Name: Barney Rynsburger

Age: 24

Arcana: the Chariot

Appearance: At 6’2” and 240 lbs, Barney’s a broad-shouldered, stocky man particularly notable for a head of trimmed dark russet curls and a decently well-kept ducktail beard that’s a lot redder than his hair. All this plus the intentful cast of his brow and the slight hook of his broad nose would make him look formidable and maybe even intimidating if not for a pair of big, watery dark brown whose roundness suggest a permanent state of slight surprise. He doesn’t stoop or slouch, but he still seems to take up less space than his frame would imply.

On any given day this time of year, he can be found in a two-toned harrington tartan jacket, with white sleeves and trim on a red coat with that characteristic plaid pattern on the inside. Beneath that he wears a comfortable cotton crewneck sweater, white, with a pair of rectangular reading glasses hanging from the neck. A pair of dark brown, low wale corduroys plus black sneakers complete the outfit. He doesn’t really accessorize, other than a small metal cross necklace from his mother, but sometimes wears a tartan beanie.

Personality: Its easy, and not necessarily wrong, to look at Barney Rynsburger and see a pretty ordinary guy. He’s pleasant with a quietly cheery outlook, considerate, and good at casual conversation even if not the most outgoing. Although he avoids conflict and is not very assertive he isn’t lacking in self-esteem, instead giving off the impression of someone who’s got himself together, a pal who can be counted on to lend a hand when needed.

Most notable is his sense of duty. Barney is a principled fellow, possessed of a potent personal and work ethic, who does his best to be seen as strong and dependable. Although never one to boast, he’s secretly happy that people sometimes call him ‘responsible’ or ‘selfless’. Not a man of half-measures, he holds himself to a high standard and takes his commitments and responsibilities seriously. He’s stubborn, both in a way that allows him to persevere through hardship and in a way that sometimes makes it hard to deal with changes. He’s not an impulsive decision-maker and prefers time to think things through and choose the path that’s best for everyone, which is partly why its tough to convince him to change tact once he’s gotten started. His sense of duty extends to the bigger picture, too. He puts too much of himself into his work, his choices, and the level of help he provides to others, making him sensitive to criticism and easily crestfallen. Neither a genius nor naturally talented, he’s gotten where he is through hard work, which sometimes leads him to quietly looks down on those who put no effort into their lives, or to get frustrated by people who get results easily. Since he sees himself as a considerate and logical thinker, he can get defensive if questioned, but rather than get into confrontations he prefers to withdraw and mind his own business.

Of course, he’s mostly aware of his own shortcomings, and doesn’t actually hold himself in that high regard. In fact, most of his sense of worth comes from what he can do for others. He’s certainly not one to give vent to his pains and conflicts, believing that people might see him as weak and unreliable. As such, the image of an earnest, modest hard worker holds firm, even if he’s seemed much more tired, anxious, and sunken for a long time now.

Bio: The son of the Dutchman Rutger Rynzburger and Mexican mother Fernanda Suárez in Barclay, Barney learned two things from a tender age. One was that his family was poor, not disastrously so, but enough that things were always shaky and in question. The other was the value of hard work. His parents had tough lives of their own, and after doing their best for a long time they wanted to make sure that their children would have better lives than they. It was a challenging, unkind world, but the good life their faith promised ( and all the comfort, wealth, and companionship it entailed) could be earned through one’s blood, sweat, and tears--that was what Cassie, Leanne, and Barney came to believe. They were taught to put others’ needs first, be responsible and capable, and to do what they were told. Even if hardship weighed down upon them, the pressure would forge them into diamonds in the rough, and one day everything they desired would be theirs.

That meant going to college, but by the time the siblings got out of high school at the age of eighteen, there wasn’t anywhere near enough money to put the three of them through school. To make matters worse, their struggling parents were in contention; eighteen had been the agreed-on age at which they’d turn their children loose, but while Barney’s dad saw the state of things and wanted to keep trying to help their children, however hard that might be, his mom had been dying to be relieved of the burden and told him they couldn’t. In the end the two split up, with the divorce turning messy, and suddenly it was everyone for themselves.

The siblings entered the workforce to gain experience and money, and quickly found out just how heavy the weight of the world could be. Finding work was hard enough, but when one entry-level job proved itself insufficient, and all three were forced to seek extra employment just to figure out living situations. They kept in contact as they struggled for two years to make ends meet, without a lot of time for socialization or recreation. Eventually, Cassie found a way out in the form of a well-to-do young man looking for love, and after angrily pushing away her siblings for their disapproval, she quickly got with him. Another year of working and saving passed before Leanne abruptly seemed to drop off the face of the earth, after which Barney got calls from his parents within the span of a week. His mom was in debt and badly needed his help, which Barney could scarcely decline. His dad, meanwhile, had started up a new business that was sure hit, and asked him for a little investment. Hesitant but knowing the right thing to do to save his family, Barney shelved his plans of finally going to college for now and helped out as much as he could.

Some time later, Barney learned through his mom something that happened to Cassie. She’d been hospitalized, supposedly by falling down some stairs, although everyone involved had their own ideas about what happened. Her oddly nonchalant boyfriend said that he couldn’t foot the medical bills, and with nobody else able to pick up the slack, Barney lent his aid. At this point he was twenty-four, and though things weren’t pretty he realized he would probably never have a chance at college if he didn’t go now. In fact, he reasoned that it might help him out, serving as a sort of escape from his previous situation that might encourage the others to try and get money elsewhere. Going into debt was a desperate move, and it didn’t pay off. When the school year began, the twenty-four-year-old freshman realized all too soon that nothing had changed. He still needed to work, he still needed to send his relatives money, and now he had even more on his plate. He had no time. He wasn’t getting anywhere near enough sleep. Thanksgiving break was the first time he felt as if he could even breathe, but those scant few days passed quickly, and as he’s poised to return to school the lungful of air he received makes the sense of impending doom that much worse.

