Actually, four characters per post sounds like a good idea.

Twitch was my second attempt to write a video game character into a sheet. The LoL lore isn't usually great, but damn, do I like this rat.
[hider=Who let all these plants survive?][b]Name:[/b] Twitch.

[b]Universe:[/b] League of Legends.

[b]Appearance:[/b] As quoted by an NPC, "IT LOOKED LIKE A GIANT GODSDAMN RAT! ...WITH A CROSSBOW! [...] YOU'RE NOT LISTENING! IT'S A HOMICIDAL, PSYCHOPATHIC, GIANT FREAKING RAT! IN A WAISTCOAT!" In-game art can be seen [url=http://img3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20140422190318/leagueoflegends/images/9/9a/Twitch_OriginalSkin.jpg]here[/url]. You can peruse an animated model of his creepy wiggling [url=http://www.lolking.net/models/?champion=29&skin=0]here[/url]. 

[b]Personality:[/b] Mocking, rude and gross. Twitch cares little for anyone but himself and laughs regularly at petty jokes and grievances. A kind of vaguely malicious whimsy accompanies most of his interactions. Twitch is particularly selfish concerning possessions, nicking and hoarding anything he fancies and quite resistant to having it taken away, although left to his own devices Twitch is liable to grow bored of his trinkets and abandon them. The taking or damaging of his alchemical projects tend to illicit a similar but more violent reaction. Spontaneous bursts of paranoia sometimes lower his mood into something resembling aggression, but his suspicion of others is usually quite subdued. Being shamelessly disgusting is Twitch's full-time occupation, and he takes quite some pride in activities like collecting toenails and licking various objects. Although he is completely fearless of disease and poisoning, Twitch is disdainful of sunlight, plants and anything clean. Accustomed to teamwork from his employment in the League of Legends under the Council of Zaun, Twitch has in recent years become more open to the idea of allying with others for his own benefit.

[b]Skills:[/b] Twitch is an accomplished sneak. Very flexible and quite strong, he can maneuver quickly and silently through cramped, dark, cold, or otherwise hostile spaces, and disassemble his crossbow to follow. Climbing, swimming and hopping are all skills he uses to get around. The rat does need to be careful of giving his presence away to his more alert victims through his smell, however, and his size lends itself to poor stamina. Once he reveals his presence, usually with exclamations of glee, Twitch proves himself a formidable marksman, specialising in close, crowded, hectic skirmishes. Though his eyesight and chosen weapon are poor for distanced sniping, he supplements them with keen hearing and smell in short range. Twitch's body is a deliberate Petri dish of every kind of parasite and pestilence. While most of these don't last long outside of the virulent hive of Twitch's body, he has no hesitations about weaponising this trait, using his bodily fluids to encourage infection; Any wound he has scratched, spit or sneezed in should be very carefully cleaned to prevent gangrene. On a related note, Twitch is a peculiarly talented alchemist of organic substances, improvising dubiously functional fluids from any materials he may find.

[b]Brief Bio:[/b] Zaun is a city where magic and technology run unrestrained by law and ethics, where strange people hiding under thick smog produce stranger creations, in purpose or by accident. Twitch represents a case of the latter. Zaun's labyrinthine streets overlay an even more grimly mysterious world of tunnels and pipes. The collective runoff from rampant experimentation pools in the sewers, and at some point in the past a rat suffered a scientifically unprecedented mutation somewhere in the depths. Whether Twitch is this rat or its offspring is unknown, but there is no creature quite like him in all of Valoran*. As Twitch grew in size and intelligence in the drainways, he claimed Zaun's underground as his territory, constructing hovels and makeshift laboratories in the pipes. Twitch became the inspiration for a kind of folktale among those who could find work no-where else but the pipes; A figment of the imagination to be feared when alone in the dark. The passing years saw Twitch become bolder and more ambitious, culminating in an event in which he ransacked a chemical laboratory for pumping large quantities of waste out of the sewers. Its personnel were killed and its structure damaged until it collapsed along with the tunnels riddling its foundations. Finally on the map of Zaun's dysfunctional law enforcement, Twitch chose to make his existence uncharacteristically official when he offered his destructive potential to the ruling powers of Zaun, who gladly turned a blind eye to his murders in exchange for a new political tool to use in the Fields of Justice- A collection of arenas within which champions fought to represent factions as opposed to allowing open war. Twitch had his own ulterior motives- With the support he gained from the Council of Zaun, he intended to replicate the circumstances of his own mysterious creation.
Chemical oddities, however, are not the only failed experiments to occur in Zaun. Unregulated magic is a considerable threat to public safety, and the no amount of science can perfectly predict the reactions of Valoran's unstable magic to an experiment. Twitch had no way to see in advance the dimensional landslip that caught Zaun in its grasp and dragged it kicking and screaming down into Crossover City, scattering many of its inhabitants. Far separated from his projects and with no knowledge of where he was, Twitch has no choice but to find assistance from other stranded individuals in returning to his home.

