Name: Noemi Ophelia Wayward
Age: 26
Sex: Female
Sexuality: Pansexual
Relationship Status: Single
Occupation: Mortician

The Body

Height: 4'11"
Weight: 105lbs
Hair: Brown and curly
Eyes: Muddy, chocolate brown
Skin Tone: Lightly tanned
Appearance: Small and curvy with an hourglass figure. Her hair can be one of two ways, wild and unkempt curls or nicely brushed out beachy sort of look. She has no set sort of fashion though she loves floral patterns. Jeans and a t-shirt or a long dress and sunhat. Her taste in clothing is as unpredictable as she is. She rarely wears make-up but when she does it is typically a natural and light sort of look.

The Soul

Likes: Books, tea, dive bars, cats, family, photography, sorting books, travel, and adventure.
Dislikes: Oatmeal raisin cookies, waterlogged shoes/wet socks, burnt toast, big box stores, ask-holes, and 'those' vegans.
Positive Traits: Outgoing, welcoming, generally in a good mood, always ready for adventure, affectionate, and comforting.
Negative Traits: Flaky, unpredictable, emotional, frivolous, needy, trouble having serious conversations, and easily distracted.
Perfect Date: "We plan a whole day! Maybe we start at a coffee shop, drink together, chat about things. We would move to maybe a park or maybe somewhere we can walk and continue our chat. Oh! Or a museum! Lunch will be necessary and I think something fried is the best way to go. We could then go to a pet store and pet all the puppies and kitties and look at all the cute critters there. We can finish up by going to a club to dance or a bar and drink. Oh! Karaoke and sing our hearts out! And then, depending on chemistry go to a hotel to seal the deal or maybe you can kiss me on the doorstep."
Worst Date: "You mean a day in my dating life? Haha! Uhm, I guess going to a movie to watch some washed out Hollywood this and that. Popcorn, 'nachos', and soda. No talking really. Taking me on a 'drive around town' in your car. Stare listlessly through car windows and listen to whatever is on the radio. Just.... boring, boring, mundane things. uhg."

Skills:

• Makes amazing coffee or tea
• Solid photography skills
• A knack for picking up whatever is thrown her way
• Cats tend to like her
• A great singing voice, though can't dance worth crap
• Can eat the spiciest of foods with no issue

Brief History:

• Born, via a midwife, in her parent's home.
• Only child. Summer baby.
• Mother did woodworking, father ran a business. Both were deeply in love and had undergone the TAP vacation.
• Mother urged her into hobbies and she tended to become good at whatever she tried her hand at.
• Grew up a strange child but somehow liked by many of her peers. Of course there were those who found her much too strange.
• Went to college to become a mortician.
• Became a member of the Order of the Good Death and works in a funeral home the specializes in green/natural burials.
• Currently lives in a small apartment with two cats and a romantic dream.

The Story

The morning started out for her as most mornings did. A gentle paw with just a hint of claw scratched lightly at her cheek. When she opened her eyes she found a magnificent pair of gold eye peering down at her through the deep grey of dawn. “Good morning Fezzik,” she said in sleep slurred speech. The giant Maine Coon chirped at her and she patted the fluffy beast. Noemi allowed herself a few more minutes to wake while curled up beneath her warm comforter.

After the morning routine of showering and dressing, the young woman moved into her living room to find both of her cats sitting patiently beside the cabinet in the kitchen. It was only when she popped open the can of wet food that they danced, wove, and sang around her legs. It only quieted somewhat when she placed their bowls down from them. Fizzgig was a happy eater and talked while he ate.

Avocado toast and a cup of coffee were brought to the windows which led to the fire escape. She sat on the window seat there and watched the world begin to come to life. It was slow at first. A person leaving here or there and lights coming on in apartments and homes. Fezzik came to join her but was much more interested in the birds that alighted on the fire escape rails for a brief respite.

Breakfast done, the young woman bid her cats goodbye, pulled on her thick winter overcoat, knitted hat with matching scarf, and furred boots. Off she went out into the morning. The cloudy grey sky was typical of an early spring day in Boston. Snow still clung to the sidewalks, dirtied by the streets. Noemi watched her breath come out as steam and thick as dragon’s smoke. She was lucky enough to live a fifteen-minute walk from her work and it even included crossing through a small park.

As she made her way down to the end of her street, a car rolled backward out of an auto mechanic’s shop and was immediately hit by another car. There was yelling and swearing and all sorts of to do. Noemi watched with curiosity for only a few moments, wondering if she could get by the usual way. It seemed today the universe was telling her to go a different path.

With a shrug, she headed off down a side street only to find a group of teenage boys of the thugerous persuasion. Noemi tried not to judge people by the clothes they wore but there had been reports of purse snatching in the area lately. She didn’t carry a purse but a mugging was never out of the question. As she approached them it became apparent they were having a heated argument. One of them was gesticulating wildly while another pointed a finger at him. Their voices rose to a shout and she stopped a few feet from them, preparing to turn and walk away.

