Character storage discussion

There's either gonna be a lot of repeats, and redos. I'm considering organizing by group, but I'll probably remember on my own.

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Name: Adela Frances Arrington
» Alias: Del, Fran
* Adela means noble. Frances means free man.

Gender: Female [ xx chromosome ]

Race: Human

Social Stratum: Highborn ; Duchess
» Residency: Cerimbor

Age: Twenty-One [ 21 ]

Personality: Adela is a being that most have difficulty figuring out. One moment she can be the most innocent creature, the next she's making the cruelest of decisions. No one who has ever really seen her in the true workings of her mind can tell you that even they know what they're seeing. It's somewhat as if she has been born into the wrong station, as if she would do better as a tyrant. It's frightening, especially to see it in such a young woman. Some tend to ignore the fact that she could be a villain in the making when they see the way she daydreams, but they can only guess at what she longs for.

Her station only gives her so much superiority, and her gender does nothing to help. Adela is quite unhappy with this, what with the regal feel she believes she possesses. It's such a shame, in her opinion, that she isn't in a higher station. She has to contend with butt-kissing and petty alliances to really hold any sort of power, and she despises it. One can only give respect to those who have earned it, and most of her peers have done nothing but inherit vast amounts of wealth to be where they are. You can see where her displeasure comes from, as she has to contend with the reputation of doing nothing to get somewhere in her class of nobility.

[ trait 1 ] enigmatic
[ trait 2 ] cruel
[ trait 3 ] wistful
[ trait 4 ] vain
[ trait 5 ] ambitious


Appearance:

Height: 5'2 1/2"
Weight: 156 lbs
Hair: platinum/sandy blonde ; past shoulder length
Skin: lightly tanned
Eyes: hazy blue and green pale violet
Body type: slender
Pitch of voice: alto ; dreamy
Distinguishable markings:
Apparel, dress, and colors: On a day to day basis, Adela is herded into dresses of blues, violets, and greens of the lightest shades. Should the colors be dark, they are more likely to be red and black. The pale coloring suggests a delicacy that overlays the heinous thoughts of ruling beneath the skin, as her mother had suggested. Said delicacy is continued in fine jewelry of simple but elegant tastes. Most days, Adela can hardly move without hearing some sort of tinkling. When she goes without jewelry, she also goes without extravagant dresses with corsets that bite into her sides. Instead, she sports tunics and riding pants on those days of relaxation.

Weakness(es):
[ strength ] Adela has a frail body, and has been known to fall into sickness since the time of her birth. It is no surprise that she can hardly put up a fight physically, which is why most of her warring is via words.
[ gender roles ] Adela is similar to Lady Macbeth of Shakespeare's Macbeth. She's placed in a body with a gender that doesn't really suit her ambitions, and can't do much about it. When she marries, to whomever it may be, she'll likely find some way to manipulate them. For now, she's stuck listening to the "suggestions" of her parents and decrees of the land.
[ friendship ] Adela doesn't play well with others to begin with, so a friend is a luxury she has never truly had. She doesn't believe her servants to be friends, but pawns in her game of chess. She'd prefer to use them to pass messages to play "pranks" on her younger brother, which could sometimes be fatal. So, she sees people to be used, not befriended. Maybe she may see different some day.

Strength(s):
[ manipulation ] While Adela may not be able to physically force you into something, she can sure as hell manipulate you into doing it. She can make it so that you think you've thought of this glorious idea yourself, when really she did it for you. She's had years to practice, as she has used her skills on her parents to get close to everything she's ever wanted, and then some.
[ cruelty ] Think of the most intimate cruelty that could be directed at you, and you have something of what Adela can actuate upon you. Yes, she can very cruel, even with people who might see her as a friend. Because, everyone is fair game to her cruelty. Pawns, remember.
[ strategy ] Adela has big plans for herself, and those plans are so very carefully made. They're fragile glass birds in a cage that could teeter and fall over at any moment, so they must be made carefully. This takes a certain amount of skill that can be found only in most generals, and somehow made its way into the body of a noble woman.

Biography/History: The world is beneath Adela, in her opinion. She wants to rule the stars above as well, but she has quite a way to go. Of course, she's come a long way from a fragile little girl.

Before her birth, her mother had fallen ill with a passing sickness. Most thought that this was the reason behind her frail body, having been deprived of the needed nourishment when her mother had gone through her bout of sickness. She spent years in bed, hacking and gasping for breath. The first time she was allowed outside was when she was seven years old. She could do no more than watch as the knights under her father paraded around for her. It did little to amuse her, and she would later be taunted by children of the servants when the adults were not around. These were moments when she had her darkest thoughts. She was surprised, and delighted, with how easily images of hangings and burning came to her.

When she was sixteen, she saw the king and queen for the first time. Her mother and father had been invited to a banquet being held, and had taken she and her younger brother. She hated the child with a passion, knowing that he was the reason behind her not taking over the land when her parents passed on. Had she been married already, she would likely have hated her husband. Getting back to the banquet, she realized how much she wanted to be on the throne. It seemed so glamorous, so perfect. It was something she wanted greatly, and then there was the added bonus of power. It was this moment that set into motion her obsession with becoming more powerful.

Three years later, she happened to be forced into a "friendship" with another noble girl. It was suffice to say that Adela didn't much care for the girl. She would prefer to read while the girl tittered away about useless gossip. So, one day, she got into her head setting the auburn hair of the girl on fire. It was mostly just her glaring fiercely at the hopelessly oblivious girl, imagining the scene with strained precision, every detail filling her senses. Then, it actually filled her senses. She could smell the roasting fibers as they burned, and hear the girl beginning to scream. She sat, astonished, as the maids scurried in and dowsed the girl with water. She sat that way through the endless ranting, raving, whining, and complaining of the girl until she was forced to leave.

She had to tweak her plans a bit, but it was no matter.

Relation(s):
» Deran Arrington - Human ; 50 ; Duke ; father
» Tia Arrington - Human ; 42 ; Duchess ; mother
» Theo Arrington - Human ; 14 ; Duke-To-Be ; younger brother


Weapon(s): She believes that she has no need for weapons, and vowed to not carry any unless she is absolutely forced to.

Fighting Skill(s): As a royal, her parents believed that she had no need to learn to fight. She has protection in the case that she should be caught in a situation of danger.

Magic: The only thing she is aware of being able to do is light things aflame. It suits her just well, at any rate.

Other: There were several occasions in which she was questioned by others on her obsession with power. She'd simply smile and say, "Everybody wants to rule the world."

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ɪ ᴋɴᴏᴡ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ᴛᴀᴋᴇs ᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ｓｃｒｅａｍ

▄▄ ʟᴏᴜᴅᴇʀ, ʟᴏᴜᴅᴇʀ ↳ ＮＯＩＲ ＤＥＬＡＣＯＲＴＥ ↲ ᴊᴜsᴛ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ, ᴍᴇ ▄
↱ ɴɪɴᴇᴛᴇᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀs ʏᴏᴜɴɢ // ᴏʟᴅ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛ // ᴍᴀʟᴇ // ʜᴇᴛᴇʀᴏ // ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ↰

There's something very strange about Noir Delacorte, as strange as night and day, like two sides of a coin. During the day, he doesn't look like a deranged participant. He appears to be just like everyone else: a little tired, but cheerful. His hair, a dark brown, is usually in a way that is easily messed up by his erratic motions.He also has a tendency to dowse himself in water and look hella sexy. His eyes are a matching shade of brown, and are usually full of cheer and laughter. His most distinguishable of features, aside from constellations of moles, are his lips. Plush, pink, delectable lips.

At night, it gets pretty real. He tends to look a lot like what he really is: the sleep deprived dangerous person he is. He also seems to be a bit more precise in his movements, more well planned. With that in mind, he's a lot more put together, unless agitated. His lips are cracked, mostly due to the fact that he tends to be rather sickly and clammy. His hair is usually matted to his forehead, sometimes sweat or other times blood. He still has that tendency to look hella sexy, even when drenched in blood and/or water. The eyes have it though. They seem more like an obsidian black than anything else. It's like his soul has been sucked right out them, that's how empty they are.

▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ❝ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ɢᴏ ᴏᴜᴛ ｔｏｎｉｇｈｔ ❞ ▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄

↳ ᴅʏʟᴀɴ ᴏ'ʙʀɪᴇɴ - ғɪᴠᴇ ғᴛ ᴛᴇɴ - 176 ʟʙs - ᴛᴇɴᴏʀ ; ʙʀᴇᴀᴛʜʏ - ʙʀᴏᴡɴ ᴇʏᴇs/ʜᴀɪʀ ↲

You could say that the tests did a real number on him, they did. So, now he's split between day and night, life and death. and hella sexy wet scenes because water. His voice has a breathy quality to it, a sensual resonance. It could be what lures his victims to him, half way to sleep and hearing something pleasant. It's like Alice following the White Rabbit, only death is the rabbit hole.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ sᴏᴍᴇᴛɪᴍᴇs ᴛʜᴇʏ sᴀʏ ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʀᴇᴘᴇᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ｐａｓｔ

▄▄▄ ᴛʜᴇɴ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍᴇᴀɴs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ↳ ｓｈｅ ↲ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ʀɪɢʜᴛ ʙᴇsɪᴅᴇ ᴍᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪɴ ▄▄▄

Let's hear a story; stories are fun. Only, this one isn't as fun as everyone would want it to be. Once upon a time there was a boy named Noir Thebes Delacorte. He grew up in a happy home, with little financial worries. That is, of course, until his father ran off with him and another woman. A heart attack later and his step mother was eating his inheritance like there was no fucking tomorrow. Paris, the city of his birth, just didn't seem the same.

Five years later, and Noir was turning seventeen on July ninth. It was also the day he got a strange email. Now, he'd happened to come into a bit of monetary trouble, considering his step mother's lavish tastes. In all honesty, he likely would have been out on the street if he hadn't been getting a serious income already. Trust fund babies, yeah. He signed on, thinking it would give him enough money to fill his draining trust fund and get him out of his step mother's palm.

Like any teenager, freedom is something Noir longed for. Stepping into that freezing tundra of a facility was like traveling half way around the world. Well, they actually did travel half way around the world, but that was not the point. What mattered was that he was free. What also mattered was that he was in a group with girls as well. He'd always been pretty awkward, and watching the brunette that seemed to enjoy taking charge go to work only seemed to bring that out further.

It was the second week that he made a move, and was surprised that she promised him a real date when they got out. So, that's what started a budding romance between Noir and Hadley. You see, Hadley hailed from Brooklyn, New York. New York is rather a nice place, from Noir perspective. The two of them got close.

And then she died. One of the past participants got to her.

It had been the last day, and he would have gotten that date. He watched as he stabbed her relentlessly, even after she was dead. He stared at the way the knife just went in and out, in and out, in and out of her chest. Then he moved to her face, and Noir snapped. It was a blurry moment, but he only realized that he'd killed a person until he was soaking in blood. A part of him died that night with Hadley, while he held her. At some point he blacked out, and when he woke up both bodies were gone.

Noir left the facility changed. His stepmother was terrified by him, and his birth mother cursed him like there was no tomorrow. Probably because he broke her arm when she tried to talk to him. Then sprained her ankle. And ran her cat over when she invited him over. Good times, good times.

So, he came back to the killing fields, and hasn't left since.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ʏᴏᴜ ᴋɴᴏᴡ, ɪᴛ's ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴍᴏʀᴇ ғᴜɴ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ｒｕｎ

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄ sᴏ ғᴜᴄᴋɪɴɢ ʀᴜɴ

( character created by Fiend ) [ template inspired by Baa and Jenn ]

❝ the way that you ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ can't help but move ❞

[ ＥＢＥＬＥ ＡＢＥＮＡ ＢＡＨ ]

( Meaning ) mercy/kindness ; born on a Tuesday ; unexplained
( pronunciation ) ee-bel ; ah-behn-ah ; bah
( pseudonym ) Abe

( Age ) 16
( birthday ) april eighth [ 4/8 ]
( Gender ) Female [ xx chromosome ]
( sexuality ) pansexual
( relationship status ) open

( City of Birth ) Grand Getah County, Liberia
( ethnicity ) Liberian

❝ appearance ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ashley moore ❞

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Abe has a pretty light complexion, despite spending hours toiling away in a field. She doesn't give off the usual African vibes, if she could see that there is one, and she fits right in with the crowd, in all honesty. Well, that is until she'll ask you who Justin Bieber is.

( Stature ) 5'3" ; 167 lbs
( body type ) pear; curvy

( Facial ) heart shaped; mocha
( eyes ) hazel
( hair ) walnut brown/light brown highlights ; curly to the max
( vocals ) alto ; raspy ; accented
( markings ) A scar on her hip

❝ personality ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ watch me do my ❞

( innocent ) pure
Speaking in both a physical and mental sense, Abe is pretty innocent. Dirty jokes usually fly right over her head, and she can pretty straightforward in certain subjects. Yes, she's well aware of some things, she just doesn't get the jokes that most people like to make about it. Some things are just the way they are, and she doesn't see the corrupted parts that every seems to find so humorous.

( curious ) eager to learn
New things intrigue Abe. The more she learns, the more she wants to know. It's sorta teeters on the phrase "curiosity killed the cat," only this cat has been hunting several times. With sharp, pointy objects. And has skinned a few animals in her day. Yeah. Still, she can get into some dangerous situations all because she wanted to know more.

( superstitious ) influenced by superstition
Abe grew up in an environment where myths and the like were passed around like you were passing out gum to your friends. She managed to become a sufficiently superstitious person, considering where she came from. She's not a big fan of horror, either, and usually opts out of those sort of things. It's not uncommon to see her going through the motions of some obscure ritual to remove a spirit or protect herself from whatever she thinks is out there. Chances are, if you managed to get her to watch Harry Potter, she'd obey the rule of not saying Voldemort's name, and most likely duct tape anyone who says it's mouth shut. Strange, but true.

( diligent ) constant in effort to accomplish something
In Abe's mind, hard work goes a long way, and staying on the course goes even further. She believes that if you set a goal, you have to see it through. it gets to the point that nothing else really seems to matter if she can get to it. If she has to go back to the drawing board to get it done, she will do so without hesitation.

( considerate ) showing kindly awareness of another's feelings
Working in a restaurant pays off in this regard. She often had to deal with customers in some seriously horrible moods, or those that were slightly too happy. To combat that, she's developed a sort of skill. She knows when to leave someone be or to stop talking, or when to egg someone into conversation.

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ ᴊᴜsᴛ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
❝ ʜᴇᴀᴅ, sʜᴏᴜʟᴅᴇʀs, ᴋɴᴇᴇs, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛᴏᴇs; ɴᴏᴡ ғʀᴇᴇᴢᴇ! ᴀᴢᴏɴᴛᴏ! ❞
▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ sᴀʏ ʜᴇʟʟᴏ, ʟᴏ, ʟᴏ ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬
♠ █ Lɪᴋᴇs dancing, music, food, new things
♠ █ Dɪsʟɪᴋᴇs overly sweet foods, energy drinks, coffee
♠ █ Sᴛʀᴇɴɢᴛʜs stamina, concentration
♠ █ Wᴇᴀᴋɴᴇssᴇs pop culture, English
♠ █ Bɪɢɢᴇsᴛ ғᴇᴀʀ being sent home
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔

❝ if we do the unthinkable ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ or would it be so beautiful ❞

↷ ｉｆ ｙｏｕ ａｓｋ ｍｅ

Ori Caroon had never set foot in a place other than the city in her life. It shocked everyone when she decided to join the Peace Corp, and that she would be taken to a country just recovering from two civil wars. Most people were concerned for her safety, as well as her health. They frightened her with horror stories of diseases and animal attacks to second guess her decision, but she held fast.

Three weeks later and she was crying on the phone with her mother, discussing her horrendous life choice and how much she wanted to come home. The few friends she had managed to make had been moved to other areas, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to be here alone. She felt unprepared for everything that she thought she'd be seeing, and versus reality, it had nothing what she was actually seeing.

She'd had no intentions of ending up in the restaurant that she did, or meeting Solomon Bah. He'd been her waiter that first time, and the many times after. She felt comfortable around him, like he had some vague understanding of what the change in locale had been for her. Turns out that he'd studied in America, after being sent away just before the start of the first war. So, Solomon could understand the culture shock she was going through.

