IC 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █ 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █▬ Recollections So Far 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █ 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █▬ Synopsis 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █ 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █▬ Chapter One: 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █ 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █▬ 1.1 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █ 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █▬ 1.2 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █ | OOC 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █ 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █▬ Overview 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █ 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █▬ Paranormal.Beings 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █ 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █▬ Quintin, Louisiana 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █ 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █▬ Misc | CHARACTER.TAB 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █ 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █▬ Character List/Sheet 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █ 𝟷𝟿𝟼𝟿 █▬ NPC List |
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[OOC] Recollections: Who Is Eleanor Black [CANCELLED]
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Why did you come here...?
Welcome to Recollections: Who Is Eleanor Black?, another RP set in the supernatural horror/urban fantasy universe known as the Recollections universe. Set in a strange and unique universe where magic reflects the core of its humanity and its emotions, beliefs, and thoughts. ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅In Who Is Eleanor Black? the story revolves around a mysterious woman that has had a profound effect on so many people's lives. She saved some lives, changed others - she is a friend, a sister, a mother, a lover, and many, many other things. However, the only issue is that she doesn't exist. There's not a trace of her in any census or log, and if you ask someone about her they would have nary an idea of who she is. What she did gets attributed to other people, and just leaves the people that apparently know her feeling crazy!
This is a phenomenon as there are other people who know about Eleanor Black - all of them meeting over the internet - with each of them having a wildly different version of her in their heads. They figured that they can't all be crazy and settle to get to the bottom of this. One trait that each version of Eleanor Black has is that she grew up in (or some relation) a small swampy town known as Quintin, Louisiana raised by a rich family known as the Black Family. Organized by a woman named Jennifer Caspin, they all agree to meet in Quintin and get to the bottom of this mystery.However, Quintin Lousiana is not a place that's welcoming to strangers, especially not the kind that snoops around. More importantly, the Black family and Quintin themselves harbor a terrifying secret that they will fight tooth and nail to protect. They will dive into the world of the supernatural as they learn that Eleanor is more than just a woman. And possibly something other than human. The story is inspired by Life is Strange, Dead by Daylight, Lakeview Cabin/Valley, Bakemonogatari, and Neon Genesis Evangelion. A fusion of genres, this RP will have themes of Urban-fantasy and horror (I call it Off-Urban fantasy) with a southern gothic aesthetic. One of the most important things for me would be having the right tone and vibe, which I think will be darker and spooky. The thematic will be the nature of identity and the effects one person can have on a person's life and if they would be the same if the person was different or absent. Above all else its thematic will be Connections, Emotions, and Memories.RULES & NOTES_______________________________________________
1. First and foremost I reserve the right to reject anyone from the RP and boot them out at any time. I hate to do this and I will try to avoid it but sometimes some people are too disruptive to the RP or aren't a good fit and have to be removed.
2. Please try to be respectful towards all other players.
3. The Recollections Universe is a dark off-urban fantasy set in the real world, so it'll be relatively realistic. This means I want all characters to make sense, have a realistic (or real) faceclaim, etc. You can pretty much go crazy with any type of character of mostly any sexuality, gender, race, religion, etc, etc. Just stray away from sociopaths/psychopaths.
4. The tone of the RP will be fairly dark and brooding... not like super gritty or edgy (only a little). It'll have plenty of dark moments and probably some pretty graphic moments. However, it'll be offset by the absurdist humor inherent to the setting.
5. Please no "wip" sheets on the OOC. Post a complete sheet or don't post anything at all. If you need something looked over, feel free to private message me. Speaking of which, the character tab is for accepted characters only.
6. Keep in mind that your character can totally die. If they make the wrong move it can result in their death and I will not jeopardize the story to save them.
7. You're allowed to have as many characters as you can handle... just don't go too crazy. I'd like to keep it to about two characters max per person, but if you got a really good idea I'll allow more.
8. Keep in mind that this RP isn't quite a regular superpower RP (even though you'll ignore this), it's an off-urban fantasy with horror themes. It's honestly a weird blend of like thirty different genres but that's beside the point. I want the abilities in this setting to be more grounded in magic, the fantastical, and the thematic over everything. I like abilities that reflect the user in some way, but I'd appreciate seeing how you interpret it. I would prefer if you stray away from scientific abilities like gravity/magnetism manipulation, but I will allow it if you insist.
9. Your character's relation to Eleanor Black can be anything, as in you are encouraged to go crazy. The point is for each character to have their own version of Eleanor Black made up in their head.10. I only describe the essential lore for making a character. That is because I like doing stuff from top-to-bottom, meaning I like to explore the supernatural world in character. If you want any details about the lore for making a character please let me know.
11. Nobody will start with an abstraction of any kind and I will decide on an abstraction for their character. I will PM it to you at a certain point. I reserve the right to change the abstraction if they have not developed it yet. To balance it out, ya’ll can decide MY character’s abstraction.
12. This RP will strictly be "first come, first serve." Meaning I will not reserve any /character/roles/etc, and they will go to whoever finishes their character sheet first. If there's a conflict over it, I will decide the outcome.
13. All I ask for is one post a week. If it's been a week since your last post, your character will be placed into the inactive section until they are written off (mostly by death). Please be aware that once your character is inactive they can be killed off.
14. The RP runs off of Ambiguous Time Period. Basically meaning the rp will have aspects from different time periods so it'd be hard to place a specific time period.
15. I would like it if everyone is an outsider to Quintin. A few twists wouldn’t work if a lot of people were from Quintin. Again, if you have a cool idea I will allow it.
16. There are rules that are so beaten into your head that it should be obvious.
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Don't you know Eleanor Black is beyond saving?
 "The boundaries of what you know have been altered." ____________________________________ | "Open your mind, heart, body, and soul to the universe..." ____________________________________ Out there exists a threshold, an invisible line showing what's possible and impossible. Crossing that threshold is easy for certain people with a specific trait or predisposition, but sometimes, it's not something they do on their own. Sometimes, they get pushed across it, and when they get to the other side, they discover that nothing short of Magic is real. The magic in this world is fueled by human emotion, beliefs, and personality, and individuals can gain magical abilities reflecting themselves. Many different types of these beings exist, but they are under one collective term: The Paranormal. The world of the Paranormal is the gateway to infinite possibilities, stories, and adventures, as it follows these people as they navigate this strange world. The umbrella term for these abilities is known as Paranormal-Abilities; the most basic of these abilities is a theoretical opening of the "third eye." The Paranormal are the only ones that can perceive magical abilities in action, as those without them can only see the effects. The story's namesake ability is known as a Recollection, a flashback where the person experiencing it can see what happened during it as if they were there. All Paranormal-Beings are unconsciously drawn to each other and Paranormal situations, whether they like it or not. Or, the Paranormal will come to them, and it’s suspected that people with the potential to become Paranormal will be drawn to it as well. With Recollections, a person can experience the memories and adventures of other people and gain information on events they weren't present at. It's hard to tell what triggers a Recollection, as some people may experience it in their sleep or when interacting with a certain person, place, or thing that is relevant to them or their goals. Those with a sufficient understanding of magic can show other people a Recollection. |
However, each Paranormal being has a personal ability known as an Abstraction. An abstraction is an ability that is unique to them and is determined by the type of Paranormal being they are. No two abstractions are the same; one person can cast away their abstraction for another. Abstractions are linked to a person's soul and are impossible to nullify, or no abstraction exists that negates or removes another except for one specific case. Paranormal beings can only have one abstraction at a time, even if they appear to have several different abstractions - it simply sub-abilities under one larger abstraction. The Paranormal is innately protected from each other by an invisible barrier known as an Emotional-Field, which acts as a natural limiter preventing Paranormal beings from using their abstractions directly on each other. Every Paranormal-Being, except for some rare cases, possesses an Emotional-Field. For example, a pryomancer cannot boil someone’s blood, a telekinetic cannot tear someone’s heart out, and a mind controller cannot work on a Paranormal. Abstractions such as Telepathy and Healing are not typically restricted. An Emotional-Field can have its properties altered by certain abstractions, for example, Lessening magical damage, removing someone’s Emotional-Field, etc. Emotional-Fields inhibit all offensive (and certain Abstractions like mind control and stopping time) Abstractions; however, certain offensive abstractions can bypass it completely (these abstractions are rare, however). Individuals who do not have an Abstraction or Emotional-Field are known as Blind and cannot comprehend or interact with magic in any way. However, those who have been exposed to magic in the past will gain the ability to perceive magic known as One-Eye-Open. These individuals lack an Emotional-Field or an Abstraction and are as susceptible to magic as the Blind.