Scars: Barney is being crushed under the weight of responsibility as he struggles to earn the money so many people need from him, but at the end of the day, they’re still family. It would be a death blow to his moral code and reputation to turn his back on them--he would be heartless, selfish, alone and unacceptable. Scum. Time is running down with his principles and wellbeing on the line, begging the question which, if either, will give first.

Appearance: Barney’s Shadow is the spitting image of a grand saint, in big white robes trimmed with silver. A crown is inlaid in the klobuk he wears on his head, and the split ends of his majestic cape curl upward behind him. A prison collar of solid silver is clasped around its neck along with the cuffs on his wrists, with the glittering chains wound all around him, worn and displayed proudly.

Personality: The distortion both of the Metaverse and deep within Barney’s own heart have brought forth a Shadow with an egomaniacal savior complex. He sees himself not just as a saint for all the generosity, kindness, and effort he’s given others, but a martyr for being so excessively, self-effacingly benevolent. He glorifies pain and captivity, his own in particular, believing that’s what makes someone a good person--and of course, makes him the best of all, leagues above anyone else. As such he looks down upon others with suffocating condescension while expecting their ceaseless thanks and praise.

Territory: As one travels through the cognitive world called the Metaverse, that shadow-blanketed battlefield of the mind, one might find the desolate, scarred streets and ruins of the warzone giving way to mazelike walls and walkways of white stone and wrought iron, immaculate and fanciful, standing before a skyline blotted not by decrepit skyscrapers but gleaming towers and spires. Proceeding inward across these hallowed grounds, past innumerable little shrines, fountains, spotless silver torture devices, and statues all done up with silks and waxy candles, would bring an inquisitive visitor to the doorstop of the grand Baroque cathedral that stands above it all. There, Shadows gather in supplication, not to an altar, but to a throne, where a locus of distortion has edified himself as their object of worship. Visual aide

Persona Identity: Gregor Samsa
Persona Appearance: Unlike many Personas Samsa is not humanoid--far from it. He is an arthropoidal aberration, a wretched cross of centipede and lobster. His segmented rosy-brown carapace, interspersed by protruding spikes here and there, protects stretched, purple flesh beneath. Six bone-tipped legs extend from its abdomen, accompanied by a pair of sickle arms far more ghoulishly spiked than any earthly mantis. Six sapphire-blue eyes gleam above a mouth of needle-like teeth and a pair of spiked pedipalps. Truly, Gregor Samsa is a monstrous vermin.
Specialty: Physical (Terror, Memory)
Element: Nuclear
Weakness: Curse

Callsign: Creature
Metaverse Appearance: Despite his callsign and the hideous appearance of his Persona, Creature is clothed in the Metaverse with crisp, flowing attire darkly clerical in appearance. A loose dark blue cassock with iron buttons down the front lies over a collared shirt, heavy-duty work pants, and boots. On top is a dark blue greca complete with shoulder cape, along with a matching wide-brimmed hat. The outfit is functional rather than fanciful and lacks ornamentation of any kind save the dog tag around his neck, visible for all to see. Here’s a rough example
Melee Weapon: A wagon wheel, primarily wood but with metal banding. It’s heavy and bulky, but the extra handles attached to it allow one with enough strength to swing it around or punch with it as a brutal melee weapon. In a pinch it also doubles as a shield against anything big enough to not pass through the spokes
Ranged Weapon: A Flamethrower that funnels a spread of vivid blue Nuclear-aspected ‘fire’. His default is a ramshackle model of twisted steel pipes

Name: Dakota Rhett

Age: 22

Arcana: The Star

Appearance: Standing at 165cm and weighing in at just under 130lbs, Dakota isn't the tallest guy you'll see in a crowd. Sporting brown eyes and a head of black hair with orange highlights that goes nearly down to the center of his back, he has a fair complexion and smooth skin to give him a rather childish face to go with his pearly-white smile. His posture isn't too bad, though he does slouch on occasion, mostly when stomping about or just moping. An exposed torso would show some surgery scars, a rather jarring sight compared to the rest of his body which seems pristine and well-cared for.

A fan of darker colors despite his highlights, the majority of his clothes lineup is a mixture of black and greys, an undershirt in black for his waistcoat in gray, though sporting the usual colorful blue jeans in most situations, boot-cut to not cover up a pair of brown shoes, full upper leather though not exactly the priciest if you cared enough to know that sort of thing.

For accessories, he's usually wearing a silver chain or two on his neck, and a pair of sunglasses hanging from the neck of his shirt. An assortment of small rubber armbands usually jiggling loosely on his wrists, mainly seeming to be freebies from occasional concerts. He also has a silver stud in his left ear, though lacks any other piercings. The only other notable difference to the average joe is his black fingernails.

Personality: Dakota is an enthusiastic and kindhearted individual, the sort to help you carry something when you're overburdened, or at least hold a door open. Simply walking away is something he isn't able to do easily, his usual joyful demeanor perhaps laying on the niceness a little thick sometimes, even if it's all genuine. One could consider him annoying, but he'd mostly brush this off depending on how harsh it's said. He understands personal space, and while he's happy to invade it for what he thinks is a good cause, he's also self-aware enough to realize enough is enough and back away when he's bothering someone.

One to overly romanticize a situation, occasionally he can come off as a bit of a ditz with his joyful antics. He finds momentary joy in small things, trying to stay optimistic. He's also a passionate soul, especially when it comes to music. The joy it brings to him and those around him is something irreplaceable, giving him life like nothing else. Recent developments have taken a lot of that away, but he's stubborn and determined enough to keep singing as a part of his life, even with the strife it causes.

Despite the positivity he likes to exert, attempting to stop him from enjoying his favorite things in life can lead to mild aggressiveness on his part: Wanting to push himself for the sake of his life's passion. Despite the fact he talks big however, he's not exactly brave enough to push himself too far for his own personal enjoyment, considering himself a coward for not putting himself on the line for what he loves. Not one to want to bother other people means he doesn't often confide in them, leading to a lot of pent up irritation that is boiling over at this current point in his life.