After her term in the Peace Corp. ended, she returned to the small restaurant with the news. It was then that Solomon asked her to marry him.

↳ ᴍᴏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏғ ʜᴏɴᴇsᴛʏ, sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ's ɢᴏᴛᴛᴀ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ᴛʜᴇ ʟᴇᴀᴅ ᴛᴏɴɪɢʜᴛ ↲

Ori's family had flown over for the special occasion that turned into a nightmare. One minute the monitors were beeping perfectly fine, the next the power was out and there was blood. How does one explain that? Explain that the mother of the unborn child was hemorrhaging and would likely die in this labor? There's no way to explain so that the family wouldn't grieve.

They delivered a screaming baby girl in the dark, and watched the mother breathe her last breath in naming her.

↷ ｗｏｒｓｔ ｂｅｈａｖｉｏｒ

For a very long time, Abe blamed herself for being born. She thought that it was her fault that her mother was dead. If she hadn't gone into labor when she did, it might not have been during a blackout. So, she began to lash out in childish tantrums and shirking her work in the restaurant to sit with the old women in the village. From that came her introduction to the many folktales and myths that had been passed down for generations.

The village used to hold festivals for these tales, filled with magic tricks, shows, and dancing. It entranced her, and she found herself getting into the flow of it. She found her seat in the front row, having moved from the back with the rest of the children. Pretty soon, she was being pulled into the performance, thrown between the two dancers on stilts. While her father spent most of the time freaking out before realizing she was fine, she spent her time learning from what she saw.

Of course, she put what she learned into practice all throughout the restaurant. This meant there was a larger number of broken dishes, food spillage, and a few black eyes from badly placed leg lifts. Keeping up with the damage was never impossible for Solomon, so he went looking for places that would do her more good than to keep her there in the small home. In the mean time, she was an avid dancer for the village festivals. She discovered a certain flexibility that she had never really elaborated on, which was rather interesting. Most of the elders found it incredibly ominous that she could bend that way, truth be told.

↳ ᴡʜᴏ's ʜᴏᴛ, ᴡʜᴏ ɴᴏᴛ, ᴛᴇʟʟ ᴍᴇ ᴡʜᴏ ʀᴏᴄᴋs , ᴡʜᴏ sᴇʟʟ ᴏᴜᴛ ↲

Abe had never known she could bend that way. In all honesty, she was trying to think of something new to do during the festival. A snake charmer had come in, and she'd been watching him. She sort of just...bent. She may or may not have freaked a few people out; she couldn't quite hear over the shouting of the charmer.

It took about a half hour to get her back into a proper standing position. When the whole ordeal was over, she realized that there was something more that she could do. It was rather cool, in her opinion. She took to practicing, and giving multiple heart attacks.

↷ ｌｉｋｅ Ｉ'ｍ ｂｌａｚｉｎ'

It took her father a while, but he found the perfect school for Abe to practice her talents without utterly destroying the kitchen and killing off all the elders. AAAA seemed like the best place for her, despite it being so far away. It was like he was giving her away, in a sense. She didn't mind it much, though.

( Family )

( mother ) Ori Bah
( father ) Solomon Bah

( Department ) Bellavia
( grade ) sophomore
( emphasis ) dancing
( minor ) contortion

❝ I fly high like ▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬

▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬ I dare you, Bambi ❞

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄ ɪ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴡᴀᴛᴄʜɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ｂｌｅｅｄ

▄▄ ᴅʀɪᴘ-ᴅʀᴏᴘ, ᴅʀɪᴘ-ᴅʀᴏᴘ ↳ ＡＤＥＬＡ ＭＥＲＡＫ ↲ ʀᴏᴜɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄʟᴏᴄᴋ ▄▄
↱ ᴇɪɢʜᴛᴇᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀs ʏᴏᴜɴɢ -- ɴᴇᴡ ᴘᴀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛ -- ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ -- ᴘᴀɴsᴇxᴜᴀʟ -- ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ↰

For most, Adela is the picture of innocence. She's all tender and freckled, slender and sweet. She's the kind of girl, in appearance, that most guys would want to take under their wing and protect. She seems helpless and afraid, unsure of what to do next. Her rust colored hair acts almost like it were one gigantic tail, mostly propelled by her hands and movements. Her eyes, a nice plain brown that would make no one suspect a thing, are usually alight with curiosity and glee. But, the real deception is her appearance all itself. Those delicate features are the wool that the wolf wears to be a sheep.

When you've managed to do something to attract her attention in a negative way, one must be careful. All the childish antics are gone and there's a perverse sort of seduction that takes place. Her steps become more matured and calculated, even the slightest of movements attributing to her actual age. She's a blood splattered vixen in the skin of a teenager, in a sense. The innocent covering all but fades away, giving in to a monster of a different kind.

▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ᴄᴀᴛᴄʜ ᴛʜᴇᴍ ᴀɴᴅ ｋｉｌｌ ｔｈｅｍ
↱ ↲
↳ ᴅᴀʀɪᴀ sɪᴅᴏʀᴄʜᴜᴋ - 5'3" - 167 ʟʙs - ɢɪɴɢᴇʀ - ʙʀᴏᴡɴ - sᴏᴘʀᴀɴᴏ ; ᴄʜɪʟᴅʟɪᴋᴇ ↲

Adela's voice is usually full of peals of laughter, ringing out in a noticeable way. Her words slur together in an endearing manner, and full of wonder. It's the voice of innocence, if one were to look at that way. However, it does a compete 180 when Adela feels it the need to instigate something, or before she takes someone's life. It's full of a concealed hatred, wonder replaced with a surprising desperation. She does well in toying with people, especially when they can see her lips moving.

▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄ sᴏᴍᴇ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴏғᴛᴇɴ sᴏ ɪɴᴛʀɪɢᴜᴇᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇɪʀ ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ

▄▄ ᴍᴀʏʙᴇ ᴛʜᴇʏ sʜᴏᴜʟᴅ ғᴏᴄᴜs ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ↳ ｆｕｔｕｒｅ ↲ ɪғ ᴛʜᴇʏ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴏɴᴇ ▄

Born on a cold December night, one that no one seems to remember exactly, Adela was cast out. She wasn't a boy, as her parents had hoped, so there was no clear use for her. With that being said, they tossed her into the cold streets and went about their life. What they hadn't counted on was the huddled figure drenched in red that passed by her, stopping to stare at her screaming form in the snow. Nor did anyone expect him to lift the baby and take it with him.

Belvadeere Merak was a sick man. His victims found out too late, and his adopted daughter of three never realized. He taught her a certain way of living that meant that all other lives, save his, were expendable. They were building blocks for a greater cause: her triumph. There would be no reason to care for someone other than him, and Adela learned this quick. She never bothered to ask about her mother, or why the dark haired man didn't look like her. She just accepted the fact that he was all she had.

He trained her fairly well in the ways of deception, and murder. In all honesty, he'd admit that she grew to be better at than he. That is, if dead men could talk. The police came after them when she was ten, and it was the night he died. They'd just finished off a family, and were eating the meal they'd interrupted when a knock sounded at the door. Belvadeere sent her running seconds later, and gunshots rang out into the night. It had meant to be a simple celebration of ten years of life, and it had ended with the death of her "father".

She learned a few days later that older men seemed to like fragile little girls over the busty broads that usually walked the streets. She took advantage of this with ease, always looking forward to the money that would feed her. She had no time to worry about losing something important when she did this. Her habits evolved over the next two years, and her customers began to turn up dead. When she realized that she might be leaving a trail, she decided to cut herself off from it for a while.

It took her only two years to crack, or "cool down" as a profiler might have said. She was at it again, slaughter her customers after their third time with her. She went by a plethora of names, and only those stupid enough to keep coming back actually did. She made a name for herself, er, names, and was quite satisfied. She took two more years off, and then resumed her cycle. It was a ever ending circle of life and death, when everyone was at peace. It only got intense when they realized that the sweet little girl down the road wasn't as sweet as she seemed.

At seventeen, when she was to start her appointed cycle again, she was almost caught. She'd come too close to the police, and had actually been cuffed, but had somehow managed to strangle the officer who'd been undercover. She went into hiding, mostly pick-pocketing for food money. Actual sleeping arrangements didn't matter, as she'd developed a system for sleep through breaking into cars.

It was when she was checking her email at an internet cafe that she found the email. Science had always been intriguing to Adela, at least the biology parts when she had to look at anatomy and the methods of dissection. What got her attention most was the information on pardons. She needed that, if she was going to make it.

So she signed up.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄ ▄ ɪ ᴘʟᴜᴄᴋ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ｅｙｅｓ

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ᴛᴏ sᴀᴠᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ sᴜʀᴘʀɪsᴇ

Name: Amadeus Gilgamesh Andreus
» Alias: Ama

Gender: Male
» Sexuality: Pansexual

Species: Elf
» Type: Lythari (Ly-Tel'Quessir)

Social Stratum: Dominant Wolf; Bodyguard

Age: 217
» Date of Birth: January 3

Personality: Ama takes his job very seriously, a little too much if you were to ask a few people. He has his own way of overdoing things, like protecting his Alpha for example. The same methods, however, apply to protecting his family. The only problem is that he can be a bit dense to just how far he's taking the whole protecting thing at times. If he's informed of this, he usually just laughs it off, apologizes, and moves on. He doesn't dwell much on things, unless it's a failure of some kind. Otherwise, most issues bounce off of him. He does, though, have a bad habit of thinking on past mistakes from time to time. It's not to scold himself, but more so to learn from it. It just often affects his mood more than he would like, or what others would like. There isn't much that you can hide from Ama. Secrets, objects, and even words have no real safe place, not with Ama around. He has a knack for observation, and anything out of place doesn't go unnoticed. He guesses that's why so many of the young ones come looking for him when it comes time to play hide and seek; even the best hiding spot is no match for him. Of course, he only partakes in any of those games because he has a soft spot for children. It's one of few, as he will attest, and has trouble saying no to them. So, he will usually find himself being recruited for one game or another without much protest.
[ Trait 1 ] Overprotective
[ Trait 2 ] Resilient
[ Trait 3 ] Meditative
[ Trait 4 ] Observant
[ Trait 5 ] Fatherly

Appearance:

Height: 5'6"
Weight: 210lbs
Hair: raven black; silver highlights
Skin: light ebony
Eyes: chocolate brown
Body type: lean; muscular
Pitch of voice: tenor; soft; expressive
Distinguishable markings: In his line of work Amadeus has received quite a few scars. Those are pretty much the only distinguishing marks he has.

Weakness(es): Children are a known weakness for Amadeus, as he tends to have a certain soft spot for them. Over thinking things will be the death of Amadeus, as he often returns to past issues, even when it's not the most convenient of times. Family is both a strength and a weakness for Amadeus. They give him a reason to work hard, but could also be the downfall of him if he were to lose them.

Strength(s): Amadeus is a fairly caring person, and people are easily drawn to that in positive ways. Archery has always been his best mode of combat. He excels at it, and is considered one of the best, but not in his own opinion.

Biography/History: Amadeus' past has always been a swirling mystery, even for him. There are moments that are missing, as if he had blocked it out. He has no way of explaining, and neither has his family. They do believe that it might just be his way of coping with certain things. Amadeus came from humble beginnings, though he has little memory of it. There was talk that he was born among a family of farmers, but that they'd been decimated by humans. People seem to think that he was adopted by his current family, and it has been rather widely accepted as the truth. His mother, Sage, had been in the fields when she found him, or so the story goes, swaddled in cloth. There were no second thoughts as she carried him home to her husband, where he was given a name and treated as their own. He came into the service of Lady Sorinth four years ago, showing a great amount of potential, and seemed to get himself in her good graces.

Relation(s):
» Vynissa Kyrn Sorinth - Lythari; Alpha; 298
» Sage Andreus - Lythari; Adopted Mother; 329
» Leopold Andreus - Lythari; Adopted Father; 354
» Kyah Andreus - Lythari; Adopted Sister; 197
» Valindra Shadowmoon Tohrthaal - Wild Elf; Mate

Weapon(s): broad sword; bow; knucklers.

Fighting Skill(s): hand to hand combat; swordplay; archery.

Magic: The Shift itself is a painless transformation of the body that may leave the Lythari fatigued or sore, but causes no immediate damage to the body. Lythari tend to greatly take after their animal counterparts, borrowing both enhanced senses and physical abilities from them. Even when not transformed, a Lythari is able to trace a scent as well as any hunting dog, see in particularly low lighting, and hear a twig snag several yards off. They typically display speed greater than that of the average human, as well. However, in order to access their full abilities a Lythari must fully transform into their wolf form. Additionally, they have a tendency to spook domestic animals that can be problematic.

Other: His mate, Valindra, is the Wild Elf princess.

▄▄▄▄ ▄ ᴇᴠᴇʀʏᴏɴᴇ ʜᴀs sᴏᴍᴇᴏɴᴇ ᴡʜᴏ's ᴡɪʟʟɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴀɴʏᴛʜɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ｔｈｅｍ

▄ ʙᴜᴛ ᴍᴇ, ɪ ↳ Ｊａｍｉｓｏｎ Ｓｏｌｖｅｓｔｅｒ ↲ ɪ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ▄
↱ ᴍᴀsᴄᴜʟɪɴᴇ - ᴇɪɢʜᴛᴇᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀs ʏᴏᴜɴɢ - ɴᴇᴡ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛ - ʙɪsᴇxᴜᴀʟ - sɪɴɢʟᴇ ↰

James is an exceptionally gawky person, taking in his lean physique and his height. He has some muscle definition, just not the kind that would allow for him to be a straight up bodybuilder. It's not like he wants to be, though. He's got a certain set to his jaw, look in his dark brown eyes that some people interpret as a reason to beat the shit out of him. He doesn't quite understand why anyone would waste their time on him, and is quite indifferent to this.

But we can't dismiss him as unattractive. No, James is in now way such a thing. He's just unconventional in his looks. The ruffled hair, the snarky crook of his lips, and that dim, nearly lightless shine in his eyes. While his appearance draw negative attention, it also happens to draw the positive kind, as well.

▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄ ▄ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ɢᴇᴛ ᴛᴏᴏ ｃｌｏｓｅ

↳ ᴀɴᴅʀᴇᴡ ɢᴀʀғɪᴇʟᴅ - ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛ - ʙʀᴏᴡɴ ᴇʏᴇs - 5'9" - 178 ʟʙs - ᴛᴇɴᴏʀ;ᴡᴀʀʙʟᴇᴅ ↲

James' voice sounds water running over stones, and it doesn't really help that he mumbles. You sometimes have to strain to hear him if he's reluctant to talk, but he'll be more than loud enough if he feels the need to be heard. He's had to deal with quite a lot, and his brothers seemed to like aiming for the throat.

▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄ sᴀʏ ᴄʜᴇᴇsᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ｐｉｃｔｕｒｅ

▄▄ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ ↳ ｈａｐｐｙ ↲ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴀɴʏ ᴛɪᴍᴇ sᴏᴏɴ, sᴏɴ ▄▄

Los Angelos, the city of angels. Only, not everyone is angels. James' parents certainly weren't. They may have been rich as fuck, but they couldn't give a fuck about a child who could barely make a passing grade. They didn't seem to care when he was bullied in his prissy little school with the prissy white gates. They just wrote a note to the principal when he said something about it,and added it to a long list of things they'd nag him about.

Being the smallest child of the family didn't help either, what with his siblings all towering over him. His sister used him as a doll, and his twin brothers as a punching bag. He spent numerous hours trying to amount to what they did, wonderful children of the perfect family. His parents seemed content enough when he managed to get to some passing level grades, as well as the standard awards for participation. This, though, only managed to prompt further scorn from his siblings, which lead to his parents scolding him for giving in to his siblings' violent tendencies. Going to school with a black eye in a prestigious religious establishment began to raise more problems, and he found more people that wanted to actuate their violent tendencies upon him. When he turned sixteen, he announced that he would drop out. It was too much for him to handle on his own, and none of his family was doing much to help. He moved out soon after, deciding that the arguments with him were fruitless and mostly just a waste of air.

Living on his own had some perks, but not many. There was somehow still that air of upper class around him though, and he found himself the target of muggers, dealers, and pretty much everyone who thought he was looking at them funny. He came to learn that he had no one, as he always had, but that he was fine with this kind of isolation. It was better than sitting at home and pretending that he was okay with the way his family treated him because he lacked the ambition.