ADEPTS | |
|---|---|
 _______________________________________________ "Transcend the limitations you have placed on your mind and soul." | Eons ago, an ancient race of God-like beings known as Ancients visited humanity and bestowed thousands of them access to their magic known as Lux - which is a different type of magic dependant on its color. This has created a spiritual connection to the Lux and the previous generations that wielded it. To access this Lux, a user must first undergo a Kindling-Event when they experience a powerful emotion. During a Kindling Event, they can talk to their ancestors much like a Recollection, and it's possible to experience several Kindling Events. There is such a thing known as a Severance in which an Adept may be cut off from their Lux if they aren't behaving in a way that their ancestors deem worthy (It's also possible for an Adept to sever themselves during a Kindling Event). Afterward, they will be One-Eye-Open and unable to reconnect to their Lux. Adepts are more in line with traditional mages and wizards than the other Paranormal types with a flat ability, and Adepts have to learn Spells. These spells can theoretically be anything within their Lux. However, each Adept has an Affinity, which means they can learn spells easier if they reflect something about them. However, it's challenging (but not impossible) to develop spells outside of one's affinity and next-to-impossible to develop spells that are opposite of their affinity. Spells are created through trial and error and experimentation, but each Adept has a unique way of developing their spells. However, Adepts can also learn spells from external sources such as spell books and other Paranormal beings. An Adept can gain a catalog of hundreds of spells in their lifetime. However, it'll take years of practice, and Adepts can also gain "inspiration" for new spells from the people close to them. Adepts access their magic through an object known as a Channeler, an object that the user has an emotional attachment to - it's possible to use spells without one, but channeling the Lux through one's body will cause severe burns and lead to unstable Spells. The act of using spells is called Casting, and every Adept has its own method of casting (Visualizing and concentrating, chanting, rituals, etc.). An Adept can have multiple Lux; however, the more Lux they have access to, the weaker their overall spells will be. An Adept with multiple Lux can devise spells within one Lux or make spells combining several Lux. It’s common for an Adept to have one Lux, uncommon for two, and rare for three or more. Red (Rage): Elemental Lux, the most common type of Lux. The Ancient that embodies this Lux is The Bull—examples: Manipulation of fire, ice, electricity, earth, plant, and similar abilities. Green (Joy): Biological Lux, the third most common type of Lux. The Ancient that embodies this Lux is The Deer. Examples: Healing, shape-shifting, wing generation, etc, Yellow (Terror): Stealth & Defensive Lux. The Ancient that embodies this Lux is The Spider. Examples: Invisibility, barrier generation/forcefields, dumbing sound down, etc. Pink (Love): Mental & Emotional Lux. The Ancient that embodies this Lux is The Dove—examples: Emotion manipulation, mind control, telepathy, illusion creation, etc. Gold (Pride): Summoning & Minion Creation Lux, the third rarest type of Lux. The Ancient that embodies this Lux is The Lion—examples: Creating minions of choice, summoning a defeated monster, etc. Purple (Anticipation): Movement & Time Lux, the second most common type of Lux. The Ancient that embodies this Lux is The Mustang. Examples: Teleportation, time travel, Portal Creation, telekinesis, slowing down time, etc Orange (Courage): Infusion & Abstraction-Strengthening Lux, the second rarest form of Lux. The Ancient that embodies this Lux is the Tiger. Examples: Creating a magic sword, boosting Paranormal abilities, making an object stronger, etc. Blue (Sadness): Curse Lux, the rarest form of Lux. The ability to cast curses which requires a stipulation to be broken. The Ancient that embodies this Lux is the Swan. Examples: Cursing someone to turn into a monster, creating a deadly illness, cursing someone to be haunted by the dead, etc. White (Nostalgia): Information Lux. The Ancient that embodies this Lux is the Owl. Examples include Observing locations remotely, seeing into the past/future, reading auras, gaining information about the environment, etc. Black (Apathy): Necromancy Lux. The Ancient that embodies this Lux is the Hound—examples: Creating zombie minions, manipulating apparitions, etc. Adepts are probably my second favorite out of the types, so I'm biased. They're probably the most complex, given how Lux n' shit works. Blue Lux are heavily restricted and require permission from me to make one a player character - otherwise, they will be an NPC-only Lux. I should note that newer adepts (aka what should be most of the cast) should only have access to three or four spells at a time - and I demand a list of spells they can cast in their abstraction section. Keep in mind the more types of Lux they have access to, the weaker their abilities should be. Also, please run any new spells by me first. |
APPARITIONS | |
 ________________________________________________________________ "They emerge from a world that shouldn't exist." | Ghosts, Spirits, Angels, Demons, Echoes, whatever you call them, above all else. Apparitions are unique as they are the most fantastical and vague of the Paranormal. Opposed to being made of flesh and blood, they are made of pure magic, and instead of being born, they are spawned into existence. There are three ways an Apparition can be created: from either a powerful enough belief (or emotion), made by another Paranormal (these abstractions are few and in between, incredibly rare), or when a person with a strong enough emotion dies a piece of their leftover consciousness and memories become an Apparition. In the case of the latter, they are not the soul or spirit of the individual and will only harbor a few of their memories and fragments of their former personality. A new Apparition is nothing but a blank slate, and many Apparitions were dead Paranormal-beings that cast away their humanity. These Apparitions are fueled and powered by these emotions and beliefs - and the stronger those are, the more powerful they become. An Apparition can, alternatively, fade from existence if said emotion or thought wanes. Apparitions are, otherwise, effectively immortal and can exist for centuries - if destroyed, they will regenerate in time (stronger Apparitions can regenerate as fast as a couple of hours). Apparitions, by default, are invisible to the Blind (they can choose to make themselves visible), but the Paranormal and One-Eye-Open can perceive them. While the Paranormal can interact with Apparitions, only the One-Eye-Open can see them. However, the primary method for defeating an Apparition is known as Sealing, and they can be imprisoned in an object where they will be trapped for all time unless freed. Apparitions can prevent themselves from being sealed or fading from existence by binding themselves to a human in some way, shape, or form (in this state, their Abstractions are entirely static). Apparitions, by default, are invisible to the Blind but can reveal themselves at will. Apparitions are responsible for most curses and can be manipulated by Black Lux. It's simple to seal an Apparition. A person has to draw symbols on the ground or environment that they truly believe will seal the Apparition. Then, they must place an object of any size inside the sigils; alternatively, they can draw the symbols around. Then they must battle the Apparition and weaken it enough to activate the Seal and trap the Apparition inside the object. Larger and other more powerful apparitions require bigger sigils to be drawn or for them to be far weaker, but all an Apparition has to do is be in the vicinity to be sealed. The Apparition can be released if the Seal is destroyed, and the Blind can use their abstraction if they are in contact with the object. Sealing does not work on the Abscised, Agents or Adjoined. Apparitions will be heavily restricted for several reasons; you can only make an Apparition if you get my permission. Apparitions apart of an Aberration are fully allowed. |
ABERRATIONS | |
 _________________________________________________"Freak, monsters, predators, prey, Aberrations. Do not take them lightly." ......................................................................... | Aberrations are what are considered to be "outside the lines," something not a part of the grand design of the universe. Aberrations are people who have had contact with the Paranormal and gained either a blessing or a curse from their abilities. Almost all Abberattions are created from the Blind interacting with Apparitions, but they can also be created by Adepts or by interacting with magical artifacts. Unlike Adepts, Animals can become Aberrations due to their strange nature. Aberrations are considered Paranormal Beings so that they can use all of the baseline abilities, but only the Blind/One-Eye-Open can become an Aberration. Due to the odd nature of the Aberrations, they are separated into five subclasses: Adjoined: Are Paranormal-Beings who have an Apparition attached to their soul and can utilize their abilities. Either the Apparition uses their abstraction freely, the Adjoined can transform into the Apparition, or the Adjoined uses the Apparition's Abstraction by proxy. Sometimes, these can intersect, and there can be an Adjoined that can do all three. Afflicted: A person who gained an abstraction through being cursed. Agent: A person who has contact with a sealed Apparition or a magical artifact and can use their abstraction by proxy. Abscised: An Abscised is an Apparition that has taken control over somebody's body (Either possession style, removing a person's soul first, taking over a deceased human's body, etc) and can use their abstraction through them. The Abscised are varying degrees of undead. Abominable: Unique as the Abominable are not humans or Apparition, but instead the Abominable are creatures that have been created by magic. They have been created by a Paranormal being at some point or some were born naturally from another Abominable. My favorite type of Paranormal beings. They'll require a bit more background work as you'll have to come up with how they'll become an Aberrant (mainly running into an Apparition, etc). With Aberrants, you aren't limited by belief or personality or whatever and can come up with anything - however, you have to come up with Apparitions. |
 "Reality is a wild, unpredictable, beast. Every choice you make leads to a different reality." ................................................................................. | Within the Recollections universe exists a multiverse dubbed the All-Verse. The All-Verse is a vast and interconnected web of parallel dimensions, alternate realities, and different planes of existence that exist alongside our primary reality. The variety of these dimensions can range from entirely different to almost the same, except for the most minor differences. One significant aspect is that everyone in these dimensions has a Counterpart, which is essentially a different version of them - except there are constants and variables (Constants being traits that they all share and variables are traits that can change). These counterparts are spiritually connected. This spiritual connection differs for each person; some counterparts can read each other’s aura/mind, gain more powerful abstractions in each other’s presence, switch bodies at will, etc. These universes were never designed to interact, but magic can allow travel between each universe. The All-Verse represents reality itself. However, there is a state of unreality. The space outside the All-Verse and reality is known as The Void. The Void is the space between universes, and their universal laws, such as time and decay, do not exist there, and it is home to unimaginable horrors. Even with magic, entering the Void (and vice-versa) is challenging because a safety net exists, a barrier that prevents objects from falling out of reality. However, this safety net also catches the remains of destroyed universes and becomes something just as horrifying as the Void: The Pit. The Pit is a savage land consisting of the fragments of reality it caught, inhabited by any other being that fell out of existence. It is a horrible land inhabited by some of the most horrific creatures known to man that is nigh-impossible to escape from. Very few have escaped the Pit, and those that have left their sanity behind. The universe in which this story takes place is known as Shimmer. |
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I'm sorry, but...
_______________________________________________ You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. You cannot save Eleanor Black. | A small town in southwestern Lousiana a mere thirty-minute drive from Lafayette and not that far off from the Texas border. If you found the place then congratulations; you either got lost going to cooler places or have family that exist in Quintin. It is very difficult to find the origins of the town, but it's known that sometime after the Louisana purchase the town of Quintin acted as a slave town. After the civil war was won in favor of the Union and slavery was abolished, the town's economy shifted towards mining the coal deposits that were located around the parish. To this day, it is still the primary source of the town's economy. The many families that reside in Quintin, Lousiana are families that have been there for generations - either descended from the freedmen, the plantation owners, or the rare people that moved into the town in hopes of building a quiet life. Many of the buildings have been there since the town was built and some of which are in desperate need of renovation. The layout of Quintin is a bit odd; it's a small town that is flanked by swamps in all directions. A little nickname for Quintin is Swamptown. To get to and out of Quintin, you need to pass through the roads that have been paved through the swamps. The swamplands are extensive and full of all types of dangers... both mundane and supernatural. The swamps are also full of all sorts of mysteries that are just waiting to be solved. Out in the swamps are primary where most of the mines were located and many of them have been abandoned after exhausting their resources. |
One of the oldest and most powerful families is known as the Black Family. They descended from the earliest slave owners and when it seemed like the Confederate was going to lose the Civil War quickly jumped on the new bandwagon of mining and quickly grasped onto the growing mining industry. In a few years, they owned all the mines and made themselves not only filthy-stinking rich but made themselves an important part of Quintin's politics. You can't go two feet without someone mentioning them, or someone that's in their pockets. The Black family is massive with the current head of the family being the matriarch Mary-Louise Black, and it consists of her children with Marcus Luther-Kane Black, her siblings, and their children. Her brother, Levi Black, left town decades ago and Mary-Louise's father, Albert Black, died in a mysterious incident.. | _______________________________________________ |
However, the town of Quintin is cursed... it is a hotspot of Paranormal activity - go out in the swamps and you'll find all sorts of things. Some locals will tell you the spirits of the vengeful slaves that died here still infest the place. While other locals will tell you that a vengeful slave cursed Quintin... either way, they'll tell you not to go out in the swamp at night and definitely not to drink the swamp water. As of late more strange occurrences have happened as portals have appeared to strange places, more Apparitions and Aberrants are being created, and something wandering around the town at night in a cloak. The locals know better than to mouth off, and more importantly not to trust strangers, so be careful who you go asking questions.
Especially about a certain somebody whose name starts with E.
Especially about a certain somebody whose name starts with E.
If I was here, touching your face... what would you do? How would you feel?
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...it's too late for you.
Note: This is not a guide or anything like that. You're free to come up with symbolism and your own interpretations of what's below and I've probably gone against it a few times myself. This is just how I interpret mechanics n' shit about abstractions.
Elemental Abstractions: _______________________________________________In general: Connection to the world, creativity, focus on the outside, being outrospective, desire to build/shape, change. Fire: Passion, rage, raw and destructive emotion. Water: Calmness/Peace, easily influenced, having multiple states. Ice: Sadness, death, fridigity. Earth/Metal/Crystals: Confidence, pride, obstinacy/stubbornness. Sand: Time, patience, abrasiveness, flexibility. Air: Mobility/Flexibility, spirituality, logic, destructiveness. Soil/Dirt/Dust: Progress/productivity, old patterns, misery. Lightning/Electricity/Storm: Fear/worries, energetic, wild. Flowers/Plants: Love/intimacy, patience, compassion, new beginnings, desire to see things grow. Ash: Loss, death, penance. Glass: Fragility, sight. Darkness: Being an edgelord, nothing/empitness, loss. Light: Happiness, hope, desiring notice/sharing information. Paper: Worthlessness, having something that needs to be done, Ink/Paint: Creativity, intellect. Wood: Wisdom, having built up something. Ocean: Chaos, unchanging, calmness/peace. Sound: Creativity, happiness/love, connection, desired to be understood/listened to. Stars/Cosmic: Dreams, change, ambition. Plastic: Moldable, fakeness, insincerity. Fabric/Clothes: Individuality, value, taking opinions in high regard. Transmutation: Desire to change things, dissatisfaction with how things are. Mental Abstractions _______________________________________________In General: Introspectiveness, knowledge/desire to understand/learn, open-mindedness, awareness. Telekinesis: Control, intelligence, outwardness, mastering self. Telepathy: Invasiveness/lack of boundaries, desire to communicate, wanting information/secrets. Inventor/Gadgeteer Desire to find a solution to a problem, having a singular goal that cannot be solved with the present tools. Intelligence/Minds: Lack of knowledge, perceived worthlessness, presented with problems that cannot be physical solve. Dreams: Imaginative, wishes, interpretiveness. Memory: Stress/past grievances, desire to forget/inform, desire to change things, looking to the past, external struggle. Emotion Compassion, understanding people (or lack thereof), closer connection to people, internal struggle. Mind Control: Desire to control, feeling out of control, social isolation/exile. Illusions: Deception (on both sides), belief/thought being proven wrong, desire for something that cannot be gained. | Other Abstractions _______________________________________________Animal: Noticeable lack of connection to people, outcast, connection to nature/love of nature. (This was going to be its own section but I was like nope fuck that lol) Summoning/Minion Creation: Desire for companionship, social isolation/exile. Transformation/Shape-Shifting: Issues involving identity, self-hatred/wanting to be different. Teleportation: Feeling trap/stuck, desire to escape, needing something. Speed: Impatience, desire to get to goal instantly, has problem approaching, a problem that can be ran from, down to earth. Flight: Needing to reach goals/expectations, freedom, idealism. Strength: Being faced with situations that can't be mentally solved, violence/rage, perceived lack of strength/desire to grow stronger, authority. Healing/Repairing: Desire to help people, compassion/kindness, other people's mental scars/past trauma, seeing beauty in something, restoring something else. Regeneration: Desire to fix self, fixing own mental/physical wounds, a goal that they need to see through, self-restoration. Time: Past/Future mistakes, pressure of time, having limited time, lack of management Shields: Protection/desire to protect, danger/damage, caring, imminent threat to self. Creation/Building: The need for something, wanting to build up something new, creativity/self-expression, having problems. Close-Range: Immediate up in your face issue/question, close and personal problems/struggles, problems/solutions being in reach, single or few problems/threats. Long-Range: Looming/upcoming problems, threats approaching/attacking from a distance, multiple threats/problems, things being out of reach. Enchanting/Imbuing: Inadquency, current tools not being sufficient. Beam: Focusing on one thing/task. Enhanced Senses: Desiring awareness or understanding of environmental/task. Stealth: Hiding, secretiveness, unwanted attention, isolation. Death/Necromancery: Loss of family/friend, mourning, going to dark corners, also being an edgelord. Paranormal Related: Knowledge of the supernatural, problem/goal/question related to the paranormal, desire to interact with the paranormal. |
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@Punished GN for your viewing pleasure
“Look, I won’t tell anyone tell me what I can’t do.”
Psychology
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"Yeah, I worked night shift last night, should I be tired? But there’s so much to do, how can I just sleep?"
Backstory
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"Thought I had a pretty standard life till my mum fucking disappeared."
Paranormal-Abilities
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"Nah, you’re gonna have to show me proof of that. Magic ain’t real."
Other
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"I've always wanted to go to America, but I thought it would be with my mum, not like... this."
“Look, I won’t tell anyone tell me what I can’t do.”
 _______________________________________________ Charlotte “Charlie” Martin _______________________________________________ She/They | 22 | Afro-British | 5’6” | 189lb _______________________________________________ Tireless _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "I ain’t naturally gifted, but hard work is a talent, right?” ___________________________________ Hard Worker ⫻ Charlie’s strongest talent. She’s not naturally good at much but she works herself to the bone at anything she focuses on. She focuses all her energy into whatever it is and rarely gives up. Keeping Calm ⫻ As a nursing associate, training to be a full nurse, Charlie has dealt with her fair share of stress and emergencies. She can keep calm and focused in most situations. First Aid ⫻ Charlie is trained in first aid, something she did as a teenager that’s handy for her job. | Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Try working twelve hour shifts without getting dark bags under your eyes." Charlie would describe herself as average if asked. She’s downplaying her looks, but it’s difficult not to when she grew up with an objectively stunning mum. She stands just a bit taller than average, with a pear shaped body where most of her weight goes towards her hips and thighs. She’s fit thanks to a demanding job which has her on her feet most of the day, and healthier eating cause vegetables are just cheaper. Overall Charlie takes more after her dad than her mum, inheriting his coily hair and dark brown eyes. Her hair falls to her shoulders and she likes to style it in various ways - buns, half up half down, braids and protective hairstyles that she learned from her grandmother (but hasn’t had time to do in a while). When she’s not feeling like putting in the effort she’ll normally just pull it back into a simple ponytail or bun, especially for work. Her hair frames a soft, heart shaped face. She has thick, slightly darker lips and a wide, relatively undefined nose. Her dark eyes are always brimming with energy even though she has dark bags under them more often than not from lack of sleep. Her warm brown skin doesn’t have many marks, just a few scars here and there, and she only has the most basic of lobe piercings. Style wise, Charlie wears a variety of clothes. She isn’t afraid to show off some skin, often found in crop tops with skinny jeans or leggings. She wears a mixture of colours - sometimes more low key with just black and denim, sometimes brighter colours. She especially likes reds, yellows and oranges and owns a lot of patterned tops in those colours. She normally has at least a light coating of makeup on, putting in more effort with eyeliner and brighter lip colours when she has the time. |
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"Yeah, I worked night shift last night, should I be tired? But there’s so much to do, how can I just sleep?"
MAIN GOAL ⫻ Charlie’s main goal is to become a qualified nurse. Her secondary goal is to make enough to support herself and her dad so he can work less… but that’s much more far fetched.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Charlie believes in hard work and not giving up - with enough effort you can get where you want to be, even if you don’t have the natural talent. Even if you have to push yourself past your limit you should to reach your goals.
SECRETS ⫻ Her resentment towards her mum for leaving, and for her dad for being too stubborn to compromise. She’s resentful that her mum barely made an effort to see her, but she’s repressed the feeling so much she hardly even accepts it. She also struggles with inferiority towards her mum and her talents, something she’d never tell anyone. She also has a newly discovered fear of flying.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Pan. Charlie figured out her attraction isn’t really affected by gender in late highschool, and has gotten with various people. She hasn’t had a serious relationship, though.
FEARS ⫻ Abandonment. Though she pretended everything was fine, Charlie felt abandoned by her mum at a young age. She clings onto the infrequent relationship they have left and fears it happening in other relationships.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Eleanor Black is Charlie’s mother. She is very much a hands off parent, and not the custodial one of Charlie . They saw each other about four times a year from when Charlie turned 5. Nonetheless, Charlie is very attached to her.
FLAWS ⫻ Charlie has a bad habit of completely ignoring her own needs in favour of others. Mostly just because she doesn’t pay attention to herself, and she’s gotten a bit used to it. She just sometimes kinda forgets to look after herself too. She is almost too hard working and just doesn’t know when to give herself a break. Her seemingly constant energy and socialness can often be annoying, especially to introverts. She can be a lot. Also she tends to cover up her negative feelings, completely disregarding them and forcing herself to be positive about it all. She can also be pretty stubborn and headstrong.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Charlie believes in hard work and not giving up - with enough effort you can get where you want to be, even if you don’t have the natural talent. Even if you have to push yourself past your limit you should to reach your goals.
SECRETS ⫻ Her resentment towards her mum for leaving, and for her dad for being too stubborn to compromise. She’s resentful that her mum barely made an effort to see her, but she’s repressed the feeling so much she hardly even accepts it. She also struggles with inferiority towards her mum and her talents, something she’d never tell anyone. She also has a newly discovered fear of flying.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Pan. Charlie figured out her attraction isn’t really affected by gender in late highschool, and has gotten with various people. She hasn’t had a serious relationship, though.
FEARS ⫻ Abandonment. Though she pretended everything was fine, Charlie felt abandoned by her mum at a young age. She clings onto the infrequent relationship they have left and fears it happening in other relationships.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Eleanor Black is Charlie’s mother. She is very much a hands off parent, and not the custodial one of Charlie . They saw each other about four times a year from when Charlie turned 5. Nonetheless, Charlie is very attached to her.
FLAWS ⫻ Charlie has a bad habit of completely ignoring her own needs in favour of others. Mostly just because she doesn’t pay attention to herself, and she’s gotten a bit used to it. She just sometimes kinda forgets to look after herself too. She is almost too hard working and just doesn’t know when to give herself a break. Her seemingly constant energy and socialness can often be annoying, especially to introverts. She can be a lot. Also she tends to cover up her negative feelings, completely disregarding them and forcing herself to be positive about it all. She can also be pretty stubborn and headstrong.
Backstory
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"Thought I had a pretty standard life till my mum fucking disappeared."
Charlie’s story starts with her parents - Eleanor Black and Andre Martin. They were opposites in many ways, with Eleanor being a loud, energetic artist and Andre a hard working nurse who liked to keep to himself. They met by chance when Eleanor ended up in the hospital where Andre worked in Newcastle. Their connection sparked instantly and they started dating a few weeks after Eleanor was discharged.
Just over half a year later Eleanor found out she was pregnant. After fighting, crying and making up they decided to keep the baby and to marry - it seemed the best idea for their future, unborn child. That was how Charlie came into the world. At first life was happy, if not perfect. It was difficult for the newlyweds to support themselves and a new baby off just a nurse’s salary and what Eleanor made from selling art. But they made it work.
It didn’t last. Charlie was only four when her parents started fighting every week, and five when they started the process of a divorce. Her mother didn’t want to be tied down to one place. She’d been in an artistic slump since Charlie was born and she needed to see the world to help with that. Andre stubbornly refused to move - Charlie was still young, and they’d built a life here. They were both too different. They didn’t get anywhere so they divorced.
Eleanor moved out of their small home, staying in Newcastle for only a month before jetting away. Andre had full custody of Charlie at Eleanor’s request, though Eleanor had visiting rights. Young as she was, Charlie couldn’t understand why her mum was abandoning her. It didn’t take long for the happy memories of the three of them to seem like nothing more than a dream.
From then on Charlie saw her mum maybe four times a year at most, because Eleanor very quickly became an incredibly successful and prolific artist. She started school without her there to see her off. Her dad tried his hardest to take her from and to school, to fill in the shoes of two parents at once but it was difficult when his job had such long, awkwardly timed hours. There were weeks when she hardly saw him either, staying with her grandmother (his mother) who thankfully lived in the area. From then on she was self-sufficient because she saw how much her dad struggled. She resented, even hated, her mum for not being there.
The rest of Charlie’s childhood itself was relatively normal aside from the divorce, in her eyes. She went to school, got average grades and made a few alright friends. As she got older she pushed the resentment she had towards her mum deep down, somewhere she wouldn’t touch, and kept moving forward with her life. She just couldn’t hate her. Young as she was Charlie was very attached to her mum, and any anger she had about the situation was directed at her dad - the one always there.
Eleanor was there for some of Charlie’s important moments - when her exam grades came out, comforting Charlie over her first breakup, when she finished highschool. She just wasn’t there for all of them. But that was fine. Charlie had her dad after all.
She looked forward to whenever her mum would visit, listening to her amazing tales about the places she’d visited and looking at her paintings in awe. Spending time with Eleanor was always fun, a breath of fresh air from the monotony of her life with a somewhat boring dad (that she loved much more than her mum). She had so much to talk about, telling Charlie about a world she hadn’t seen because they couldn’t afford to travel. Sometimes Eleanor would even talk about her hometown, a swamp filled place so different from the grey streets of Newcastle. Charlie would ask about her family too, but Eleanor would always sidestep the question. It wasn’t a pleasant place to visit, she said, but maybe I’ll take you one day.
Of course she didn’t, because Eleanor only spent a week at a time with Charlie before jetting off. Charlie continued through life and finished highschool. She applied for nursing courses at University, wanting to follow in her dad’s footsteps. He took her to all the university open days, helped with the forms and applications. When Charlie didn’t get into any because her grades weren’t good enough he comforted her. Eleanor just told her it wasn’t meant to be over the phone. She just didn’t have the talent.
Charlie didn’t believe that. She didn’t have the natural talent for what she wanted to do like Eleanor had, but she had the work ethic - her dad had taught her that, and the energy she’d inherited from Eleanor allowed her to push herself to work harder than ever. So she found an alternative route, getting a job as a nursing associate at the same hospital Andre worked at. It was hard, but rewarding. Charlie loved working with people.
At this point Charlie hadn’t seen Eleanor since she was in highschool - she’d almost given up on seeing her again, assuming her mum was just too busy with her burgeoning fame. When she got a text that Eleanor was visiting the UK in a month, and would be staying a few weeks, she was over the moon. She rushed to get a bit of time off work, helping Eleanor find a place to stay and planning what they could do. It had been almost two years since she’d last seen her… she couldn’t wait to hear all of Eleanor’s stories, to hug her and tell all her own. She hoped Eleanor was proud of her.
When Charlie opened the door expecting her mum she found a stranger. She must have the wrong, Charlie thought, before the stranger greeted her as if they knew each other. The stranger didn’t even ask before walking right into her home, as if she’d been there plenty of times before. Charlie followed awkwardly, not sure whether to kick the woman out or call the police. But she found her dad talking to her amicably - Sophia was her name. A friend of his, then? But Charlie had never heard of or seen this woman and it wasn’t like Andre could just sneak someone into their house. Then he said something that completely confused her.
“Charlie, why don’t you get your mum a cup of tea?”
What the fuck. Charlie was certain she was hallucinating, it must be from overworking and not sleeping. Her dad was here treating this Sophia - this stranger - as someone he knew well, and as her mum. Charlie had never seen this person before. She spent the next week feeling as if she wasn’t there, relieved when Sophia left. But with her leaving Charlie was left with a feeling of emptiness and disconcertment. Where was her real mum, Eleanor Black? How come her dad thought Sophia was her mum, and Sophia was somehow texting from Eleanor’s phone.
In a fit of what felt like madness Charlie dug through her dads files for her birth certificate. It had two names on it - Andre Martin, and Sophia Blake. Then she turned to the internet, because her mum was a well known artist. But every single painting she’d done, every gallery and article about her, was attributed to Sophia. There wasn’t a sign of Eleanor Black anywhere. It was as if she’d just vanished and only Charlie remembered her. She’d never felt so unsettled. She tried talking to her dad, but all she got in return was concern that she wasn’t looking after herself.
Even her dad, the man who had both loved and hated Eleanor, didn’t remember her.
Charlie tried to put it to the back of her mind for a couple of months, working as if nothing had happened and pretending everything was ok. But it was always at the back of her mind, a niggling fear and horrible feeling that her entire life had been a lie. It just didn’t make sense. She checked online semi-regularly just in case something new came up - and it did. A whole forum of people looking for her mum… Well, looking for someone called Eleanor Black. Everyone’s stories were wildly different. It was as if Eleanor had been so many different people… Charlie couldn’t quite believe it. Must be a prank. But she kept reading because there were similarities. The fact that Eleanor Black was from Quintin, Louisiana for one. Her mum had told her about that town, the place she was born, but had never given any details.
If people were going to Quintin to find out what had happened, then she had to as well.
She scraped together her savings, took long term leave from work and got on the next plane that got her as close to Quintin as possible.
Just over half a year later Eleanor found out she was pregnant. After fighting, crying and making up they decided to keep the baby and to marry - it seemed the best idea for their future, unborn child. That was how Charlie came into the world. At first life was happy, if not perfect. It was difficult for the newlyweds to support themselves and a new baby off just a nurse’s salary and what Eleanor made from selling art. But they made it work.
It didn’t last. Charlie was only four when her parents started fighting every week, and five when they started the process of a divorce. Her mother didn’t want to be tied down to one place. She’d been in an artistic slump since Charlie was born and she needed to see the world to help with that. Andre stubbornly refused to move - Charlie was still young, and they’d built a life here. They were both too different. They didn’t get anywhere so they divorced.
Eleanor moved out of their small home, staying in Newcastle for only a month before jetting away. Andre had full custody of Charlie at Eleanor’s request, though Eleanor had visiting rights. Young as she was, Charlie couldn’t understand why her mum was abandoning her. It didn’t take long for the happy memories of the three of them to seem like nothing more than a dream.
From then on Charlie saw her mum maybe four times a year at most, because Eleanor very quickly became an incredibly successful and prolific artist. She started school without her there to see her off. Her dad tried his hardest to take her from and to school, to fill in the shoes of two parents at once but it was difficult when his job had such long, awkwardly timed hours. There were weeks when she hardly saw him either, staying with her grandmother (his mother) who thankfully lived in the area. From then on she was self-sufficient because she saw how much her dad struggled. She resented, even hated, her mum for not being there.
The rest of Charlie’s childhood itself was relatively normal aside from the divorce, in her eyes. She went to school, got average grades and made a few alright friends. As she got older she pushed the resentment she had towards her mum deep down, somewhere she wouldn’t touch, and kept moving forward with her life. She just couldn’t hate her. Young as she was Charlie was very attached to her mum, and any anger she had about the situation was directed at her dad - the one always there.
Eleanor was there for some of Charlie’s important moments - when her exam grades came out, comforting Charlie over her first breakup, when she finished highschool. She just wasn’t there for all of them. But that was fine. Charlie had her dad after all.
She looked forward to whenever her mum would visit, listening to her amazing tales about the places she’d visited and looking at her paintings in awe. Spending time with Eleanor was always fun, a breath of fresh air from the monotony of her life with a somewhat boring dad (that she loved much more than her mum). She had so much to talk about, telling Charlie about a world she hadn’t seen because they couldn’t afford to travel. Sometimes Eleanor would even talk about her hometown, a swamp filled place so different from the grey streets of Newcastle. Charlie would ask about her family too, but Eleanor would always sidestep the question. It wasn’t a pleasant place to visit, she said, but maybe I’ll take you one day.
Of course she didn’t, because Eleanor only spent a week at a time with Charlie before jetting off. Charlie continued through life and finished highschool. She applied for nursing courses at University, wanting to follow in her dad’s footsteps. He took her to all the university open days, helped with the forms and applications. When Charlie didn’t get into any because her grades weren’t good enough he comforted her. Eleanor just told her it wasn’t meant to be over the phone. She just didn’t have the talent.
Charlie didn’t believe that. She didn’t have the natural talent for what she wanted to do like Eleanor had, but she had the work ethic - her dad had taught her that, and the energy she’d inherited from Eleanor allowed her to push herself to work harder than ever. So she found an alternative route, getting a job as a nursing associate at the same hospital Andre worked at. It was hard, but rewarding. Charlie loved working with people.
At this point Charlie hadn’t seen Eleanor since she was in highschool - she’d almost given up on seeing her again, assuming her mum was just too busy with her burgeoning fame. When she got a text that Eleanor was visiting the UK in a month, and would be staying a few weeks, she was over the moon. She rushed to get a bit of time off work, helping Eleanor find a place to stay and planning what they could do. It had been almost two years since she’d last seen her… she couldn’t wait to hear all of Eleanor’s stories, to hug her and tell all her own. She hoped Eleanor was proud of her.
When Charlie opened the door expecting her mum she found a stranger. She must have the wrong, Charlie thought, before the stranger greeted her as if they knew each other. The stranger didn’t even ask before walking right into her home, as if she’d been there plenty of times before. Charlie followed awkwardly, not sure whether to kick the woman out or call the police. But she found her dad talking to her amicably - Sophia was her name. A friend of his, then? But Charlie had never heard of or seen this woman and it wasn’t like Andre could just sneak someone into their house. Then he said something that completely confused her.
“Charlie, why don’t you get your mum a cup of tea?”
What the fuck. Charlie was certain she was hallucinating, it must be from overworking and not sleeping. Her dad was here treating this Sophia - this stranger - as someone he knew well, and as her mum. Charlie had never seen this person before. She spent the next week feeling as if she wasn’t there, relieved when Sophia left. But with her leaving Charlie was left with a feeling of emptiness and disconcertment. Where was her real mum, Eleanor Black? How come her dad thought Sophia was her mum, and Sophia was somehow texting from Eleanor’s phone.
In a fit of what felt like madness Charlie dug through her dads files for her birth certificate. It had two names on it - Andre Martin, and Sophia Blake. Then she turned to the internet, because her mum was a well known artist. But every single painting she’d done, every gallery and article about her, was attributed to Sophia. There wasn’t a sign of Eleanor Black anywhere. It was as if she’d just vanished and only Charlie remembered her. She’d never felt so unsettled. She tried talking to her dad, but all she got in return was concern that she wasn’t looking after herself.
Even her dad, the man who had both loved and hated Eleanor, didn’t remember her.
Charlie tried to put it to the back of her mind for a couple of months, working as if nothing had happened and pretending everything was ok. But it was always at the back of her mind, a niggling fear and horrible feeling that her entire life had been a lie. It just didn’t make sense. She checked online semi-regularly just in case something new came up - and it did. A whole forum of people looking for her mum… Well, looking for someone called Eleanor Black. Everyone’s stories were wildly different. It was as if Eleanor had been so many different people… Charlie couldn’t quite believe it. Must be a prank. But she kept reading because there were similarities. The fact that Eleanor Black was from Quintin, Louisiana for one. Her mum had told her about that town, the place she was born, but had never given any details.
If people were going to Quintin to find out what had happened, then she had to as well.
She scraped together her savings, took long term leave from work and got on the next plane that got her as close to Quintin as possible.
Paranormal-Abilities
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"Nah, you’re gonna have to show me proof of that. Magic ain’t real."
Charlie is blind.
Other
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"I've always wanted to go to America, but I thought it would be with my mum, not like... this."
This was Charlie’s first time leaving the country, before the farthest she’d gone was London once. It was also her first time on a plane. She didn’t like the experience.
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@Punished GN for your viewing pleasure
“Look, I won’t tell anyone tell me what I can’t do.”Psychology
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Charlotte “Charlie” Martin
_______________________________________________
She/They | 22 | Afro-British | 5’6” | 189lb
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Tireless
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Skills & Talents
"I ain’t naturally gifted, but hard work is a talent, right?”
___________________________________Hard Worker ⫻ Charlie’s strongest talent. She’s not naturally good at much but she works herself to the bone at anything she focuses on. She focuses all her energy into whatever it is and rarely gives up.
Keeping Calm ⫻ As a nursing associate, training to be a full nurse, Charlie has dealt with her fair share of stress and emergencies. She can keep calm and focused in most situations.
First Aid ⫻ Charlie is trained in first aid, something she did as a teenager that’s handy for her job.Appearance
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"Try working twelve hour shifts without getting dark bags under your eyes."Charlie would describe herself as average if asked. She’s downplaying her looks, but it’s difficult not to when she grew up with an objectively stunning mum. She stands just a bit taller than average, with a pear shaped body where most of her weight goes towards her hips and thighs. She’s fit thanks to a demanding job which has her on her feet most of the day, and healthier eating cause vegetables are just cheaper.
Overall Charlie takes more after her dad than her mum, inheriting his coily hair and dark brown eyes. Her hair falls to her shoulders and she likes to style it in various ways - buns, half up half down, braids and protective hairstyles that she learned from her grandmother (but hasn’t had time to do in a while). When she’s not feeling like putting in the effort she’ll normally just pull it back into a simple ponytail or bun, especially for work. Her hair frames a soft, heart shaped face. She has thick, slightly darker lips and a wide, relatively undefined nose. Her dark eyes are always brimming with energy even though she has dark bags under them more often than not from lack of sleep. Her warm brown skin doesn’t have many marks, just a few scars here and there, and she only has the most basic of lobe piercings.
Style wise, Charlie wears a variety of clothes. She isn’t afraid to show off some skin, often found in crop tops with skinny jeans or leggings. She wears a mixture of colours - sometimes more low key with just black and denim, sometimes brighter colours. She especially likes reds, yellows and oranges and owns a lot of patterned tops in those colours. She normally has at least a light coating of makeup on, putting in more effort with eyeliner and brighter lip colours when she has the time.
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"Yeah, I worked night shift last night, should I be tired? But there’s so much to do, how can I just sleep?"MAIN GOAL ⫻ Charlie’s main goal is to become a qualified nurse. Her secondary goal is to make enough to support herself and her dad so he can work less… but that’s much more far fetched.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Charlie believes in hard work and not giving up - with enough effort you can get where you want to be, even if you don’t have the natural talent. Even if you have to push yourself past your limit you should to reach your goals.
SECRETS ⫻ Her resentment towards her mum for leaving, and for her dad for being too stubborn to compromise. She’s resentful that her mum barely made an effort to see her, but she’s repressed the feeling so much she hardly even accepts it. She also struggles with inferiority towards her mum and her talents, something she’d never tell anyone. She also has a newly discovered fear of flying.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Pan. Charlie figured out her attraction isn’t really affected by gender in late highschool, and has gotten with various people. She hasn’t had a serious relationship, though.
FEARS ⫻ Abandonment. Though she pretended everything was fine, Charlie felt abandoned by her mum at a young age. She clings onto the infrequent relationship they have left and fears it happening in other relationships.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Eleanor Black is Charlie’s mother. She is very much a hands off parent, and not the custodial one of Charlie . They saw each other about four times a year from when Charlie turned 5. Nonetheless, Charlie is very attached to her.
FLAWS ⫻ Charlie has a bad habit of completely ignoring her own needs in favour of others. Mostly just because she doesn’t pay attention to herself, and she’s gotten a bit used to it. She just sometimes kinda forgets to look after herself too. She is almost too hard working and just doesn’t know when to give herself a break. Her seemingly constant energy and socialness can often be annoying, especially to introverts. She can be a lot. Also she tends to cover up her negative feelings, completely disregarding them and forcing herself to be positive about it all. She can also be pretty stubborn and headstrong.
Backstory
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"Thought I had a pretty standard life till my mum fucking disappeared."Charlie’s story starts with her parents - Eleanor Black and Andre Martin. They were opposites in many ways, with Eleanor being a loud, energetic artist and Andre a hard working nurse who liked to keep to himself. They met by chance when Eleanor ended up in the hospital where Andre worked in Newcastle. Their connection sparked instantly and they started dating a few weeks after Eleanor was discharged.
Just over half a year later Eleanor found out she was pregnant. After fighting, crying and making up they decided to keep the baby and to marry - it seemed the best idea for their future, unborn child. That was how Charlie came into the world. At first life was happy, if not perfect. It was difficult for the newlyweds to support themselves and a new baby off just a nurse’s salary and what Eleanor made from selling art. But they made it work.
It didn’t last. Charlie was only four when her parents started fighting every week, and five when they started the process of a divorce. Her mother didn’t want to be tied down to one place. She’d been in an artistic slump since Charlie was born and she needed to see the world to help with that. Andre stubbornly refused to move - Charlie was still young, and they’d built a life here. They were both too different. They didn’t get anywhere so they divorced.
Eleanor moved out of their small home, staying in Newcastle for only a month before jetting away. Andre had full custody of Charlie at Eleanor’s request, though Eleanor had visiting rights. Young as she was, Charlie couldn’t understand why her mum was abandoning her. It didn’t take long for the happy memories of the three of them to seem like nothing more than a dream.
From then on Charlie saw her mum maybe four times a year at most, because Eleanor very quickly became an incredibly successful and prolific artist. She started school without her there to see her off. Her dad tried his hardest to take her from and to school, to fill in the shoes of two parents at once but it was difficult when his job had such long, awkwardly timed hours. There were weeks when she hardly saw him either, staying with her grandmother (his mother) who thankfully lived in the area. From then on she was self-sufficient because she saw how much her dad struggled. She resented, even hated, her mum for not being there.
The rest of Charlie’s childhood itself was relatively normal aside from the divorce, in her eyes. She went to school, got average grades and made a few alright friends. As she got older she pushed the resentment she had towards her mum deep down, somewhere she wouldn’t touch, and kept moving forward with her life. She just couldn’t hate her. Young as she was Charlie was very attached to her mum, and any anger she had about the situation was directed at her dad - the one always there.
Eleanor was there for some of Charlie’s important moments - when her exam grades came out, comforting Charlie over her first breakup, when she finished highschool. She just wasn’t there for all of them. But that was fine. Charlie had her dad after all.
She looked forward to whenever her mum would visit, listening to her amazing tales about the places she’d visited and looking at her paintings in awe. Spending time with Eleanor was always fun, a breath of fresh air from the monotony of her life with a somewhat boring dad (that she loved much more than her mum). She had so much to talk about, telling Charlie about a world she hadn’t seen because they couldn’t afford to travel. Sometimes Eleanor would even talk about her hometown, a swamp filled place so different from the grey streets of Newcastle. Charlie would ask about her family too, but Eleanor would always sidestep the question. It wasn’t a pleasant place to visit, she said, but maybe I’ll take you one day.
Of course she didn’t, because Eleanor only spent a week at a time with Charlie before jetting off. Charlie continued through life and finished highschool. She applied for nursing courses at University, wanting to follow in her dad’s footsteps. He took her to all the university open days, helped with the forms and applications. When Charlie didn’t get into any because her grades weren’t good enough he comforted her. Eleanor just told her it wasn’t meant to be over the phone. She just didn’t have the talent.
Charlie didn’t believe that. She didn’t have the natural talent for what she wanted to do like Eleanor had, but she had the work ethic - her dad had taught her that, and the energy she’d inherited from Eleanor allowed her to push herself to work harder than ever. So she found an alternative route, getting a job as a nursing associate at the same hospital Andre worked at. It was hard, but rewarding. Charlie loved working with people.
At this point Charlie hadn’t seen Eleanor since she was in highschool - she’d almost given up on seeing her again, assuming her mum was just too busy with her burgeoning fame. When she got a text that Eleanor was visiting the UK in a month, and would be staying a few weeks, she was over the moon. She rushed to get a bit of time off work, helping Eleanor find a place to stay and planning what they could do. It had been almost two years since she’d last seen her… she couldn’t wait to hear all of Eleanor’s stories, to hug her and tell all her own. She hoped Eleanor was proud of her.
When Charlie opened the door expecting her mum she found a stranger. She must have the wrong, Charlie thought, before the stranger greeted her as if they knew each other. The stranger didn’t even ask before walking right into her home, as if she’d been there plenty of times before. Charlie followed awkwardly, not sure whether to kick the woman out or call the police. But she found her dad talking to her amicably - Sophia was her name. A friend of his, then? But Charlie had never heard of or seen this woman and it wasn’t like Andre could just sneak someone into their house. Then he said something that completely confused her.
“Charlie, why don’t you get your mum a cup of tea?”
What the fuck. Charlie was certain she was hallucinating, it must be from overworking and not sleeping. Her dad was here treating this Sophia - this stranger - as someone he knew well, and as her mum. Charlie had never seen this person before. She spent the next week feeling as if she wasn’t there, relieved when Sophia left. But with her leaving Charlie was left with a feeling of emptiness and disconcertment. Where was her real mum, Eleanor Black? How come her dad thought Sophia was her mum, and Sophia was somehow texting from Eleanor’s phone.
In a fit of what felt like madness Charlie dug through her dads files for her birth certificate. It had two names on it - Andre Martin, and Sophia Blake. Then she turned to the internet, because her mum was a well known artist. But every single painting she’d done, every gallery and article about her, was attributed to Sophia. There wasn’t a sign of Eleanor Black anywhere. It was as if she’d just vanished and only Charlie remembered her. She’d never felt so unsettled. She tried talking to her dad, but all she got in return was concern that she wasn’t looking after herself.
Even her dad, the man who had both loved and hated Eleanor, didn’t remember her.
Charlie tried to put it to the back of her mind for a couple of months, working as if nothing had happened and pretending everything was ok. But it was always at the back of her mind, a niggling fear and horrible feeling that her entire life had been a lie. It just didn’t make sense. She checked online semi-regularly just in case something new came up - and it did. A whole forum of people looking for her mum… Well, looking for someone called Eleanor Black. Everyone’s stories were wildly different. It was as if Eleanor had been so many different people… Charlie couldn’t quite believe it. Must be a prank. But she kept reading because there were similarities. The fact that Eleanor Black was from Quintin, Louisiana for one. Her mum had told her about that town, the place she was born, but had never given any details.
If people were going to Quintin to find out what had happened, then she had to as well.
She scraped together her savings, took long term leave from work and got on the next plane that got her as close to Quintin as possible.
Paranormal-Abilities
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"Nah, you’re gonna have to show me proof of that. Magic ain’t real."Charlie is blind.
Other
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"I've always wanted to go to America, but I thought it would be with my mum, not like... this."This was Charlie’s first time leaving the country, before the farthest she’d gone was London once. It was also her first time on a plane. She didn’t like the experience.
🤮
She's accepted, move her to the character taaaaaaab.
Bartimaeus Femboy Gaming
Member
Seen
15 hrs ago
"Honestly - get out of my goddamn face. Ain't got nothin' to say to you."
 _______________________________________________ Zeltzin Sandoval She/Her | 27 | Hispanic (Mexican) | 5'8" (69.6in) | 142lbs _______________________________________________ Stubborn _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "You learn some things, growin' up like I did." ___________________________________ [Persuasive] ⫻ Even after her accident, Zeltzin is a very.. persuasive person. She can usually manage to get her way, whether it be through deception, intimidation, or just raw muscle. [Coordinated] ⫻ Zeltzin is very coordinated, both physically and mentally. She is fast and accurate with her movements, especially when it comes to handling tools, gear, vehicles, etc. and is a strong and fast thinker, giving her an edge in high-speed situations. Of course, her leg limits her somewhat. [Adrenaline-fiend] ⫻ Zeltzin is.. well, she has a history of pushing herself past her limits. She always knows when to stop - but doesn't always care. She can push much further than others once she's hopped up on the high of the moment - or if she just doesn't care anymore. This obviously has some less-than-ideal long-term effects, but don't tell her that. | Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "..nah, it doesn't fuckin' hurt at all." If one were to try and describe Zeltzin's appearance in one term, "simplistically beautiful" wouldn't be far from the truth. While nothing about her particularly stands out from the norm, with her features combined she is admittedly quite attractive - even if her personality doesn't exactly match. Zeltzin possesses a narrowly-heart-shaped face that, while naturally expressive, is usually relegated to some form of surly countenance. Said face is framed loosely by chest-length, thick brown hair that contrasts somewhat with her lighter, yet smoothly-tanned, skin. The darker composition of her features continues finally with her eyes, which are a simple, dark brown - which, next to her thickish, expressive brows, appear somehow piercing, despite their relative lack of animation. Her Hispanic genes don't just stop at her face, of course. Apart from being a bit taller than average at 5'8", Zeltzin is still a relatively petite figure, aside from the curvaceousness of her lower half. This "daintiness", however, is far from who she really is. Closer inspection reveals her to have a particularly toned physique, with definite focus on her biceps and abdominals. One would rarely be able to notice such features withal, due to the unrevealing nature of her wardrobe. Leather jackets, long-sleeved Ts, jeans, pants, jean jackets, boots, and things of the like are common for her. She cares little for others opinions on her apparel, and wears what she wears usually to suit a certain function, or to fit her own tastes. All-in-all, Zeltzin is devoid of any truly glaring features, except one -- a noticeable limp which is often accompanied by abated grimaces - something that oddly polarizes her status as an otherwise healthy young woman. |
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"What's it even matter?? Qué maldito fastidio.."
MAIN GOAL ⫻ Zeltzin doesn't really.. have a main goal in life, really. For most of it she just.. goes with what she's been given. She makes a living where she can and never really thinks too far past that point. But, if she had to think about it.. she really wouldn't have it another way - living life one foot in front of the other is probably what suits her best.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ What happens, happens. There's not much point in dwelling over things that have ailed you. Shrugging it off, shoving past it, or just ignoring your problems may not be the "healthiest" or whatever, but it works, for the mostpart.
SECRETS ⫻ Zeltzin has semi-recently developed a dependency for pain medication.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Bisexual
FEARS ⫻ Zeltzin's greatest fear is being left alone to cope with her pain.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Eleanor and Zeltzin had a deeply loving romantic relationship before Ms. Black's sudden disappearance. Before then, Eleanor was the only shoulder that Zeltzin could lean on after a brutal motorcycle accident left her leg ravaged. Eleanor was the only thing that drove her to get back in the saddle again, and for that, among other things, Zeltzin is forever indebted to her. After Eleanor's disappearance, though, Zeltzin has grown more and more bad-tempered and testy.
FLAWS ⫻ Zeltzin not only has a pretty short fuse and an unapproachable disposition, but is also a rather poor cooperator. She has her own reasons to look for Eleanor, and couldn't give less fucks about anybody else's. Additionally, she has a nasty addiction to painkillers, due to a piece of shrapnel imbedded in her leg having caused nerve-damage.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ What happens, happens. There's not much point in dwelling over things that have ailed you. Shrugging it off, shoving past it, or just ignoring your problems may not be the "healthiest" or whatever, but it works, for the mostpart.
SECRETS ⫻ Zeltzin has semi-recently developed a dependency for pain medication.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Bisexual
FEARS ⫻ Zeltzin's greatest fear is being left alone to cope with her pain.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Eleanor and Zeltzin had a deeply loving romantic relationship before Ms. Black's sudden disappearance. Before then, Eleanor was the only shoulder that Zeltzin could lean on after a brutal motorcycle accident left her leg ravaged. Eleanor was the only thing that drove her to get back in the saddle again, and for that, among other things, Zeltzin is forever indebted to her. After Eleanor's disappearance, though, Zeltzin has grown more and more bad-tempered and testy.
FLAWS ⫻ Zeltzin not only has a pretty short fuse and an unapproachable disposition, but is also a rather poor cooperator. She has her own reasons to look for Eleanor, and couldn't give less fucks about anybody else's. Additionally, she has a nasty addiction to painkillers, due to a piece of shrapnel imbedded in her leg having caused nerve-damage.
Backstory
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"It's nothin' special."
Zeltzin's upbringing was nothing if not a bit.. rough. It could've been worse - but it could've been much better - at least in some folk's eyes.
Being raised in a not-so-well-off area of town by a struggling single mother, she did not enjoy as many luxuries as others did, nor did she get to experience much of any sort of family dynamic. Her mother was always working to support them, leaving Zeltzin to her own devices. Growing up, she had decent grades and less-than-decent friends, with little desire to really change anything about her circumstances. She was just "content", if you could call it that. Ganging up with the "wrong" crowds didn't seem too bad to her - what wasn't there to like about booze, cash, and freedom from the expectations of bosses or whatever?
In fact, Zeltzin enjoyed the freedom of such a lifestyle so much that she had begun making moves towards becoming a career criminal, of sorts. She was making connections - connections that valued her ability to swindle, muscle, or otherwise acquire certain goods from certain crowds.
At least, that was true until she faced a brutal motorcycle accident that sent her directly into emergency care.
It took months upon months for her to recover. Considering the depth and severity of her injuries, which mostly encompassed her right leg, right arm, and torso, Zeltzin's doctors had a tough run of returning her to her former functionality. For the most part, she recuperated very well. However, the depth of damage to her right leg was quite severe - a few pieces of shrapnel having caused nerve-damage - and some of said shrapnel being inoperable due to its precarious location.
This left Zeltzin utterly defeated. She was physically broken and, though she wouldn't admit it, terrified of even thinking about riding again. And she would have been financially fucked, too, if she didn't have the connections she did to cover the sizable medical fees.
But.. fate did not have only destruction in mind for her.
Due to the long-term nature of her wound and the atrophy her leg went through as she healed, if Zeltzin wanted to ever walk or run again, physical therapy was a necessity. And that was how, through the contrite hand of fate, she met the love of her life - Eleanor Black.
Eleanor Black was her physical therapist, and eventually, a reason to carry on for Zeltzin. While it was rocky at first, they eventually began to fall for each other, and grew to be more than just therapist-patient.
Over a year later, the two moved in together. And Eleanor somehow got Zeltzin to get back in the saddle of a motorbike again. After a few years, Zeltzin had moved on to more clean enterprises - eventually earning a living through racing semi-professionally instead of the suspicious tracks she had been into before. Life was turning up for her.
And then.. Eleanor vanished.
Without a trace, the love of her life was gone. Zeltzin was worried. Confused. Angry. Eleanor never returned, and Zeltzin was heartbroken. Life had taken everything from her again. And this time there was nobody there to help her get through it.
After Eleanor's disappearance, Zeltzin's demeanor soured considerably. Her chill, carefree, adventurous bearing rotted away into something more.. cross with the world. Now, people only describe her as "surly", "crabby", or "asshole".
But, she still holds.. something close to her heart. As evident by her discovery of an online medium through which there were a bunch of strangers trying to find her Eleanor. If she weren't looking for it, she never could've found such a thing.
So, it seemed there was only one option.. she was going to Quintin, Louisiana. She wasn't going to let a bunch of strangers go on a manhunt for Eleanor without her. And.. part of her thought that maybe, just maybe, they could find something. Anything.
And not once did it cross her mind that she might not know Eleanor was well as she thought.
Being raised in a not-so-well-off area of town by a struggling single mother, she did not enjoy as many luxuries as others did, nor did she get to experience much of any sort of family dynamic. Her mother was always working to support them, leaving Zeltzin to her own devices. Growing up, she had decent grades and less-than-decent friends, with little desire to really change anything about her circumstances. She was just "content", if you could call it that. Ganging up with the "wrong" crowds didn't seem too bad to her - what wasn't there to like about booze, cash, and freedom from the expectations of bosses or whatever?
In fact, Zeltzin enjoyed the freedom of such a lifestyle so much that she had begun making moves towards becoming a career criminal, of sorts. She was making connections - connections that valued her ability to swindle, muscle, or otherwise acquire certain goods from certain crowds.
At least, that was true until she faced a brutal motorcycle accident that sent her directly into emergency care.
It took months upon months for her to recover. Considering the depth and severity of her injuries, which mostly encompassed her right leg, right arm, and torso, Zeltzin's doctors had a tough run of returning her to her former functionality. For the most part, she recuperated very well. However, the depth of damage to her right leg was quite severe - a few pieces of shrapnel having caused nerve-damage - and some of said shrapnel being inoperable due to its precarious location.
This left Zeltzin utterly defeated. She was physically broken and, though she wouldn't admit it, terrified of even thinking about riding again. And she would have been financially fucked, too, if she didn't have the connections she did to cover the sizable medical fees.
But.. fate did not have only destruction in mind for her.
Due to the long-term nature of her wound and the atrophy her leg went through as she healed, if Zeltzin wanted to ever walk or run again, physical therapy was a necessity. And that was how, through the contrite hand of fate, she met the love of her life - Eleanor Black.
Eleanor Black was her physical therapist, and eventually, a reason to carry on for Zeltzin. While it was rocky at first, they eventually began to fall for each other, and grew to be more than just therapist-patient.
Over a year later, the two moved in together. And Eleanor somehow got Zeltzin to get back in the saddle of a motorbike again. After a few years, Zeltzin had moved on to more clean enterprises - eventually earning a living through racing semi-professionally instead of the suspicious tracks she had been into before. Life was turning up for her.
And then.. Eleanor vanished.
Without a trace, the love of her life was gone. Zeltzin was worried. Confused. Angry. Eleanor never returned, and Zeltzin was heartbroken. Life had taken everything from her again. And this time there was nobody there to help her get through it.
After Eleanor's disappearance, Zeltzin's demeanor soured considerably. Her chill, carefree, adventurous bearing rotted away into something more.. cross with the world. Now, people only describe her as "surly", "crabby", or "asshole".
But, she still holds.. something close to her heart. As evident by her discovery of an online medium through which there were a bunch of strangers trying to find her Eleanor. If she weren't looking for it, she never could've found such a thing.
So, it seemed there was only one option.. she was going to Quintin, Louisiana. She wasn't going to let a bunch of strangers go on a manhunt for Eleanor without her. And.. part of her thought that maybe, just maybe, they could find something. Anything.
And not once did it cross her mind that she might not know Eleanor was well as she thought.
Paranormal-Abilities
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"Bullshit."
Other
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".."
Technically, Zeltzin has been suggested a cane, but refuses to use it. She does carry it on her bike, though.
GM
Mixtape Ghost N SOMETIMES EVЕN RICH NIGGAS GET LOST
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0-24 hrs ago
SOMETIMES EVЕN RICH NIGGAS GET LOST
11081 posts
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in 3991 days
@Bartimaeus My only request is for you to brighten her colors just a little bit. They’re hard to see.
If you do that she’s accepted.
If you do that she’s accepted.
Bartimaeus Femboy Gaming
Member
Seen
15 hrs ago
@Punished GN will do! Thank!
Drag Mummy's Cheeky Boy
Member
Seen
1 yr ago
"Just “Gene”, thank ya kindly."
 _______________________________________________ Eugene Kurt Watson He/Him | 31 | Caucasian | 6’0 | 120lbs _______________________________________________ Deceit _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "I learned this one at bible camp." ___________________________________ Lockpicking ⫻ A talent, naturally, kept hidden but Gene is a savant when it comes to picking the locks of doors, cars, even a safe on one or two occasions. He does naturally require some kind of tool, especially the more complex a lock it is, but he has yet to encounter one he couldn’t make sing. Engineering ⫻ His apprenticeship of choice, he’s not a specialist and his expertise tends towards factory machine maintenance but Gene is comfortable with a toolkit and can work his way around stubborn cars or a faulty toaster if needs be. Urban Survivalist ⫻ With his upbringing below the poverty line and his choice of work later in life, Gene is something of an expert in making it through the days on the streets. Shoplifting dinner, pickpocketing bus fare and keeping a low profile during it all. Mama would be proud. Slickster ⫻ A master at spinning elaborate webs of deceit, designed to separate some poor fool from their money. Gene is charming and deceptively good at reading people. Even those who can tell the superficiality in his words have often found themselves still wanting to believe them. | Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Nothin’ special about me, friend." Gene Watson is both unremarkable enough to not stick in your memory and unique enough as to not seem like he’s trying too hard to blend in. He always appears laid back and affable but with some strange guard surrounding it, like speaking to a coworker you don’t know all that well. There’s always some level of performance to his mannerisms. He may not monologue or flair dramatically all that often, but he clearly enjoys listening to himself. In keeping with his relaxed demeanour, Gene sports a long and messy head of black hair, more on the "mop top" side than the mullet side. Along with a scraggly beard that, coupled with his lithe figure and unkempt style, straddles the line between charmingly roguish and "rat-like". The only failing in his air of civility are his eyes, half-closed and dull grey yet always alert - either in focus or in preparation to flee as the situation may warrant. While his frame is very lean, bordering on gangly, his job under the hot Texas sun has given him an athletic, if not well-defined, body. The only giveaway of anything close to a hard life are the occasional faint bits of scarring on his hands and face. Gene's dress sense is more than a little conspicuous from the point of view of the average person but generally right at home within Texas. Black stetson hat to combat the sun combined with generally loose-fitting clothing to keep as cool as can be in the dry air. He avoids darker colours for the same reasons and tends towards an overshirt over a graphic tee that also serves to hide his build. Ensemble completed by light coloured chinos and dark brown cowboy boots. A climate fitting wardrobe and a deceptively good one to obscure yourself with. |
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"Hey, bud, can you keep a secret? There’s this Nigerian prince…"
MAIN GOAL ⫻ To emancipate himself from the exceedingly soul crushing existence that is working full time for minimum wage and with zero hope of progression. He’d escaped it once only to be forced back in by necessity. More unrealistically, he’d also enjoy not looking over his shoulder for the rest of his life and keeping his head down.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ People are, broadly speaking, snakes with varying levels of depths they’re willing to sink to in order to survive. If someone gets upset at you ripping them off, it’s really only because you did it to them first before they could do it to you. Gene doesn’t go out of his way to be an asshole and isn’t quite at the level of a sociopath but his experiences in life have taught him that greed exists in every person, the only way to not end up as a statistic or a sad story is simply to weaponize your own immorality better than others.
SECRETS ⫻ Eugene Watson of Ward County, Texas is an alias. In truth, he is Floyd Dillinger from Macon, Georgia. A wanted con-man, stick up artist and criminal, living hidden in plain sight after changing his appearance and erasing his identity.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Gene is heterosexual but has only had one romantic relationship with a genuine emotional connection.
FEARS ⫻ Seemingly fears the “regularness of life” and, to a lesser extent, living with the things he’s done that have ultimately brought him right back where he started. More saliently he’s also terrified at being caught and arrested.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Partner-in-crime, best friend, lover. Eleanor rescued Floyd from a life of petty existence and the duo cut a swathe of scams and robberies across the deep south.
FLAWS ⫻ Floyd Dillinger began as - and deep down still is - an earnest and not-all-that-bad guy whose brain naturally leans towards dishonest solutions for the multitude of problems he faces. But time has hardened him into a man who wears the skin of an extravagant slickster like a shield. He is prone to taking the low road and thinking the worst of people and situations because it’s never steered him wrong. His need for importance or screwing over established power structures is borderline pathological even when trying hard (though not hard enough) to move beyond his chequered past. He is prone to cowardice, self-loathing and introspection, which is then covered up by showmanship, manipulation and deceit.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ People are, broadly speaking, snakes with varying levels of depths they’re willing to sink to in order to survive. If someone gets upset at you ripping them off, it’s really only because you did it to them first before they could do it to you. Gene doesn’t go out of his way to be an asshole and isn’t quite at the level of a sociopath but his experiences in life have taught him that greed exists in every person, the only way to not end up as a statistic or a sad story is simply to weaponize your own immorality better than others.
SECRETS ⫻ Eugene Watson of Ward County, Texas is an alias. In truth, he is Floyd Dillinger from Macon, Georgia. A wanted con-man, stick up artist and criminal, living hidden in plain sight after changing his appearance and erasing his identity.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Gene is heterosexual but has only had one romantic relationship with a genuine emotional connection.
FEARS ⫻ Seemingly fears the “regularness of life” and, to a lesser extent, living with the things he’s done that have ultimately brought him right back where he started. More saliently he’s also terrified at being caught and arrested.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Partner-in-crime, best friend, lover. Eleanor rescued Floyd from a life of petty existence and the duo cut a swathe of scams and robberies across the deep south.
FLAWS ⫻ Floyd Dillinger began as - and deep down still is - an earnest and not-all-that-bad guy whose brain naturally leans towards dishonest solutions for the multitude of problems he faces. But time has hardened him into a man who wears the skin of an extravagant slickster like a shield. He is prone to taking the low road and thinking the worst of people and situations because it’s never steered him wrong. His need for importance or screwing over established power structures is borderline pathological even when trying hard (though not hard enough) to move beyond his chequered past. He is prone to cowardice, self-loathing and introspection, which is then covered up by showmanship, manipulation and deceit.
Backstory
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"I’m boring, friend. You wouldn't wanna hear about me."
Eugene Watson was born in Ward County, Texas. He studied communications at Texas State University. He works as a gas station attendant at Chevron. He has a cell phone number, a passport, driver’s licence and social security number. He spends his days at work and his evenings and weekends at home by himself.
Eugene Watson does not exist.
Floyd Dillinger was born in Macon, Georgia. The third son of a struggling working class family. His mother a cleaner and his father slaving in a dead end factory job. As a small boy, Floyd would accompany them on their shifts - due to not being able to afford a babysitter - and routinely saw bosses, customers and co-workers alike take advantage of his parent’s good yet naive and weak natures. In spite of his protests, they routinely tried to instil the same values into him, about working hard and treating people with respect even when it wasn’t earned. By the time he regularly attended elementary school, Floyd had already begun stealing money from the worksites for himself.
Determined to not follow the same path as his family, Floyd started hustling other kids well into his teens. Falling in with a bad crowd who alleviated their boredom via theft and random acts of vandalism. When things started getting serious, it wasn’t long until the police were involved. Facing the very real threat of a juvenile detention centre snapped some sense into Floyd, coupled with how hard his family fought for his side even when he really hadn’t deserved it. Out of a desire to change things and more than a degree of sympathy for his family, Floyd knuckled down his last few years of high school and managed to secure an apprenticeship after graduating.
It wasn’t too bad, initially. There was a sense of purpose that Floyd hadn’t anticipated and he felt more than a little happy at how proud his family were of the man he’d become. The issues began arising a year in when his apprenticeship ended. He wouldn’t be kept on. Despite jumping through the hoops and dotting his i’s all he got was a handshake and a “maybe next quarter, son.” He found himself working a minimum wage factory job just like his father in short order. His family were supportive but it fell on deaf ears, he’d ended up as the very kind of person he was terrified of becoming.
Then, one day, she showed up. A woman claiming to be an inspector of some importance with all the paperwork to back it up. She took a tour of the factory while the boss kissed up to her at every turn. It made Floyd sick. That was, until lunch. When the factory floor was mostly empty and he happened to see a certain inspector of some importance pocket the wallets from every coat in the office before nonchalantly leaving the office then right out the front door. He was pretty sure she winked at him from the corner of his eye. Cutting his shift short, Floyd followed her. A confrontation ensued, demands for an explanation, threats, mistrust. Until Floyd started criticising her approach, pointing out with the speed she went at she could’ve taken everything during the morning break and been out the factory much faster among other flaws in her scheme. She smiled, then she held out her hand, shutting him up.
Her name was Eleanor Black.
Floyd put in his notice a day later and left town not long after. Barely giving his family a goodbye before he hopped in a car with Eleanor and the two drove off with no destination in mind save for their shared distaste of modern life and desire for thrill.
Together, the duo cut a path of debauchery throughout the south. They started small, bars and restaurants where they'd concoct elaborate stories to trick people out of the contents of their wallets. Wasn't long before they added full on thefts and B&E's to their repertoire, along with the rare hold-up of service stations or corner stores when they needed to quickly refill the coffers. The police reports shot up wherever they went, and soon enough their fame started catching up to them.
Their standards of living shot down as they'd routinely camp out far from towns so as not to get recognised but they didn't care. It wasn't about the money or the things it afforded, Floyd felt alive. More than a statistic or a number on a badge or a troublemaker or a criminal. He felt like he existed, he and this wonderful woman who may have stoked his worst impulses but understood him in a way no one else did.
There was one time, beneath the stars on a humid night in Florida. They were both drunk out of their minds - courtesy of the "generosity" from their latest mark. Eleanor, who guarded her own past with humour or coy deflection, began telling Floyd about herself. Where she lived, what it was like, why she left. "Swamptown USA" Floyd had laughed. "If you still don't want to tell me, don't worry about it." He said, then turned and fell into a heavy alcohol-assisted slumber.
The following morning they went into town for one last scam for the road before splitting state for somewhere else. Eleanor was distant, quiet. She got like that sometimes before an act, focus maybe. They stepped into the store, pieces kept securely in their pockets. No one ever got hurt, they were smart about it, preform with enough force and people will fold however you want them. Floyd hadn't even fired his gun once throughout their career.
"Empty the register!" He yelled with a click as the clerk found himself eye-to-eye with a nine millimetre. Behind Floyd, Ellie worked crowd control just like they always did. The clerk hesitated, as they always did, but a more forceful repeat of the request by Floyd made him co-operate. Their bag halfway full, a bell and a crash rung behind Floyd. He whipped his head around to see someone charging out the store, screaming for help, he turned further to find the store empty. No customers, no Eleanor. When he turned back, the clerk had hidden under the counter and pressed an alarm. Floyd could already hear sirens.
What followed was a blur. The pure survival instinct of a wild animal beset upon by hunters. Flashes of red and blue, running from alley to alley, hiding beneath cars and debris. Spending the night in a drain with the rest of society's shit. In the early hours after stealing new clothes from a washing line and keeping a thirty metre berth from any passer-by, Floyd made it to a payphone. He punched in the number Eleanor had made him memorise. It went through to a hardware store in South Carolina. Phrases were exchanged and all Floyd was left with with was a two day timezone to lay low and vague directions on where to go to be picked up at dawn of day three. By some divine miracle for a guy that really didn't deserve it, Floyd made it. Shuffled into the back of a hardware van and tucked amongst tools and furniture, being told his new name, history, likes and dislikes as he was whisked from car to car towards his new life.