Regardless of his frustrations, he tries his best for other people. A friend that'd have your back, a person that will listen despite not knowing how to communicate about his own issues very well. He'd much rather pull other people out of feeling the same way he does by doing anything he can, than see them suffering as well. He's not so naive to think it's just as easy as giving a pep talk, though...

Bio: Dakota was born into a middle-class household, with a busy father and mother. This left him mostly raised by his grandmother, who gave him the love and support he needed to grow into a half-decent young man like he is today. Though his grandmother wasn't always the playful sort, instead trying to find distractions for the young boy, one of which was always effective was the radio. Music in general caught on with him from an early age, from him boogieing down in his living room as a five year old, to the actually musically interested boy he became as time passed.

He often sang around the house, while at the store, sometimes even in school which got him into trouble on occasion. He fiddled with multiple instruments over the years, but always found the most comfort with his singing voice, starting to look to express himself in any way he could. One such way was doing musical covers and uploading them online for others to see. (Under the username Rhetty) He wasn't astoundingly popular, but for being the older teen he was, it made him happy. This evolved into him getting into a small band (Simply called 'The Spark') with some friends, dividing his time between his online content and pulling off small gigs across town with his pals. It was a life worth living, and he appreciated it to no end.

On occasion, he would feel chest pains, or shortness of breath. Where others showed concern, he insisted he was fine and that nothing was wrong. He was simply tired from the performances they put on, is all. But uncertainty kept in his mind when it also happened around his home, his ever-older growing grandmother expressing her own worries. Feeling fine, or at least insisting to himself he was, he ignored such concerns to instead press on with his gigs.

This all started going downhill, unfortunately. A moment of pride, Dakota getting wound up over some words that lead to a competition with an opposing band. Not a huge event by any means, but to the groups involved it was serious business. He put his heart into his vocals, but was never intended to finish the event: The pain in his chest had been bad from the start, and only got worse the further in they got. Immense fatigue brought him to the ground, an ambulance being called, and thankfully responding in time to take in the boy and save his life.

The doctor said it was 'primary spontaneous pneumothorax', a lung puncture that they couldn't identify the exact cause of. It took 8 weeks of recovery for him to leave with instructions that hurt his soul. His singing career was on hold indefinitely, as too much work on his lungs after the incident could cause damage to his heart, or another puncture. He'd never sing again, at least in such a loud and vigorous fashion as he was passionate about. It was devastating, and left him feeling quite empty. He only hoped to find some sort of comfort once he was out of the hospital, though nothing of the sort happened.

His band left him behind. A subtle guise of him needing rest trying to block the louder fact that a low-performance vocalist was useless to them. Word traveled fast and nobody else wanted him, either. Growing frustrated, he's tried to keep his content online flowing smoothly along, but even that began to hit a snag as his condition keeps him from delivering on his usual schedule, finding his comments littered with numerous insults and complaints that only killed his energy further, making it hard to find any sort of comeback. Trapped between thinking of himself as weak and cowardly for not pushing himself harder, and being afraid of the effects of pushing him self in such a way, he hasn't yet found any sort of reprieve from these events.

He's come to Waterfront University in the hope of finding something else to do with his life, or at least be distracted by classes as to not waste his life just sitting around. He's been unable to focus since arriving, and doesn't seem to be making much progress on discovering an alternate lifepath for himself. Some might wonder if this was a waste of what resources he had, and that by the end he'd be just as lost as when he started. He could definitely see it as a possibility.

Scars: Check the literal scars on his torso. It's a reminder that what's under there is worthless to achieve his goals, and that he'll never amount to a singing star like he wanted to. Not able to do a full song cover or jog too far without nearly falling over from a need for air has lead him to losing the small popularity he had, and he now sits in the shadow of his former self, envious and upset at himself for being weak enough to let this happen. Especially since there's no fixing it back to pristine condition, meaning there's no road back to where he was.

Appearance: Shadow Dakota takes his aesthetic to a new level, strapped head-to-toe in clothes flowing with legitimate neon lights that could blind a person looking at him for too long. A brightly-colored jumpsuit with a popped collar, and a large scarf that flows in a wind that seems to just exist by his mere presence. He has star-shaped shades, except the lenses are shattered, revealing his yellow eyes for all to see. His hair is in a ponytail, with the mess atop his head being slicked back. His chains and stud are both golden in color rather than Dakota's regular silver.

If it were to be angered, who knows what it could potentially turn into? One could pray that nobody has to find out.

Personality: Shadow Dakota is all the anger his weaker self allows to build up. His tone is bombastic, always posing with his mic and shouting out that nobody controls him, and only he makes the rules. All the pride he has in himself and his former abilities come out here, believing himself to truly be the cream of the crop, just damned by fate. He is willing to violently lash out at anyone who would endanger his way of life, wanting to say to hell with fate! He carves his own path, no matter the cost! Having no time for sniveling or cowardice when he just wishes to feel full from his previous occupation.

He tires of feeling the need to please everyone: Wishing to live for himself at any cost, as why is there a need to have any fear or regard for safety? Put it all on the line, just for the sake of enjoying life for whatever time's left! These are the things Shadow Dakota lives for, and though put to extremes beyond their limits, they are in some regard thoughts that reside in Dakota, too. In the end, in the way Dakota has wandered to University to try and find a path now that he's lost, Shadow Dakota has lost himself in his passion and expresses the madness such disregard for life can cause.

Territory: A star needs his place to perform... Shadow Dakota's territory is essentially a wide stage inside an entertainment hall, where he eternally rocks on as shadows cheer as a crowd and submit to his every whim. The only sources of light being the flashing neon lights in the sky, serving as both a presentation for Shadow Dakota and as searchlights for potential intruders to his domain. If someone were to get backstage through a side route, they'd find that there's a perfectly average backroom. A place where, perhaps, Shadow Dakota lets his guard down. A place where he calms, to an extent, and relaxes.