[b]Equipment:[/b] A crossbow of fine craftsmanship but visible wear. A quiver containing 17 barbed bolts. A second quiver containing 6 larger, custom bolts designed to fly with the speed and range required to pierce a victim and deliver a potent localised dose of flesh-rotting miasma into the muscle surrounding a wound; These bolts are not reusable and require formidable skill to produce. 2 glass flasks of an adhesive fluid with a deeply nauseating stench, designed for throwing at a fleeing target; Given a bottle and sufficient time to gather ingredients, brew and ferment, Twitch can produce these himself. A pair of goggles to protect his eyes from damage and sunlight. A waistcoat with a handful of 'ingredients' jumbled messily in its pockets. A romance novel and crayon for making crude edits to said romance novel. An extended family of lice which, like all his other parasites, Twitch is on very good terms with.

[b]Others:[/b] In-game and prior to the roleplay, Twitch's crossbow was once fitted with a vial which tips fired bolts with whatever liquid he could find to put in it. This mechanism is now broken; however, if Twitch can find a well-equiped bowyer and overcome his paranoia to trust them with his precious weapon, it can be repaired.

*Don't tell Rammus we said that, though. Or Rengar, or Alistar, or Renekton or Warwick or Volibear or the rest of the rather sizable proportion of the League of Legends playable character list that are sapient animals.

I think the only things to note here are that Twitch is not an antagonist; He won't get affection from other characters but he's smart enough not to turn on them, or abandon them while he remains stranded. The six poisoned bolts are there to last him the entire roleplay, so he won't be using them outside of boss fights or if he gets himself into an extremely tight spot. As for alchemy, its main application might be to grudgingly prevent infection in an ally or produce something like bait or fuel.[/hider]
Another dragon, intended for use on Flight Rising. Less interesting than Nur.
[hider=Poggle][b]Dragon Image[/b]
[img]http://flightrising.com/rendern/350/122990/12298942_350.png?mtime=VTsmgQACaLU.png[/img]
[url=http://flightrising.com/image_generators/dragonpic2.php?body=12&wing=4&style=5&gender=1&ages=1&prig=1&secg=1&tert=7&elem=6&tertgene=6&spec=prev]Without Apparel[/url]

[b]Name:[/b] Poggle (the Lesser).

[b]Age:[/b] Probably early thirties, human equivalent.

[b]Gender/ Pronouns:[/b] [s]Her Majesty the Queen[/s] She, her.

[b]Sexuality:[/b] [url=http://www.lecreuset.co.uk/EInBusinessTemplates/Everything/Images/catalogue/xlarge/TNS_28cm_Shallow_Frying_Pan.jpg]Detailed Explanation[/url].

[b]History:[/b]
The most defining aspect of Poggle's development was dictated before her adoption. Amnion, a disillusioned, surly, fiercely aggressive Mirror, had been gladly ejected from her home clan on the grounds of exploiting her family for personal gain. Her exile was stacked atop the more serious crime of religious blasphemy against the Flamecaller, which warranted her erasure from clan birth records. Though freedom suited Amnion perfectly well for a few hours, she possessed enough guile to know that her life in the wider dragon society was over- With neither name nor possessions, no reputable clan would accept her. She was condemned to choose between helpless poverty and self-exaltation to a deity she had personally slandered. Neither path suited her.
Acting with a hasty scheme in mind, Amnion sought among the crowded and ill-administered clans of the Ashfall, luring a submissive, forgotten young dragon into destroying his own birth record and eloping with her into the unknown. She struck lucky. Between Amnion and the meek but surprisingly efficient Sandgroper, a chaotic and morally dubious episode of siphoning in young, rogue and slated-for-exaltation dragons could take place, swelling the population of a new, illegitimate clan.
Amnion survived by reappropriating her deleted history into the start of a new bloodline as a progenitor, giving a handful of unsavoury dragons a home in the process. When the clan began to stabilise into a united entity, she finally caved in to cultural pressure and allowed the exaltation of one of her strongest clanmates, a Guardian named Poggle, as a thank offering to the Flamecaller. With a population still abnormally small, she bitterly regretted the decision. The next hatchling that came into Amnion's hands immediately took on the name of the Guardian to cover the loss in her own mind. In a wilful lash of spite and frustration, Amnion titled the replacement hatchling Poggle 'the lesser'.
Enter the Ridgeback fledgeling who had been sent north from the Southern Icefield to find a name and a home. The new Poggle had spent her first days in a clan of glamorous tradition which had not prepared her for Amnion. The matriarch's shame of exaltation ran counter to what she had been taught, and the origin of the name she'd been given left her to grow up feeling deeply vulnerable, unwanted but to plug the gap left by another. With an intense desire to assert herself as her own individual, she decided to take the name and bend it to her will, making it something of her own, not the harsh joke of another dragon. To this extent Poggle matured making every effort to take on an identity to retaliate against all Amnion stood for. She worshipped all eleven gods and made idols of them, carrying impractical trinkets and jewellery, took to wearing the cowl of a mystic and embraced every stereotype that came with it. She grafted a bulb to her skull to cast a dramatic light on her face. She moulded herself to be austere and coldly courteous.
Though Amnion has long since forgotten her original grudge, Poggle's entire identity was and is constructed by the antagonism she strains to live up to. When the opportunity came to return south to win glory for the clan in the name of the gods, Poggle the Lesser shoved her misgivings aside and seized at the most extreme manifestation of the character she had made herself become.

