There were two songs I really wanted to include somewhere in this but I didn't want to disrupt the flow of the formatting more than I already did. Anyway, here's an anchor character.
16 - Scorpio - Sophomore - 5'10" - FKA Twigs
You remember that Dorthy Parker poem? I wonder what she'd say about suicide by zombie...?
Appearance Details
Colmillo, despite constant insistence from her mother, refuses to accept that she is a naturally beautiful girl-- prettier than that, even. It's usually the first thing people notice about her, which is really something, given her height-- standing above some men at 5'10"-- and growing. However these two factors combine to give her an almost otherworldly allure to some, she's heard the comments before, with just a bit of grooming she could be a model. She certainly has the proportions of a model, being incredibly thin, barely having a bust, and long legs. Of course, she herself is rather insecure about her height and tends to slouch to try and avoid the unwanted attention. The girl has practically no muscle mass-- her habits wouldn't allow for it; consisting of sleeping, spending time doing nothing on the internet, more sleeping, staring at nothing for extended periods of time, even more sleeping, listening to the same five albums on repeat to maintain her sanity, and did I mention sleep?
She might have a bit of a gut and less of a skeletal frame, if her diet wasn't completely trash; consisting 97.854% of coffee of whatever variety she can find it in, and her mother's cooking, which is actually quite healthy-- unfortunately Colmillo has a terrible time eating 3 meals a day... or even once most of the time. Often times the food ends up as leftovers doomed to go bad. If she does make the rare attempt to ramble out of her room and eat with her family, she has a tendency to binge on seconds, thirds, and fourths-- before participating in, you guessed it-- sleep. While her metabolism does it's thing.
These bad habits, haven't quite caught up to her yet, failing to detract from the other factors of her natural allure. Such as her natural hair, curly and shoulder length, styled almost daily by her mother in a variety of styles and braids before school-- though she herself prefers to just wear it down, appearing as an almost "Afro-latino mullet" to some. Her mother, a bit of a (compulsive) style guru, at least when it comes to her daughter, also doesn't let her leave the house without at least a little makeup. Mostly to hide the bags under Colmillo's lethargic eyes, and something to compliment her full, plump lips, her skin, young and over-rested, is otherwise unblemished, both by acne and makeup-- barring the scars on her arms and legs from repeated attempts at cutting and outright suicide.
Her nose gives away the Black ancestry on her father's side, despite her love of the man, she is a bit self-conscious about it (like the rest of her body), having bought into Western beauty standards. Another point of anxiety would be her teeth, prematurely yellowed by her coffee addiction, her smiles, rare as they are, tend to be closed mouthed because of this. Her eyes are fully brown, so brown they almost appear completely black, her personal comparison is to compare them to black coffee. Her style can be pretty easily summed up as "unintentional poor goth." Dressing in blacks from top to bottom, her mother forcing all variety of types of clothing on her though. Her outfit of choice would be some variety of band t-shirt, an oversized hoodie, jeans that aren't too skinny, and black Timberlands, her father's shoe of choice.
tl;dr Colmillo has let her mother style her hair for her everyday for the past few years. Though, if given the chance she keeps it simple and just wears her shoulder length curly hair down. The girl can easily be described as beautiful, and given her height, large, doe-like "so brown they're basically black" alluring and mysterious eyes, and near size 0 frame, she's properly seen as modelesque by some. She isn't without flaws though, she tends to slouch, her teeth are a bit yellowed from all the coffee she drinks, her nails are an overbitten mess due to anxiety, and she has scars up and down her arms and legs from repeated suicide attempts. As to what she wears — she likes black, anything Wu-Tang, Fleetwood Mac or band related has a place in her wardrobe. She prefers oversized black hoodies, and jeans that aren't too tight, you know? Maybe even a little baggy. For shoes she sticks with a reliable pair of black Timberlands, just like her Father used to wear. She is a New Yorker at heart.
Characterization
Dysthymic | Suicidal Ideations | Reclusive | Easily Distracted | Quickly Fatigued | Impossibly Calm | Very Patient | And... just a small bit Flirty...
Colmillo Russell-Jones was born to two loving parents, Tyrone Russell-Jones and Maria Baez, in Staten Island, New York some short 16 years ago. Though she was a surprise, her parents took it in stride, getting married shortly after her birth. Her mother, a Puerto Rican debutante looking for work in the city and her father, a New York native through and through, made quite the pair, and though they may have married more out of necessity and lust than actual love, love certainly followed, and the pair showered young Colmillo with it. They didn't have much, barely scraping by, with her father as a construction worker and her mother taking whatever gigs came her way to make ends meet. But the young family was happy.
Even as a baby, a toddler even, she tended to have a withdrawn nature, preferring the company of her parents above all else. This made leaving for day care difficult for Colmillo, and making friends there even harder. Luckily for her, her parents soon gave the friend she'd been longing for in the form of a younger brother. Her father was a Wu-Tang superfan, and had made an agreement with Maria (who had a bit of a love of Fleetwood Mac herself,) before Colmillo was born, that she could name a girl whatever she wanted, but if they ever had a boy, he'd get to name him. And so, as Colmillo was 4, Osiris Russell-Jones was born. The love was not split between the two, but instead doubled, tripled, even--as Colmillo was her own person by this point, walking and talking-- and she wouldn't let her parents forget that.
Often spending more time with the baby than the parents could. Colmillo saw Osiris as her only real friend outside of her parents. She learned to change his diapers, how to heat breast milk just right, getting a head start in teaching the boy how to speak and read and walk as the pair slowly grew. Her compassion and patience for the baby fostered a general compassion and patience for everyone in her from a young age. She often resented her time in school, as it was time spent away from Osiris. Many public school teachers, underpaid and overcrowded, didn't have the time to dig into why she shirked her studies as she went through elementary school. However, a few noted her exceptional leadership abilities, her uncanny calmness for someone her age, and her problem-solving abilities-- despite her tendency to get bullied through all of this. Though, easily distracted, she could work through any problem given enough time if the girl made the choice she wanted to focus on it, especially ones involving other people. Eventually, the teachers who made note of the odd elementary schooler sat down with her parents, explaining they believed that Colmillo quite possibly had ADHD, but that she was also gifted and given proper instruction, she could really excel.
Of course, in the Land of the Free, this meant her parents would need to pay money. More of it than they had-- to get her a proper diagnosis, so that she could get extra time on assignments, as well as get her into a school that could properly focus on a plan focused around her. A school where people might not make fun of her for being a bit slower in some areas, where she wouldn't feel left out, behind a pane of glass watching everyone else. How could a construction worker with occasionally jobs and a part-time caterer afford that? With two kids? In New York? So, it would remain unresolved if she had ADHD, and she could only get so much help from the teachers who actually cared, she floundered her way through elementary school, she was almost held back, even, were it not for her mother nearly threatening to castrate the principle. She has learned to ignore the lessons she didn't like, learned to ignore the bullying and just float through with just enough. After all, she was content, she had her mother and father, and she had Osiris.
If only things could have stayed that way.
When Colmillo was 12, she was out with her brother and father. She can remember the day as if she were living it in this moment. Of course she can, she practically relives it every second she's awake. It was a sunny, sweaty day. A real New York summer. Yellow taxis speed past, people were J-walking, down the block, some kids were playing basketball. Distant sirens and people yelling off their terraces could be heard. The air smelled of fruit stands, freshly fried churros wafting some from bodega. Her father had left them alone, as he wanted to go buy some bootleg movies and looseys from his friend on the corner opposite of them. A movie with the soundtrack by RZA had just come out, and he had to see it. That wasn't irregular, they were only a few blocks away from home, Colmillo knew where he was going, and how to get back home, and Osiris would follow her anywhere-- even so, she always held his hand.
Someone was yelling something about fake jewelry, making a grill for someone. But what caught Colmillo's attention was the distant jingle of an icecream truck, barely audible above the police sirens, but there, about three blocks away. She knew her father wouldn't mind. She asked her brother wanted to race, knowing he did. He was cocky like that. She'd practically raised him, but he certainly didn't get that from her. Probably their father. The pair ran, giddy smiles on their face as they rushed past piles of garbage, junkies harassing kids in the park, and homeless enjoying the sun. She was a few steps ahead of him, careful not to rush to far ahead, she wanted to let him win. She always did. Colmillo went for the Choco Taco when they arrived, because that was simply the best choice. Osiris went for the Sonic Popsicle, with the gumball eyes that looked nothing like Sonic. He was in that phase. The man manning the truck commented on her appearance, saying she could be a model. Colmillo ignored it, she had started getting comments like that once her growth spurt hit, she was used to them by now. Osiris looked like he wanted to punch the man. They paid and began to walk back, enjoying their frozen treats, Colmillo making sure to hold Osiris' hand as they walked.
The stroll back was peaceful, a gentle breeze had swept through. The pair took their time. Talking about something stupid, how Goku couldn't beat SpongeBob in a fight. Osiris was convinced a Kamehameha would end SpongeBob since punches would do nothing to him, Colmillo had to remind him that SpongeBob had survive a nuclear explosion. This sent Osiris into a state of contemplation as he chewed on one of Sonic's eyes. Then they heard it.
A gunshot.
It wasn't the first they had heard, but this one was close. It rand and echoed off the building that surrounded them. Colmillo instinctively put an arm around her brother hand had them both duck to the street. When the ringing stopped, the pair got up, pace quickened to where their father was. From across the street Colmillo could see it-- the bootlegger was dead, blood pooling around him-- what could he have done? Nothing, Colmillo would later find out, except "refusing to comply" quickly enough. Whatever that meant. A cop had his gun pointed at her father. What could you do in a situation like this? She kept asking herself what she could do-- there had to be some way deescalate this, right? Her father hadn't even had the chance to raise his hand before she notice he was no longer holding her hand. Osiris wasn't holding her hand anymore. The 8 year old was running toward his father. Colmillo's eyes were as wide as tea plates-- that definitely wasn't what you were supposed to do. She'd lived here long enough to know that.
She raised her hand helplessly, her throat closed shut. She just needed to force out the right words, right? That would fix this. Say just the right thing and then this could be over, and they could all go back tot heir fun afternoon. But what were they? Why couldn't she say anything? Why couldn't she move? Why was this happening at all? Keep your head down and do what they wanted-- those were the rules. Why--
The cop rounded on Osiris. Shooting instinctively. Without care. The cop shot the kid. He was in survival mode-- what did he care that his target was 100 pounds soaking wet? Of course her father had seen this and reacted faster than her. Still frozen there. He'd seen his son running and began to shout at the cop-- the two probably couldn't even hear each other, blood rushing in their ears. Each for reasons of thinking they and their own were about to die. Osiris crumpled in the middle of the street. Her father tackled the cop the ground, he couldn't think anymore, it would be impossible for him to comply. The gun went sliding along the asphalt of the street as the two hit the ground. Her father pounding the officer's skull against the ground, until red started to appear, cracks and squelches could be heard, and then pink started to appear.
Colmillo, moving without thinking, had made her way to her brother, eyes still wide as the scuffle happened, literal feet away from her. People were shouting around her. More sirens than before could be heard in the distance. She thought her hands were sticky from the ice cream before, but as the warm, dark red blood pooled around her, seeping into everything. Her dress, her socks, her shoes, her hand-- it was everywhere so quickly, gushing out of one small hole. She pressed against the hole, keeping pressure on the wound. She'd seen enough dramas with her mother to at least have some idea that this was what you were supposed to do. And keep him elevated as well? She kept his limp body in her lap like this for what felt like forever. Maybe it was just seconds? Should she shout for a doctor? Or anyone? Why were there so many people doing nothing but looking? She didn't know how to check for a pulse, so she pressed a bloody hand against his shirt, looking for something like a heartbeat. The fact that blood was still slowly pouring out meant it still had to be beating, right?
Colmillo's recollection of this part is a bit fuzzy. At some point she was pulled away from Osiris-- or rather, not pulled. Pulled is too strong a word. Like a tissue being taken from the box, she was gently lifted away. Her father in cuffs, expressing more anger than she could ever know. Two dead men. A Black man shot and a cop with no head left, just red jelly. Her brother in the back of an ambulance. She was placed in the back of a separate car from her father dripping with blood, but she could still see him, raging like something she'd never seen before. She didn't have the vocabulary at the time. Probably still didn't now. But as the engines started, he happened to look at her, through the barred windows, despite the red in his eyes he mouthed 'I love you.'
This would be the last time she would ever see her father.
Her mother, spilling enough tears to clean all of the blood off of her, told her she'd get to see him again. The two spent a long time in the police station. And an even longer time in the hospital, days, as she recalled. Her mother was confident Osiris would pull through, that things would be different, but they'd get through it. At least, those are the words she kept saying. Colmillo said nothing. She couldn't. Not for a long time-- it felt like she was still back there, with the chocolate ice cream sealing up her throat.
She spent months not speaking, her closest attempts at communication were when she would try to kill herself, always thwarted, obviously. Even when Osiris did eventually open his eyes again. Even when her father's trail was over and the two might finally be able to visit him in the penitentiary. Her mother was right. Things were different. The bullet had shattered a good part of Osiris' spine, leaving him paralyzed and wheelchair bound for the rest of his life-- not to add that the shock and sudden blood loss left him mostly catatonic. And her father had "killed himself" in his cell before they could visit him. She was silent through all of this, her mother becoming replaced with the desire to merely keep her daughter close. She quickly made the switch from warm and loving to cool and smothering. Colmillo didn't mind, through all of this, she was all she had. Slowly she began to speak again, to her only at first.
Life goes on. Colmillo eventually went back to her middle school, and no one noticed that she didn't speak. She drifted through the grades, floating like a leaf sustained by D's and C's. Her mother took to making sure her daughter took care of herself, where she couldn't. Many of her interests faded, and simple thing like waking up or showing became monumental tasks for her. For a time, and even to this day-- it was almost as if Maria had two children who couldn't take care of themselves. Despite this, Maria recovered quickly-- always finding just enough work to scrape the three by. They downgraded apartments once. And then again. Selling trinkets and heirlooms along the way. The bills piled, but somehow the woman managed. Working through her own grief, the new needs of her son, and practically dressing and bathing her daughter everyday, all while working 3 jobs-- and she even began dating online.
And you know what's weird? It worked.