But a star always wishes for you to keep your eyes on stage, and never think about the potential troubles in the back...

Name: Nick Waller

Age: 21

Arcana: The Hermit

Appearance: Nick is a lithe young man, standing at about 5’6” and weighing 135-ish pounds. His muscles are tight and lean, hardly noticeable save for on his legs, where his running has built him noticeable calves and thighs. His face is round and baby-ish, hidden beneath a perpetual 5 o’clock shadow kept specifically to hide that baby face. His eyes are a deep emerald, the skin around them marred by perpetual dark bags.

His hair is kept simple, a light brown never allowed to grow longer than an inch, and otherwise unstyled. His skin is ever-so-lightly tanned but definitely not what one would call remotely dark, despite the Texas sun.

Clothing-wise, during Nick can typically be found in his favorite jacket, a tan American Eagle No. 01977 with faux fur lining. Warm, durable, and waterproof enough, Nick actually liked this jacket enough to get a second one, and he swaps them out every once in a while to keep them in good shape. Underneath he wears t-shirts, and only t-shirts, typically with some graphic design, or a comedic or irreverent phrase written on it. He favors cargo pants and rarely wears jeans, though on some days he will wear a pair of chinos if he’s feeling fancy. His legwear is typically neutral or earth-tone, to match with the tan jacket. Finishing his standard outfit is a pair of well-worn but still fairly decent black sneakers.

Nick rarely accessorizes, save for his plain olive green backpack, which hardly counts in his opinion.

Underneath his clothes, his lower back and hips are littered with horizontal stretch marks, which, after a few minor incidents, have resulted in worsening problems with his self-image. On his back, over his heart lies a fist-sized burn scar from a minor medical mishap with a UV lamp and a newborn Nick that thankfully left no actual long-term complications.

Personality: Nick is, to the casual observer, a man with two fronts: At times, he is bombastic, loud, comedic, talkative, irreverent, and very open about what he thinks. But he can also be quiet, withdrawn, introspective and even downright isolationist. It’s earned him few friends at Barclay Waterfront University, and Nick seems content with that, rarely branching out and trying to meet new people.

Which Nick you see depends on the context. In classroom discussions, he’s often very eager to speak his mind, especially when it comes to topics he feels people are often mislead or blissfully ignorant about. He has a genuine thirst for knowledge and understanding, and is more than happy to let others explain things to him if he doesn’t know something.

Left to his own devises, Nick tends to withdraw into himself, finding entertainment in his phone via videos on Youtube, browsing reddit, or chatting with people via Discord. Unbothered, he can remain like this for hours on end, more than happy to isolate and ignore the world around him in favor of mindless stimulation.

With friends or those he trusts, a blending of these two extremes is found. Irreverent and nihilistic humor, memespeak, openness, tempered by periods of content silence, browsing the internet to the backdrop of his friends’ conversations, or sharing content with those around him. He’s never quite as loud, or withdrawn and introspective, around his friends, even if everybody is quiet.

Underneath everything, though, is a reservoir of anger that rarely stops bubbling, ready to be set off at the thought of injustice or unfairness. It’s not uncommon for his bombastic rants to be underlaid with a genuine note of anger, or his dry humor to hide genuine disdain, though he does his best to hide this ugly side from others, and even himself.

And to those with a more discerning eye, they can notice the little things Nick hides. The way he flinches, but only for the briefest of moments, at loud noises or unexpected touch. The way he has to center himself before going off on a rant. The slow breaths he takes when somebody explains something that he already knows, thank you very much.

There’s more to him than those two fronts. And what little he lets slip doesn’t paint a good picture.

Bio:

Scars:

Appearance: Nick’s shadow is a young, emaciated boy, dressed in two-sizes-too-large hand-me-downs meant for somebody with a much fuller frame. A plaid shirt clearly from a different era of fashion, frayed blue jeans, and sneakers that barely keep on his feet. Otherwise, Shadow Nick bears a striking resemblance to his human self.

Transformed, however, Nick’s Shadow grows gargantuan in size to represent the overbearing weight of his deeper torment. It gains multiple arms and its clothes become a patchwork of military uniform, chef’s outfit, and high-visibility gear. Its face becomes a grotesque amalgamation of a half-dozen different discordant visages, all distinct and yet melded together in some terrifying, eldritch torment. One of its left hands becomes a spear, another a massive bludgeon, while its right hands grow just a bit too large, its arms a bit too powerful to look natural on even the colossal frame it has developed.

Personality: Shadow Nick takes Human Nick’s snark, isolationist tendencies, and temper to 11. Left well enough alone, it will outright ignore anybody else. Bothered even for a moment, however, and it snaps and attacks, biting and scratching to scare off whoever pissed it off.

Nothing and nobody matter to this Shadow, as it matters to nobody and to nothing in turn. Anybody who seeks to disturb it is clearly just looking to pick a fight, and it will defend itself in kind.

Territory: Shadow Nick’s territory is a simple, and mournfully empty, suburban home. Not a hint of life can be found within, the walls and floor constantly covered in a layer of dust that seems to resettle behind you as you walk. Comfort is impossible here, a ceaseless feeling of being out of place emanating from the “home”. No place between those walls, beneath that roof, is safe from this psychic influence.

Name: Caelum “Cale” Harrington

Age: 18

Arcana: Death

Appearance:

Standing at 179 cm, and weighing about 70 kg, Caelum is slightly above average in height, and slim – in fact, he is still somewhat gangly from his recent growth spurt. He has a pale complexion, which burns in the sun easily. He has thick wavy black hair cut just past his ears; sometimes, he styles it with some gel, and others, he simply leaves it in a messy disarray. His blue-gray eyes often stare off into the mid-distance, half-lidded and sleepy. He has a thin face, almond eyes, aquiline nose, and finely manicured brows, and a fair number would term him good looking. The pearly white teeth, and an easy smile – when he bothers affixing one – help as well. Though, imaginary points for beauty would likely be deduced for the constant press of his lips into a thin line, the lines of tension on his face and shoulders, and the dark circles sometimes visible beneath his eyes.