“Hey, yo, Miss,” one of the boys called out before she could move.

“Y-yes?”

“What is the plural of moose?” She stared at the boy, stunned. Was this all the arguing as about?

“It is also moose, I believe.”

“See, told you Reg. Momma didn’t raise no idiot.” The sour, angry faces turned to smiles. Laughter and teasing ensued while Noemi felt more at ease passing by them. How silly to have gotten so caught up in her own thoughts. To think she would have thought they meant to harm her. They were just boys.

Turning down the next street she heard the shout of, “Thanks, Miss!” Noemi giggled to herself. It was moments later that she entered the park she normally went through. Checking her watch she found she was going to be late if she didn't hurry. She speed walked down the brick path all while attempting to avoid patches of ice. Her mind was so concentrated on where she was to place her feet that she barely got out of the way in time for a tiny, yapping dachshund to bite at a much larger rottweiler. The big dog seemed confused at first and backed away. The dachshund continued its onslaught as its panicked owner ran after with the leash the small dog had slipped.

The big dog’s owner was trying to pull away from the fight but the dachshund managed to get teeth into the big dog’s ear. The rottie yelped then growled, now invested in harming that which harmed him. Noemi rushed forward and pulled the tiny dog off the larger one who proceeded to close its mouth around her arm. It was brief and left no more than slobber on her thick coat jacket.

The woman pulled her dachshund out of Noemi’s grasp and cooed and cuddled it. She then began yelling at the man about his menace of a dog. He had even bit that nice lady there. The rottie owner yelled back about her little savage dog. Yelling, screaming, and Noemi was late. She sighed and backed away from the pair. There were threats of police involvement and the big dog’s ear was bleeding. Noemi only got a few paces away when the rottie owner caught her upper arm.

“Please, a moment. Can I get your info as a witness?”

“Oh. Um, of course.” She dug through her pocket and pulled out a little notebook. Once her name and number were on the paper she pulled it from the book and handed it to the man.

“I’m sorry my dog got you. Are you hurt at all?”

“Nope, just fine, see?” She showed him the coat was merely a bit wet. “I don’t think he meant any real damage.” Noemi smiled brightly and the man relaxed and smiled back.

The Ether

Color Code: D87093
Face Claim: Emmy Rossum
Theme Song: Savage Daughter as sung by Meade Elspeth

Name: Mateo Nathaniel Black
Age: 37
Sex: Male
Sexuality: Heteroflexible
Relationship Status: Single
Occupation: Lawyer

The Body

Height: 5'9"
Weight: 152lbs
Hair: Black
Eyes: Dark Brown
Skin Tone: Pale
Appearance: He is a man of good taste and fashion. He is always dressed well in suits, knows fancy tie knotts and his shoes cost more than your apartment. He keeps his hair well kept and styles it every morning. He has a lithe and somewhat muscular build due to sporadic gym visits and and tendancy to forget to eat. He considers his appearance his brand. How can you expect your lawyer to get you out of a jam if he looks like a crumpled sock at the bottom of a laundry basket?

The Soul

Likes: Coffee, Cigarettes, Scotch, Good Clothing, Reading (especially cases), and Smokey/Leathery scents/
Dislikes: Cigars, Commited Relationships, Having to Eat, Interruptions from his Work, and "Looking a Mess."
Positive Traits: Passionate, warm, gentle, persuasive, detail oriented, capable, great fashion sense and tidy.
Negative Traits: Apathetic, jaded in love, fear of commitment, workaholic, persuasive, the type to throw money at problems, strong willed, and hedonistic.
Perfect Date: "I suppose going out - wine, dinner, dancing. I would pick out the perfect dress for you. Purchase jewelery to match. We could go out to plays or orchestra. Perhaps stay at home and have a simple drink and chat before the fire."
Worst Date: "Inane talking about nothing. Demands and arguments. Cruelty toward the staff of any place. Possesiveness. Guess I am more describing a type of person, huh?"

Skills:

• Great debator
• Iron liver
• Money management
• Great knowledge of law
• Smooth talker
• Drives exceptionally well

Brief History:

• Born to parents that appeared to loathe each other
• Constant arguments that more often than not turned to an elabroate and loud make-up session
• Comes from money and so has never been without
• Most of his school years were spent abroad in a boarding school, which gives him a slight British accent
• Found he was great at debate and from there decided to become a lawyer
• Goes to Yale
• Graduates and begins internships
• Spends a few years working with a prestigous law firm
• Starts his own with a friend, "Black and Bidwell"
• Mother starts demanding grandbabies

The Story

Mateo had taken the time to lovingly place log after log into the fireplace. Each one was positioned so the flames may eat them but to also give air flow. He had the experience from the last ten years of building fires into the same hearth to help him. Beneath the logs were old newspapers and important documents which could only be destroyed by an incinerator to keep things safe. Atop the mantle sat a large box of long matches. Picking them up he crouched once again before the logs, struck the match, and lit the papers aflame.