A man of a much higher tax bracket took an interest in Maria-- and her two children. By the time Colmillo had failed Freshmen year for the first time in New York. The two were a serious item. Like, moving in serious. Like, let's merge our families Brady Bunch style serious. The man saw something in Maria, a spark of online romance became a flame-- he had her fly out to see him when she could. Even flew out Colmillo and Osiris so they could meet who would later be her step brother and sister. Frederick Westphalen was his name, but he told Colmillo and Osiris to call him Freddy, Colmillo called him Fred. He was ex-military, but you couldn't tell from his frame or demeanor. He was in real estate now. He and her mother bonded over tragedy. He'd lost men who were like brothers to him in the senseless fighting he'd gone through to afford an education. It still woke him up screaming at night. He'd lost his wife to cancer a few years back, it was terrible and slow, but in the end at least they got to say goodbye. He'd lost a lot, and he just wanted to find something with someone who got it, now, you know?
So, when she was 15-- they all moved in together. She began attending Stockbridge Academy as a Freshmen. A big fancy place in the suburbs-- with enough rooms that no one had to share-- she had never had her own room before, with the exception of her mother and her new step-father of course. Colmillo liked him well enough-- he didn't judge her for her sadness, and he never once commented on how 'pretty' she was, when he spoke to her, he treated her as an equal, basically. And while she didn't have it in her heart to love a new father, she could at least respect him. She could appreciate that they both loved her mother. He knew she needed help. Needed therapy and extra assistance with school after being behind in... everything for so long. But he didn't push it on her. He let her spend most of her time in her room, sleeping. He was old enough to know that change had to come from within. He may not have showered her with the endless love of deceased father, but he knew other things about fathering. Colmillo wished the two could have met.
She only passed Freshman year thanks to Fred. As said previously, he didn't push, but he did gently prod. His children, her step-siblings, Gerald and Ashley, were about her age, but had actually skipped a few grades and were close to graduating. Every night, they'd have a set aside study time. Occasionally, a light tap on her door would come from her mother, asking if she wanted to join them. She knew, every time, Fred had put her up to it, and every time Fred knew enough about her to know that despite the fact that she didn't want to, she wouldn't say no. Not to her mother. Those sessions didn't fix the years of academic malnourishment she'd endured-- but it made it easy enough to get consistent C's and even an occasional B. Enough to pass, apparently.
Skip to today. Her mother is a doting housewife, pregnant with her half sibling. Still fusses over Colmillo each morning to get her ready and out of bed, she's her best friend. Osiris, still wheelchair bound, is as close to Fred as he ever was to their biological father, he gladly took up Fred's offer for personal tutors and he's on track to skip 8th grade if he continues at this rate, he plays wheelchair basketball in a league Fred found, and has more friends than attempts Colmillo has made on her own life-- relations between them are strained, Osiris loves her, of course, but Colmillo can hardly look at him. It's her fault he's stuck in that chair after all. Her Step-siblings are cool, they've been nothing but encouraging to her since she's arrived. They pass each other in the hall and they always take the time to greet her, despite her desire to not be seen. And when the library is closed and she can't hide behind a computer for lunch, they let her sit with them, despite being fairly popular seniors. Still, they're not her friends.
Colmillo is the oldest sophomore in the school, she's fairly certain. Her 17th birthday is creeping up. She's yet to do any of the things teenagers are supposed to do. She still struggles in pretty much every subject. She's barely interested in anything besides dicking away time on the internet. She's never had a girlfriend, or even been kissed. She can't let go of the trauma of the past or her sadness in the present. She knows she should see a therapist. She still wants to die...
But, now there's zombies. Dope.
tl;dr Colmillo had a poor, but loving family in New York. She was often bullied in school for being a bit behind due to her penchant for getting distracted and unique ways of solving problems. After witnessing an act of Police brutality that shattered her family. She developed severe clinical depression that has yet to be treated by a professional at the tender age of 12, this would only increase the bullying she endured. Her family somehow managed until she was 15, when her mother moved in with a somewhat wealthy man in Michigan, where she was enrolled in Stockbridge Academy. The bullying is less severe here, as she has learned to better stay hidden. She doesn't have any friends, but two fairly popular step-siblings who go here and invite her to eat lunch with them when she can.
Colmillo is an obviously depressed girl, who has a hidden inner well of deep compassion. She despises violence of all forms and would rather sacrifice herself in some way than have even someone's voice be raised at another. Unfortunately, she typically lacks the resolve to fully see such acts of self-sacrifice though, as she is very self-conscious and tend to overthink things. She rarely smiles, and when she does, it's usually for the sake of others. She's insecure about a lot of aspects of her body and her personality in general. Often feeling she is an "empty" person. She has very little interests besides sleeping, and smoking pot while browsing the internet-- or otherwise completely wasting time. Timid and reserved describe her best, though she can be pushed to action. She has the patience of a saint and has a weakness for pretty women. She secretly wants to be more than what she is right now, but doesn't know to even begin to change.
Inventory
- A black messenger-bag containing: her phone, earbuds, an old school Walkman, 5 CDs (Will be revealed IC, if I'm even accepted lmao), chapstick, used up batteries, a notable under-assortment of school supplies - A thermos with still warm coffee
Fourteen - Libra - Freshman - 4'10" - Shamon Brown Jr.
“!”
Appearance Details
He's a little teapot short and stout. Dontae is a short and rather chubby freshman who is still going through puberty. His Mama (Desirae) would say that "It's just his baby fat, he'll grow out of it!" but his older sister (Mercedes, Seventeen) would bet her life on the fact that he eats nothing but junk food at home. Adorning his face are dark brown eyes that are always framed with his caramel colored bifocals. His hair is black and naturally curly that he likes to keep short. Although born decades after the 90's Dontae's style can be a reflection of the time period. He enjoys bright and bold colors, patterns, and can sometimes even be seen sporting a knock of Gucci fanny pack. He does not wear any makeup or jewelry, and has no prominent scars.
Characterization
Goofball by nature with. Sensitive side by nurture. Dontae is one of the friendliest and outgoing people in his graduating class. He is constantly cracking jokes while trying to showcase his talent as the next hip hop and rap star. He uploads all of his videos on youtube, soundcloud, tiktok, instagram, and even on facebook when his grandma wants to see. Dontae is a mama's boy and isn't afraid to let anyone know it, she raised him and his older sister all by herself in their one bedroom apartment and he thinks the absolute world of her and her accomplishments.
Some would think Dontae plays around too much but he works hard at both his craft and his school work. He is a very good student and tries his best to get good grades. He does not participate in any sports or any after school activities besides hanging out with his friends now and again. He tried out for football this year, but realized that it was a lot more work than he imagined. Basketball tryouts were supposed to be his next attempt at a sport but then everything went down the drain quickly because of the zombies and all.
During this event the young boy has gone through several emotions but has shown a constant positive attitude and despite his age has been very mature and realistic about his decisions. He complains about being hungry often and wishes that he could have a bag of cheetos or a double butter burger basket from Culvers every few hours to his peers.
Inventory
- His fanny pack, empty besides an inhaler - Knock off airpods he got for his birthday in October - A city bus pass
“In the beginning, god like created heaven and like, earth and for what it's worth I think that he might've created me first...and everyone else is just a bad copy.”
▬ Elvina pointed out, to anybody within earshot.
Appearance Details
Elvina treats each and every day as if she were starring as the main model of a runway show; even in sweats or leggings, she carried herself with an air of elegance that could rival a young widow entitled to their late husband's inheritance. Her closet, since middle school, has been inspired by early 2000s fashion meets street fashion. Elvina's hair was where her power resided, expensively set into smooth black waves like the rippling of satin. It was the setting for the presentation of the main act, her face--dimples so worked into her that her smile was more of a flicker of light across a blade, a rarity. Her eyes, of the usual brown, didn't encourage familiarity, the basic portrayal of a "resting bitch face." Her biggest imperfection was the small beauty mark falling under her right right earlobe, all in plain sight if not hidden by her hair. For Elvina, any mark on her face ruins the high standards she keeps her self-image at.
Standing at five-three in her socks, Elvina's body was petite but of average measurements when it comes down to her interpretation. She doesn't have the hourglass proportions that she deems perfection so instead creates the illusion of it with her clothing choice.
Characterization
Vanity was the beginning and end of Elvina's character; oftentimes, people forgetting the inbetweens. At her best, Elvina is egotistical and self-assertive--creating her own atmosphere regardless of where she goes. However, because of how strong the color of her personality is, people would often assume the worst of her (which wasn't too far from the truth.) Her pride sky-rockets when she's in social situations and normally is the one trait that keeps her from making immoral decisions--willfully owning up to her mistakes simply because she wouldn't deny the thought-process that led to that decision.
She's constantly told that her honesty can be over the top which is something she learned from growing up in a household with caretakers who had nothing to hide from each other. Elvina lives with her aunt (from her mother's side) and her partner; her parents died when she was barely 6 years old. Her memory of her parents are a clouded haze so her connection to her aunt is as honest as it gets. In terms of personal relations, Elvina rarely connects with someone enough to consider them a friend. As her aunt constantly points out, in a poor attempt to psychoanalyze her, Elvina is afraid of commitment. Elvina, on the one hand, believes that people just aren't interesting enough to keep around since they play the same old tune over and over and over again.
As a result, Elvina has never truly belonged to a clique. She would interact with others on a minimal level, oftentimes ending just at greetings, which made her seem lonelier than she actually felt. She didn't care since her own company was the best company she could have and being her last year of high school, she figured there were bigger stages awaiting just months away. Although Elvina was never really tolerated in most of the clubs she attempted to join (that and how easily she lost interest) she still built up enough stamina and her reflexes from playing volleyball with her caretakers.
Elvina and parties went together as perfectly as vanilla ice cream and sprinkles; her go-to escape from life would be crashing the high school house parties, showing off her carefully tailored outfit, drinking some, eating some, instigating drama, and leaving once she lost interest. A lot of what Elvina portrays is what she wants people to see in her, so a lot of the times no one would have guessed that Elvina would never dye her hair or cut it. She's also a big fan of reptiles and hopes to own a crested gecko when she's older. Also she's slightly self-conscious of her hands, since she tends to sweat easily, and the fact that she can't whistle--to the point of frustration.
Unfortunately, you can only trust Elvina as far as you could throw her. She's the type to make decisions based upon her overall comfortableness and well-being. That being said, she's not cruel with her decision-making but she had never been placed in a situation where she needed to wage the possibility of her life over others. Due to her failure to commit to people and her prideful character, the safe assumption that she would choose herself over others with no remorse is only right.
Inventory
- A cheetah print purse containing a small makeup bag, her emergency snacks and a small notebook that's printed with the Aquarius constellation. - Her house keys that are wrapped with various of decorations that her aunt gifted her whenever she traveled for work. - Her smartphone that's wrapped in a tight pink case, no scratches or cracks are seen. - A nail filer.
“You're damned if you do anyway, so why not have a little fun with it while you can?”
Appearance Details
Standing just shy of six feet, Elliot is quite tall which, along with her style, makes her quite intimidating at a glance. Her day-to-day school attire ranges from the black leather vests and ripped denim with studded accessories that would make a BDSM enthusiast blush to vulgar-sounding graphic tees of bands. Most infamously was when she told a teacher that the reason the 'C' on her 'AxC' shirt looked like a certain reproductive system was because the name of the band was 'Anal Cunt'. They made her wear her gym shirt the rest of the day.
Elliot has three piercings: her septum and her ears and for her seventeenth birthday her dad let her get a tattoo which is above her left ankle. It's an Empire logo from Star Wars. Her dad got a matching Republic logo. Her hair has been an undercut bob since sophomore year and at this point she shows no signs of changing it. She pulls it off, why change that.
She's not an athlete but she does have biceps that don't go unnoticed - especially when she wears her favored 'vest and sleeveless punk tee' combo; the arm strength comes from having to be her own roadie though she's not a stranger to the gym, she just doesn't have a specific routine or regimen, but having to load up a drum kit and shitty amps requires more than just noodle arms.
Characterization
Few people at Stockbridge are as defined as their reputation as Elliot Springfield and most of that she is willing to play into. Most students don't know her as 'Elliot Springfield', that's her stage name; most know her as either 'a terrible influence' or Eleanor Stadler, the girl who shows up to school looking like she came out of a magazine for leather punks. It's easy to accuse Elliot of wrong doings or of being 'that kind of girl' because of how she presents herself. As the lead singer (more of a wailer, really) and guitarist of a garage punk band currently calling themselves 'The Sex Magnums' - whose second concern after finding a permanent name was convincing the administration to let them play prom - Elliot does carry some of the mannerisms of a punk rock type. While not blatantly anti-authority, she's quite prone to slip profanity in front of teachers which certainly made an impression when she was a Freshman and the other Freshman in her class gasped at the audacity.
Naturally, Elliot can be incredibly loud and outspoken, brash and garish, which is where much of her reputation comes from, apart from her style. While she doesn't cut class or go behind the building at lunch to smoke, she acts like the kind of person who does, and on more than one occasion she's been the fall girl for some of the pranks and disturbances her 'friends' have pulled. Whether or not that makes her stupidly loyal or just stupid is up to the individual, but the fact that she's done more detention despite never doing anything worse than telling a teacher that "John Steinbeck is fuckin' boring, five hundred pages about how shit it was for the Joads and it ends like shit" probably lends more towards stupid more than anything else. The number of infractions on her record was a key factor as to why Elliot wasn't going to be valedictorian at graduation despite being in the top five academically in her year.
Despite her reputation and appearance and the fact that she carries herself as a troublemaker still, Elliot is incredibly intelligent both academically and generally. She's been on the honor roll all four years but the only ones who knew were her parents and her teachers, along with the guidance counselor constantly telling her that there's nothing wrong with being smart. Elliot agrees with the sentiment, of course, but in her eyes if people already look at her and think they have her entire self figured out, then it's their fault for making assumptions and not her job to show them otherwise. It's flawed logic, but she also once thought "Rectal Prolapse" was a good idea for a band name because their music "was gonna make people shit their pants!"
One might assume that Elliot had some kind of poor upbringing but it was more boring than anything else. She's quite fortunate in that regard, the most she had to deal with was divorce. Her mother was something of a serial bigamist so when her father caught her in bed with a neighbor and one of her co-workers (not at the same time), what choice did James Stadler have other than to file for divorce? Veronica Stadler, nee Webber, thought her only daughter would stay with her and they could be 'like sisters' but Elliot chose her father and the pair of them moved into a small ranch house, the same one belonging to Elliot's grandparents and where her father grew up. It was left to James in his parents' will. Her father is her best friend, he was the one who bought her her first instrument even if it was one of those baby drum kits for toddlers to bang on - it counted. James Stadler was not a man of means, he earned an honest living as a mechanic, and that was enough to get by. Elliot often helped him fix up old cars for free and their passion project was fixing up a 1970 Pontiac GTO which was then given to Elliot as a sweet sixteen present. She loves that car.
Perhaps because of the wall of expectation and reputation that has been built around her, Elliot never really made a lot of friends over her four years. Sure, she'd covered for people and taken their punishments but she'd hesitate to call them friends. Her band mates are the only ones in her phone other than her dad; at school most of the other students seem to either be intimidated by her or put off by her because of what they heard. One of the rumors going around in her senior year was that the only reason she hadn't been expelled was because she was doing something illicit with the principal, or had some incriminating evidence against the principal, or something equally as stupid as high school rumors go. Though she would claim otherwise, her lack of a true best friend or an active social life is one of the regrets she'll carry with her. When she's so caught up in what other people think of her, she sort of forgot to care about herself.
Inventory
- Pair of Vic Firth drumsticks - Half of a bologna sandwich, likely squashed now - A wallet/keychain with $30, a library card, keys to her car, insurance card, and various other items of no real benefit in the situation - Brought a guitar case to school; is not on her person
19 - Capricorn - Senior Year - 6'0" - Diego Barrueco
“Where did I get the flask? A magician never reveals his tricks. Why am I drinking? Hah! I'm not sure if you missed it but I got front row seats to see fat fucking Bobby taking a bite out of Mr. Roberts' God damn neck, that's not something I can unsee for a while. So, until then, cheers.”
Appearance Details
Tony is by most standards, an average looking guy. People tend to note his tall and lanky build, and that he looks older than most seniors. His chocolate colored hair naturally curls, so he let it grow out, but shaved the sides of his head short, creating an undercut style. If he's feeling particularly interested in his hair, he'll throw some pomade into it, but most of the time he keeps it naturally unruly and loosely styled. While his eyebrows give him a more serious demeanor, his bronze-colored eyes seem softer and more alert. Tony's nose is a little long and while it once sat straight, it now has a slight curve to it from being broken at least twice. Stubble swathes his chin and mouth and is usually trimmed weekly, but it's not something he pays too much attention to. Tony could be described as athletic, but this has more to do with his love of Sport Climbing than hitting the gym every day, which he doesn't do. Being outdoors as often as he is, paired with his Latino ancestry, Tony has lightly-tanned skin that freckles under the sun. As far as wardrobing goes, Tony wears clothes he finds most comfortable. Typical outfits consist of long-sleeved shirts rolled up to the elbows, sometimes covered by hoodies, depending on the weather, along with either dark jeans or joggers.
Characterization
Tony, when described by other people, is often characterized as chaotic, impulsive, and brutally honest. Though Tony would be inclined to agree with those assertions, he believes the reasons why he acts the way he does justifies those actions. Being the devious troublemaker that he is, Tony is normally high energy and continuously looking for ways to self-amuse - usually at the expense of others. To Tony, there is nothing more important than the present moment that he's in. And while this can lead to exciting adventures and stories, it's also why he's so damn impulsive and rarely considers the future or possible consequences for his actions. He adopted this adventurous, care-free lifestyle not only because of his upbringing, but because of his own personal values as well.
Anthony Morillo was the only child of a lawyer and a mechanical engineer who had rigid expectations of how a family and their son should act. Family dinner, every Monday night, no exceptions. According to his parents Tony was to grow up and do something useful for the world, because dead weight gets left behind when times get tough. In school, he was to be nothing short of an exemplar student, the top one percent. Hah! In their dreams.
One thing to know about Tony is that he has a way of cutting through the bullshit and getting straight to the point. He knew he wasn't the smartest kid in school, so why try to fake it? He would just be himself and speak his truth, and if that wasn't enough or if people disliked him for it, then so be it. Being raised by critical thinkers and lovers of science taught Tony to question everything, but also led him to take on a nihilistic view of life. He believes that in the grand scheme of things his time on Earth is rather short and when his time comes, he doesn't want to be burdened with the regrets and "what ifs." Since he wasn't raised religious, Tony is an atheist, choosing to reject dogmatic ideology and instead pick life. In his mind, the universe has no meaning, it just is, he believes it's up to each individual to find their own meaning in life, that's the whole point.
Tony lives as though every day, hour, and minute is his last. His view on life is another reason why he sees honesty as his highest value. If he could die at any moment then lying is pointless, and being anything other than himself is a cardinal sin. But growing up, one doesn't really know themselves, tastes change, new values are adopted and old ideals are discarded, and things go wrong. Trying to find out who he was as a person made Tony provocative, competitive, and rebellious growing up. His parents would tell him to do something and he would do the opposite, he really hates being told what to do. His teachers would assign homework and Tony would hand it in late just to show them they were on his time, and not the other way around. Though it definitely wasn't the best way to go about it, Tony was constantly testing, accepting, and rejecting new ideals and values in relation to how he should live his life. And if things got too boring for him, he would make it fun for himself, through jokes, competition, or being an asshole just for the hell of it. This earned him detentions and trips to the principal's office, but he never seemed to mind too much. He even got held back in the 5th grade for fighting too much. They even stuck him in a behavioral program for his "violent outbursts," though he would describe it as "standing up for my opinions."
It was when he got to high school when he truly began to discover his own interests and hobbies. He began taking drum lessons, learned how to cook (microwave mac n' cheese gets old after a while and his parents normally work well into the night), and started investing some time into Sport Climbing at a local rock climbing gym. These hobbies allowed him to vent some of that chaotic energy into something creative and useful rather than destructive. Drugs became an interest during this time too. Parties were the epitome of teen anarchy, and he loved to bask in the glory of all that sweet, sweet chaos. Tony knew how to have a good time and he loved roping people into his adventures, though they weren't always safe, they were journeys people wouldn't quickly forget. When it came to people's opinions of him, they tended to be polarized towards him, either they loved him or they hated him. That seemed to be consistent with the trend, he was an "all or nothing" sort of guy. The crazy part is that during his senior year, after all this self-discovery and self-growth, the shit went and hit the fan. His nihilistic philosophy on life? Out the window (life can't be meaningless in the apocalypse because all life is necessary for the survival of the species). All those hobbies he went through the trouble of partaking in? Relatively useless. But hey, Tony's going to keep doing what he's always done, have a little fun, loosen up, fuck it, it's the end of the world.
Inventory
- Wallet (ID, cash, old condom) - Smartphone - Backpack (school supplies,, a protein bar, a flask) - Keys
“I’d like to think I try my best not to step on ants.”
Appearance Details
Neatly messy would be the best oxymoron to describe Xan. In an oddly satisfying way, his natural dark curls bend and coil in all directions with a distinct volume. His features are dark and thick from the amount of hair on his eyebrows to his lined-up beard. A single mole is one of two distinct facial features, the other being his malformed nose from an incident that he never really recovered from. Xan isn’t particularly physically inclined, so his slim body paired with his height make for an almost lanky appearance. His style stays within the realm of monochromatic colors mixed with a modern touch of fashion often branching off into a semi business casual.
Characterization
Having been home schooled for nearly all his life has rather stumped Xan’s social growth. Xan has your standard introvert load out mixed with a homebody. Xan never did guess why his parents decided to teach him from home rather than a public school. Maybe it was the crime rate moving on the up and up or perhaps it was just because the hustle and bustle of the streets of New York City would be too much for him. Regardless of whatever their reasons were, he never complained nor wanted to change what wasn’t broken. His parents never kept him from exploring his options or interests, instead the opposite, supportive and investing all their morale in boosting their sons.
This later manifested in two hobbies that went hand in hand. One was his love and fascination with insects, which led to his passion for Entomology otherwise known as the study of insects. Not only was he fascinated by them, but he collected them by the barrel, well figuratively speaking. Whether it was live insects to keep as pets or dead ones he preserved and labeled with the proper species and genus, Xan found his true calling. This worked in tandem with his second hobby which was drawing. How exactly was drawing and insects connected? Well, he drew all the insects he discovered and cataloged them in a sort of bestiary if you will, but for insects contrary to mythical creatures. His art was mostly focused in charcoals and fine ink accompanied with cursive writing to capture all the information needed to know in case he was ever stuck in the wild.
His hobbies only strengthened his curiosity and willingness to learn, always questioning people and things until he got answers that made sense to him. While he didn’t like to interact per say, knowing the answer took precedence in his mind thus pushing him out of his comfort zone from time to time. This could come off as annoying to some since people don’t like to be challenged or refuted, but Xan has no ill intent. It wasn’t until recently that Xan wanted to expand his understanding of the world outside the walls of his house and the insect exhibitions in the Museum of Natural History.
And so halfway through his high school career his parents decided to move to Michigan as only the most prestigious of schools would suffice for their sons natural learning talents. With that, Xan found himself as the new kid at Stockbridge academy, where we mostly kept to himself and his studies while learning how to conform to social norms. Being the new kid usually lent itself to having a free pass into the social hierarchy for any high school, but sadly it was passed up by Xan as he didn’t know how to completely capitalize on it. So, he suffered from the condition where you’re popular but not popular enough to really mesh in any group to the point you could call people your friends.
So, for now, Xan prefers to keep his head down and spend his time in the art club where he feels less constrained by the weary eyes around him. Who knows, maybe if he survives High School then College could be different for him.
Inventory
- Uni Pen 200 - Insect Diary - Feather forceps - Magnifying hand lens
Deadline for sheets to be in for review and possible acceptation is today at 12 AM PST.
We're taking 10-12 applicants at most, which caps the group at 12-14 (including GMs in this total), give or take.
It's a few past that, so review/acceptance will come sometime today and we'll talk about how we want to handle going forward. Any CSs posted after this message will have to be considered for the reserve list--for future chapters of the role-play. So if you didn't make the timeline, I'm sorry about that.