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Cнαяαcтєяѕ > ❈ ᴡᴏʀᴋsʜᴏᴘ

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message 1: by c.c. (last edited Oct 30, 2014 12:12AM) (new)

c.c. (utopiosphere)


                ᴡᴏʀᴋ ᴏɴ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴜɴғɪɴɪsʜᴇᴅ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀs ʜᴇʀᴇ.

 ᴏɴᴄᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ᴅᴏɴᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ғɪɴᴀʟ ᴡᴏʀᴋ
           ʜᴀs ʙᴇᴇɴ ᴘᴏsᴛᴇᴅ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʜᴀʀᴀᴄᴛᴇʀ ᴄʀᴇᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴛᴏᴘɪᴄs,
             ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴇʟᴇᴛᴇ ʏᴏᴜʀ ᴘᴏsᴛ ʜᴇʀᴇ sᴏ ᴀs
             ᴛᴏ ᴀᴠᴏɪᴅ sᴘᴀᴍᴍɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴏʙsᴇʀᴠᴇ ᴏʀɢᴀɴɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴘᴏsᴛs.

✖ Qᴜᴇᴇɴ ✖  (notonguewithbutt)
17; Female; Heterosexual; Species; Acrobat; Shatter Me

[ Renesmee Delavidge ]
ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇ "Nᴇssɪ" ↰
↳ personality

↳[ likes ] something; something; something
↳[ dislikes ] something; something; something
↳[ strengths ] something; something; something
↳[ weaknesses ] something; something; something

[ Ebba Zingmark ] Ginger; Baby Blue; 5'6; 100 lbs
ǫᴜᴏᴛᴇ ↲

appearance description



↳ ǫᴜᴏᴛᴇ
↳ father's name - age - status
↳ mother's name - age - status
↳ name - age - status
↳ ᴄᴏɴᴛɪɴᴜᴀʟ ǫᴜᴏᴛᴇ

message 3: by dyanne (last edited Nov 05, 2014 06:01AM) (new)

dyanne (view spoiler)

message 4: by tori (last edited Nov 03, 2014 01:44PM) (new)

tori | 2 comments
Tʜɪs Tᴇᴍᴘʟᴀᴛᴇ ɪs ʙʀᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʙʏ →ܫ← Aᴡᴋᴡᴀʀᴅ Pᴏᴛᴀᴛᴏ {Gʀʏғғɪɴᴅᴏʀ}.
© Aʟʟ Rɪɢʜᴛs Rᴇsᴇʀᴠᴇᴅ
(view spoiler)

message 5: by corina (last edited Nov 15, 2014 08:06AM) (new)

corina (molteneyes) | 60 comments

[ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ ] (view spoiler) || [ ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ɴᴏᴛᴇ ] (view spoiler)

•| Vᴇʀᴀ Eɪʀᴡᴇɴ Rᴏssʜᴀʟʟ |•

[ ᴠᴇʀᴀ ] "truth" [ ᴇɪʀᴡᴇɴ ] "white snow"
[ ᴀɢᴇ ] Seventeen [ ɢᴇɴᴅᴇʀ ] Female
[ sᴇxᴜᴀʟɪᴛʏ ] Heterosexual aromantic [ sᴛᴀᴛᴜs ] Unmarried
[ ʙɪʀᴛʜ ᴘʟᴀᴄᴇ ] London, England [ ᴇᴛʜɴɪᴄɪᴛʏ ] British, Welsh
[ sᴘᴇᴄɪᴇs ] Human [ ʀᴏʟᴇ ] Hunter

» Crystal Reed

Vera's dark brown hair, almost black, usually slightly curly and reaching her shoulder blades, perfectly complements her fair skin tone and dark green eyes.
Standing at 5'8" and weighing about 120 pounds, Vera is healthy and fit, her body muscular from intensive training.
Her features are wide and strong, lending her a stubborn but kind look, though that kindness is dependent entirely on one's species.
Years of training and hard fighting is evident by the scars that mark her body. Most are faded and white, but visible nonetheless. Only one marks her face, a thin white line on the underside of her jaw, invisible to the casual passerby.

Vera lives by one edict: her name. The last thing her mother gave her. Truth. But to Vera, it means more than just that. It means righteousness, the elimination of evil, peace, and a world in order, without anomalies or the unnatural crowding the streets, unseen and unknown. This is her life, this is her goal. The elimination of evil, for what else could these ungodly creatures be, these unnatural beings that kill because they can, and sometimes, because they need it. And it is not just the fact that Vera believes these creatures evil. She knows it. Why else is her father dead. Why else is she alone in the world, with a bloodthirsty cousin and an uncle who does not love, only works - only hunts. She is tired of hunting, but it is the only thing she knows how to do - the only thing she can do. Vera Eirwen Rosshall must kill her life's killer.

Vera is a paradox wrapped in an enigma. She constantly contradicts herself, simply by being herself. Ironically enough, Vera is an adept liar and actress, skilled at deception, pretending, and falsification. If she hadn't been raised as a hunter, she would have been an actress, striding the stage, Shakespearean verses flowing from her lips. Even despite her profession, she adores theatre and often quotes Shakespeare when annoyed or feeling particularly sarcastic. Which is rather often. Her tongue is as sharp as her blades, and Vera keeps both whetted on others. There are no friends to drive away anyways - who has time for friends? The closest she's ever had to a true friend is Olivia, her cousin. Livia, who believes, rightly so, that emotion is a liability and a danger.

Vera knows this better than anyone, better than Olivia perhaps. Vera's moods are wild unpredictable things. As in control as she seems on the outside, her insides are a mess, a constant tangle of ups and downs and highs and lows. Her skills at acting keep all of this tamped down and locked away, however. She has made rash, stupid decision because of this turmoil in her chest before, and every time she has vowed to kill that emotion, like Livia does. She can't, though. This is what Vera believes makes her human. If she killed her emotion, her ability to feel pain and guilt and love, she would see herself as no better than the creature she kills, because then she wouldn't have a reason to kill them. She would simply be homicidal.

[ sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜs ] Deception & acting ▫ All combat, especially throwing knives and archery ▫ Quick thinking ▫ Staying calm & in control under duress
[ ᴡᴇᴀᴋɴᴇssᴇs ] Emotional instability ▪ Her goal ▪ Talking of her family ▪ Book smarts
[ ʟɪᴋᴇs ] Weapons (sharp things in general) ▫ Being outside ▫ Activity ▫ Heights
[ ᴅɪsʟɪᴋᴇs ] Stupidity ▪ Being constricted ▪ Depending on others ▪ Supernaturals

Vera doesn't remember her mother. Sometimes, she can trick herself into believing that there is a memory of a feather soft touch on her cheek or quiet hands rocking her to sleep, but she knows it's all just wishful thinking. Ciara Rosshall died bringing Vera into the world, and for that, Vera will never forgive herself.

She never knew her father like everyone else claimed to have known him. Quentin had been loud and boisterous, a doting husband, a kind neighbor. Everyone whispered that it was Ciara's death and Vera's birth that changed that.

Vera doesn't know what to believe. So she believes what she knows: she lived her life with her father's sister's family: Callaghan and his wife and the two boys and Olivia, Vera's cousin. Livia and Vera were nearly inseparable, two young girls who were taught the types of things women weren't usually taught: to hunt. Along with Alvar and Julius, the two girls learned the family business. Fighting, hunting, the art of killing races that should never have walked the earth in the first place. The Rosshall family went way back; for ages they had killed supernaturals. And just when Quentin thought he was rid of it, by marrying Ciara, she died and left him unable to raise a daughter without the help of his sister's family, who still put great stock in the ages old tradition.

One morning, Quentin did not return from his night shift. He did not come back the next either. For a week, Vera waited, the Nadines there to comfort her. She was only six, after all. And when a month later he still had not returned, still had not been found, they gave up looking.

After that, Vera knew what she had to do. She had to find who had killed her father. It didn't matter that there were no signs - no body, no blood, no crime scene, no murder weapon - a retired hunter was never truly retired. There were always enemies. And so Vera trained harder than before. When Julius and Alvar and Livia climbed the apple tree, Vera threw knives at the apples before they could be picked.

And [#] years later, when Alvar and Julius and Aislin disappeared, Vera knew it was no coincidence. Olivia and Vera trained night and day now, and Callaghan just as much. But they never found trace of Quentin or Aislin or Alvar or Julius. It was as though they had dropped from the face of the earth. Years passed, years and years where Vera and Livia made the perfect killing machine: two women, rarely suspected, both as deadly as they come, one with the ruthlessness required and one with the deception required. They killed supernaturals, but never did they find the ones that had torn their families apart and pushed the two girls to be as close as sisters. And Callaghan left them alone.

It was a dare. Olivia mentioned a circus; Callaghan scowled. A supernatural circus, it seemed. One too dangerous for any less than ten hunters to go in for. Olivia's eyes narrowed, then she smirked. Later, she told Vera her idea. "I dare you to go in. Undercover. And kill one of the ringmasters." Vera's eyes narrowed back - and then a slow, wicked grin spread across her face. "And what do I get out of it?" Vera replied, but she was thinking about Quentin. About her father and Aislin and Julius and Alvar. This was her chance for information.

Eyes downcast, hands twisted in her lap. That was the way a nervous young women should act when applying for a job as a knife-thrower for a circus. When asked her species, she leaned forward, eyes darting side to side. "Nephilim," she whispered. A disgusting choice, but one of the least dangerous. A quick demonstration of her aim and abilities, and she was in. As easy as that. The lack of security in the circus was both appalling and a source of glee for Vera. She told Livia the news. And so it started, the largest tests of her ability to hide her hatred, to find her information, and to show Livia that killing a ringmaster? Nothing much for Vera Eirwen Rosshall.

➵ Quentin R. Rosshall || Father || Deceased
➵ Ciara L. Rosshall (née Amory) || Mother || Deceased
➵ Olivia H. Nadine || Cousin || Alive
➵ Callaghan J. Nadine || Uncle || Alive

message 6: by c.c. (last edited Nov 21, 2014 04:09AM) (new)

c.c. (utopiosphere)
(view spoiler)

message 7: by [deleted user] (last edited Jan 06, 2015 02:56AM) (new)

                                              ɪ ᴛʀɪᴇᴅ, ɪ ʟɪᴇᴅ, ɪ ᴅɪᴇᴅ

                                    ᴇʟᴇsᴛᴇ ᴍᴏᴋᴇ | ᴇᴄᴇ | ᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ʜʀᴇᴇ

                               ᴇᴛᴇʀᴏsᴇxᴜᴀʟ | ᴠᴀɪʟᴀʙʟᴇ | ᴇᴀᴘᴇʀ | ᴇᴄᴇᴀsᴇᴅ

                            ᴀᴜsᴇ ᴏғ ᴇᴀᴛʜ; ʜᴏᴛ | ᴜʀᴅᴇʀᴇᴅ | ᴜɴᴇʀᴀʟ

(view spoiler)

Celeste, on first glance, looks like an emotionless woman but on closer inspection she is just depressed. Her eyebrows are tilted downwards, her eyes have a blank stare but you can still see the pain reflected and her mouth is tilted downwards slightly.
Her body is nothing magnificent. She's quite skinny and small. Standing at 5'5 and weighing 60 kg - slightly underweight for a woman her age - but ten again, she's dead so she doesn't really give a damn anymore.
Celeste's style is also quite dark, making her look more sickly and dead. She usually wears black funeral dresses, some with frills and some without. And her boots are old and are starting to get worn out.(view spoiler)

                 I ᴡɪsʜ I ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ ᴛᴜʀɴ ʙᴀᴄᴋ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʟᴏᴄᴋ.

Celeste was once a compassionate, kind and loving young woman. She could always bring happiness wherever she went because her smile was radiant as the sun. She was the type of woman one could meet on the street and have a conversation with, maybe even have a cup of tea. Not anymore. The woman is sad, angry and always guilt ridden. There is no chance of conversation with her, for she is quiet and timid - not at all lively like she had been. It seems Celeste dampens the mood in a place full of happy people.

Most adults would see her as she is- sad, angry, depressed, but not children. They see Celeste for who she used to be. Children have a better imagination than adults and so can see past the thick layer of death that surrounds Celeste and can see her true self, but Celeste is dead to say the least and can not be brought back. Many times she has wanted to leave the seats of the circus, but she can't for there will be many upcoming deaths - and she must be there to claim the souls.

                 ʜᴀs ɴᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ᴛᴏʟᴅ ʏᴏᴜ? ʟɪғᴇ ɪsɴ·ᴛ ғᴀɪʀ.

message 8: by georgiabread (last edited Jan 08, 2015 02:24AM) (new)

georgiabread | 15 comments (view spoiler)


|First Name| Cora
Pronunciation and meaning: [Core-RAH] The name Cora originates from Greece, meaning ‘maiden’.
|Middle Name| Emmeline
Pronunciation and meaning: [Emma-LYNE] Emmeline is the French form of the German name Amelina. Emmeline means ‘work’.
|Last Name| Phillips
Pronunciation and meaning: [FILL-ipps] An English, North German, Jewish and Dutch surname; a variation of the name Phillip


|Age| 17
|Gender| Female
|Sexual Orientation| Heterosexual
|Birthday| 19th of March
|Star Sign| Pisces
|Species| Fallen star


(view spoiler)
Face claim: Jasmine van den Bogaerde (Birdy)
Hair: Chocolate brown, curly, reaching her ribs
Eyes: Wide, silvery
Skin: Pale; faint freckles on her cheeks
Height: 5’4 (162 cm)
Weight: 114 lbs (51 kg)


|Personality| Cora is kind, compassionate. She hates seeing people hurt. She cares for people. She’s always focused, determined to do her best and tries hard to never give up. But sometimes that determination goes a bit far. Cora is stubborn. She can have a temper, if people get on her nerves too much.

Despite her flaws, Cora loves to adventure. She’s an independent girl and hates to be ordered around, but somewhat hates being alone. She doesn’t like being alone in the world; she wants someone to love her, to comfort her, someone for her to turn to if things get bad; someone to love, someone who loves her in return, whether it be a family member, a friend or a lover.

Likes: music • nighttime • sketching • stargazing • trees
Dislikes: arrogance • liars • restrictions • separation • sunlight
Strengths: • independence • loyalty • playing the piano • recognises others’ emotions • using the trapeze
Weaknesses: afraid of rejection • claustrophobia • inexperienced with earth • stubbornness • too hard-working
Special abilities: advanced eyesight • flight • manipulation of the constellations


|History| One night, a girl was born a star. She had no family. There was no one to comfort her; no one to love her. She could only sit in the night sky as life passed by, as the stars around her continued to fall into earth. There was a myth that was passed between the stars; a myth that tells of a child’s wish drawing a star from its home.

“Children on earth…they sit at their windowsill and stare into the night. They whisper their wishes to the brightest star they can find. And slowly, slowly that star falls, plummeting towards earth, a sacrifice for a child’s wish.”

The girl was 14 when a child wished upon her. She heard the child’s voice, a quiet little girl’s. “I wish,” she whispered, “that Mamma will sew up Dolly and that Dolly with be alright.” And then the girl was falling, tumbling towards that strange planet, flames bursting to life around her body. She had seen many stars crash into the earth as they took human form, killed instantly. But the girl was lucky; she plunged into a large lake and lay on its floor for hours. But miraculously she survived; she heaved herself onto the shore with no clothes to cover her. She was discovered the next day by Isabelle Phillips, who had approached the lake to wash her clothes. Isabelle saw the girl, limp, pale and naked on the grass, and rushed forward. She asked no questions, only provided her with clothes and a loaf of bread. Isabelle rubbed her up until she was warm enough; the girl could never have been more grateful. It seemed humans were kinder than she thought.

The girl lived with Isabelle’s husband and child, Tristen, for the following three years. Isabelle and her husband, Thomas, always made her feel like one of the family. They even named her: Cora Emmeline Phillips, after Isabelle’s great grandmother. Cora had explained how she was a star that had fallen from the sky; the family didn’t understand, but that didn’t mar their care for her. It was only when Cora discovered she had wings at the same age of 14 when the family believed her. They were unsure at first, but eventually accepted her.

As for Tristen, he was a year older than Cora. They became fast friends and did everything together. But secretly, Cora always had a spark of electricity run through her every time they laughed together or smiled at each other. And she found herself growing warm in her cheeks whenever he complemented her. You see, she didn’t know the feeling of love. She had never felt it. But when Tristen finally admitted he had always liked her, when Cora was 16, she finally understood.

Then Isabelle grew ill. She became weaker each day, but still tried to be brave and carry on with life. But then came the day of her death. She lay on her deathbed, her family around her, whispering a few words to each. She spoke to Cora last.

“Cora, my dear…just remember…for the rest of your life, I love you and will always be with you. No matter…what people think of you…you’ll always be special. You have a gift, Cora. You have many gifts; not just your wings, or your ability to control the stars…but your kindness and generosity, your cheerful spirit. That’s what makes you unique…”

Three months after Isabelle’s death, Tristen told his friends that Cora was a fallen star. They laughed and spread it around Causha Amore, and soon Cora was an outcast. That was the first time she had experience betrayal, and from then on she hated Tristen. He tried to apologise but Cora knew it had all been a lie. She was rejected by the village; she wasn’t welcome. People called her a menace, a witch. Some claimed she was truly a fallen angel. Some thought she was a demon. Cora was cast from the village, filled with grief and betrayal and hatred. Then she heard of Cirque de Moreau; it was the only place she thought was welcome. And so Cora fled to the circus. It is her own family now.


Adoptive mother: Isabelle Phillips {fate: deceased, aged 45}
Adoptive father: Thomas Phillips {fate: deceased, aged 49}
Adoptive siblings: Tristen Phillips {fate: presumed alive, aged 18}


Friends: Tristen Phillips
Enemies: N/A
Crush: N/A
Relationship Status: Single


|Weapons| Cora uses her wings as a weapon, but also owns a pocket knife.
|Pets| Cora has a tamed Northern saw-whet owl by the name of Zelda.
(view spoiler)
|Other| Cora has a pair of white, sparkling wings she can conceal or summon at her command.


message 9: by [deleted user] (new)

♛I Aᴍ Tʜᴇ Qᴜᴇᴇɴ♛ wrote: "

17; Female; Heterosexual; Species; Acrobat; Shatter Me

[ Renesmee Delavidge ]
↳ ᴄᴀʟʟ ᴍᴇ "Nᴇssɪ" ↰
↳ personality

↳[ likes ] something; something; something
↳[ dislikes ]..."

I claim Ebba Zingmark as a facial claim already >~<

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❈ Cɪʀϙᴜᴇ ᴅᴇ Mᴏʀᴇᴀᴜ ❈「ᶳᵉᵐᶤ⁻ᵃᵈᵛᵃᶰᶜᵉᵈ ʳᵒˡᵉᵖˡᵃʸ」

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