Cale possesses and wears an assortment of mostly formal wear. Dark slacks, button-down shirts, vests, and jackets in various shades of monochromatic colours, and dress shoes. All of this obviously high-quality and pricey, quite likely tailored to fit. A wristwatch is a constant accessory, and ties are common too. He has also acquired a few fedoras in a feeble effort to fight the sun. As well-polished as he comes across on first glance, however, someone with a keen eye will note that Caelum’s shirts are sometimes rumpled, ties loosened sloppily, sleeves pushed up his forearms carelessly. He uses nothing but a deodorant, and the scent of cigarette smoke lingers around him. He’s even begun switching out the usual jackets and coats with a second-hand leather jacket, for some unfathomable reason. While this might all seem rather mundane to the casual observer, his parents would surely despair if they knew of his sloppy habits.

Personality:

Caelum is a standoffish young man, appearing cool and in control, but not easily approachable. It is true that he is not the most personable, but he is practiced enough in casual, superficial communication that he is capable of starting, holding, and ending conversations with little to no awkwardness. He has often found himself in a leadership, supervisory, or a managerial position, so he is excellent at organizing a group of people, delegating tasks, and ensuring their efficient completion. He has experience with public speaking, and is a decent rhetorician. He is used to being listened to, so when that isn’t the case, he may lash out verbally. He is quite strict, and tends to get testy when his expectations aren’t fulfilled.

Lately, though, he’s been trying to rethink some things. On the one hand, that has made Caelum more moody, irritable, withdrawn, and quiet. On the other, he has been trying to get outside perspective, so he is more open and attentive when he wants to be. Whereas he’d once gladly used his observational skills and ability to exploit others’ weaknesses or bring out their strengths for his own ends, he’s become rather negligent of participating in such social ploys and politics. Whether this is because he doesn’t want to anymore, has lost his touch, or is simply too damn tired to care is unknown. What is certain is that he is still the image of a serious, diligent student; not many would be guess that he is a tad more laid back right now.

Emotionally, he remains somewhat stunted. True affection and genuine empathy are beyond him; he has issues with recognizing, receiving, or offering either. He is excellent at enacting a facsimile of attachment, but Caelum doesn’t know if there is or ever could be anything more to it than that. Of course, it is not unlikely that he is over-critical of himself even in this aspect, yet the lack of proper parental love has left its undeniable marks. Cale doesn’t fool himself into thinking that he is particularly rare in that regard, yet that hasn’t stopped the emergence of some negative feelings; resentment and guilt (towards his parents), envy and longing (in relation to his peers), and a raging turbulence within himself.

Bio:

Caelum was born as the first son to a prominent businessman, Davon, and an ambitious lawyer, Madelaine. As such, he has had great expectations placed upon him since birth, and has had to match his parents’ exacting standards. While his mother simply desired for him to succeed in general, his father clearly had a goal ready-made for him; Caelum was to follow in his footsteps and inherit his company. Though Caelum was reared almost solely by various nannies, caretakers, and tutors, he was certainly shaped by his parents.

They both acted as strict, harsh supervisors, though his mother was slightly more companionable and affectionate – but even she never seemed capable of grasping that he didn’t always learn as swiftly as she might have had; that he did get stuck, and did need practice, repetition, and yes, sometimes even help, to manage something that was self-evident to her. His father, on the other hand, understood his capabilities perfectly, and though he’d deduced they – and Caelum – were fairly normal (as opposed to him possessing any particular talent or creative intuition or genius or…), he didn’t accept that as a reason for failure, and never stopped pushing him further.

“Do your best” was never just a positive encouragement in Caelum’s household, it was a lofty, perhaps unreachable goal, ever-shifting upwards. If there was such a thing as reaching your full potential, Caelum has not been judged as having reached it yet – in fact, he ceased to believe he ever will. Or rather, he has stopped wishing to be granted the reprieve of such an acknowledgment, as there is always more to do, to have, and to be.

At the age of 9 years, Caelum gained a sister, Vesper. His life was not observably impacted by the (admittedly unexpected) arrival of a younger sibling. His parents didn’t act in any particularly different way towards him, and his sister was raised much the same as he was. If he was his father’s pet project, then Vess was more-so his mother’s. Caelum struggled with his parents’ divided attention for a while, and so simply took to ignoring his sister’s existence whenever he could for several years.

It was at the beginning of high school that he started taking notice of Vesper again. Partially because his jealousy and confusion had mostly dissipated, partially because he noticed Vess wasn’t taking well to the transition from home nannying/tutoring to private school. Their parents did all they could think of to ease her in, including instructing Caelum to look over her – which he could do, since they visited the same school complex, which was merely divided into elementary and high school levels/buildings. That, on top of getting used to the emerging high school politics, keeping his status as one of the top students, and his various extracurricular activities, was stressful to say the least.

It was in the latter half of his secondary education that Caelum started feeling the burnout. Well, he didn’t precisely know that is what it was, but it had him veering between apathetically exhausted and nearly paralyzed with anxiety nonetheless. It was through sheer will that he consistently remained within the top three scorers. Well, that, and spite, since his peers found any slip-up of his a matter they could light-heartedly joke about. Given that he became aware of the cracks upon his psyche due to the pressure – even if no one else noticed anything off – he managed to pull through incredibly well, graduating with honors.