He watched as the fire consumed paper and sensually licked at the logs before finding purchase there. Closing the grate, so as to not burn down his quite expensive penthouse, he went around to the wall of books. His personal study was a sanctuary of knowledge. It held a large mahogany desk littered with law tomes and case papers. His walls were made of bookcases holding all sorts of the written word from smutty romances to geographical maps. Nothing was beyond his interest.

His fingers skimmed over hardback covers, some of them ancient first prints worth more than the penthouse itself. At last his thin, piano fingers found a tome that appeared far older than it was. Animal Farm. He had read this book so many times that the spine was cracked and some of the pages were beginning to fall away from the glue. Someday he would have to replace it. For now, his beloved childhood book was just perfect the way it was. When he had first read it, he had simply enjoyed the animals being in charge of their own farm. In his adulthood, he began to understand the themes.

He settled into his large, leather, winged armchair near the flames. Beside him was a decanter of scotch which he poured over ice. Mateo lay his book down upon his lap and removed a metal case of cigarettes from his inner jacket pocket. Smoothly he lit one up, sipped the liquor, and opened his novel in the anticipation of an uninterrupted read on a rare Thursday off.

All was going well for about an hour and a half until his door opened and then slammed shut. He jumped slightly, causing the last of his second cigarette’s ash to fall to the floor. He quickly stuffed it out in a nearby ashtray before bookmarking his page.

“Mateo!” a feminine voiced called from the hall. The middle-aged man could not help but groan. With a sigh and in preparation for a headache, he lifted himself from his comfortable chair. He opened his study door and as he made his way down the hall the perfume of her hit him before the sight of the woman did. She was slender and frail looking but with a good build that complimented all her assets. She had always worn her hair in blonde, beachy curls and only the slightest hint of makeup to accentuate immaculately curated features. Her dress was bright red, her coat real fox fur, and her smile as fake as Barbie’s.

The lawyer returned the smile to the best of his abilities while his mother threw her arms about his neck. She kissed both of his cheeks with her obligatory statement of “Kiss, kiss,” before standing back and holding the taller man’s shoulders.

“How did you get in?” he asked kindly. His heart and his head were seriously annoyed.

“I made a copy, but never mind that! Oh, my darling son! You won’t believe the news!” The woman was full of fervor and ecstasy so there was no helping his mandated reply.

“Yes, what is it mother?” She wanted him to ask. She so obviously needed him to ask.

“I will, I will, but do give your dear mother a drink. It is frightfully cold outside.” The woman took off her coat and scarf only to drop them on the floor. Mateo led her to the immediate left, a sitting room designed for meeting clients. It was comfortable and quite bland. Soft blue, white, and brown colors adorned fabrics and walls alike. To the small bar at the side of the room he went and poured his mother her usual vodka and soda.

Once this life reviving drink was in her hands and she had taken a sip, she began her tale. “Well, at the office there was a giveaway. You put in more money and the more you spent the more tickets you would get. Obviously, I couldn’t let Carol or Bridget (‘the alcoholic,’ she muttered beneath her breath) win.” She went on to spout some very nasty things of both women before continuing, “So I put in a grand for this raffle. Oh! Your father will shoot me, but it’s worth it. And what would you know I won the grand prize! And Ooooooh,” she sighed in a far too sexual manner, “The looks on their faces when I walked up to receive it. You know I made sure to wear…” Mateo was beginning to drown her out despite his best efforts to listen. After some time he heard the words, “And would you have it, I won tickets to the TAP! I am, of course, attached most devotedly to your father. But I thought you could use them to find a good woman to keep your house.”

His mother began to dig through her tiny purse. There was no way she hadn’t come upon the ticket by now but she took her time. “Aha!” The blonde pulled the ticket out and offered it to her only son. “You had better use this,” she said in a dark and commanding tone. Even her face showed him that she meant business or he would wind up with the woman in his house, complaining, for a month. “Or I shall be quite disappointed.”

“Yes, of course mother. I wouldn’t dream of anything but your happiness. You worked so hard to get this.” He would reserve the eye rolling and annoyance for after she had left.

“Good boy. You must… no… You WILL call me directly after in the morning to let me know how it went.”

“Of course mother.”

“Now I must be off, or I’ll be late to my hair appointment. Take care of yourself love. Kiss kiss.” With that she was out the door without another word or sentiment. Mateo stared at the ticket and groaned while his eyes moved toward the ceiling. He didn’t need this foolishness right now. He couldn’t even come close to wanting it.

The lawyer walked back to his office, sat in that winged chair, and pulled out his cell phone to call his secretary. The line rang for a few moments before the answer of “Black and Bidwell, how may I help you?” came clear across the line.

“Tell me, Abigail, there must be some urgent matter that needs my attention.”

“Let me look sir.” He could hear the shufflings of papers and the clacks of the computer as she looked through the notes. The long silence while this happened made his heart fall as doubts of relief crept in. “No, nothing sir.”

“Not even anything I could do pro-bono?”

“I’m afraid not sir.” Her tone was sympathetic, and she dared to whisper, “Delilah?”

“Fucking Delilah,” he responded. “Remind me to change my locks tomorrow.”

“Yes of course sir.”

“Enjoy your day.”

The Ether

Color Code: 8FBC8F
Face Claim: Jospeh Gordon Levitt
Theme Song: This is not required, just for funsies.

Name: Gaia Mia Bradley
Age: 24
Sex: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Single
Occupation: Library Stacks Dweller/Archivist

Name:
Leon Ethan Walsh

Nickname:
Lee (offscreen, to family and friends)
Ethan (onscreen)

Age:
25

Sex:
Male

Sexuality:
Heterosexual

Relationship Status:
Single

Occupation:
Actor/Model

Miyawaki Sakura (Iz*one) | #ffd1dc

Name: Mitchell 'Micky' Woulfe
Age: 22
Sex: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Relationship Status: Single
Occupation: Musical Theatre Student at College/Works at his brother and sister-in-law's music store

The Body

Height: 5'7"
Weight: 156 lbs.
Hair: Brown
Eyes: Blue
Skin Tone: Fair
Appearance:
It is a known fact by those who know him that Micky has no sense of fashion. The majority of his closet holds t-shirts and shorts. At least he has the common sense to dress in a buttonup and jeans for work. His hair though is just a mess he hates to get it cut so usually he lets it grow to the point of it being akin to a helmut before it must go. He does keep himself in shape riding his bike everyday.

The Soul

Likes: Musicals, Broadway, Biking, Outdoors, Honesty, Deep Discussions, Piano, Reading, Pizza
Dislikes: Liars, Solitude, Steryotyping, Broccoli, Coffee, Tea
Positive Traits: Kind, Friendly, Exciteable, Polite, Encouraging, Trustworthy, Humble
Negative Traits: Naive, Childish, Impulsive, Emotianal, Distractable
Perfect Date: "The perfect date. Hmm, oh I know. Have you ever heard of Carowinds? Well, it's like a carnival but ten times better. We could ride all the rides, eat cotton candy, and later we could go putt-putt. It'd be so fun."
Worst Date: "Sitting in some fancy shmancy restaurant. Two people staring at each other while trying to talk and eat makes me cringe a little."

Skills:

• Can ride a bike. _{<--- I'mma use this cause he is really good at it.}
• Singing
• Piano
• Baseball
• Being a great shoulder to lean on
• General Geek culture buff

Brief History:

• Born the last child of five. _{Two of which are twins and another child, later on, was adopted making him the youngest of six}
• Extremely sheltered as a kid by parents and siblings.
• Grew up in smalltown America.
• On one vacation to New York City when seven he fell in love with Broadway.
• Many friends. Zero girlfriends.
• Started college and work.
• Played baseball for his college first two years.
• Did this COMPLETELY on impulse.

The Story

The wind blew on his face and through his hair as Micky rode on his trusty ride down the steep slope. He wasn't supposed to do this but as long as he didn't get caught it was almost as if it didn't happen. Well, as long as his family was concerned. The young man couldn't keep himself from racing around the small town on his bike at any chance he got. It was a good thing he was a skilled rider or else he'd be bruised head to toe all the time.

As he entered the main section of town Micky slowed down as there was the risk of being spotted by his family as he neared Sonic Beats, Ollie and Noelle's music store. He quickly secured his bicycle with not one but two locks and entered his place of work. "I'm here Elle. What did you want to show me?" His sister-in-law looked up at him from the box of new merchandise. Quickly she grabbed a brochure from the table and showed it to him. "Hey, Micky. You've heard of TAP, right? Your mom was mentioning how you have yet to ever go on a date and Ollie mentioned TAP. We all got talking about it, well other than your brothers, and agreed it may be a good idea."

"Oh, I don't know. I don't need a girlfriend that desperately, do I?"

"Well, you don't have to but you should really think about it." Micky shook his head taking the brochure promising he'd give it some thought. However, he completely forgot about it.

Three Weeks Later

Micky shuffled around the stacks of notebooks on his desk until a small brochure fell out and to the floor. Picking up the parchment with an inquisitive glance, "What's this? TAP?" Micky then spent a few moments reading it and finally said, "This sounds cool!"

The Ether

Color Code: saddlebrown
Face Claim: Tye Sheridan
Theme Song: