more jobs before she met Melanie again. She'd learned a couple tricks about sneaking around, and her reputation grew quickly. She was ruthless, good at what she did, and she had no qualms about any of it. And she had money of her own. Nevertheless, she never bought herself a place to stay. She always stayed in the city council section of the library where she could keep learning and where she could sleep almost entirely undisturbed by any intruders.

Not long before her second job with Mallorie, a man tried to assault her in the middle of the street. Nyco Drake had always carried a knife in her sleeve, and she was barely able to stick it in his left wrist as he moved to unbuckle his pants. She didn't really know what happened then. But a moment later, she was standing over his corpse and panting with relief. As it turned out, he was a powerful gang lord, and killing him gave her a lot of street cred.

She started getting more jobs then -- people actually started looking for her to complete their jobs because of her reputation. It was her first taste of real power. She could refuse jobs as she wanted and she felt like she was important. It was a feeling, a joy, that would never leave her. It was the first time anyone thought she as worth anything.

Her next job with Mallorie was the assassination of a double-agent, a man who worked for both the resistance and the city council. Their employer wanted the man's head. Nyco Drake left the rest of him on her mother's bed. She would do that, leaving her mother little "gifts" to torment from it. She found it pleasing in a very sadistic way.

Nyco Drake kept having more jobs with Mallorie until almost every job was with the other girl. And then, when they were fourteen, after one job, they ended up kissing. A few days later, they'd used their combined wealth to buy themselves a flat. Kisses started to lead to more. To Mallorie, she was always Nikita Eld, killer extraordinaire.

And then one day, as Nyco Drake was going to leave her mother another little "present", she came in to find her mother's skin turned inside out and hung up on the hatstand. Nyco Drake's lips curled up into a smirk, and she trailed her hand up and down the bloody inside. She walked further inside, trailing her bloody hand along the wall, before coming upon the rest of her corpse. She laughed. She'd later meet the son of the woman who had done it -- Lorin Fay was the son's name. It was the closest she would come to thanking anyone. Still, her mother gone and not by her hand, she felt sort of empty.

She then got this job with a man with "close ties to the city council." And he kept giving her jobs until she was in his sole employ. Little did she realize that the man was her own father, Zorion Locke Voclain -- at least not until long after. He was kind to her and began to teach her about the city council and being in power. She would later learn that he was aware the other members were becoming fed up with him, and he wanted to teach his successor the basics, particularly as she was his daughter. And Nyco Drake learned how to be in power quickly, and it sort of marked a shift in her relationship with Mallorie, too. As Nyco Drake was pulled closer to the city council, Mallorie was pulled closer to the resistance. They fought, and their fights were something to behold.

Their final argument came at age sixteen. Nyco Drake's father had died. Nyco Drake's own death was faked by the city council, and she was brought on. She found the entire experience degrading. She was wearing three-day-old clothing -- a grey t-shirt, covered in blood and grease and sweat, ripped black jeans, heavy eyeliner smeared across her eye-sockets, dark lipstick half-peeled off, and her stringy hair literally dripping grease.

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Nyco Drake quickly took over her father's network of spies and figured out his politics. She took very little time to realize that a large part of why he was killed was that he was not ruthless enough. Nyco Drake was ruthless, and she had learned to be a strategist, too. She made it her business to read through all of the Voclain family's secret accounts of the politics and the history of the city through the ages.

But she couldn't help but want to stay with Mallorie. She asked the resistance if she could spy for them. They said no. No, they couldn't have her as a spy because she had killed so many of them and had apparently murdeed her mother, their leaders. But more importantly, they said that would only be if they thought she were alive -- which they didn't. They for the most part then believed the city council's lies. Nyco Drake was quickly embittered by this and the resistance came to fill the absence of something to hate she'd felt since her mother's death. She vowed never to be so stupid and uninformed, so she read through all her mother's notes kn resistance politics and sent numerous spies in and made sure they were watching one another without realizing it. But still she wanted to stay with Mallorie, so she asked Mallorie to spy on the resistance for her. Her lover refused, and they never looked for each other again following the ensuing fight.

Nyco Drake hated her fellow city council members after very little time had passed. They were all older than she was and mostly men, and they all looked down on her. She had come from a positin of power and hated the way Titus, and Lucien, and Zeric, and Hornald, and the rest all looked at her despite how quickly she proved her own competence.

Her temper had never evened out, but it did become ice. Someone could piss her off and they would know it from the icy venom flying from her tongue, but she wouldn't murder them until it could serve some secondary purpose also. She killed a couple city council members -- Zeric Jansing being the first when she was eighteen and had been on the city council for two years already. It was satisfying, and she made sure to have fun with it, too. Obviously she keeps tabs on all the other members of the city council to see when or if it would be useful to murder them.

She took the position of not actually destroying the resistance despite her hatred of it. She had a greater understanding of it than many of her fellows did and a greater hatred, but she felt that it would be better to leave in it existence because then the citizens had a means of rebellion they already understood and could predict rather than create a new one. She is not, however, against controlling it and/or murdering numerous members of it. In fact, she is not even against an all-out war.

She became a major part of city council politics and had a major influence. She took out major resistance figures, and she came up with new ways to torment people who would disobey them, including tormenting their family members psychologically rather than physically.

Now, she is one of the more senior members of the city council, and she is still just as political and politically involved as ever, but she needs to continue her line and she has found pieces of information about her father that she had not expected. Her life? Well, it's about to change.

"Family? I have a father, and a line of ancestors to the beginning of the Council of Nine, but no family. And as far as I care, I have no mother."

Fᴀᴍɪʟʏ﹕:

>>Rosaline Emelia Tiovonen; mother; dead; (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]

>>Zorion Locke Voclain; father; dead; (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]

>> Finley Vienna Tiovonen; half-sister; 19; alive; Happy; (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)]; Jenn Proske

>> Christian Gavriil Voclain; half-brother; 23; alive; gabbu; (view spoiler)[ (hide spoiler)] ; Sebastian Stan