However, he desperately wanted a break. Caelum earnestly considered taking a gap year before university, but it was not to be. The most he was able to compromise with his parents was taking a year at a university of his choice, to at least get some credits before he was expected to transfer. It was after facing heavy disappointment that he was “taking it easy” – simply for not choosing to go straight to one of the most prestigious and competitive universities, one of those his parents would approve of – that Caelum headed to Barclay Waterfront University.

Since then, he has settled into the new dorm and university life. He’s freely picked a variety of classes; some business-oriented, others more so scientific, philosophical, humanistic, even artistic. He has not been particularly impressed by any of the starting courses yet, though he’s still excelling in all he does. However, he is not sure whether his chosen path has been correct; he’d wished for some mental recuperation, and while the freedom and variety he’s had has done him well, Caelum doesn’t feel particularly rested. He is plagued by guilt and confusion; by the disapproval of his parents, the unknowns of having deviated from their set path for him for the first time, by the terror of the nebulous future, and the looming loss of purpose.

Scars:

A perfectionist on the brink of a nervous breakdown, Caelum has had to fight for every inch of breathing space ever allowed to him – and even now, after all he had to go through to earn some, he has found the results unsatisfactory. Though he’s physically distanced himself from his parents, he is not yet free of their influence. Overworking has been a problem, and yet, his chosen solution is to keep busy even more. The recent Thanksgiving break has been particularly exhausting, as he had to return home for the duration of it, and has faced what could easily pass for an inquisition (by his father) during it. He feels that he’s beginning to break, but has no idea how to prevent that, or at least alleviate it.

Name: Harriette Moore

Age: 26

Arcana: The Empress

Appearance: Inspiration
Hariette is thin and on the taller side for a woman, standing about 5'7'' (170cm). She is traditionally good looking, with large eyes, symmetrical facial features and long limbs. Her hair is kept long, and it is a deep auburn color. She enjoys dressing feminine, in skirts, blouses and dresses. She wears make-up and accessories and in generally presents herself in a clean and professional manner. Lately she's gone heavier on the make-up to cover the dark circle under her eyes.

Personality: Once, Harriette was a spunky girl. She was friendly and open, but also headstrong. She's still headstrong, trying her hardest not to snap under the current pressure she finds herself under and hold her head up high, but currently the spark of her personality has nearly gone out. Over the years she's grown reserved and secretive. She still isn't the quiet girl her parents tried to make her into, as she will let her thoughts be known, but there is a weariness to her words as if she spends a lot of time choosing them carefully. She doesn't want anything to be misconstrued.

Harriette can easily come off as cold. She isn't rude, she just tends to keep her distance. This is a facade to protect herself. Deep in her core, she wants to be close to people. To make friends, have someone she can confide in. She's been working toward a teaching degree, so she enjoys helping others and to her there is no greater happiness than the expression on someone's face when she helps them, or a student's words of gratitude when they grasp what she teaches. Lately, because of her aloof demeanor and certain rumors going around campus, these moments of happiness are few and far between.

Bio: When Harriette first moved out of her overbearing parent's home before she'd even turned 18, she indulged in her new found freedom. They'd tried to raise her to be quiet and meek because they shared the same "seen and not heard" mentality that the rest of their little church town did, but Harriette had fought them with uncooperative brattiness. She had been the type of child whose scowl alone could spoil her Sunday best. So when she'd left that small town behind and moved to the city, intending to put herself through school, she thought it would be a dream come true. Over the next few years it spiraled into a nightmare. It started with little things: the struggle of trying to make ends meet in the city on her own, cat-calling on the street while she walked to work. Unruly patrons, the wrong bar at the wrong time and a drink left unattended. It was hard to meet people or make friends when the world was slowly making you mistrustful, and even harder to focus on work with financial worries hanging in the back of your mind and the gazes of strangers stressing you out.

While worrying about how to afford classes, a coworker recommended Harriette to look into gig work. People were always hiring pretty girls to stand around and promote their product, or stand in the background of a commercial. Taking that advice led to the current events surrounding Harriet, and to the meeting of a couple of people that steered the course of her life from there on:

Jaden Greenman, an "agent" that Harriette had worked with a couple of times while seeking some short term work. When one night he gave her a call and suggested doing video work with a large, under the table payment she went to meet with him to discuss details. To say she was surprised when she arrived and figured out it was a skin flick was an understatement, but he told her there so no harm if she didn't want to do it. Harriette thought it over, and in the end she agreed. The lump sum would fast track her savings so that she'd be able to start school the next semester. It was only the one short film, and though it was awkward at first it was done fairly professionally.

Brian Moore, a man she'd met during her freshman college year and quickly fell for. They rushed their relationship for sure, and were married within a year of dating. He had a charm to him that was hard to resist, and with their combined income the couple moved into a little apartment not far from campus. They seemed to be a good match and even planned to start a family.

Leanna Rowen, a professor at Barclay Waterfront University where Harriette was attending. She took a shine to Harriette, and because Harriette showed interest in someday becoming a teacher herself Leanna helped her to get a job as a teacher's assistant after she'd achieved her associate's degree.

That was three years ago when things were starting to look up. Now, taking only part time classes while on the cusp of a bachelor's degree, Harriette feels she might not make it. Apparently a student had found that short film late last year and, while disrupting the lecture, Professor Rowen had caught wind of it. She'd convinced the student to keep quiet, but rumors were bound to spread regardless. Most were vague, and some were outlandish lies, but it put a strain on Hariette's relationship with fellow staff and students regardless. Most shocking of all was Leanna's change in attitude. The older woman became cruel, blackmailing Hariette into acting as all but her personal secretary. She shoved her own responsibilities onto Hariette, had her complete errands even outside of work, and bullied Hariette into anything she felt like, such as giving the other woman her own jewelry if she'd seen Hariette wearing it and taken a shine to it. After all, Leanna was responsible for getting Hariette the job in the first place, and if Leanna brought the video to the Dean personally it would mean she would lose it.

