"Life is just....fucked up."


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Nicknames: Liz or Lizzie is fine, but never call her Lizard. She hates it.
Age + Birthday: 22 (Currently), born October 13th, 1993
Relationship Status: Single
Sexuality: Lesbian

General Appearance:

Elizabeth stands about 5'1'' and weighs roughly 135 lbs. She has a fairly slender build with a bit of curve to her and her bust size is a b-cup. Her long raven black hair drapes over her shoulders with a few bangs always hanging down in her face, and her eyes are a piercing shade of ice blue. She's not too big on fashion either, but then again, what can you expect from a broke runaway, so her clothes are always frayed and grungy looking. Most of her clothes she carries around in an old military duffel bag she stole from her father, along with her beat up acoustic guitar

History:



"People lie all the time, even when they tell you the truth..."

Moving from the Midwest, Liz failed to fit in and make friends, usually choosing to exclude herself from
certain people, but when she did consider having a friend, she was cruelly rejected and ostracized by the
other students, leading her to recede more and more into herself. Liz was born to her mother and father in Des Moines, Iowa on October 13th. Her mother worked as a receptionist for a hospital while her father was a sheriff's deputy. However Elizabeth wasn't her father's child but the child of her mother and another man she had an affair with behind his back. Once her father, a cruel and abusive drunk, discovered the truth, he tried to kill his wife and child. Liz's mother escaped with her from Iowa, and together, the two tried to start a new life.

It was rather easy for her mother, but for Liz.....it was Hell. Elizabeth was constantly bullied by the children in her class, the ridicule and ostracism proceeding till she was twelve, when her mother fell gravely ill with cancer. It wasn't months later, her mother passed away. Liz had never cried so much in her life. She felt that without her mother, she had nothing. All that was left.....was for her to die too, but her first attempt at suicide went awry. Trying to jump from the window of her mother's apartment, she was caught by the landlord, sending her into a crazed, convulsing fit.

For the next few months, she was admitted to an asylum after continuously cutting and burning herself, later being released and adopted by a strict ex Marine and his wife living in Dallas, Texas. She was soon running with a "bad" crowd and constantly rebelled against her foster parents, often getting into trouble with the police and ending up quite literally on the backhand of Daniel, her foster father.

Finally fed up with the constant control and physical abuse, she ran away from home in the middle of the night and never looked back since. She ended up here in the city after hitching a ride with a trucker, tired, hungry, penniless, and desperately in need of a place to rest. For the time being, she's slept under the bridge in the park and lived off whatever money she made being a street performer.

Personality:



"Yeah, I'm a bitch. Deal with it."

Cynical, moody, and sarcastic, rarely does Liz speak, but when she does, she's not afraid to tell you what's on her mind. She's usually a cool and collected person, but you rub her the wrong way, you only have yourself to blame for that black eye you got. She hates bullies and absolutely despises snobby, stuck up people. Liz is a music lover at heart, but only certain types of music since she absolutely despises pop music. She also occasionally smokes marijuana. There is a kinder, more gentle side to Liz, but it is rarely seen.

Skills:
Other than playing guitar, nothing really.

Hobbies:
Skateboarding, playing guitar, getting high, listening to music, photography, napping constantly, drinking lots of coffee



*sigh* "I needed this."~ =u=

Other:

-She's allergic to cats

-Not only can she can play guitar. She can also play piano.

-In addition to her other tattoos, Liz also has on the left side of her neck two laughing skulls and "Memento Morii" in fancy lettering trailing around her left arm.



"Okay, now that you know everything about me, go away."

Name:
Benji Moore

Age:
20

Height:
5'9"

Skills:
•Pick pocketing
•Good with a Switch blade
•Good shooter
•Negotiating
•Can get a lot of things(Drugs, alcohol, guns, mainly anything that's illegal, but bombs he can't get those)

Bio:
Born from prostitution: raised to cause trouble. From a young age Benji was known to get into some type of trouble each week. It was so common for him to get into trouble that people would place bets on how he got in trouble or when he got in trouble. Around the time he was 15 his home was robbed and his mother(only parent) was killed in the process. Everyone knew the people who did the crime but was afraid to speak out because it could result in their death. Benji wasn't afriad though searched for his mothers murders. Once he found them he manage to kill two out of the three of them that was apart of the robbery in a poorly planned drive by. The remaining man managed to snag a car and chase Benji. The car Benji was in came to an unsuccessful sharp turn and crashed sending him flying through the windshield. He hit a curb face first and was presumed dead. There was alot of witnesses and sirens weren't to far behind. The guy had to make a getaway in order to not be caught. The sirens were ambulance sirens but the guy couldn't take his chances and a cop plan to show up to the scene. It seems luck was on Benji's side, he wasn't dead but was in a coma for 6 months. As he awoken after several long months he was debriefed on what lead him to the situation he was in now. The doctors say when hit the curb is right was no longer useful so that gave him a glass eye that he could afford, it didn't have an iris or pupil. Strange enough Benji says he can see just fine through both of eyes, but the doctors didn't believe him and said that's just the drugs talking. Oddly he can see out of the glass eye but doesn't understand why. Another month passes and he is released. His hospital bills making bankrupt and broker than someone who has hope in the gambling system. In order to stay alive he's become "The Guy" you can get anything you need from. As of now he sleeps in alleys or park benches.

Alyssa (Aly) Samara Chase

16 years old

Alyssa is about five feet tall. She has long blonde hair with blue eyes. She tends to wear simple cloths such as a tanktop and a pair of means with a sweatshirt thrown over it. She has a skinny build but in has some muscle in her arms and such.

Skills: