Greg is Caucasian, stands at approximately six feet tall, and weighs around 260 lbs. He has pale green eyes, dull brown hair that’s kept short, and a very full, very rough beard. He has a somewhat portly figure, though not so much in the unhealthy range. He wears glasses at all times, and often dresses in derogatory hipster wear, though he doesn’t consider himself one (despite much evidence saying otherwise).

Greg displays a varying level of enthusiasm in just about everything he does. He is confident in the aura of cheerfulness and subtle bombast he (hopes he) projects towards others, and he goes out of his way to make it up to anyone he happens to offend in any manner. He’s a bit of a neat freak, but it only shows itself in very arbitrary situations, and he isn’t at all unreasonable about it. He is constantly in the mood to try something new, create, and all in all just using his time productively (by his definition).

Gregory is pretty average in most respects. His parents were more standard than he ever was - dad was an online business tutor, and mom was a nurse. As a child, he displayed an affinity for crude drawings that slowly improved over time, and he labeled himself a class clown on several occasions. When he grew past that, he took everything more into check and clear, and as he went through high school, he made plenty of works and friends alike. He faced little in the way of ridicule and never any physical threats from others. College was more of the same, though by then his grades in subjects such as math and science began to fall, which he made little worry of. After he managed to scrape by with what he could, he settled in an apartment close to home, made a decent living as a gas station clerk instead of anything creative (he claims it’ll happen someday much later), and he receives monetary supplements from his parents from time to time. To say the least, things have worked out for him so far.

Greg fancies himself an artist and a writer, though he goes about each in often peculiar ways. He prefers to work in abstract shapes and cryptic speeches, but most of the time it’s just him making something up on the spot, and he never spends more than a day on one piece of work in particular. He knows nothing in the way of combat, but in the few incidents he’s had a tussle with friends, he’s been told he can throw a decent punch, if a little sloppily in form.

All Greg’s brought with him onboard are his phone, wallet, money, ID, laptop, spare clothes, and a kit filled with sketchbooks and drawing utensils in case he decides to use them.

Greg frequents an obscure little roleplaying website that he considers “a congregation of some of this generation’s finest minds”.

Zoey perfectly fits the "punk girl" mold. She died her hair, has plenty of tattoos, and just has that attitude that just reeks rebellion. Older folks are quick to judge a book by the cover and immediately classify her as a problem-child just off her looks alone. Other youths are more receptive to her. Zoey carries herself with an air of confidence, but rather than just being a screaming wreck as people assume her, she is actually fairly chill and laid back. Taking slow and steady steps with her hands in her pocket, a cigarette hanging from her lips, and generally relaxed demeanor. Though, that demeanor can switch at the blink of an eye when things get a little out of control. She can either become screaming rage, or scared as a deer.

Though, she's also a little rough, that might just be because she's a bit of a tomboy. Zoey grew up around boys, and appears to be a little rugged, slightly masculine. It shows a lot in her attitude and demeanor. She smokes, she’s loud, and she drinks. She tends to attract attention with her tom-boyish streak. Her voice is a little rough from cigarette smoking, and she has a few scars and old wounds from previous injuries.

Now, onto her appearance, Zoey is pretty pronounced due to a mixture of her hair, and her height. Her hair is dyed a cyan-blue color, and it’s kept in a rounded bowl-cut. She usually keeps her hair underneath her beanie, where it’s somehow more noticeable. Zoey’s hair is a straight texture that is kept clean - but is a bit damaged from all the hair-dye, and a few mess-ups. The other thing that makes Zoey stand-out is her height. People like to call her a God damn Amazon because she’s five-ten, two inches short of six feet tall. Because of her height, people loved to shaft her into sports teams. It wasn’t anything that she enjoyed, but it kept her in shape.

She’s bony as hell, being skinny and without any sizable amount of body fat or muscle. She has like a thin layer of muscle if you squint, but there isn’t much there. A lot of her exercise comes from hauling ass from people she pissed off, because she spends plenty of time lounging around. She certainly does have a little sex appeal. Her bust is a 34C, and her hips are slightly prominent. She doesn't pack a lot in the ass area, though. Her body is a rough-square build rather than the famed hour-glass build.

Zoey is mixed-race, actually. While she looks fully Caucasian, she is Scottish, French, and half-Brazilian. She is more directly descended from the Portuguese settlers, but she has a bit of African through her veins. Her skin is a little pale because she spends a little bit of time indoors. It can't be clear, because Zoey has a few tattoos, and various scars.

While she may look like a punk, Zoey is more of a free-spirit than anything. She would rather goof off than study. She likes to see herself as fun personified, as she always loves to light up a situation. Normally, Zoey is pretty relaxed, and somewhat brooding, until she gets around her friends and turns into a total goofball. While good grades don't drive Zoey, there are plenty of other things that will ignite the fire of determination in her. Give her a goal, and you bet your ass that she'll see it through to the end. That is her dreamer, determinator lifestyle, and there ain't anyone that can convince her otherwise. It's childish, but it's what helps Zoey get up in the morning. Though, I have to say that she is stubborn as hell, it's impossible to convince her to stop - especially when she's driven. Zoey is snarky, quip-witted, and loves to talk to people and explore new things. Zoey is willing to try, well, anything. She is willing to try the same gender as much as the opposite, just because she loves to explore and find new things about herself.

Zoey was born as the oldest child of a pair of girls. The daughter of two illustrious scientists. A native of Organs Zoey grew up in a small towns watching TV shows and movies... and always wanting a little bit more. Zoey felt like home doesn't have what she wants, or needs, and never will. Which is why Zoey always aimed to leave, but was always swatted down. Once she was of age she turned into a sports-playing tomboy the moment she reached sports maturity.

She was raised following dreams, and had a love of different brands of music. Zoey played around with instruments, but they weren't her thing (they hurt the shit out of her fingers). But, she was drawn to electronic music... and eventually, she figured out how to make music, and it became her obsession. Her grades plummeted as she aspired to become a techno artist. She dropped a few hot LPs on Soundcloud, but barely gathered an online audience. However, she finds her true audience by preforming at parties.

Once Zoey matured, her father wasn't very receptive of Zoey slacking. She graduated highschool by the skin of her teeth, but she was kicked out of her house when she refused to get a job. Zoey had to stay with a friend... and get a job. She got a job as a barista at the local Cafe, but she still indulges in her childhood fantasies, and parties a lot.

Making techno music (Zoey preforms as a DJ at parties).
Partying.
Plays for her school's basketball team.
Spray-painting.
Drawing.

A Laptop (With all of her badass music)
A Blue iPod Touch.
A Sketchpad.
A Basketball.
A Carton of Cigarettes.
Cellphone.

Francis sure as hell isn't the most intimidating man in the world. While he would be more scary if he wasn't so short that women stand equally to him, he mostly presents himself as a friendly person. He's always smiling, and seemingly always has a good mood. He has a friendly aura that disarms all but the most hardy of people. He carries himself with such a carefree attitude that it's impossible to feel intimidated by the man (Unless you're really racist). Francis takes short choppy steps whenever he moves, and usually keeps his hands deep inside of his pockets. His speech is quick, and usually has a playful, child-like feel to it, and he speaks with a thick foreign accent. Sometimes it's hard to understand him because of his speed, and accent.

As stated before, Francis isn't very tall. He's about one inch above the female average, and that is because of rather unfortunate genes. Where Francis is short, he makes up for it in build. He has the build of a runner, because that was one of his activities in highschool. He also makes an effort to bulk up in his spare time by hitting the gym, and jogging. Picking up free running is what helps. His legs are easily the most well-toned part of his body, having the calfs of a basketball player, and some really bulky thighs. His arms aren't as muscular, but you can tell he's been lifting. He doesn't have washboard abs, but he has been doing sit-ups. He looks like the type that can run like the literal wind.

Francis is a proud Haitian by blood. Born in raised in the country, Francis' skin is a very dark color from being out in the sun for most of his life. His features are pretty consistent with those descendant from African. Not even taking account his skin-color, his facial features, and hair texture, are pretty in line for African people. Speaking of his hair, he keeps it in thick, bushy dreadlocks.

Eh, I'll write this later. Francis is your run of the mill nice guy.

Francis was a boy born in Haiti in the summer of 97'. He was born to one of the few families of the poor country that could e considered "middle class." Being people who worked in the tourism sector, they had enough money to put food on the table for each and every one of Francis' older brothers and sisters (His siblings being Claudette, Edward, and Jean). Francis took an interest in playing soccer with the older kids growing up, but he was never old enough to play with them. So, he merely practiced all on his own.

Though, life for Francis changed during the eventful month of January 2010... the month where the Haiti earthquake took place. While rumbling and shaking took place all over the city, Francis was nearly crushed by a piece of rubble... but managed to save himself when he manifested an "armor" of some sort. A lilac armor that shielded Francis from certain death. It disappeared later... but, he realized that something was wrong with him. Once the young Jean-Pierre got to safety, his family revealed to him that they are a line of Hyperhumans specializing in mental abilities. His shell was a manifestation of his willpower and passion to guard him from danger.

After the Haiti Earthquake blew over... there wasn't much for the Jean-Pierre family to do because their house and jobs were all destroyed in the earthquake. They were fortune enough to have enough money and time to migrate to America. It was a culture shock, to say the least, because Francis' only experiences with Americans were the tourists. They arrived in Philadelphia. Before long they opened up a Caribbean-style restaurant called "Jean-Pierre Seafood!"

Since he was around highschool age when this happened, Francis was enrolled into his local High School. While his grades were nothing special, his athletic ability was what got him a name. He first joined the
school's basketball team, and eventually made a name for himself on the tracks. His seemingly endless supply of energy is what turned him into a blur on the field. And on the side, Francis picked up parkour.

After graduating school, Francis went to work at his parents restaurant to save up money for college.

Soccer
Basketball
Running/Parkour
Cooking
Multilingual

A phone.
Athletic gear.
His lucky soccer ball (He doesn't leave home without it).
A Camera (Gotta take pictures of all the sights).

Jasmine is a very pronounced teenager in terms of appearance. It's because of her pronounced looks because of her Ethiopian heritage. She just has that distinct Ethiopian facial shape. That means that Jasmine here is African-American to her very bone. Afro-textured hair, brown-skin, thick lips, and of course the African facial-shape. She has a slightly nerdy vibe about her because she is utterly blind without her glasses, and hates the fact that she has to wear them. However, the girl is much more in line with urban girls. It's the way she dresses and acts, after all. Jasmine has the aura of a model, mostly because she loves to pose, and take pictures of herself. She's a girl that loves to be in tip-top shape, instead of being a slob. Because of this, the girl's body is pretty well-toned from exercise and the biz. She has the build of a runner because she's a track runner in school. The rest of her body is well-toned because of yoga-stretches, and body building.

All of this means that Jasmine is a tad muscular. Almost like she is aiming to become a model. She does have a bit of body-fat, and all it does is make the girl curvier. I'll go into that later. The girl isn't painfully tall at five-three, but her build more than makes up for it. She has a pear body-shape, instead of the famed hour-glass - but she makes it work. With her lower body being the wider part of Jasmine, her breasts aren't anything to write home about at 34B, but her hips and behind are wide. Her perfectly round behind is the butt of many jokes.

Jasmine walks with a swagger in her step, and sways her hips left and right. She definitely gives off the aura of a vain female with all the looks she gives people that tells them she's the queen bee. Though, she certainly has a playful side. It shows when she smiles - and that's only when she's around the people she trusts very much.

A tad abrasive. Jasmine is a girl that is very vain and haughty about her talents, and appreciates all the love and admiration for being Greenbriar's finest child. She has a lot of confidence in herself, and the skills to back it up, of course. She's normally laid back until someone sets off that flaming temper of hers, then she turns into a screaming maniac that is blunt as hell. Like, she'll give people the most savage verbal beatdowns on the planet. Jasmine is blunt in general, but honestly, she mostly reserves that for the people who annoy her the most. She speaks in a casual and friendly manner, and uses the lingo and slang you'd expect a eighteen year old to use. Not overly energetic, but she puts enough passion into her interactions that leaves a good first impression. Usually putting on a confident smirk. Certainly playful and confident with other people, and tends to spout jokes, and the sorts. Jasmine is so confident in herself that, when she makes a mistake, she owns up to it, and takes full responsibility for it. Most importantly, looking down on people who don't.

Jasmine was born in Philadelphia as the only daughter of two upper-middle class parents. Jasmine, due to her upbringing, had a headstart to pick her hobbies. She was always a ball of energy... like, she was a limitless supply of it. Which caused her to act out without any real outlet. It would be years before anyone would even think of putting Jasmine in a sport. She was made to join her school's basketball team, and became the team's star player in no time. With nothing but talent alone, she demolished the other schools with ease, and became a legend in Philadelphia in no time. Earning her a spot with the popular kids. She also joined the track team, and a friend of hers taught her how to play soccer. That was the start of her arrogance, since she was so much better than sports than everyone else, doesn't that mean she's a fundamentally better person? Though, Jasmine was an average student, she got by with them average grades. Once school was over, Jasmine spent most of her time practicing for real so she can join the WMBA. She also picked up modeling as something to do to get her more exposure.

Modeling.
Track Running.
Basketball.
Soccer.

Make up.
Athletic gear.
Cellphone.
Camera.
iPod.
Dre Beats.

Willy is a lanky, blond person. His face people say is incredibly pre-pubescent. His eyes are brown and slightly glazed over, giving the impression that he's a complete idiot. He's also an open book. His face changes wildly with whatever he's feeling or thinking about, which is the primary reason he doesn't play poker. His fingers, even when unoccupied, are always twitching, as if he's still solving some puzzle.

Willy is incredibly expressive. If a normal person is slightly annoyed, he is boiling. If they're mildly pleased, he acts as if he received a fighter jet for christmas. He often misses the big picture in favor of one tiny detail, which never turns out to be very important. He thinks himself a philosopher, and is always eager to please.

His life has been rather normal, complete with doting but rather clueless parents and one annoying little sister. Nothing was rather particular in his life. He went to college, which he fondly remembers as the best time of his life. He took up his forensic and chemistry classes with gusto. Eventually he graduated, and decided the best thing to do was attempt a living in the sciences, so he returned to his alma mater (which wasn't that famous to begin with) and took up a job as an assistant to his old professor in chemistry, where he still is today.

His constant fanboying over Sherlock Holmes made him take a few classes in forensics. He cannot instantly solve the case in seconds like his hero, but give him a couple of hours on a crime scene and he'd be able to from a couple of sloppy conclusions. He can also solve a rubik's cube in under 3 minutes, a skill he likes to brag about to everyone who'd care to listen. He also spends a little too much time reading encyclopedias, and would randomly recall some useless factoid.

A rubik's cube and a slinky. Also clothes and a phone.

Nope