Worse was the state of her marriage. After the honeymoon phase, things settled and though they had their disagreements things were generally good. Hariette had managed to conceive and it brought a brief happiness to them, but the stress of her work situation worried the both of them. Though Brian didn't know what was going on, he noticed the mental toll it was taking on Hariette and grew increasingly frustrated with his wife's refusal to open up with what was wrong. Distance was already growing between them when Jaden called to see if she had any interest in a bit role for a local ad. Completely innocent, nothing risque, but when her husband asked about it and Harriette brushed him off, the man did some digging and didn't like what he found. Their relationship soured even more after Brian's own discovery of the video, as he took it as evidence of imagined infidelity. He insinuated that the baby probably wasn't even his. After one night of fighting that was beginning to become the norm with them, Hariette miscarried. It was the last straw and the once bright relationship now dimmed. They stayed together, because for Hariette she simply had no one else. She'd left her family long behind, and what friends she'd managed to make all seemed to look at her a little differently once they caught wind of the rumors. Her partner was slowly chipping away her self-esteem, making it harder to leave when she was being convinced that no one else would accept her if he, her husband, couldn't. She was afraid if she left she would be alone and homeless. For Brian himself, it might have been appearances' sake, or maybe inside he enjoyed the power he held over his wife now, but either way they remained married.

This is where Hariette finds herself now. Stuck in limbo, hanging at the end of a rope being held by two people more than willing to drop it. At work there is a potentially disastrous cloud hanging over her, while at home the ghost of what could have been haunts every room and seeds loathing. All over a stupid video that Hariette can't even bring herself to regret making.

Scars: Hariette is struggling with depression, anxiety, mistrust, and the very real threat that not only her career, but her home and livelihood could come crashing down at any moment. She has been dealing with self-image issues, stemming not just from her bitter husband's comments but from the moment she moved to the city and encountered the inherent sexualization of "pretty women" like her. Most of her scars are mental, heavy stress pressing on her brain and body, but there is a large scar on her stomach that was given to her the night she miscarried.

Name: Mila Petra Ford

Age: 20

Arcana: Justice

Appearance: Mila has smooth dirty blonde hair, deep blues eyes, and nearly flawless skin are key features of Mila's. Standing at an unimposing 5'1" Mila is often overlooked when standing with her taller siblings. She probably just didn't get the height gene from her father. One thing she did get from him is the ability to frighten someone with a single glare. Her face is an open book. She doesn't hesitate to show her ire of someone, but contrasting that is her heartwarming smile.

Typical wear for her is comfortable to work in clothing. Jeans, tennis shoes, and darker colored sweaters are what she wears in the winter months. She has a few scarves and gloves with the only really nice piece of clothing she has is a jacket bought for her last Christmas.


Personality:
Looking at Mila most would expect a quiet girl that doesn't put up much of a fuss. She certainly doesn't look very intimidating. However, once she starts speaking she has the confidence of a lion. While not much of an aggressor, She will stubbornly stand her ground if it's for another's sake. When it comes to herself though, she believes she has so much more room to grow. She is also a wee bit naïve. She wants to believe that everyone has some good inside of them. Everyone who does wrong just needs to be shown they are wrong and then guided towards being better. Just like she was.

In terms of relationships, she doesn't have much luck. She has trouble either getting close or even keeping them. Largely because she is so focused on self-improvement and whatever she is working on. The person she is closest to is her older brother but there are a few friends in her life that try helping her relax. It doesn't always work as when she isn't doing anything she feels like she's wasting time. She will soon find some excuse to get away and back to work.

Bio: As she is her parents second child, The attention of Mila’s father was largely focused elsewhere. Due to this, Mila had a lot of freedom to do as she pleased. Because of this she somewhat kind of maybe just a little bit became a spoiled little brat. Yeah. Who knew that growing up privileged with no one caring much of what you did besides your mother would cause one to be a little bratty. Her father didn't bother too much with her as she wasn't causing issues for him. Her older brother, Leon, couldn't do anything or risk their father getting upset with both of them for distractions. Mila's poor mother just couldn't get the girl to listen.

A silver spoon in mouth since birth and no consequences for her actions were a bad combination. Her immaturity caught up with her when on a horse-riding trip with her brother and close friend Bartram. A sudden storm left her stranded in the woods, lost, alone, and terrified, making her realize for the first time just how much she'd taken for granted. After that, she finally became open to the instruction of her mother.

Mila beginning to learn to be a better person was not the only outcome from that event. It was also the catalyst to the eventual separation of Mila's parents. Times were rough as a result. The silver spoon was soon gone but the small family at least had gotten a bad egg out of their midst. Years later, Mila and her siblings are more or less on their own. Their father is out of their lives. Their mother has fallen ill within the past year due to stress and overworking. Leon is the sole provider but not making much money as a cop in the area. Mila decided to take a break from school for a year and work as an administrative assistant. She helped Leon the best she could while squirrelling enough away to pay for at least some of the tuition.

But things would soon take a turn for the worse. While working one night she overheard a conversation that she definitely wasn't supposed to hear. The next morning she approached her boss thinking he'd be able to handle it. She went back to her job after he affirmed her that he'd deal with it. When nothing happened she started looking into it herself. A few weeks later and Mila is arrested for a crime she swears she didn’t commit.

But no one other than her family would listen. For the next year and a half, Mila was behind bars. Labeled a felon she felt as if her desires were now unattainable. Many sleepless nights were spent stewing in anger for whoever had put her in this situation. During her time, she realized that she must have been set up because she got close to learning something. They probably did it as a warning, but it just made her angry. Mila decided she had to do something about it. For the time being she was stuck in prison. She would use that time to come up with a plan.

Eventually, with a lot of good behavior, Mila was let out on parole. There were a lot of rules she had to follow, but she was smart. Mila wouldn't rush things. She'd start by putting up a good front, acting normal by pursuing a degree. Mila would take her time. She had to be careful as her future was riding on a thin line. She couldn't let them get away with their crime.