Six months ago, though, his parents closed his fund, leaving him with only the money he'd transferred into a separate account. When he got the email for the experiment, he jumped at the opportunity for an income. He wasn't exactly happy eating ramen noodles from a cup every night.

▄▄ ▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄ ᴛʜᴇ ᴏɴʟʏ sɪɴ ɪɴ ʟɪғᴇ ɪs ｌｙｉｎｇ

▄▄ ▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ᴛᴏ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟғ

▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄ sᴏᴍᴇ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ɪs ᴀ ɢᴏᴅ ᴏғ ｍｉｓｃｈｉｅｆ

▄ ɪ ɢᴜᴇss ʏᴏᴜ ᴄᴏᴜʟᴅ sᴀʏ ɪ ↳ Ｌｏｋｉ Ｓｃｈäｆｅｒ ↲ ᴀᴍ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴏɴᴇ ▄
↱ ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ - ᴇɪɢʜᴛᴇᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀs ʏᴏᴜɴɢ - ɴᴇᴡ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛ - ᴘᴀɴsᴇxᴜᴀʟ - ᴄʟᴏsᴇᴅ ↰

No one quite knows what Loki's parents were thinking when they named her, aside from her looks. She's got that shock of strawberry blonde hair, but most people tend to refer to her as a ginger. She'd say that she got it from her mother, considering her father had hair the color of ebony. Her eyes are a hazel brown, usually alight with whatever prank she has in mind for whomever. She's got that classic slender look, with soft curves and smooth lines.

One thing that people tend to notice is the huge cluster of freckles she has, and her tattoos. Most don't expect for someone as innocent looking as her to have such a large number of tattoos, but she quite likes it. Most of them involve classic board games, like Candy Land, or they have to do with how she felt the day she got it. As for her freckles, people seem to find them rather endearing, while she can't stand them.

▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀ ｈｕｒｒｉｃａｎｅ

↳ ʜᴀᴛᴛɪᴇ ᴡᴀᴛsᴏɴ - ғɪᴠᴇ ғᴛ ғɪᴠᴇ - 168 ʟʙs - ɢɪɴɢᴇʀ - ʜᴀᴢᴇʟ ᴇʏᴇs - ᴀʟᴛᴏ ; ᴅʀᴀᴡʟᴇᴅ ↲

Most people have attributed Loki's voice with having the attitude of one of those lazy cats. They also say that it fits her perfectly. Just a note of it could set someone at ease, or on edge depending on what she has to say. It's a comforting symphony of vocal contractions that most people enjoy hearing, though.

▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄ ʏᴇsᴛᴇʀᴅᴀʏ ɪs ｈｉｓｔｏｒｙ

▄▄ sᴏ ᴛᴏᴍᴏʀʀᴏᴡ ᴡɪʟʟ ʙᴇ ᴀ ↳ ｍｙｓｔｅｒｙ ↲ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ sᴏʟᴠᴇ ▄

Loki never knew the name of her mother, mostly because the woman took off when she three months old. Now, they believe that she'd actually gotten lost in a storm after a trip to the market for bread and milk, but they can't be sure since they never found the car. Living in a town with few women, the men decided that they'd help out in taking care of her.

So, raised by men with little exposure to what a girl is supposed to act like, Loki joined her father as a hunter and fisher in the snowiest of regions in Norway. They spent hours cooped up in tents, on trails, and on the river, all so that she could further enhance her skills. There was , however, and incident in which she went missing for a week when she was twelve. The men of the village scoured the trails and paths looking for her, only to find her asleep at home. It had turned out that she'd been sleep walking, and had only just gotten back home. They decided that they secure all the locks then.

Her life, aside from that, was pretty uneventful. To her, that was b-o-r-i-n-g. She didn't dislike the quiet way her life had moved, but she definitely wanted some excitement. So, when she received an email to join an experiment, she signed on and fled for the States.

▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄ ▄ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇ sᴏ ᴇᴀɢᴇʀ ᴛᴏ ｌｅａｖｅ

▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄ ▄▄ ▄▄ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜsᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴍᴀʏ ɴᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴄᴏᴍᴇ ʙᴀᴄᴋ

▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄ ɴᴏʙᴏᴅʏ ᴅᴏᴇs sᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ғᴏʀ ｎｏｔｈｉｎｇ

▄ ɪ'ᴍ sᴜʀᴇ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ɪ ↳ Ａｚａｚｅｌ Ｌａｎｃａｓｔｅｒ ↲ ᴀᴍ ᴛʜᴇ sᴀᴍᴇ ▄
↱ ғᴇᴍᴀʟᴇ - ᴇɪɢʜᴛᴇᴇɴ ʏᴇᴀʀs ʏᴏᴜɴɢ - ɴᴇᴡ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛ - ʜᴇᴛᴇʀᴏsᴇxᴜᴀʟ - sɪɴɢʟᴇ ↰

Azazel has always been exceptionally pretty, drawing attention from people just about anywhere. She's also been called adorable, due to a few antics she gets into. Though, the overall picture is that most people see the exotic look she has. She's got a slender figure, with more curves towards the hip and thigh area. She's not in shape, but she's not exactly out of shape either. Her eyes are a chocolate brown that seem kind of mesmerizing if you stare for too long.

The biggest marker of her presence though is her hair. It's a huge, curly halo that she doesn't really mind anymore. It's become a part of her that she's learned to deal with, even when the best products can't. Of course, there will be times when she decides it needs to be straightened out, because that happens. A lot.

▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄ ʙʀɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜᴏʀɴʏ ｃｒｏｗｎ

↳ ᴀsʜʟᴇʏ ᴍᴏᴏʀᴇ - 5'6" - 170 ʟʙs - ʙʀᴜɴᴇᴛᴛᴇ - ʙʀᴏᴡɴ - sᴏᴘʀᴀɴᴏ ; ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍʏ ↲

Azazel's got that voice that you would hear in your dreams. It drawls out like a soft melody, and ends in a whisper-like tone. Often times people would think that she's been whispering to them at a somewhat distant proximity, when actually she's standing right by them. Either way, it has a dream-like quality that can be considered exceptionally soothing.

▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄ ᴘᴇᴏᴘʟᴇ ᴅᴏ ᴡʜᴀᴛ ɪᴛ ｔａｋｅｓ

▄▄▄ ᴡʜʏ ɪs ɪᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴍʏ ↳ ｌｉｆｅ ↲ ɪs sᴜᴘᴘᴏsᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴅɪғғᴇʀᴇɴᴛ? ▄▄

Azazel never knew her father. Not because he ran out on the family, or because her mother didn't know, but because he died shortly after she was born. He happened to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, and was shot down by the thugs of some cartel in their Miami slum town. Her mother fell back into old habits soon after, and went back to shooting up in the bathroom while her child cried. In those times, Azazel was raised by her grandmother, a no-nonsense woman who didn't see her daughter's methods of coping as beneficial to anyone. By the time she was four, Azazel had adapted to the situation, and instead called her grandmother "momma".

This developed into a real problem when her mother went through whatever near-death high that made her change her ways. She took Azazel from her grandmother, told her the truth, and moved across the street. In the process of it all, her grandmother had planned to take her mother to court for custody, fed up with the whole situation. Even if she was glad her daughter was sobering up, she wasn't sure how long it would last. It turned out, almost cruelly, that it lasted longer than the elderly woman. She had a stroke and fell in her home two months later, dying on the steps with no one there to hear her.

Her mother followed eight years later, having broken her sobriety a year before. Azazel had been eleven when she started up again, old enough to be forced to all the drug awareness seminars held by the public school she attended. She attempted to stave her mother off the lethal substances, but nothing seemed to work, so she let it be. There was no helping it, as her mother always turned on her when she was in need of a fix, getting aggressive and violent until Zazel coughed up whatever she'd hidden. So, standing over her coffin at twelve years old, she didn't really care. She'd given up caring for her mother six months before, tired of being abused for looking out for the only family she had.

She turned thirteen in a foster home, and not at all in the company of people she enjoyed being around. The girls and boys in the home attempted to sound more pitiful than one another, and she wasn't about that life. She didn't see it worth the bother of it, and left them to their idiocy. This isolation drew the attention of possible adopters, and soon she was the most visited child. It was a shock to the entire house, considering that it was usually the babies that were popular. She was adopted just before she turned fourteen, and then a real nightmare began.

Her stepparents had a certain perversion that Azazel seemed to fit perfectly. Nymphettes seemed to be all the rage for them, and they took their turns with her, in showing her off to friends and forcing her to do whatever it is they wanted. By the time she turned sixteen, she realized that the older children in the house were simply being replaced by her. So, she faked a pregnancy. She worked with one of the older girls, Noelle, to pass it off. They kicked her out of the house, but not before she stolen the money from their wallets, along with their credit cards.

On the streets, but not really, she bought herself a nice room in a hotel and lived off the money she'd taken. When that ran out, she took to selling the very thing that killed her mother. She attracted enough customers for her to be paid fairly well, and her appearance drew very little attention from the police.

When she saw the email for the experiment, she took the offer. It meant she wouldn't possibly be killing anyone anymore.

▄▄▄ ▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄ ▄ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ sᴇᴇ ɪ'ᴍ ｒｉｇｈｔ
▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄▄ ▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄ ▄▄▄▄ ▄ ᴀɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜ'ʟʟ ʜᴀᴛᴇ ᴍᴇ ғᴏʀ ɪᴛ

▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ɢᴇᴛs ᴅᴏɴᴇ ɪғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏɴ'ᴛ ᴅᴏ ｓｏｍｅｔｈｉｎｇ

▄ ᴛʜᴀᴛ's ᴡʜʏ ɪ ↳ Ｒｏｍａｎ Ｗａｔｋｉｎｓ ↲ ᴅᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏsᴛ ᴡʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴄᴀɴ ▄
↱ ᴍᴀʟᴇ - ᴛᴡᴇɴᴛʏ-ᴏɴᴇ ʏᴇᴀʀs ᴏʟᴅ - ɴᴇᴡ ᴘᴀʀᴛɪᴄɪᴘᴀɴᴛ - ʜᴇᴛᴇʀᴏsᴇxᴜᴀʟ - sɪɴɢʟᴇ ↰

Roman has always had an eye-grabbing appearance, though somewhat low-key in comparison to some other people. However, it is quite evident that he's of mixed descent, what with his light skin and eyes. He's never been extremely bulky, but he has certainly never been wimpy-looking, from most stand points. He's lithe and capable looking, with an aura of independence and confidence.

What most people notice though are his aforementioned eyes. They're a nice, light brown. It's like looking at molten caramel as it's being made and crafted into a perfect mold. The food references that people have made have been pretty annoying, from Roman's stand point. He usually just lets it slide, as it could be too much of a hassle to tell people off about it.

▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄ ᴡᴏɴ'ᴛ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʟʟᴏᴡ ᴍᴇ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ｊｕｎｇｌｅ

↳ sʜᴀᴅ ᴍᴏss - 6 ᴇᴠᴇɴ - 156 ʟʙs - ᴅᴀʀᴋ ʙʀᴏᴡɴ - ᴄᴀʀᴀᴍᴇʟ - ᴛᴇɴᴏʀ ; sᴏᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ↲

Roman's got the voice that's meant for putting children to sleep. It's nice and soothing, with a gentle cadence to it. He's had a way of putting people at ease, usually with a simple phrase, only because it's his voice. Yeah, it's pretty nice to listen to.

▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏɴ ᴛʜᴇ ｓｔｒｅｅｔｓ

▄ ɪᴛ's sᴏ ᴇᴀsʏ ᴛᴏ ɢᴇᴛ ↳ ｌｏｓｔ ↲ sᴏ ʏᴏᴜ ʙᴇsᴛ ғɪɴᴅ ʏᴏᴜʀsᴇʟғ ᴡʜᴇɴ ʏᴏᴜ ᴅᴏ ▄

Summer in Philadelphia is crazy. People walk the streets to find a way to escape the streets, block parties dotting the city, and everyone in a rush to enjoy themselves. Roman learned that his parents were just like everyone else from an early age. They'd leave him in the house, only a few months old, with a baby-sitter just as antsy to get out of the hot house. This, of course, didn't mean that they abandoned him. No, he was taken care of when they were home. They were certainly happy, but they were restless. They wanted to be out there, not yet ready to fully give up their old lives of carefree nights and listless days. They made blunders in raising him, sure, but they were the best parents he could hope for in the neighborhood they were in.

When he was seven, though, they were taken away from him by some crazy jackass with a gun. It had to do with some fudged robbery, but it didn't really matter. The man took his family, his parents. His younger sister, only three, would barely remember his mother's voice and it'd be that man's fault. He'd have the memory of watching his grandmother come in and just hug him so tight for a reason he didn't understand. He toughened up, though, and tried to stay optimistic for his sister. He was really all she had left, and he needed to be there for her. When he turned fourteen, he went out looking for a job to better help his grandmother care for the two of them. He'd lie about his age to get into work. When he had that growth spurt in the midst of puberty, he practically danced for joy knowing he'd look slightly older than he already did. He put himself through high school, and his sister through grade school.

Now, at twenty-one, he still worries about his sister in high school. She's around that age where she has to worry about college. He can't stand the thought of her not going. When he got the email with information for the experiment, he joined right after seeing the payload. With it, he'd be able to put her through college.

▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄ ᴛʜᴇʏ sᴀʏ ɢᴏ ʙɪɢ ᴏʀ ɢᴏ ｈｏｍｅ

▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄▄▄ ▄ ▄▄▄ ɪ sᴀʏ ɪ'ᴍ ᴛᴀᴋɪɴ' ɪᴛ ʜᴏᴍᴇ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍᴇ

[ First Name ] Anja
[ Middle Name ] Lafayette
[ Last Name ] Metzger
[ Nickname(s) ] It's just Anja. Don't even think about it.

[ Age ] 17
[ Birthday ] May 17th
[ Place of Birth ] Dinkelsbühl, Germany
[ Gender ] Female [/glances into shirt] "definitely"
[ Sexual Orientation ] Ambisexual
[ Relationship Status ] Single -- but I was hoping someone could make Isaac and they could be a thing?

[ Species ] Hybrid
[ Information ] The odd mix of pairings found in Anja's family resulted in the mixture of species that is seen above. She displays her Hell Hound genes more dominantly, and her other genes lie dormant until she should have some sort of breakdown. The Heavenly Virtue of Temperance: Restraint, temperance, justice. Constant mindfulness of others and one's surroundings; practicing self-control, abstention, moderation, zero-sum and deferred gratification. Prudence to judge between actions with regard to appropriate actions at a given time. Proper moderation between self-interest, versus public-interest, and against the rights and needs of others. The Deadly Sin of Wrath: also known as "rage", may be described as inordinate and uncontrolled feelings of hatred and anger. Wrath, in its purest form, presents with self-destructiveness, violence, and hate that may provoke feuds that can go on for centuries. Wrath may persist long after the person who did another a grievous wrong is dead. Feelings of anger can manifest in different ways, including impatience, revenge, and vigilantism. Those two genes are forever in conflict with each other, but work to make her a terrible force when they collide in the inner workings of her mind. Her Vampyre genes may be recessive, but she still shows the evident signs of being a Vampyre. She does still have a need for blood, but it isn't as much of a necessity as it would be for a full blooded Vampyre. As a Hell Hound, her size is greatly diminished from how it would be should she have been full blooded. As it is the dominant gene, she exhibits most of the characteristics.
『tt』Temperance Recessive『ww』Wrath Recessive 『vv』Vampyre Recessive 『Hh』 Hell Hound Dominant

[ Appearance ]

[ Face Claim ] Amber Heard

[ Eye Color ] Crystal Green -- that is, however, only from a distance. There's a light ring of hazel brown around her pupil, but when she gets...angry or Wrath takes over, her eyes become obsidian black.
[ Hair Color ] Golden Blonde -- it's usually straight, some times curled.
[ Height ] 5'6" -- she might not be tall, but at least she's not short.
[ Vocal Attributes ] Contralto -- she sounds just a bit husky, but mostly appealing to those around her. She has a way of drawing attention to herself with her voice, and holding it.
[ Distinguishing Mark(s) ] Aside from a few burns, there are strangulation marks around her throat that haven't faded. She doesn't know why, but doesn't care so long as she can keep it covered up.

[ Personality ]

Despite how she might appear, Anja is an intelligent being. She's very smart when given the opportunity to show, but she prefers to not do so. This is just part of her meticulous inclination to appear as something else. A defense of hers, if you will. It works well a good deal of the time, and if she should have to display any intelligence, it's done in a sly way that most would be impressed by. Passive-Intelligent, if you will. The meticulous part of her wouldn't allow for the ruse to be broken.

Anja can be spontaneous, doing things that surprise even her. It's not that she doesn't have self control; she just can't help herself sometimes. Sometimes. Other times, it's of her own volition. Starting a fight, all her. Cursing someone out, all her. Mercilessly slaughtering a couple dozen people, maybe not her. She can't be sure. Most of the impulses that run through her can be all of her own thought, but the genes in her can often sneak up on her, and get out of control. And when they get out of control, they aren't particularly the best friends in the world.

Being sociable is nothing for Anja. She can mingle like a pro, and she had practice that she won't mention. With this sociable nature comes the observance that she uses to keep conversation going, or steering it away from awkward situations that could be potentially social suicide, or ruin someone's night. No, she would never be in the mood to do that. That being said, she would more than love to have people to talk to.

Anja can lie as easily as she can breathe. It's very useful, and she's believe a good deal of the time. She can make even some of the most outrageous stories seem real, because the trick is all in the tone of voice and your outer appearance. Her lies are what has kept a good deal of her crimes under wraps, save the ones that had eye witnesses and when she's lost her temper. It's almost second nature to her to lie, as well, and the truth is harder to come by with her. It takes a lot of work, or you'd have to had known her at some point before where the lies originates.

Potty mouth should be written on her forehead like a sign, but it isn't unless she's totally comfortable with you. Anja can also be a flirt, but not overly. It's not the excessive "hey, sleep with me" but more so the soft kind of flirting. What isn't soft is the vulgarity of her mouth and mind. It's basically in the gutter at all times of the day, she can't do much about it.

[ Strengths ]

◕ Shifting -- when she shifts, it's like the ground shakes. She's roughly the size of a house in her Hell Hound form, and would be much larger if she were full blooded.
◕ Invisibility -- Why, yes, she can become invisible. But only for a short period of time. Usually in spurts of five minutes.
◕ Telekinesis -- It's unusual, but she can move things with her mind. She does it only out of convenience, and resorts to it in any form of a fight. It's better to do that than to allow for the other parts of her to take over. It's slightly stronger than it would be, what with her housing Wrath and Temperance in her body.
◕ Speed and Strength -- she's stronger and faster than the average human. Immensely so. Though, it is pretty close with Werewolves, but she's never thought of testing that.
◕ Compulsion -- it's very weak, but if she holds eye contact with a person long enough, she can get them to do what she wants. This, this has serious limits that she doesn't want to push, though.
◕ Intelligence -- Anja is highly intelligent, and frightfully so. She's not a genius, but she's not an idiot either.

[ Weaknesses ]

◔ Holy Water -- it burns her skin, and if she's dowsed with enough of it, she passes out.
◔ Devil's Traps -- she can indeed be stuck in Devil's Traps. There are possibilities of her getting out, but she's usually too distracted by the headache is causes. Temperance, being of angelic persuasion, isn't all for being caged.
◔ Exorcism -- While it doesn't expel anything from her body, it makes her pretty weak. It also forces her into seizures, which usually result in the violent snapping of bones.
◔ Self-Control -- her mixed genes produce a series of impulses that she has difficulty handling. On most occasions, she gives in.
◔ Anger -- once she gets angry, all Hell breaks loose. Wrath is the Deadly Sin of anger. It feeds off that energy until it takes over, and then bodies start dropping.

[ Likes ]

◕ Fighting -- MMA and Boxing happen to be her favorite forms of doing damage to a body
◕ Cars -- she likes looking at vehicles, and feeling the way they purr through the seats.
◕ Candy and Food -- her body needs a lot of energy to keep from breaking down, so what better way than food? And why shouldn't she enjoy it?
◕ Small Animals -- they have a habit of flocking to her, because of her angelic persuasion. Even if it is weak, the animals seem to like her pretty well, so she finds them to be alright.
◕ Cursing -- she's worse than a sailor

[ Dislikes ]

◔ Skirts and Dresses -- she hasn't had very good run-ins with either, and would prefer to be able to run when the time comes.
◔ Gender Restrictions -- she hates that she has to have dangly bits before she can do certain things, or before something she already does becomes acceptable.
◔ Stereotypes -- the common stereotype for a Russian woman is black haired and pale. Does she look like that to you?
◔ Thunder Storms -- Anja has a sensitive pair of ears, and the crack of thunder during a storm sounds just that much more painful.
◔ Fall -- it's her least favorite season. In her opinion, everything dies.

[ History ]

No one ever said the miracle of life had to be pretty, or that it didn't cost something.

Anja's mother certainly hadn't considered that. There's always something to happens to a person when they've gone through eight hours of labor, and had yet to see the father of the child in the hospital. Her first thought was that she'd been bailed on, and that the father of the newborn baby girl was just another deadbeat father who'd have made their child become someone entirely different than what they should have been destined to be.

What had actually happened to make the father miss the birth of his first child was an accident that should never have happened. He was taken from his family just minutes away from arriving at the hospital. The emergency room had been filled that particular morning after a protest had gone terribly wrong. The hours he lay bleeding out were nearly parallel to the labor of his wife only floors above him.

He'd died around the same exact time that the baby, Anja, had been born. Her mother found the news to be the turning point of her spiral to the depths of instability. Rather than stay in the place that should have been the child's home in honor of her father, she moved her to Moscow.

Anja and Moscow went together like peanut butter and jelly.

She loved her first thirteen years of life there. They were some of her best memories, and her mother seemed content with her manner of escaping the reality of her child going on without a father. She'd never bothered to remarry, to stuck on the love she had lost, but the child it'd

produced had been a motivating cause for her to find some sort of comfort.
In the Russian spring that she turned eight, the first felony to land on her mental record occurred in a candy store. The clerk wasn't particularly bright, and wasn't paying any sort of attention to the cluster of children basking in the sugary glory of the wares. Snotty fingers smeared little green and white fluids on the glass while Anja stood fixated on the butterscotch assortment.

A simple glance in the direction of the counter told her that the teenage boy behind the counter was more concerned with chatting away with whomever had been on the phone with him. She felt her throat grow dry after she rooted through her pockets for the quarters that would procure her coveted butterscotches. Being eight could only get you so much money, and there was only so long before the candy was gone.

She decided to take a risk for the better, and began shoving butterscotches into her pockets. Now, butterscotch wrappings are quite the noisy little devils, since they're made from plastic and tightly wrapped at that. In shoving them in her pocket, it seemed that Anja was starting up an alarm that had the children turning in her direction. The clerk was still busy chatting away still, but she had the attention of her peers.

Walking quickly to the door, she started up yet another alarm of screaming children. The clerk disrupted his call only for a moment, but it was long enough for him to become aware of the situation. There was a tad bit of arguing with a splash of haggling and pleading, but in the end, Anja failed.

She left the candy store sullenly, and reported herself to her mother upon her arrival home.

Anja's mother became very sick the year she turned fourteen.

With the fresh start of the "rebellious stage", Anja didn't much think that her mother would be sick for long. No, she believed it would pass like all the other sicknesses she'd ever had, and they'd be back to screaming at each other in no time. She suspected that her mother was throwing one of her fits, as it wouldn't be that first time that her mother had feigned a serious sickness to get her daughter to behave and listen to her for once.

The thought of a person doing this is quite cruel and strange, but it works under normal circumstances. And, these circumstances were not normal. The tumor was located inside of her mother's lungs, and in her frontal lobe of her brain.  The realization of this tissue rebelling against the mother she was doing the exact same thing to being a means to kill her, ate away at Anja. She had to change, she believed, and did so. She became that eight year old girl that told her mother everything.

But, it was too late.

In the fall of the next year, she watched her mother fade away into a breathing husk of nothing. It was her decision to pull the plug, and she made sure that it was done when she wasn't there to see.

It had been months since her mother had died, and not a single rebellious act.

The state had taken a look at her record, and rejoiced. That is, until the fire that occurred the summer after her mother's passing. The source of the fire had never been determined, and she was already a ward of the state, and was therefore insured a place of residence when the fire destroyed her home. Officials had taken her statement of it being a possible fuse that sparked and set alight to the house while she was out on a run.

However, that was a lie.

Anja had set the fire herself. The thought of staying with all the haunting memories wasn't enough for her to bear the weight alone. So, she destroyed them all. She'd carry the good ones with her no matter where she went, and leave the bad in ashes.

Anja had her first actual interest in love when she met her caretaker.

She was fifteen, just recently finished the changes puberty put her through. It hadn't been a very fun journey, and she didn't much like the weight that was added onto her in certain areas, but what she did like was the attention it caught from Lucian, the man in charge of her. She had taken more than a little bit of interest in him, and it may have seemed normal since she was stuck with him until she was legal.

He introduced her to the Russian branch of the Playboy Club, which had actually opened employment to girls her age. The thought of working there at first appalled her, until she realized how much money was in it. She could save up and travel back to where she should have been living, and not be stuck in the confines of Russia with bad memories at every turn.

That thought, and being able to have Lucian like her that bit more, is what pushed her to take up the job. It wasn't the best of ideas, but it was one that surely had her swimming in a good amount of wealth that she saved up for her trip. However, there were a few things that she hadn't anticipated that would get in the way of things.

The bite did something that shouldn't have happened.

Many months after she'd joined the Playboy Club and become a star employee, Lucian decided that it was time to change Anja just a bit more for the better. She had no idea that he'd been a Werewolf, although the signs were all there. He'd make sure she was securely locked in her room whenever the full moon was at hand, and he had a more commanding tone when he was around his buddies. Apparently, he was the Alpha of a pack that migrated frequently through Europe, and had made a pit stop in Russia that lasted a good number of years.

He'd decided that she would join the pack, and make an excellent addition. What he hadn't decided to do was activate the Hell Hound in her. Every other gene in her activated at the same time, and the virtue and the vice weren't on any good terms to be activated at the same moment. The reaction it caused nearly ripped her to shreds, until her genes settled for taking turns. The first up to bat was of course the dominant gene.

The manner by which he had planned to give her the bite had her pinned to the lockers of the staffroom, with several of the girls to keep a look out. They had been pack members, most of them. The others were simply innocent human beings. The other pack members were waiting outside of the club, anticipating the acceptance of a pretty blonde to their pack.

The Hell Hound retaliated moments after Lucian broke skin.

The casual shredding of human skin and falling out of hair was entirely new to Anja, who screamed in an agony that had everyone cringing. They were confused, as they'd never seen a change that severe, or even remotely close to it. What began to frighten them was the growth of her body. She was beginning to push the boundaries of the ceiling above her, and was still going. When she had finished, there was a large hole and screaming customers by her head.

Only, her head didn't quite look like her head. It was more of the skull of a hound, the top of her skull exposed and bleeding. Funny thing was, she wasn't feeling any pain. Not once had she ever felt it. Parts of her spine were in clear sight, pearly white bone an odd hue against the pulsating red of her bloody flesh. Her tail was entirely skeletal, and the muscles of her throat exposed.

What happened next was entirely of instinct. The splatter of blood in the staffroom could easily be stated as not hers, nor was the blood on the floor where her head had pushed through.

When she shifted back, she stood in a sea of blood and body parts. Horrified, she screamed again. This drew more attention, and she couldn't have herself being locked away. When others of the staff ran into the room, she was still there, but they couldn't seem to find her. Anja was sure she was standing right there in front of everyone, stark naked at that. Realizing what was going on, she took off and disappeared into the night.

Anja avoided people like the plague.

She wouldn't- couldn't- have anyone else's death on her hands. So, she made sure she never talked to anyone, or saw anyone. Ten days went by before Wrath decided that it would be a marvelous time to have fun.

Truly, when the massacre of many is an option of entertainment, Wrath would take it. The slaughter of eighteen men who had crossed her path the night she went out for the first time since her shift was no small event. Red flags went up of a serial killer, and officers were put on alert. The only thing that had saved Anja was Temperance. The virtue controlled the vice, and gave Anja enough time to run for the States.

Her specific destination was Beacon Hills, a place that sounded quiet enough.

[ Relations ]

⊳ Radka Metzger -- mother -- deceased
⊳ Jeremiah Metzger -- father -- deceased
⊳ Lucian Vetterline -- care-taker -- supposedly deceased

[ Other ]

[ First Name ] Moira
[ Middle Name ] Pendle
[ Last Name ] Amherst
[ Nickname(s) ] Mo -- he's not exactly sure why everyone is so reluctant to call him Moira. Someone once told him it was girl's name, but he was still majorly confused. People seem better off when they call him Mo, so he just goes with it.

[ Age ] 18
[ Birthday ] September Sixth
[ Place of Birth ] Sandomierz, Poland
[ Grade ] Senior
[ Gender ] Male
[ Sexual Orientation ] He's pretty confused whenever someone asks him this question. Is there a reason he should have to choose?
[ Relationship Status ] Single -- reserved for Mrs. Malfoy

[ Department ] Bellavia Performing Arts

[ Emphasis ] Musical Theater -- [ Minor ] Acting

[ Appearance ]

[ Face Claim ] Dane Dehaan

[ Eye Color ] Electric/Pale Blue -- honestly, it depends on the lighting. Most time, his eyes are a serene pale blue that are tremendously easy to get lost in.
[ Hair Color ] Honey/Dark Brown -- again, another trick of the light. But, if you look close enough, it might be blonde? Must be all that time being confined at home.
[ Height ] 5'7"
[ Vocal Attributes ] Tenor -- he's got an inquisitive tone to his voice, if that makes much sense. It basically makes it so that everything he says seems like a question, probably because it might be one.
[ Distinguishing Mark(s) ] Now, Mo doesn't really have any distinguishing marks. He was kept in a figurative bubble of protection and anything that would put him in harm's way to leave a mark on his very nice skin was a no-no. So, Mo is without any distinguishing features, aside from his marvelously blue oculars. He likes to think that's the one thing that makes him stand out.

[ Personality ]

Mo...is probably the most innocent person you will see these days. He's spent most of his life being sheltered by his parents. Everything he was exposed to was monitored. In fact, he's never seen a R-rated movie. Or porn. Yeah, he's been stuck with cartoons and shows that didn't deal with sexual interests in the like. Not because his parents had any specific religious interest, just that they wanted their child to grow up pure and unspoiled. And, that kind of meant that he was kept away from sex-ed. Puberty was a touchy topic, but it was covered. In all respect, though, Mo turned out to be pretty okay...right?

He's one of those sweet kids, like the eight year old kind, and he really just likes to see people smile. He'll usually go out of his way to do so, unless of course his parents are watching. Then, then he acts like he couldn't care less about your feelings or problems. If you want to be complimented, you usually talk to him. He likes to see the good in people and things, but he still has trouble wrapping his head around the marvels of the world outside of his home. He was pretty much robbed of all technology, so there's that. It's possibly a good way to explain his oddities. Like, for example, that perpetual confusion. He tends to ask a ton of questions about the most obvious of things, but it's not to be annoying. It's really because he doesn't know. Yikes. Moira also has a good streak of obedience, aside from his running away. He'll listen to pretty much what anyone tells him to do, with no resistance. So, if you plan on stealing from him, just tell him to give it to you. You really don't need to threaten him with a deadly weapon.

Moira happens to be very blunt and tactless. He's like a child in that instance, saying exactly what they think when they think it. Though, this is really a newer part of him that he's exploring. He's kind of glad he ran away, otherwise he won't be able to open up all the hidden parts of his personality. But, getting back to that blunt nature of his. He might seem like he's picking a fight, but he's really just stating a fact, or in opinion in some cases, so don't take offense. You're forgetting he behaves like a child in that way, saying whatever he wants.

[ Strengths ]

◕ Observant -- one of the many joys of childhood is noticing everything. He notices just about everything because he is intrigued by it, but don't stop him.
◕ Encouraging -- he has a way of picking people up and keeping them moving. It's honestly the best thing about him, and some people seem to like that about him.
◕ Dancing -- how do you think he's made it musical theater? There's certainly a lot of dance numbers involved, and he's likely never going to stop. Not since he started listening to music, anyways.
◕ Acting -- he's been living in a play his entire life, directed by his parents. He's certainly good at putting on a show.
◕ Singing -- this is something new. He never really sang much before he ran away, considering his parents thought it was all too distracting for him. They thought it took away from his studies.

[ Weaknesses ]

◔ Ignorance -- Moira knows close to nothing about the world, and it'll take some doing to cram all that he's missed into his head.
◔ Tactless -- I think you can understand where this will lead for him.
◔ Dependent -- he needs someone to follow after, or he's pretty much lost. He's had his parents thinking for him his entirely life, so it really shouldn't be so big a surprise if he needs to be guided.
◔ Easily Distracted -- everything catches his eye and draws his attention away from what's in front of him. He's had a hard time managing since his "escape," but he's slowly working on it.
◔ Innocence -- sometimes, being innocent in a world like this, a place like this, is hazardous. Moira has to figure that out on his own.

[ Likes ]

◕ Music -- he listens to it all, now. He's been without it for quite some time, and as a legal adult, it should be within his rights, yes?
◕ Pastries -- another thing he rarely had. His mother was in charge of his sugar intake, and it was pretty limited. Now with the freedom to do whatever he wants, it's on his list to eat all the sweets and pastries that are set before him.
◕ Driving -- he almost didn't get his license, but he's been doing more of it lately. He can take himself places, y'know? Go see things on his own.
◕ English -- he was stuck with Polish at home, but his English is perfect. He still has an accent, but that doesn't really matter now, right?
◕ Questions -- you learn things when you ask questions, and Moira's all about learning new things these days. So, yes, he will ask you every question he can come up with, and let you ask him just as many back. That's what it is, in his mind.

[ Dislikes ]

◔ Small Spaces -- he has an acute fear. It has everything to do with his parents.
◔ Maps -- he can't read them. At all. Something about it just doesn't sit well with him.
◔ Mathematics -- surprisingly, he's a whiz at it. He just hates it. Let x get over y, already.
◔ Disrespect -- bad children get punished. While running away was still bad, he felt that he had some rights to it. But, his punishment for disrespect was very serious.
◔ Dogs -- they kind of freak him out, considering he hasn't exactly had very good run-ins with them. He pretty much losses it if he so much as sees the tail of them. Hiding behind the closest person is usually his reaction to seeing any sort of canine.

[ History ]

Moira's parents were from a very long line of scientists and scholars. They found no need to have things that involved frivolous behavior. Most technology was an obstacle, so they persisted in removing it from their lives. Thalianna and Jeri Amherst thought that if they hadn't had technology in their lives, then neither would their child. It didn't stop their development, but only enhanced it. So, with that, the two put together a series of old fashioned traditions and mannerisms that would best aide their child in this new age.

So, that was how Moira grew up. No phones, little access to television, no internet, and certainly no girls. Liking other men? Don't you dare, young man. Moira didn't think anything of that last rule, seeing as love was love in his eyes. He checked the dictionary, and there didn't seem to be any real distinction. As it was, Moira found himself cooped up at home to drown in a sea of information before being brought back for dinner and cricket. He had mass at home with his parents, and he was content. Or, as content as he could show them.

The first time they locked him in the closet was when he was nine. He'd failed to get a problem done in the time allotted, and when they refused to give him a second chance, he threw a fit. He can't explain what made him start to actually cry when they glanced between one another. There was only a pause as they opened the closet door, and he was crying again as they lead him in, shut the door, and locked it. The closet was incredibly small, even for a nine year old. He had to duck his head to get in. He spent four hours curled up in that space, in complete darkness. The place was infested with spiders, and rats, and he had a hard time not crying out. He took four minutes to bang on the door and apologize and swear to do better next time, but they didn't let him out.

He went in their six times in the next year, then four, then ten, until they moved to the States. They somehow managed to get him on the plane without him having seen any of the world outside. Maybe it was because they'd taken a private plane? Yeah, probably that. Moira spent most of the trip asleep, exhausted by the endless problems they'd kept him up with the night before. One fun side bar: Moira only slept five hours when he was still with his parents. They kept him awake with problems and revisions, saying that sleep was for the uneducated. Being homeschooled sucked. At any rate, the twelve year old boy was caught in a cycle of work, eat, sleep, repeat. That plane ride was probably the longest he'd ever slept in his life.

When they arrived in the States, he was again whisked away from the glorious world away from his parents. The house they put him in this time had more places that they could shove him in when he misbehaved, and he made sure to count them. He watched his behavior, became that perfect scholar, and avoided punishment. He kept his nose clean in his parents' eyes

and they were pretty excited to see him adjusting to the change of scenery. Really, it was just him staying away from the closet. But, there was a maid in the house that rather enjoyed keeping him company.
The house that they moved into was fairly larger, and harder for the couple to manage on their own. Their son was too busy with all his studies, so they hired a brigade of maids that came in on the daily to clean up after them. Moira was fascinated by the group of older women, all of which treated him very nicely. Well, of course they would, considering he was the nicest of anyone they'd had to clean up for. One in particular was Viola, the one that treated him like he was her son. She always brought him fruits and insisted that he took breaks when he could. She was the lookout for when he needed to rest and was always there to alert him of his parents coming.

You could say that it's a little sad for him to have to find friendship in an old woman, but that didn't matter to him. Viola was the one that introduced him to music. Albeit, it was all in Spanish, but it was music if he couldn't understand it. Viola was the one that got him interested in musical theater, and who found Aurelia. Without her, it was likely that he'd never thought about something other than keeping his parents happy and not wanting to lock him in a closet. As he got older, he grew just a little more rebellious. When he turned seventeen, he took a serious leap towards independence.

He sent in an application to Aurelia.

His parents had no knowledge of his doing this, but Viola knew it all. She was the one that helped him forge all the signatures. When his acceptance letter came in, she intercepted it and took it straight to him. When the time to dispose of the deeds they'd done came, she quit and helped him escape the prison called "home".

He was on the road for several months, just stopping in places tat looked interesting. Well, everywhere seemed interesting, so there was that. He made his way to Aurelia, and the rest is history.

[ Family ]

⊳ Thalianna Amherst -- mother
⊳ Jeri Amherst -- father

[ Other ] Moira's been going by his middle name as opposed to his last name, so that he doesn't get caught by his parents.

[ First Name ] Azreal
[ Middle Name ] Geran
[ Last Name ] Jacobs
[ Nickname(s) ] There are none. He doesn't really like his name being tampered with, considering it's already so short. That, and he doesn't really have...friends to give him any.

[ Age ] 17
[ Birthday ] December First
[ Place of Birth ] Boston, Massachusetts
[ Ethnicity ] British, Russian
[ Grade ] Junior
[ Gender ] Male
[ Sexual Orientation ] Gray Asexual
[ Relationship ] Single -- reserved for Sneha

[ Department ] Lancaster Media Arts

[ Major ] Creative Writing -- [ Minor ] Photojournalism

[ Appearance ]

[ Face Claim ] Evan Peters

[ Eye Color ] Hazel
[ Hair Color ] Blonde/Walnut Brown -- with Azreal's fluctuating personality, he tends to dye his hair frequently. The style of it also changes, usually from a heavy mop over his head to a light cut.
[ Height ] 5'9"
[ Weight ] 185 lbs
[ Vocal Attributes ] Tenor -- he's got quite the accent, considering where he's from. That, with the fact that speaks like he's mumbling, makes it hard for people to understand him.
[ Distinguishing Mark(s) ] Among the many marks that he has, most of them are little burn marks from cigarettes and little cuts. Nothing major, of course.

[ Personality ]

Here's where things get difficult. Azreal's got a problem in the personality department, but not that he doesn't have one. It's mostly that he can't seem to decide on whether to be angry or happy. It's something his mother has had to deal with for quite a while. It's not to say that he's a slightly deranged, but he may be slightly deranged. Let's face it; he's not an entirely stable human being. While he isn't painting the walls with fecal matter, he's not truly right in the head. There aren't voices telling him to murder people, but he does have...tendencies. A few violent ones, at that. But, there are two sides to the coin that is Azreal. See, these two sides are complete opposites. By complete, I mean complete opposites. It's sorta like night and day, but in his case it refers to his hair. For the longest time, his mother had been able to tell which mood he was in by what he'd managed to put in his hair. He used to dye it every week or so, but his mother cut him. Now, that's not much of a problem. Anyways, it's best we get into the different sides of him in a way better explanation than his hair. There aren't any physical differences, but the difference in his overall personality is very evident.

One side happens to just a little bit of a killjoy. He's rather aggressive in his pessimistic view of the world, with little remorse for bringing everyone else down. He has a tendency then to be extremely blunt, likely to throw scorn in whatever it is he's got to say. But, don't get this side of him wrong. There are moments when he can be terribly happy, even with that disturbing view of the world. As in, he usually thinks that everyone should party because you’re likely to die at any time. He's a high-roller, usually doing whatever it is that he enjoys for the time being. If you're not living it up, he's likely to confront you on this, asking every question that could possibly be that much annoying. He has a special talent for getting on people's nerves, and sometimes smiling. It really depends on how you catch him. The same can be said for the other side of him.

The other side of Azreal is really…needy. He has a need to be paid attention to, to be cared for. He sort of reverts to a childish being. He has to bee coddled and spoiled, or he throws a serious kind of fit. He can be extremely manipulative like this, preying on whatever weakness you tend to show. He starts to mold himself to whatever it is that you wish for in the moment. It's like he's known you forever. But, don't be fooled. He becomes selfish this way, and he's less concerned with others. However, the one good point in this is his obsessive displays of affection. Once he's become attached to someone, he doesn't really like to be away from them. Well, no one's really sure if that's a good thing when you see this side of him. If you someone managed to push Azreal over the edge, there's no telling what he'll do.

[ Strengths ]

■ Meticulous -- when you happen to see the obsessive side of him, he pays quite a lot of attention to detail. It's not that he's concerned with anything working out because of a minor detail, just that he likes to know everything before he gets too deep in.
■ Passionate -- everyone needs to be passionate about something, right? It doesn't exactly matter for Azreal; he'll be passionate about whatever he wants to be. Just, don't try to tell him what to be passionate about. That usually doesn't work out well.
■ Entertaining -- this is what makes him tolerable to most people that are not his mother. He has a way of making people laugh or smile, even when he's not actually trying to. It's a mystery to him, but it might just be how odd he is.
■ Objective -- being pessimistic may be a downer, but it puts things into perspective. Azreal knows what it is that he has to do, even if he doesn't see much point in it? But, yeah, he knows his objectives and follows through with them.
■ Pleasing -- another thing that makes people actually like being with him. This is mostly for that side of him that needs to be in a certain of attention. He has a way of becoming what you want him to be.

[ Weaknesses ]

□ Needy -- Azreal needs to be around people, and it doesn't really matter who. This can be pretty annoying, because some people just want to be alone. And he won't let them.
□ Explosive -- there are times when he just explodes. As in, he just goes off on people. No one really knows why or how it happens, but he has certain triggers, that much is for sure. His psychiatrist is currently helping him figure out what they are.
□ Disturbed -- it's probably evident for those who have read his writing, but he's pretty disturbing human being. He doesn't always exude this, though, so it'd be hard to tell. There are times when he crumbles, and it can be very unpleasant for all parties involved.
□ Self-Control -- he has none. It's really as simple as that.
□ Mama's Boy -- Azreal has been dependent on his mother since the moment he was born. It probably seems odd, but she always did treat him like her baby.

[ Likes ]

■ Dancing -- it's surprising when you see one side of him, but he actually likes to dance. He didn't major in it because he isn't exactly the greatest dancer to grace the earth.
■ Blues -- his mother sang the Blues at clubs in her day, and she used to sing it to him as a lullaby. Now, she's a little stuck in the past, but that's all good and well, because it just means more Blues for him.
■ Writing -- while being prescribed by his psychiatrist, it helps him release whatever feelings he has. It's certainly better than him attacking people.
■ Fire -- something about it is just very intriguing to him. Though, it could have something to do with a certain incident that happened a few years ago. He, though, doesn't really remember it. So, don't bring it up.
■ Attention -- one side of him just loves attention. He eats it up. Remember, don't feed the trolls, but not feeding him is like assuring being attacked.

[ Dislikes ]

□ Being Alone -- bad things happen when he's alone. Azreal knows as much, considering he's been the cause of some of those bad things.
□ Being Interrupted -- it's a sure way for him to violent. So, don't. Just don't.
□ Light in his Eyes -- that's one of the triggers. He can't really explain it, but the sun beating into his eyes just takes the cake of pissing him off. But, it's gotta be like when someone is using their phone, and it reflects the light. That's really the only way it works.
□ Smoking -- his mother smokes, and while she finds ways to do it still, he's all about stopping her. The smoke feels like it's suffocating him, and he can't stand it.
□ Triggers -- what he doesn't like about them is that he doesn't know what they are. That, that just gets to him. If he doesn't know what to avoid, he doesn't know when he'll go off on someone, like his mother. He doesn't want to put his mother in harm's way, either.

[ History ]

Loretta Ferran and Marvin Jacobs were what you would call a very dysfunctional couple. While Loretta managed to be a functional drunk, her husband was not. He drank away most of the money he brought in, which forced Loretta to find means of employment. She hadn't exactly been able to qualify for much, what with her not actually going to college and dropping out of high school in her senior year. She took to singing in a club, which she's managed to forget the name of, where she met Azreal's biological father. The two of them hit it off, and had plans to run away together when she found out she was pregnant, until he died. She's never once really spoken about his real father, Azreal has never heard the story of his death. He mostly knows of how his supposed father died, though.

We've already established that Marvin Jacobs was not what you would call functional when he was under the influence. Now, imagine him working on the roof in that state. Yeah, he fell. Loretta explained the story while she read Azreal Humpty Dumpty. If you know the story, you kinda get how it ended for Marvin. Loretta didn't seem very saddened by this, despite the fact that she was then a single mother of a one year old. She actually threw a party, claiming he left on a business trip before actually reporting his death. Her first words upon finding his body? "Well, shit; you shoulda redid the roof sooner, Marvin."

From then on, Loretta pretty much spoiled Azreal. He was really the only man she loved that was left in her life, considering her parents had disowned her. So, with each year that passed, she clung on to the childish image of him, like he was still a three month old baby that needed to be cared for constantly. This is probably why he had so many issues as he got older. The two sides of him didn't show up until his first year of school. Loretta still drank and had picked up smoking, and she was one of those unhappy drunks.

Sure, every child is scared to leave their mother for their first day of school, so his tantrum had been no big deal. But, when he started yelling at the other students, the teachers became concerned.

Then, then he started using words he'd heard his mother saying when she decided to pour herself a drink. That put him in a time out, and pop goes Azreal. They spent the rest of the morning trying to find him, and the entire afternoon keeping in the classroom. These problem continued, but Loretta just babied him that much more. He didn't end up like most kids, though, because all that bitterness that came out of Loretta when she was drunk went straight to him.

As Azreal got older, the problems just increased. When Loretta finally caught on, she sent him to a psychiatrist in hopes of finding the cause of it. They got absolutely nowhere, but did manage to find that he was a pretty disturbed child. Maybe his mother had told him the story of his father's death one too many times. Either way, he was still thoroughly screwed in an ignorantly blissful kind of way. He continued his visits to his shrink, but his personalities began to develop more with each visit. His mother was perfectly capable of handling him, though. Perhaps she was the only person capable of dealing with him. He became that docile child again in her presence and everyone kinda wondered what she did for him to be like that. It was simple: she loved him.

In the eighth grade, things got serious. Everyone knows that middle school is that awkward time when you're learning about yourself and finding an interest in other people. Azreal had few friends, but one of them happened to be someone he took a more serious liking to. But, as things usually went for him, it did not end well. His friend found Azreal's newfound affections to be perplexing, and kinda gross. Casual games like spin the bottle were suddenly ruled off limits, much to Azreal's confusion. His pursuits were evaded by said friend talking to his parents, who later talked to Loretta. Now, Loretta has always been a very open person. So, she laughed in their faces when they seemed genuinely appalled. She laughed them out the door, but found a reason to get serious when they pulled a restraining order against Azreal.

Azreal doesn't deal with separation well. So to be forced to stay as far as possible from his friend and current love interest? Not happening, not ending well. He left school early one day, faking an illness but claiming that his mother was at work so that he'd have to leave on his own. He took the bus to center city, walked into the office building his friend's father worked at, and waited in his office. He managed to get in by distracting the secretary with fancy writing and poetry. Long story short, he left the man burning. The authorizes arrived, charges were pressed, and he was placed in Juvie for a year to think about what he'd done. Of course, that only made things worse.