[b]Personality:[/b]
Poggle's character is defined by the archetype which she has copied for so long. She talks only as much as she needs to, turning a polite but cold exterior to most dragons, and bottles up her anger and fear to stand calm and brazen in the face of opposition. Self-discipline has taught her how to be suitably submissive in the face of authority. Confident that she knows the meaning of friendship and has numerous friends, Poggle's reluctance and frustration towards having fun suggests that she lost something in translation.
However, Poggle's personality is ultimately artificial. Though she's long since forgotten her identity prior to her name day, some situations still make her deeply uncomfortable for reasons she doesn't know, such as watching hatchlings at play, couples in love, or seeing something that makes her giggle. These episodes of insecurity often lead to Poggle tearing up or reverting to childish nervous impulses like scratching in the ground with her toes or playing with her bulb in her mouth, but sometimes end in hours of anxiety or confused panic, often followed by self-discipline and further hardened determination.

[b]Inventory:[/b] 
(Probably should include other stuff like rope and a compass, but this is just what I had in my hoard at the time. It's already image heavy enough as is. Whoops.)
[img]http://flightrising.com/images/cms/equipment/814.png[/img][img]http://flightrising.com/images/cms/equipment/395.png[/img][img]http://flightrising.com/images/cms/equipment/434.png[/img]
Poggle's general wear. The cowl is somewhat helpful in keeping windblown snow (or in her home clan, ash) from her eyes and lowering the chance of snow blindness, but is mostly worn as a trademark of her assumed identity. Poggle's keratinous skin growths (Crackle) have the benefit of hardening her feet into fearsome kicking weapons, but leave her ankles vulnerable; Thick leather spats braced with metal help compensate. Her tailwear is mostly practical, as the wrap adds valuable storage space for fragile items which can stay relatively safe even while tackling an opponent face-on. The teal glass bauble is lit from within by Firestarters, and keeps them separate from flammable goods.
[img]http://flightrising.com/images/cms/food/1210.png[/img][img]http://flightrising.com/images/cms/food/90.png[/img][img]http://flightrising.com/images/cms/trinket/180.png[/img]
Exploring inland with a coastal diet is a terrible idea for the underprepared. The fish is salted to last, though the convenient Cauranian weather makes it a natural refrigerator anyway. Tied into a net and carried on her wing shoulders.
[img]http://flightrising.com/images/cms/trinket/1167.png[/img][img]http://flightrising.com/images/cms/trinket/196.png[/img][img]http://flightrising.com/images/cms/trinket/251.png[/img]
Keeping accurate records is vital for an explorer. Carried in her cowl.
[img]http://flightrising.com/images/cms/trinket/1170.png[/img]
Useful if the expedition becomes separated. Useful for getting attention in other circumstances too. Carried on the forearm.[/hider]
A simple but fun character based on Aztec folklore.
[hider=Star Spirit][b]Name:[/b] Malinal Teotalca.

[b]Gender:[/b] Female.

[b]Age:[/b] 16.

[b]Race:[/b] Tzitzimitl, plural tzitzimimeh, a species from Aztec folklore. The tzitzimimeh are a humanoid, all-female race, most of which make their home in Tamoanchan, a utopia among the stars. During a solar eclipse or the end of the seasonal year they are most likely to appear on Earth, as harbingers of cosmic change and renewal. They have a strong association with safe childbirth, though their relationship with humans can be a little strained- Many tzitzimimeh are fierce, and may eat disrespectful humans. Tzitzimimeh look rather like grey-skinned humanoids with taut, skeletal faces, clawed limbs, and most strangely, functional blue eyes adorning their joints and vertebrae. They are ruled by their collective mother Itzpapalotl, once a mortal noblewoman who died in childbirth and was deified as a winged arch-tzitzimitl.

[b]Appearance:[/b] Malinal is very young for a tzitzimitl, and as such, still appears pretty much human. She is tall but not lanky- about 1.8 meters- with light brown skin just starting to take on a grey tone, and jagged dark hair around her shoulders. Malinal's face is not yet skull-like, but does appear rather bonier than the rest of her body, and she has a bit of trouble closing her lips over her teeth. Similarly, her hands are still human in shape, but quite large and strong, while her feet closely resemble that of a flightless bird, like a cassowary, and are equipped with a long spur on the innermost toe. Atrophied black wing nubs are embedded in her shoulder blades. Her most noticeable non-human trait is the blue eyes resting one each in her shoulders, elbows, wrists, hips, knees and ankles, and down her spine. These are tough enough to survive daily knocks and bumps, but squint or close in bright sunlight, so she often steps outside with a parasol or long sleeves and leggings.

[b]Personality:[/b] Young, cocky and confident, nothing can get Malinal down. She is energetic and social and treats everyone like a buddy, even her elders, and doesn't so much have trouble following rules as she loves the thrill of breaking them. Always up for a laugh, Malinal rarely takes the world seriously, and considers snarky remarks a form of bonding. Gifted with a more than healthy sense of irony and an actor's touch, she is known to express herself with exaggerated gestures. Part of this behaviour is driven by growing necessity- As Malinal's facial tissue slowly atrophies into its skull-like adult form, facial expressions become more difficult to display, which is part of the reason why she looks so smug all the time.

[b]Quirks:[/b] Malinal has a few preferences common to most tzitzimimeh- She loves skirts, hair accessories, skull-and-crossbones designs, moths and deer. There's some lovely art of tzitzimimeh around the internet and the pic I took most inspiration from was [url=http://fuzzyberry.tumblr.com/post/94796449094/rgeorgeart-finally-finished-my]here[/url]. Contains a topless demon lady.[/hider]
A very simple 'nation' for a nation roleplay that didn't take off. Based on a book I read about vines and ruins.
[hider=Mycelia]Full Name of Nation: [As the species acts by reflex and hormonal signals, there is no official vocal name.]

Common Name: Mycelia. Colloquially, 'fuzz'.

Government Type: None.

Demonym: Mycelian or fuzzy.

Dominant Species: Fuzz is a connected body of fungal tissue, mostly soft and fibrous like mould, but capable of interlocking into hard or elastic shapes, such as tubes. Fuzz exists only to expand by decomposing any organic matter it encounters, out-competing native species and eventually driving them to extinction. When an area of fuzz has exhausted its nourishment and is not contributing to the continued growth at the periphery, it goes dormant and eventually dies.

Technological Level: Adaptive. The growth reappropriates nearby objects into its architecture but manufactures no objects of its own accord. Fuzz exposed to more complex stimulus will reuse or respond to it in more complex ways. Fuzz has no memory- When stimulus is removed, it will very gradually revert to the state it was in without that stimulus, and will have to be re-exposed in order to 'learn' again. However, complex growths with positive results will slowly spread through the mass provided that form of growth has the tools required to function. Living creatures can be stimuli. For example, idle fuzz in a moist environment may culture algae or small plants symbiotically to produce nutrients for itself, while coastal fuzz exposed to shellfish may reuse nearby sources of calcium to produce its own covering.

Cultural Traits: Uniformity, unsustainable consumption, impassiveness, grey colour.

Language: None. Fuzz cannot speak (derp) or be taught to write. It may try to use basic symbols it is exposed to, but does not consciously understand their meaning.

Population: An irregular growth of various density, ten kilometres long from furthest end to furthest end. Growth speed depends on the availability of organic matter and the climate. There is only one growth of fuzz- Attempts to 'plant' a sample outside of the main body will always fail.

History: The mycelia was for untold aeons locked away in a subterranean chamber with no access to the surface. A series of landslips and the erosion of several hundred years exposed it to the surface, where it began to grow.

Military Type: Currently the best defences fuzz has are smooth vertical walls strutted by sticks and mycelium and imbedded with stones, a few metres tall at their highest. These develop at the periphery of the mycelium where it has been actively and persistently damaged, usually over the course of a few weeks.

Population in Military: <1%.[/hider]