Scars: Mila has never had much of a relationship with her father, but who cares about him? Her mother has fallen ill and there’s nothing Mila can do to help. She has trouble connecting to her younger siblings. Most importantly though, she’s been changed by her unjust circumstances. There is not to much to think about in prison. Other than surviving she dwelled on what happened in an unhealthy manner. It was likely meant to be a warning, but all it did was start a fire in her to pay them back.

• Name: Vincent Cawler

• Age: 30

• Arcana: The Tower

• Appearance: Despite it all, Vincent still manages to be an imposing figure. At exactly 6-and-a-half feet tall, Vincent's kept himself in decent shape. Sinewy muscles trail over his body like that of a swimmer's, enough to be noticed but not look like a mountain of a man. Less can be praised about the other parts of Vincent; his face is narrow, eyes close together, thick eyebrows, and the pale complexion of someone who doesn't leave the house much.

As for the hair, it's a mangy dark mane, only barely kept in place as a short bun sitting at the nape of his neck. Poorly shaved stubble graces his chin, exemplifying Vincent's scraggliness and lack of care for himself. To wrap it all together, the man tends to dress very plainly - a simple flat-colored suit when he's on the job (unbuttoned and without a tie), and when he's not, turtleneck sweaters, loose graphic tees... really whatever he ends up finding in his dresser drawers.

But the most noteworthy part of Vincent would have to be all of his scars. From a nose that's been broken enough times to look folded over to knuckles calloused from repeated use and a jagged gash still perfectly visible across his neck, Vincent looks as if the world itself took a crowbar to him. And that's only what can be seen at a glance. Beneath his crappy clothes there's any number of old wounds crisscrossing his body, like a map etched into his skin.

• Personality: There are two sides to Vincent Cawler - what he is, and what he used to be.

Let's start beneath the surface; the core of Vincent Cawler remains the same as it was a decade ago. A cocky man, arrogant of his own abilities which in turn makes him aggressive to anyone that doubts him. Prone to bursts of anger and hostility, driven by an innate desire to deal with issues using his own two hands. Vincent can be overbearing, selfish, hot-tempered... but he's loyal. If you manage to get in his good graces, you'll find him to be a great friend, someone who would always be in your corner. Just, in his own ways.

That's all a far cry to the Vincent of today, though. The once-boisterous teen has become a shadow of himself. His arrogance has turned into subservience. He rarely does anything of his own volition anymore, only moving when told to move, acting how he's told to act. Any time he's not following orders he only exists, taking care of the bare essentials. Vincent doesn't even speak most of the time, now. He's too worn down to say anything, not even when he's alone. The only part of Vincent that has an ounce of uniqueness is how he conducts himself, his motions quick and efficient and exceptionally brutal - the peek behind the curtain at the anger inside.

His old self, his real self is still with him, however much he seems like someone else's puppet. It's simply been buried deep, deep down, and Vincent has no fight to go digging for it again.

• Bio: All throughout Vincent's childhood, he was belittled, told off by his supremely strict parents for every little thing he did. Instead of caving into the pressure by becoming obedient, however, his upbringing made him grow self-assured, maybe a bit too much so. By 8th grade, Vincent was a proper rebel, not caring what his parents or teachers said of him or told him to do, putting himself on a pedestal of his own making. Vincent was also beginning to gain his aggressive reputation at the same time, when he shoved a fellow classmate down the stairs in an effort to win an argument. He won, of course.

Throughout high school, Vincent became quite the thug, attracting a posse of jaded, antisocial bullies who saw his give-no-shit attitude as an aspiration. One of them was Benji Roseman, a teen with much shadier actions, who Vincent found himself attached to. The two became fast friends, a solid bond forming between them over the course of their school years, sticking by one another no matter what happened.

And then came graduation day.

Vincent, 19 at the time due to being held back a year, was set to move on with his life, free from the rules that school and his parents forced upon him, with a plan to travel the country together with Benji. But Benji was nowhere to be seen. Eventually, spending most of the day away from school hunting him down, Vincent found Benji. Dead. One of his shady dealings ended with him slaughtered, and Vincent stumbled upon the culprits about the dump his body. Faced with such a tragic loss, and about to meet the same fate, Vincent lost it; he went postal, beating the criminal group into little more than bloody pulps, managing to avoid death through sheer rage.

The victory was short-lived, as backup arrived for the group just in time to subdue Vincent. The cops were arriving on the scene, forcing the rest to take Vincent with them as they fled. As it turned out, the group weren't simple gang members. The ones that killed Benji, the ones Vincent so viciously fought, worked under none other than Orland Oliva, one of Barclay's most powerful crime lords. Vincent was brought before the man himself, and rather than a swift punishment, Orland had much bigger ideas in mind for the boy. He'd singlehandedly taken on several of Orland's goons, maybe even managed to kill a couple too. Who would pass up such a promising individual for this line of work?

Ever since, Vincent had been kept firmly under Orland's heel. With threat of making his rampage known to the police and the obvious outcome of going against the man, Vincent was forced to stay within Barclay, doing Orland's bidding. It started out simple enough - valet Orland around for his dealings, deliver a package to a buyer, small time stuff - but as time went on, Vincent was made to do worse and worse. Within a year, Orland had his grip fully over Vincent, who in turn became desolate due to his new life.

Ten years had passed since that day. Now, Vincent is Orland's top enforcer, protecting the man on a daily basis and sent on dangerous jobs, both for himself and his targets. Vincent had no outs, he was under too much scrutiny and in too deep to escape. He's grown listless, doing only what he thinks he's good for: following Orland's command.

• Scars: Kept on a short leash by Orland Oliva, Vincent is stuck, both in life and within himself. There's no hope for him if he stays as Orland's personal attack dog, and certainly his time was running short. One day a close call will be too close to miss. Vincent understands this on a fundamental level, unable to do anything to counter what appears to be his fate.