When he got out, the first thing he did was join his mother in drinking. That was last time, as well. After realizing that his pretty words had managed to fixate a grown woman, he took it more seriously. He read, he wrote, and repeated. His mother was a little worried with his obsession, but soon found no need for a concern as he showed signs of toning down all his violent tendencies. They instead manifested themselves on a page, and not one his knuckles.Loretta went digging, and found the perfect place for her son.

Now, he's been attending AAA sing sophomore year.

[ Family ]

⊳ Loretta Jacobs -- mother -- alive
⊳ Marvin Jacobs -- father -- deceased

[ Other ] That year he probably should have repeated? Made it all up in summer school. Because, it was better than letting loose on the streets and being bored.

[ First Name ] Israel
[ Middle Name ] Grimme
[ Last Name ] Enoch
[ Nickname(s) ] Grimm, Real, Noch ⇢ Most just call him Grimm, because he is kinda grim. But him? If he could speak, he would likely just call himself Israel. He can't really speak up about not liking his nicknames, of course.

[ Age ] 17
[ Birthday ] December Twenty-Fifth
[ Grade ] Sophomore
[ Gender ] Male
[ Sexual Orientation ] Demisexual
[ Relationship Status ] Single ⇢ that is, if you can get him to even so much as look your way

❝Me, deary? I'm that shadow watching in the trees; the Big Bad Wolf❞

[ Department ] Archambault
[ Emphasis ] Glassblowing
[ Minor ] Painting

[ Appearance ]

[ Face Claim ] Stephen James Hendry

[ Eye Color ] Sea Glass Blue
[ Hair Color ] Eerie Black
[ Height ] 6'8" ⇢ say nothing about this
[ Weight ] 213 lbs
[ Vocal Attributes ] Good joke, asshole
[ Distinguishing Mark(s) ] Aside from the tattoos that cover his body? Try the stigmata burn marks on his neck. That, or his height. But it's best if you don't talk about either. There are just some things that set him off.

❝I'll fucking huff and I'll fucking puff, and I'll fucking blow you away❞

[ Personality ]

Israel is a special case. He's naturally a person of few words, well, any words. He's got this habit of breaking things, of just smashing. That violence, that aggression, it's everything that he can't say. Everything that he wishes he could just tell people, but instead he has only to show. He can only ever show how angry he is, and sometimes his showing involves smashing things. But, there was a time when he wasn't always just a bundle of rage, which there still are times like that. It was before all that shit happened to him, and only ever really occurs again when he sees his sisters, because he thinks they're all the family that matters to him. He's apathetic, in that sense. He doesn't quiet care about anyone but the twins and himself, and has made an exclusive bubble just for them and him. It's them against every single human being on the planet, in his opinion.

Though, Israel can be a pretty gentle guy. Minus the smashing. He finds wonder in things that are smaller than him which most everyone is but he'd never openly admit it to someone else not like he can. It's probably what makes it difficult for him to actually go off on a person, rather than his situation, because that's what pisses him off. He's so tired as being recognized as the "mute kid from TV" or the one with "the psycho-crazy parents." He kinda just wants to fade into the background and relax. He can certainly blame people, but he can't just blame anyone. Which is exactly why he takes his anger out on objects and occasionally people.

That sour look on his face? It's probably because he wants his space. He's not big on touching, unless you're his younger sisters, which wouldn't be likely. It's got more to do with what has happened when certain people have touched than the actual act of touching itself. He could just be a hateful person who basically wants to watch the world burn, but that can't be possible with the way he loves his sisters. It's just...you can't trust many people these days. They're all greedy and selfish, and he doesn't wanna have to deal with that, really.

[ Strengths ]

♦ Apathy
♦ Decisive
♦ Objective
♦ Intimidation
♦ Children ⇢ he's just really good with kids for some reason

[ Weaknesses ]

♢ His younger sisters ⇢ they'll likely be the death of him, the way he cares about the little ones. You could probably get him to do anything with them
♢ People
♢ His Parents
♢ His older brothers
♢ Silence ⇢ you can crack all the jokes you want, but don't let him catch you saying it to him.

[ Likes ]

♦ His younger sisters
♦ Grimme Tales ⇢ don't fucking laugh
♦ Fire
♦ Smoking ⇢ it's a guilty pleasure that he knows he should stop, but he honestly can't.
♦ Smashing things
♦ Reading

[ Dislikes ]

♢ Foster homes
♢ His parents
♢ Talking about his brands ⇢ it's like he's some kind of slave, and he's not about that.
♢ His older brothers
♢ People ⇢ he just can't

[ History ]

You know those stupid Lifetime movies based off of true stories? Israel's had one of those. His entire family has, actually. That's what you get for having two messed up parents. While the movie does a pretty good job of explaining things from the view of the general public, they always miss the fact that those that were involved had feelings as well.

Israel was the third to last child born to Elize and Bernard Enoch. Before him were five brother, of which included a set of triplets. All five boy were pretty much budding monsters, but their parents didn't seem to see it. Not in the way that they tortured the family dog, or in the way they beat on their youngest brother. After Israel came his younger sisters. Princesses the both of them were, and they took a strong liking to their youngest older brother. Though, there was an age difference of nearly ten years, which had been filled with him being the one to take all the beatings from his older siblings.

When Israel turned ten, the year his sisters were born, his parents joined a cult called the Old Religion. From what they had exposed their children to, Israel saw they did quite a lot of sacrificing, and sometimes they involved humans. But the thing that disturbed him about this most was the branding. The couple would brand the body parts they managed to dig out of graves before sacrificing them. But, it didn't stop there.

Apparently, there was a special rite of passage that his parents had to go through before they were full members of the Old Religion. They needed to brand a member of their family, to show a devotion. That person would stand out as a sacrifice within five months of the event, so his parents had to decide. They couldn't be too old, so his older brothers were out. They couldn't be too young, so his sisters were out. Which left him, at eleven years old. It was also convenient that he happened to be occupied by his grandfather in his glassblowing workshop.

See, glassblowing ran in the family, but only seemed to stop when Bernard took interest in the occult. With his older brothers showing no interest in the trade, Israel's grandfather saw him as a last resort, but was later amazed by the talent that he displayed at such a young age. So, it was that his grandfather allowed him to be in his workshop unattended, to make things for the store he ran. It was there that his parents found him.

He doesn't remember much of the actual event, aside from the pain. He can still feel that sensation of the metal searing his skin and his throat feeling like it was on fire. He remembers trying to scream, but instead staring at his parents while nothing but gurgling came out. He never found out why they chose his throat of all places, but he'll never forget that moment of terror, of realizing that he was being silenced. It was probably worse than having one's tongue cut out, but he'd never be able to tell you what it felt like.

His parents dragged him off to some motel, and held him there for a week before the police caught up to them. He never found out how they got caught, just that the police officers knocked down the door to find him sprawled out over the bed, unmoving. They thought he was dead, with the way he didn't seem to be moving. At any rate, it hit the news faster than he could blink, and suddenly people wanted to be around him like he was going out of style.

While he enjoyed the attention, he couldn't help but feel that something was off. Most of the people around him he'd never seen before, with notepads. He understood that some of them were actual detectives, but the rest were a mystery. Three months after the fact, in which he was still in the hospital, and one of his nurses showed him the movie. You can guess what his reaction was to watching someone reenact him being assaulted.

When he was finally able to attend school, he almost didn't go. He thought it would be unbearable, and he was right. He got into a fight within an hour of going back to school, and these kind of fights continued as he drifted through schools like a change of clothes. No one seemed to be willing to overlook the fact that he'd been through an extraordinarily tragic event. This followed him to his freshman year of high school, when he started getting his tattoos. His foster parents didn't seem to really care, so long as it kept people's attention on him. He learned later on that the only reason they'd agreed to watch over he and his younger sisters was because they brought a kind of fame to them, which fucking sucks. So when he expressed an interest in attending Aurelia, they were hooked on letting him go. The idea of being able to brag about it was too good to resist.

[ Family ]

♟ Elize Enoch ⇢ mother ⇢ incarcerated
♟ Bernard Enoch ⇢ father ⇢ incarcerated
♟ Jeran Enoch ⇢ brother ⇢ employed + single
♟ Jacob Enoch ⇢ brother ⇢ married + employed
♟ Leland Enoch ⇢ brother ⇢ attending college
♟ Marcus Enoch ⇢ brother ⇢ attending college + engaged
♟ Heaven Enoch ⇢ younger sister ⇢ attending pre-school
♟ Neveah Enoch ⇢ younger sister ⇢ attending pre-school
♟ Deran Hobbes ⇢ foster father
♟ Lisa Hobbes ⇢ foster mother

[ Other ] He's a very messy eater.

[ First Name ] Michal
[ Middle Name ] Janelle
[ Last Name ] Everett
[ Nickname(s) ] Hal -- It's either that, or Elle, but Hal is what she tends to go by most.

[ Age ] 16
[ Birthday ] March Tenth
[ Place of Birth ] Somewhere in France
[ Ethnicity ] There's a lot in her blood, but most people would refer to her family as Gypsies.
[ Grade ] Sophomore
[ Gender ] Female
[ Sexual Orientation ] Pansexual
[ Relationship Status ] Single

[ Department ] Archambault Visual Arts

[ Emphasis ] Sculpting -- [ Minor ] Oil Painting

[ Appearance ]

[ Face Claim ] Jasmine Sanders

[ Eye Color ] Powder Blue -- the thing is, she can't exactly see what everyone likes to freak out about. They say that her eyes are what stand out most, and she would never really know.
[ Hair Color ] Brown/Dirty Blonde -- it all really depends on if she's been running her hands through her hair after sculpting. Though, her hair also appears to be more brown after she's washed it. Other times, it's more blonde than brown.
[ Height ] 5'7"
[ Weight ] 156 lbs
[ Vocal Attributes ] Contralto -- her voice is pretty heavily accented, and gives off the quality like that of an audio recording. Like, that super freak song by Beyonce, on the album she dropped? People have told her that the girl speaking French on the track sounds just like her.
[ Distinguishing Mark(s) ] No, not really. I mean, does being blind count? That's pretty distinguishing, if you think about it.

[ Personality ]

Michal is a bit of curveball. You'd think that she'd be all docile and demure simply because she's blind, but most people have it wrong in that sense. She probably one of the most outgoing person you'll ever meet. While this may seem surprising, she was like that to begin with. She wasn't blind to start, no, but it doesn't mean that her entire personality should change just because of a little thing that happened years ago. No, she isn't the type to sulk about the loss of her sight, even if she still gets pissed thinking of the asshole who did it. But, yeah, she's still pretty happy with her life. She may have been a little pissy after the fact, but she decided to nut up, and move on. She believes that you shouldn't dwell on all the negative things, and focus on the positive. Unless, that negative thing is someone owing you. Then, then you dwell and get back what they owe you or more.

Michal has always had a certain flair for being vivacious. She draws attention not just with her looks, but with her ability to mingle with people. She doesn't need to see a person to talk to them. Warming up to people is no issue for her; she kinda just jumps right in. Of course, sometimes there are ulterior motives to her friendliness. Most times, she just wants to see what's up. Not literally, though. Despite the fact that she's blind, she's pretty independent. There was actually a time that she faked being able to see, just to get people to stop bothering her. She doesn't like the fact that people decided to "take pity" on her because she can't see. She thinks she's still perfectly capable, thank you very much.

While Michal is a bundle of energy, she does tend to take time to stop and think. She likes those moments just as much as everyone else. She finds a certain kind of tranquility that has been missing in her life for some time now, but it doesn't last long. She gets up and moving soon after, and it's a whirlwind of movement. But, one other thing to note is that she has a certain connection with violence and crime. She won't often speak of it, but she can be a boss ass bitch when she wants to be. That'd be a good thing to remember around her.

[ Strengths ]

◕ Hearing -- just because she's deaf, doesn't mean she can't hear what people say about it. It actually only means that she can hear slightly better. Lose one sense, and they all get better.
◕ Independence -- despite the fact that she's blind, Michal has a very firm independence. She only uses a cane or her seeing eye dog when she's feeling lazy, or just wants to mess with people.
◕ Nimble -- when she could see, she was pretty quick on her feet. It carried over to her lack of sight, and she has to say that she might be just a little bit better.
◕ Lying -- it's kinda in her blood, and she's been doing it for years.
◕ Dexterous -- she's pretty good with her hands, seeing as she is a sculptor. She's actually ambidextrous, but that was before the accident that took her sight. Just watch out if she's got a knife in her hand, yeah?

[ Weaknesses ]

◔ Obstacles -- not the mental kind, but the physical ones. A seeing eye dog and a cane can only help you avoid so much of what is out there. Cars, uh uh.
◔ Traffic -- it's not a very good idea to have a blind person cross the street. No, no.
◔ Family -- while she believes this is a vital thing in her life, she doesn't really notice that this could be a weakness. Her family isn't exactly a model family. Actually, let's face it, they're all criminals. She could be locked up for a long time if they were ever really caught. There was a close call a little while ago, but they managed to bullshit their way through it.
◔ Time -- she can't tell time, not if there's no ticking or dinging or ringing. It's the thing that gets to her, honestly.
◔ Emotions -- she has a hard time really letting her emotions show. She tends to let things just slip through her fingers if she really cares about them, but such is life. She knows that, but it still sucks. It's probably the one thing that makes her want to isolate herself from people.

[ Likes ]

◕ Sculpting -- it's probably one of the few things she can do without needing to see what she's doing. That, and she's gotten very good at it, so why not enjoy it?
◕ Braille -- she really likes the feel of Braille against her fingers, honestly.
◕ Coffee -- coffee is good, and keeps her going if she has to do a stakeout for something. Lattes are a must for those, y'know.
◕ Chocolate -- do you need to ask?
◕ Candles -- she likes the smell of them, guys. She may have trouble lighting them, but it works when she needs to focus. They kinda just center her.

[ Dislikes ]

◔ Helen Keller jokes -- bitch is famous. How you feel?
◔ Pity -- she hates when people decide to pity her. That need to feel fortunate and good about themselves is not something she can really can tolerate. Nah, son.
◔ Apples -- they make her throat itch
◔ Bananas -- one, nasty. Two, she doesn't really like to think of what she might look like eating one
◔ Her Cane -- she hates the fact that she has to knock it into stuff to know that, hello, there's something there.

[ History ]

Living nomadically means never really lingering. Having an ephemeral existence in any place at any given time. Always on the chase for the next big con, is how those of the Everett family lived. There were numerous name changes that resulted in the surname they hold now, but that is an entirely different story for whenever Michal will tell you she has time. Her parents, Serai and Antoine, were a couple that believed the world's greatest con was love. Which was funny, considering the two of them were madly in love at the time. They just didn't really see it, though. What they saw was a casual fling that worked in the favor of both parties, and was thus acceptable to them. It was during a con that they actually got married, having been using it as a cover to get into a particularly fancy venue. At any rate, there was a whole lot of shenanigans that lead to the birth of several children, among them being Michal.

Serai took an instant protectiveness to her daughter, despite having had two children beforehand. There was a certain innocence to her that she didn't want to be tainted, but that was likely to last in the life they chose. They raised her on the road, and showed her how it was done. As for her siblings, they'd had their lessons before she did, and were pretty excellent. Pretty soon, they were sneaking out all on their own. What did Antoine and Serai do? Throw them freaking parties. They were growing up! Best to encourage the behavior that made their living.

Everything was fine and dandy until Michal turned eight. It was her first real con, in which she picked out a target and her siblings and parents put their heads together to come up with a plan. It was a big holiday that day (she couldn't remember which because they'd just arrived in the country the day before and had assumed because of all the sales), so it would mean that they were to be provided with cover. Michal stayed at her post, among the many children holding sparklers at a park. Now, this is where things got very tricky.

She probably shouldn't look so serious. It might have been why the kid shoved the firecracker in her face. He probably only wanted to cheer her up, but that really only made her no less blind. The tricky part of this? It's that she remembers everything. From the little blossom of gunpowder, heat, and fire in her eyes to her screams and of those around her. She couldn't tell anyone who she was, considering her family had already set her plan in motion and she wasn't about to lose her first score to a little kid with a firecracker.

Her parents found her in the hospital, placed in intensive care. They fed the hospital officials some cheesy story and whisked her out of there. Getting her in the seeing eye dog program wasn't any easier, but done surprising fast. She was paired with a rather large dog, considering she used to be quite small, but the dog was sadly left in that country. She just had to adjust to the cane, despite the fact that they rarely let her do anything then. It was what forced her to sculpt most of her days away, what with the greatest concern being that they had spent a good deal of money on the cane and program (They weren't so bad that they were going to rob services for the disabled. Who do you think they are?).

They let her back out when she was fourteen, just after she'd received acceptance. While her parents were glad, they were more elated to have an excuse to go to the States. Interpol was pretty hot on their trail, what with them having pulled some very risky heists and cons. Like, conning ambassadors risky. Of course, they were pretty much in league with the Atlas', Serai's sister's family.

They had a short stop in Australia, where Michal met her cousins for the first time. It was suffice to say that they all got along pretty well, spending the summer pulling cons of their own constructs.

There was, however, one incident that they all swore never to mention. It really wasn't Michal's fault, since she couldn't necessarily see what was going on. She just walked the way they directed her. The whole crew managed to get caught by the police, including the "helpless blind girl". How'd they get out? One of her cousins faked a seizure and she walked into traffic. Hearing blaring horns was worthy being grabbed by her brother and hauling ass. Scattering in the winds, they regrouped in an old warehouse and made a (blood) pact to never, speak of such a blunder. It would only mean their parents would be disappointed in them. As a proud Gypsy, that was not in any way okay. They'd told their parents they were going out on a con, so they had to get something done. They pulled a classic "slipped coffee" and became a couple hundred dollars richer. They came back home with the excuse of really just "going out for practice." Their parents ate up every word.

While the time in Australia was a short summer, they were kinda solidified in the knowledge that every last of one of them would be a internationally wanted criminal. That's freaking cool, but also a hassle. So, the entire family put their sights on the States, signing the kids up for various educational institutions, and getting the hell out of Dodge.

They've been wrecking havoc ever since.

[ Family ]

⊳ Serai Everett -- mother
⊳ Antoine Everett -- father
⊳ Jenni Everett -- older brother
⊳ Yacob Everett -- older brother
⊳ Myra Everett -- older sister
⊳ Sansa Everett -- younger brother
⊳ Siciliy Everett -- younger sister

[ Other ] Her seeing-eye dog? Yeah, she tends to use Einstein most when she's at Aurelia. Taking him out in public makes him uncomfortable. She knows that he won't fuck up, but she's not sure about the people around her.

( ♣ ) ᴀ ᴅᴇʟɪɢʜᴛғᴜʟʟʏ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜ ᴛᴇᴍᴘʟᴀᴛᴇ
↘ (view spoiler)[Iғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪsʜ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴛᴇᴍᴘʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴀsᴋ. Cᴏᴘʏɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ, ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴇsᴜʟᴛ ɪɴ ᴍᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏʀᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴғʀᴏɴᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ. Pʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʙᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴀᴛ. (hide spoiler)]
↘ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ COMPLETE!

↘Atlas Melvin Underwood↙

[ Age ] Twenty-four -- [ Gender ] Masculine, female design
[ dob ] August Ninth;2:30 am - [ sexual leaning ] demisexual
[ pob ] Capitol, Itola -- [ relationship status ] happily single

katya kulyzhka - brunet - blue eyes - 5'3" - 145 lbs - ambiguous genitalia
◊▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬►(view spoiler)[Atlas is, well, not like his brothers. He's been cursed with the unlucky occurrence of feminine features. He's not entirely female once you get past his torso, but his looks very much like one. He used to rebel against the idea of being mistaken for a female, but no longer cares about it. As such, he's not as popular with the girls as his brothers happen to be. But, then again, he isn't all that worried.

Atlas is a very appealing person to observe, though. Brown tendrils of hair that stop around his chest, glowing blue eyes that he inherited from his mother, and lithe limbs. While he isn't the tallest of the bunch, he's perfectly capable of kicking ass if the need should arise. He's actually one of the faster of his siblings, but let them know that. He thinks most of them are sore losers. But, getting back to the topic at hand, he's totally fine with being referred to as beautiful, rather than handsome. He's come to accept that that's just how things are now.

Since this is so, Atlas still wears male clothing, but every once in a while he'll pull out a dress or two. It's not a likely thing to happen, but it does. But, generally, he wears clothes that are pretty form fitting and easy to move around in. (hide spoiler)]◄▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬◊


[ ravenous ; overly affectionate ; cruel ; dismissive ; very impatient ]

If you wanna be serious about this, Atlas is probably the most ravenous of his siblings. He has an intense need for pretty much everything, especially blood. It's probably part of what makes him so dangerous. That, and he becomes a little uncontrollable around blood. If anyone was worried about him siring children, they kind of forgot about it when they first saw him feed. He still has difficulty with restraint in that regards. He's been kept on an impressively strict feeding schedule, but like mentioned before, he's not just hungry for blood. Which leads into his overly affectionate mannerisms. The person that is mostly exposed to this happens to be Killian, probably because he's the youngest. But, he doesn't have much restraint when it comes to those he loves. It goes without saying that hugs are definitely on the list of things that he gives out, and kisses, too. He's the kind of person that does well in showing his love for others. The seemingly innocent appearance he has can turn his affections into a more misguided thing, and he tends to use this against his brothers quite often. But he isn't all hunger and love.

Atlas can be cruel. He has a way of making you feel special before making your realize that you're anything but special. He'll terrorize you in the oddest of ways, and break you down until there is nothing left but the barest parts of your soul. You could say that that's the meaning of true evil, but he had to learn from somewhere, right? Just don't ask him about it, and maybe he won't break every bone in your body. While he still has that charm that makes you feel special, he can be pretty dismissive. If you have nothing to offer him, he will ignore you. Your presence will be that of a ghost, and you just fade away. He can't actually make you fade from memory; that's not possible. But, people will be wary of you for a while. At least until Atlas has decided that it's okay. As the second son, he likes to reflect the prior feelings of dismissing that his parents had at one point reserved for him. He wasn't totally important after his older brother's birth, and the development of his differences only seemed to make things worse for his parents as a whole. So, yeah, they didn't exactly show much they loved him. Which brings us back to his overly affectionate nature and need to touch pretty much everyone.

From everything you may have just read, Atlas is a decidedly not-so-nice person. But the thing that really weighs against whatever good deed he could do is his impatience. If you don't move fast enough with whatever he sent you to do, he will get very...upset with you. Upset to the point that he may or may not break a limb? His reactions tend to vary, but his tantrums are something to look out for.

[ likes ] blood, sweets, the chase, hugs and kisses -- [ dislikes ] waiting, his feeding schedule, being told what to do, restraint -- [ strengths ] speed, obviously strength, his appearance, lying -- [ weaknesses ] impatience, self-restraint, blood lust

[ Relationships ]
「♦ mother -- Gwendolynn -- alive -- love: ▪▪▪▪▪
︱♦ father -- Georg -- status -- love: ▪▪▪▪▫
︱♦ brother -- Troy -- alive -- love: ▪▪▪▪▪
︱♦ brother -- Lucian -- alive -- love: ▪▪▪▪▪
︱♦ brother -- name -- alive -- love: ▪▪▪▪▪
︱♦ brother -- name -- alive -- love: ▪▪▪▪▪
︱♦ brother -- name -- alive -- love: ▪▪▪▪▪
︱♦ brother -- Jack -- alive -- love: ▪▪▪▪▪
︱♦ brother -- Felix -- alive -- love: ▪▪▪▪▪
︱♦ brother -- Aiden -- alive -- love: ▪▪▪▪▪
︱♦ brother -- Killian -- alive -- love: ▪▪▪▪▪

Atlas' birth, while still celebrated, wasn't as grand as his older brother's. He often found himself in the shadow of the beautifully blonde headed boy. For this alone made him a bitter child, the spoiled brat that still wanted more than he had. Eventually, he grew out of it, and then found himself in another predicament. He began to show some changes in his body that didn't really work out well with the usual forms of puberty. To be exact, he began to look more like a girl. Which was odd, considering he'd been a boy for much of his life. When these changes developed, his parents could only hope to ignore it until it went away. Only, it wasn't going to go away.

So, Atlas was then faced with the challenges of being a male with the-- mostly--female body. While it was the thing of every odd child's wet dreams, it was by no means something that he enjoyed. He may not have had all the physical changes of a female, he was very much treated like one. He was ignored by his parents, rarely spoke with his brother, and this stretched on until he was sixteen. It was customary for the princes to be fed at this time, or so he'd been told, and it was time for him to be fed. That first drop of blood was sort of an awakening, and he quickly drained the human that had been given to him before turning on the next. Then the next. And another. And some more.

You could say that he had a hard time stopping, and was then again shoved into the hole they pulled him out of until he calmed down. It became a habit to be thrown back in, but he thought that they were at least paying attention to him. His other brothers were born, and he became just as hungry for their love and attention as he was hungry for blood. Killian, being the last, got most of his attention. Imagine his younger siblings' surprise when they saw him come back from his trips from his hole.

Recently, though, he's been far more in control. Still incredibly blood-thirsty, but in more control than he was before. He has a habit of hanging on to his siblings, but it can only get better from here, right?

template inspired by Paro, Baa, Jenn, and Ku.

( ♣ ) ᴀ ᴅᴇʟɪɢʜᴛғᴜʟʟʏ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜ ᴛᴇᴍᴘʟᴀᴛᴇ
↘ (view spoiler)[Iғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪsʜ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴛᴇᴍᴘʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴀsᴋ. Cᴏᴘʏɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ, ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴇsᴜʟᴛ ɪɴ ᴍᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏʀᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴғʀᴏɴᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ. Pʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʙᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴀᴛ. (hide spoiler)]
↘ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ COMPLETE!

↘Noir Kristoff Delacorte↙

[ Age ] Twenty-Three --- [ Gender ] Masculine Structure
[ dob ] October Third ; 1:30 am -- [ sexuality ] demisexual
[ pob ] Lycon, France -- [ relationship status ] newly single

dylan o'brien -- brunet -- walnut brown -- 5'6" -- 160 lbs -- moles/lips

[ Weapons ] shotgun, metal baseball bat [ attire ] flannel, jeans, sneakers, beanie [ inventory ] two water bottles, small backpack, three packs of ammunition, nearly dead cellphone

[ sarcastic ; pessimistic ; inventive ; objective ; potentially villainous ]

Noir has always been a sarcastic son of a bitch, and he damn well knows it. Sarcasm is possibly his third language at this point in his life, and he sees it come out more and more with the recent apocalypse. It could be that he's trying to tell it to people straight: they're going to die, but he doesn't really have the heart to. So, he finds ways by being possibly the most pessimistic person in whatever group he might fall into. Yeah, sure, people tend to dislike him for it, but they know better than to think so positively. The world has gone to shit, and nothing is sunshine and gumdrops. He makes them see that, and makes them realize that they should keep their cool if they want to stay alive. Getting overly excited about all the good things these days could get you killed. It might not seem like the best thing in the world to have someone who's such a downer on your side, but it helps to have someone make the obvious that much more obvious: not everyone will make it. You can't save everyone. You could lose yourself at any time, and you'd have no way to stop it.

Aside from being known by his sarcasm and pessimism, he's pretty inventive. He finds solutions to problems, even while focusing on the possibility of failure. Most people are curious as to how that's possible, but it's partly because he's pessimistic that he manages to figure something out. He thinks of every possible way something can fail, and manages to pick something that either doesn't at all, or not too much. His pessimism makes him incredibly objective, which is good in a situation like this. He knows exactly what he needs to do, and what he could do to mess things up for himself and others. That being said, he's always really had the potential to be...villainous. If someone does something that he thinks jeopardizes his safety, he isn't likely to hesitate in eliminating them as a threat altogether. He thinks the worst of people these days, and thus brings out the worst of himself. If he were to have the option of leaving someone behind, he wouldn't hesitate to take it. Though, he often makes comments that have everyone rattled not many people see that potentially disturbed nature of his. Maybe they've all just been waiting for something more viable to believe it.

[ likes ] apples, video games, cola, reading -- [ dislikes ] oranges, clearly zombies, most people, guns -- [ strengths ] decisive, creative, resourceful, objective -- [ weaknesses ] maybe disturbed, pessimistic, a little apathetic

[ Relationships ]
「♦ mother -- Lyvianna -- deceased -- love: ▪▪▪▪▪
︱♦ father -- Andre -- deceased -- love: ▪▪▪▪▫
︱♦ older brother -- Geran -- missing -- love: ▪▪▪▪▪
︱♦ fiancée -- Isabel Bonaparte -- deceased -- love: ▪▪▪▪▪

Noir Delacorte was born to a seemingly exceptional family on a seemingly peaceful day. His mother, Lyvianna, had already moved into the hospital when she went into labor and was quickly moved to be aided by a doctor in the course of her birthing. Things had sailed along smoothly for the woman, and she was said to have been expecting twins. The only problem was, however, that there weren't twins. Just a single child. Everyone wondered what had happened to the other child, until a frightening conclusion was made: the child that had been born had eaten the other within the womb. It made sense in all minds, considering the second child had been in the womb only a month prior. Or, at least when Lyvianna had had her last sonogram. She carried on afterwards as of nothing had happened, and decided to accept the child that she'd birthed, rather than be revolted by the idea of it eating its twin.

From there, Noir had a pretty solid childhood. Nothing too dramatic, or serious, but there was the move to Las Vegas. His father, Andre, had taken a job opportunity within the States, and moved the entire family with him. He couldn't bear to leave his wife and kids alone, or to be alone, really. Lyvianna only came because she wanted to be sure that her husband wouldn't stray away from her. Geran and Noir adjusted well to the new change, taking it in stride for as best a thirteen year old and seven year old could. The two got along very well, so it was rare that they weren't seen in some proximity of one another.

Noir's first crush was a fiery brunette who hailed from New York. She'd come to the city with her mother, who lived a fairly nomadic life up to that point. They got to be incredibly close, and began dating in her second summer there. At seventeen and finally experiencing his first love, he'd felt that he'd marry her. Which exactly what he promised when they graduated. She attended a local college while he went straight to work to get her that diamond ring. He still took online courses, but it meant nothing to him if it stopped him from being able to save money. They moved in together when they turned twenty, and were riding out the long haul--almost to the amount he needed--when shit hit the fan.

The world went to ruin, and the first priority was finding their families. They went all over Las Vegas, teaming up with strangers only to split up due to different goals, and what they found was horrifying. Noir's father and mother had shot each other, to keep from turning. They couldn't allow for that to happen to themselves. Isabel's mother, on the other hand, was eaten alive. They found what was left of her in the kitchen, a knife on the floor beside her. Realizing that they were on their own, they set out to find other survivors. Being alone with just themselves didn't seem safe, and they found it only in numbers.

Isabel, however, didn't make it any group that Noir joined after. She just gave up after a point, standing stock still despite how much he screamed for her to move, to climb the ladder and get off the street. He watched her put the gun in her mouth and shot herself. He was still screaming himself hoarse by the time night had fallen, and stayed in the area for days. He went without eating, and slept little. Until, finally, someone found him that way. Nearly shot him, too. They pulled him into their group, and he's been close to a walking corpse ever since.

credit for the template inspiration goes to Paro, Jenn, Baa, and Koi

( ♣ ) ᴀ ᴅᴇʟɪɢʜᴛғᴜʟʟʏ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜ ᴛᴇᴍᴘʟᴀᴛᴇ
↘ (view spoiler)[Iғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪsʜ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴛᴇᴍᴘʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴀsᴋ. Cᴏᴘʏɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ, ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴇsᴜʟᴛ ɪɴ ᴍᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏʀᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴғʀᴏɴᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ. Pʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʙᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴀᴛ. (hide spoiler)]
↘ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ COMPLETE!

↘Jedekiah Geran Delacorte↙

[ Age ] Twenty-Five -- [ Gender ] Masculine Structuring
[ dob ] September First ; 1 am --- [ sexuality ] pansexual
[ pob ] a small village, Itola -- [ relationship status ] single
[ Social Stratum ] lower class -- [ occupation ] stable hand

henry cavill -- brown hair -- electric blue eyes -- 6'6" -- 178 lbs -- eyes
◊▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬►(view spoiler)[Jed is a specially attractive man, in the way that he moves being a whole other feral level. He's poised and collected in a manner that people might see to be a front, but not everyone can be so sure. He's not often confronted with people willing to openly admit the nature of how attractive he is, but it's usually through subtle hints that he finds anything out. Jed has always been considered a tall person, and built for the work that involves a lot of manual labor. He, however, does have a gentle side to him that his height tends to hide. Physical work is something he keeps ingrained in his daily routine, mostly to keep fit. He's the type of person to want to stay in shape, just so that he wouldn't have to worry about long term affects to his health. Jed speaks a slight drawl, usually at the end of his sentences. He isn't of any mental disorders, but it tends to happen. Not because he does it on purpose, either.

Jed tends to dress in clothing that best suits his work, and is rather easy to move around in. It's usually form fitting and earthy in the color sense. Not for any spiritual reason, but because his clothing gets dirty pretty easily. (hide spoiler)]◄▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬◊


[ mostly reserved ; untrusting ; painfully blunt ; speculative ; cynical ]

There's a reason that Jed has so few friends, but it's not because he's a jerk. Which, while he can be at times when he lacks a certain consideration, it's mostly because he tends to stick to himself. He doesn't much like going out of his way just to get cozy with another person, and finds it difficult to connect well with people. This doesn't really apply to family, though, as he feels that he's obligated to be close to them. But, other people are an entirely different story. It isn't that he can't stand people, just that prefers to be alone, or not in the company of many people. Which leads to how untrusting he is. It takes him a while to get to really trust a person, and at that, he won't trust them fully. You have to prove your worth if you want him to trust you, and at best, you won't get to be considered a friend. In all honesty, most people tend to hold that against him, his lack of friendliness. But he couldn't care less about that.

If there's something else that people don't like about him, it's how honest Jed is. He's not one to hold back any bit of the truth when you ask for it. It's usually why everyone goes about warning people not to talk to him truthfully, to give him any important details you want hidden. He has a policy, though; he isn't that inconsiderate. He believes that information that other people give him isn't his to share unless they have explicitly told him so. So, when he does tell information about a person, it's because they've told him to. It isn't his fault if it comes back to bite them in the ass. But, sometimes you don't have to tell him anything for him to find out. He can make assumptions and guesses based on things that he sees, and he isn't one to hold back what's on his mind. He'll pretty much tell you what he has to say, and even if his guess is wrong, it's not like he cares. In that instance, most of his speculations involve the discrediting of how sincere a person is. He doesn't see many people capable of sincerity, and he usually does himself good by avoiding others. There's just something about the way he says he doesn't trust a person that brings about confrontation among all parties. And it's no surprise that he walks away relatively unharmed.

[ likes ] solitude, quiet, rain, beef stew, horses -- [ dislikes ] crowds, loud noises, people who try to hard -- [ strengths ] lifting heavy objects, horse-back riding, child care, farming, archery -- [ weaknesses ] family, conversations, relationships, lying

[ Relationships ]
「♦ mother -- Aarona -- sickly -- love: ▪▪▪▪▪
︱♦ father -- Jacobi -- deceased -- love: ▪▪▪▪▫

The real world is a harsh and unjust place, and Jed will gladly tell you so. From the moment of his birth, he'd had to fight. He'd had to struggle for every breath that came into his lungs, and even when he'd gotten older and used to this struggle, he had to worry about being able to work and continue walking. He certainly didn't have the worst past to look back on, but it wasn't all good and happy.

By the time he was five, his parents had decided that it was time to name him, since he hadn't died yet. They figured it would be fitting since he'd survived for so long, and shortly after he was named, they began to teach him the little bit of educational substance that they knew. He could read very little by the time he was seven, but could certainly wash wheat and do chores like any child that might have been older than him. He didn't pay much attention to anything other than what he was told to do, and maybe that was why he'd been so close to death that time.

At nine, and living close to a border, bandits had a habit of sneaking into villages. This particular group got bold, and decided that rather than raid at night when everyone was too tired from work to retaliate, came during the day. Jed didn't really see the swarm of bandits swinging their weapons as they made moves to towards the fields. While he didn't, his father did. The older man rushed his wife into the house, and went back to look for his son. Jed was too immersed in his work to take note of the shrieks and dings of blade on flesh and bone. His father came rushing to him, and Jed only looked up in time to watch a sword skewer his father. The old man could only shout for him to run, and Jed was gone.

Justice was never directed towards the bandits, the guard having just written it off as the unintelligible gibberish of a commoner. Jed just had to go through the pain of losing his father and never really getting the justice that he deserved. You could say that he was robbed of a lot of things as a nine year old, including his mother. She just withered away, but she certainly didn't die. She was too stubborn to just pass over like that after losing her husband. That being said, she did fall ill.

Fast forward seven years, and the bandits are back. The villagers had had enough with the criminals, and decided to make a stand. At this point, Jed was a remarkable young man, and immediately decided to join them. That was his form of getting the justice his family deserved, but when all was said was done, it wouldn't bring his father back. Once the whole ordeal was done, he returned to his mother's side and stayed for two more years. When he realized that the woman was a lost cause, just a husk that moved in routine.

At eighteen, he set off for the capitol, and for work. He found it in the royal stables, surprisingly. He's been working there ever since, and he's still not too sure about the royal family. They seem just a little...off to him.

template inspired by Paro, Baa, Jenn, and Ku.

wow, so ugh.

( ♣ ) ᴀ ᴅᴇʟɪɢʜᴛғᴜʟʟʏ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜ ᴛᴇᴍᴘʟᴀᴛᴇ
↘ (view spoiler)[Iғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪsʜ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴛᴇᴍᴘʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴀsᴋ. Cᴏᴘʏɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ, ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴇsᴜʟᴛ ɪɴ ᴍᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏʀᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴғʀᴏɴᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ. Pʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʙᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴀᴛ. (hide spoiler)]
↘ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ COMPLETE!

↘Arvylle Lestrade Feiyah↙

“ＭＯＴＨＥＲ ＯＦ ＴＨＥ ＮＩＧＨＴ”

[ Age ] Unknown/Immortal -- [ Gender ] Feminine Design
[ dob ] April Eleventh ; 6 pm -- [ sexual leanings ] gray asexual
[ pob ] outside of Athoria -- [ relationship status ] very single
[ Species ] Witch -- [ Coven ] None, she prefers to go it alone
[ occupation ] brothel owner/pimp [ familiar ] Hannibal, a fox

emmy rossum -- auburn hair -- golden eyes -- 6'1" -- 148 lbs -- her eyes
◊▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬►(view spoiler)[Arvylle has always been a woman with sensual charms. Her appearance is appealing to all eyes, and seems to produce a sense of competition from most women in her wake. Though, she has always been concerned about her looks. A creature of vanity, she has no intentions of ever revealing how old she truly is, but some say that she may be older than Athoria itself. She thus armed with intelligence to match the sophisticated air that she walks with. Her arrogance can be seen in her gait and heard in her manner of speaking.

She's lithely limbed, as though she were intended to be for stealth. There were rumors before that she was a dancer, way back when, but no one is quite sure of how accurate that would be. And, just as sensual as she is, so voice tends to be. It has a bit of a drawl to it, with just the light hints of a condescending tone that you can't really tell is there. Most people just don't care to notice it, as they rarely focus on what she's saying, as all their attention to driven to the way her lips move. (hide spoiler)]◄▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬▬◊


[ charming ; wise ; passive ; seemingly apathetic ; maliciously kind ]

Arvylle has always succeeded in being that charming girl that practically waltzes her way into your life. It's a part of her that she's never really left behind, and has a way of using it on those around her. You'll be so charmed, you might question if it's magic or not. But, then again, this charm could very well be magic. Before, it used to be just a whisper of innocence, but now it holds a sort of demonic persuasion to it, and not many people can really place it. Then again, not many people were alive then that are now that might have known her before everything. Sometimes, though, that innocence seeps out and threatens to break the whole fragile façade, persona--whatever you wish to call it--that she's had for nearly centuries. But, in her charm lies wisdom that is only possible if you've lived as long as she has. She could tell you stories of her past, and call every single one of them cautionary tales. That could be why so many young women come to her for solace, usually in times of romantic troubles. They assume that she would know, and she certainly does, but her knowledge isn't by any means limited to that of romantic affairs.

When confrontations arise, Arvylle tends to be passive and relatively neutral. She prefers not to get involved in affairs that don't call for her intervention, but sometimes she ends up in the mix of things. She can be surprisingly calm on the surface, but usually a boiling mix of aggression underneath. But, she's always willing to bow down, not literally though. She prefers to keep herself of the lists of hatred that some people would love to fill, but her lack of involvement tends to make that a bit difficult. Making enemies does her no good, but neither is making friends. She tends to be apathetic to the plights of others, looking at their problems in a detached manner--even if some might have mirrored the problems she faced long ago. Being detached from others keeps her guarded, and unable to be hurt again. She's experienced her fair share of physical and emotional pain, and she would prefer not to have repeat performances of either. So, let it be said that she will always be that neutral third party.

Kindness from Arvylle can be seen as a transcendent new form of kindness. She isn't kind to you unless it benefits her in the long run, but that kind of benefit is usually from your death. While she does have something to gain from watching a person suffer and struggle, watching them prosper gives her just as much gain. In fact, more. She not interested in you personally, but your soul. Your soul holds quite a lot of things. Do not mistake her kindness for something less then genuine, because she will definitely see to it that you know what she's like when she's not kind. But, be weary of that smile and that hint of pity in her voice.

[ likes ] smoking her pipe, drinking, profits, dancing, silk, pastries -- [ dislikes ] the church, most men, sunshine, cold water -- [ strengths ] wisdom, organization, spells, potions, problem-solving, intimidation -- [weaknesses ] dancing, children, ale, memories

[ Relationships ]
「♦ mother -- Gwendol -- deceased -- love: ▪▪▪▪▪
︱♦ father -- Arvil -- deceased -- love: ▪▪▫▫▫
︱♦ ex lover -- Lucifer Arden -- deceased -- love: ▫▫▫▫▫
︱♦ son --Wren -- unknown -- love: ▪▪▪▪▪

Remember those aforementioned rumors, the one where she was a dancer? Well, at one point, that had been more than rumors of a better time. It was long before Athoria's walls were brought into fruition, when the Church had just begun to grow like a newly raised sapling. She was sweet and innocent, and she was happy. It was the time when Arvylle could still actually remember her past, before she sealed it away. She had a certain affinity for dancing, and had a bright future in making it a career, to travel the lands and entertain people with the fluid motions of her soul expressed.

She had always been a pretty girl, so there was never a real surprise when a suitor would come knocking on her door. But she, just like any other girl in her small village, dreamed of wedding the sole son of the wealthiest man within their reach. While the boy was still incredibly handsome, they seemed to miss the concept of his horrendous personality, and were in love with the dream of him sweeping them off their feet than they were with him. So, when the silver tongued Lucifer Arden knocked on her door, she fainted. At only sixteen, it was something that was to be expected in such an instance.

By this point, she had no real knowledge of her lineage, the part of her that made things seem that much more magical. She'd left it forgotten in the stories her mother told her when she was younger, during a time when creatures of the night had to keep themselves hidden in their trees and caves. She felt like she was living one of those fateful stories when she was with Lucifer, and her parents couldn't have been more delighted. But, she was forced to make a choice.

Dance as she dreamed, or stay with Lucifer.

So foolishly in love was she, that she gave up her dream to stay with the man that she loved. And while he didn't show how much he loved her publicly, she believed that the two of them would be married. So when the first wagons left her behind, she didn't cry or feel much regret. She was too caught up in a tragic lie that happened far too often with Lucifer Arden. She would realize this, however, far too late.

See, Lucifer had a certain habit of bedding the young girls of the town who were so helplessly in love with him, and then just leaving them to deal with whatever came later. When Lucifer had finally broken off the game he so loved with Arvylle, the girl was distraught and ashamed. She was no longer a whole vessel that a man would want, not unless he was a fool or incredibly kind, but she doubted such a man existed within the village she lived in.

When the next wagon left, she was on it, and out to find the dream she'd previously given up a year before. Then seventeen, she made her short trip of fame until it was discovered that she was pregnant--out of wedlock. Disgraced, she was removed from the institution she performed at, and her dream was shattered. In that instant, not much unlike the moment that Lucifer had broken her heart, she experienced a disparity that threatened to swallow her very existence. How does someone deal with that, is what one might think to ask. The answer is simple: they don't.

Let it stand, for the record, that Arvylle did not lose her sanity. She instead gained clarity to the evil that was Lucifer's namesake. How the Church didn't catch on was a wonder, but Arvylle had thus lost all faith in the entirety of the establishment. It was also in this time that she discovered her lineage, and the Magik that lay hidden deep in her veins. She experimented with a passion, until she came to the level at which she felt she was prepared. But, even that didn't seem enough and she was running out of time.

So, in her haste, she summoned a creature more twisted than the foe she wished to face and cast her die for an eternity in Hell. She figured she was already destined for the fiery landscape with the child she carried having been born outside of any marriage, not that she would have any such thing then. So, when the demon asked for her soul jokingly, not believing her to be so convicted in her vengeance, she accepted and had to stop herself from promising the soul of her unborn child. She had yet to decide if she loved or despised the child, but figured that she would know upon the retched creature's birth.

She returned to her village at the crux of her pregnancy and lay siege to the land. In a glorious blaze of smoke, death, and blood, she strung Lucifer up by his genitals until they tore away from his body, and mutilated him. She had no real cares for the dead that lay at her feet, noting that she'd killed all of his lovers and family. She did, however, leave out the children and her previous friends.

Her labor started just as Lucifer drew his last breath, and she felt as though she could give her soul all over again just to relive that moment. She gave birth on the full moon, bathed in the light and surrounded red, red, red. It was then that she decided to seal her memories, and to give her child up. She was no longer a human being fit for family, she realized. She looked over all she had done, and it terrified her. So fickle was the poor girl that she could scarcely decide on what to name the poor bastard child.

Arvylle traveled for two weeks until she came to a place she deemed suitable for her son. She left him in a feeding trough, and never looked back. She stopped, yes, when he cried, but she never looked back. She doesn't remember the experience enough for it to bring her to tears, but she always feels as though she'll break down if she hears a child so much as sniffle.

( ♣ ) ᴀ ᴅᴇʟɪɢʜᴛғᴜʟʟʏ ғɪᴇɴᴅɪsʜ ᴛᴇᴍᴘʟᴀᴛᴇ
↘ (view spoiler)[Iғ ʏᴏᴜ ᴡɪsʜ ᴛᴏ ᴜsᴇ ᴛʜɪs ᴛᴇᴍᴘʟᴀᴛᴇ, ᴘʟᴇᴀsᴇ ᴀsᴋ. Cᴏᴘʏɪɴɢ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ғᴏʀᴍᴀᴛᴛɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴄʀᴇᴅɪᴛ, ᴏʀ ᴜsɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ᴘᴇʀᴍɪssɪᴏɴ, ᴡɪʟʟ ʀᴇsᴜʟᴛ ɪɴ ᴍᴇ ʀᴇᴘᴏʀᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀɴᴅ ᴄᴏɴғʀᴏɴᴛɪɴɢ ʏᴏᴜ. Pʟᴇᴀsᴇ ʙᴇ ᴀᴡᴀʀᴇ ᴏғ ᴛʜᴀᴛ. (hide spoiler)]
↘ ᴡᴇ ᴀʀᴇ COMPLETE!

Athoria's walls went up, and the nineteen year old girl that went in brought trouble on the wind. While she had erased the memories of her child, and found a way to replace them with that of his death, she had not erased the deeds she had done. She changed herself as a precaution, to hold herself in place. She became what many viewed as a whore, a mother, a guide, and so much more as Athoria grew to it's present nature.

The one thing that has changed for her is her relationship with the Church. Back when it was struggling organization of lunatics, she had a firm belief in them, and they were so captured by her. As it stands, she's been an enemy of theirs as old as they are. Of course, no one really knows how old she is to begin with, but hail her as one of their oldest enemies.

template inspired by Paro, Baa, Jenn, and Ku.

Sure, it's not mine, but a general one used in a group. The original creator was pretty okay with it being used outside of the group.

No problem~