The first few months were hell. Gripped in paranoia and constantly second guessing every decision, lest it blow his cover. He'd long since grown out his neatly-cut dirty blonde hair into a long dyed black mane along with his clean shaven jaw giving way to a scraggly Jesus beard. But it never felt enough. It wasn't until the support from his "disappearers" stopped when his money dried up and he was forced to begin providing for himself did he regain some semblance of normality. Working quietly in a shitty job in some nowhere town. Only this time he didn’t have Eleanor or his family to fall back on.
Then, one day, he saw a news story that ran about one half of a notorious stick-up duo being arrested in Chicago. Partner and lover of the notorious “Pretty Boy” Floyd Dillinger, Elizabeth Burrows. It stopped Gene cold. She was different… radically different actually. She’d gone so above and beyond the changing of the identity thing that she was like a completely different person. Horrified for her and panicked for his own safety, Floyd took three different buses to the furthest away library and logged in to their computers (then enabled private browsing as if that made any difference). Searching Elizabeth Burrows turned out several results for all kinds of cons committed by the two of them. But searching Eleanor Black turned up very little of anything. Had she really trusted him so little as to not even tell him her real name? Every clip he watched of Elizabeth seemed wrong in a vaguely familiar way, like she was a memory of Eleanor instead of the woman herself. It filled him with dread as he frantically looked through everything pertaining to both names.
She was going to fold on him, tell the world where he was and how to get him, she wasn’t the real Eleanor, it was some kind of sting to get at him, it had to be! Then he stumbled across a forum on page twenty-seven of the Eleanor Black search. People describing the woman he knew, details about her life that they couldn’t possibly have known. Lives she’d led that she couldn’t possibly have done so. Confused, scared and against his better judgement, Gene joined the forum under a pseudonym and joined the conversation.
“Swamptown U.S.A”. That’s where they were going.
Maybe they were all just a bunch of nuts, maybe Gene really had lost his mind, maybe Eleanor really never cared about him and that truly was her being held by the state. Or maybe she was in Louisiana, calling for him with a con only he would know.
Whatever it was, Gene left with a renewed sense of purpose. Texas had long since gotten old anyway…
Eugene Watson does not exist.
Floyd Dillinger was born in Macon, Georgia. The third son of a struggling working class family. His mother a cleaner and his father slaving in a dead end factory job. As a small boy, Floyd would accompany them on their shifts - due to not being able to afford a babysitter - and routinely saw bosses, customers and co-workers alike take advantage of his parent’s good yet naive and weak natures. In spite of his protests, they routinely tried to instil the same values into him, about working hard and treating people with respect even when it wasn’t earned. By the time he regularly attended elementary school, Floyd had already begun stealing money from the worksites for himself.
Determined to not follow the same path as his family, Floyd started hustling other kids well into his teens. Falling in with a bad crowd who alleviated their boredom via theft and random acts of vandalism. When things started getting serious, it wasn’t long until the police were involved. Facing the very real threat of a juvenile detention centre snapped some sense into Floyd, coupled with how hard his family fought for his side even when he really hadn’t deserved it. Out of a desire to change things and more than a degree of sympathy for his family, Floyd knuckled down his last few years of high school and managed to secure an apprenticeship after graduating.
It wasn’t too bad, initially. There was a sense of purpose that Floyd hadn’t anticipated and he felt more than a little happy at how proud his family were of the man he’d become. The issues began arising a year in when his apprenticeship ended. He wouldn’t be kept on. Despite jumping through the hoops and dotting his i’s all he got was a handshake and a “maybe next quarter, son.” He found himself working a minimum wage factory job just like his father in short order. His family were supportive but it fell on deaf ears, he’d ended up as the very kind of person he was terrified of becoming.
Then, one day, she showed up. A woman claiming to be an inspector of some importance with all the paperwork to back it up. She took a tour of the factory while the boss kissed up to her at every turn. It made Floyd sick. That was, until lunch. When the factory floor was mostly empty and he happened to see a certain inspector of some importance pocket the wallets from every coat in the office before nonchalantly leaving the office then right out the front door. He was pretty sure she winked at him from the corner of his eye. Cutting his shift short, Floyd followed her. A confrontation ensued, demands for an explanation, threats, mistrust. Until Floyd started criticising her approach, pointing out with the speed she went at she could’ve taken everything during the morning break and been out the factory much faster among other flaws in her scheme. She smiled, then she held out her hand, shutting him up.
Her name was Eleanor Black.
Floyd put in his notice a day later and left town not long after. Barely giving his family a goodbye before he hopped in a car with Eleanor and the two drove off with no destination in mind save for their shared distaste of modern life and desire for thrill.
Together, the duo cut a path of debauchery throughout the south. They started small, bars and restaurants where they'd concoct elaborate stories to trick people out of the contents of their wallets. Wasn't long before they added full on thefts and B&E's to their repertoire, along with the rare hold-up of service stations or corner stores when they needed to quickly refill the coffers. The police reports shot up wherever they went, and soon enough their fame started catching up to them.
Their standards of living shot down as they'd routinely camp out far from towns so as not to get recognised but they didn't care. It wasn't about the money or the things it afforded, Floyd felt alive. More than a statistic or a number on a badge or a troublemaker or a criminal. He felt like he existed, he and this wonderful woman who may have stoked his worst impulses but understood him in a way no one else did.
There was one time, beneath the stars on a humid night in Florida. They were both drunk out of their minds - courtesy of the "generosity" from their latest mark. Eleanor, who guarded her own past with humour or coy deflection, began telling Floyd about herself. Where she lived, what it was like, why she left. "Swamptown USA" Floyd had laughed. "If you still don't want to tell me, don't worry about it." He said, then turned and fell into a heavy alcohol-assisted slumber.
The following morning they went into town for one last scam for the road before splitting state for somewhere else. Eleanor was distant, quiet. She got like that sometimes before an act, focus maybe. They stepped into the store, pieces kept securely in their pockets. No one ever got hurt, they were smart about it, preform with enough force and people will fold however you want them. Floyd hadn't even fired his gun once throughout their career.
"Empty the register!" He yelled with a click as the clerk found himself eye-to-eye with a nine millimetre. Behind Floyd, Ellie worked crowd control just like they always did. The clerk hesitated, as they always did, but a more forceful repeat of the request by Floyd made him co-operate. Their bag halfway full, a bell and a crash rung behind Floyd. He whipped his head around to see someone charging out the store, screaming for help, he turned further to find the store empty. No customers, no Eleanor. When he turned back, the clerk had hidden under the counter and pressed an alarm. Floyd could already hear sirens.
What followed was a blur. The pure survival instinct of a wild animal beset upon by hunters. Flashes of red and blue, running from alley to alley, hiding beneath cars and debris. Spending the night in a drain with the rest of society's shit. In the early hours after stealing new clothes from a washing line and keeping a thirty metre berth from any passer-by, Floyd made it to a payphone. He punched in the number Eleanor had made him memorise. It went through to a hardware store in South Carolina. Phrases were exchanged and all Floyd was left with with was a two day timezone to lay low and vague directions on where to go to be picked up at dawn of day three. By some divine miracle for a guy that really didn't deserve it, Floyd made it. Shuffled into the back of a hardware van and tucked amongst tools and furniture, being told his new name, history, likes and dislikes as he was whisked from car to car towards his new life.
The first few months were hell. Gripped in paranoia and constantly second guessing every decision, lest it blow his cover. He'd long since grown out his neatly-cut dirty blonde hair into a long dyed black mane along with his clean shaven jaw giving way to a scraggly Jesus beard. But it never felt enough. It wasn't until the support from his "disappearers" stopped when his money dried up and he was forced to begin providing for himself did he regain some semblance of normality. Working quietly in a shitty job in some nowhere town. Only this time he didn’t have Eleanor or his family to fall back on.
Then, one day, he saw a news story that ran about one half of a notorious stick-up duo being arrested in Chicago. Partner and lover of the notorious “Pretty Boy” Floyd Dillinger, Elizabeth Burrows. It stopped Gene cold. She was different… radically different actually. She’d gone so above and beyond the changing of the identity thing that she was like a completely different person. Horrified for her and panicked for his own safety, Floyd took three different buses to the furthest away library and logged in to their computers (then enabled private browsing as if that made any difference). Searching Elizabeth Burrows turned out several results for all kinds of cons committed by the two of them. But searching Eleanor Black turned up very little of anything. Had she really trusted him so little as to not even tell him her real name? Every clip he watched of Elizabeth seemed wrong in a vaguely familiar way, like she was a memory of Eleanor instead of the woman herself. It filled him with dread as he frantically looked through everything pertaining to both names.
She was going to fold on him, tell the world where he was and how to get him, she wasn’t the real Eleanor, it was some kind of sting to get at him, it had to be! Then he stumbled across a forum on page twenty-seven of the Eleanor Black search. People describing the woman he knew, details about her life that they couldn’t possibly have known. Lives she’d led that she couldn’t possibly have done so. Confused, scared and against his better judgement, Gene joined the forum under a pseudonym and joined the conversation.
“Swamptown U.S.A”. That’s where they were going.
Maybe they were all just a bunch of nuts, maybe Gene really had lost his mind, maybe Eleanor really never cared about him and that truly was her being held by the state. Or maybe she was in Louisiana, calling for him with a con only he would know.
Whatever it was, Gene left with a renewed sense of purpose. Texas had long since gotten old anyway…
Paranormal-Abilities
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"Magic? Sure, feller, an’ I got a bridge to sell ya."
Other than a magically loose set of morals, Gene is blind.
Other
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"Believe me, ain't no honour among thieves... 'cept for you an' I, of course."
As part of his "hiding in plain sight" disguise, Gene tends to use foundation make-up to hide some of his more obvious scarring, eliminating the public pool from his already narrow list of possible activities.
A lot of the Gene Watson character is based on westerns that Floyd seen growing up, therefore his performance can occasionally veer into hammy or overplaying it at times.
A lot of the Gene Watson character is based on westerns that Floyd seen growing up, therefore his performance can occasionally veer into hammy or overplaying it at times.
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Mixtape Ghost N SOMETIMES EVЕN RICH NIGGAS GET LOST
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Nosuchthing as good writing
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Harmony Webb
"How many of us get a chance to start over?"
 _______________________________________________ Harmony Cressida Webb She/Her | 30 | Ethnicity | 5'7 | 120lbs _______________________________________________ Redemption _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "Just because I don't do it anymore doesn't mean I can't do it." ___________________________________ Office Politics ⫻ Harmony always had a knack for spotting the unspoken alliances, the fallings out, and just where to push to get an advnatage. She's still got it, even if she doesn't work in an office any more. Law ⫻ Harmony was actually an excellent criminal defence lawyer before she became addicted to illicit substances. She may no longer be licensed to practice, but that doesn't make her understanding of it any lesser. | Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "Not exactly my best." Harmony has that slightly gangly look of a teen just grown into her height, except she's looked that way for the last decade and a half. She has the kind of figure that could easily be called graceful, except she has precisely zero ounces of grace in her entire body. The fact that she stands taller than most women doesn't help, and her height only seems to enhance the awkwardness with which she holds herself, and the slenderness of her body. Not that you would notice anything about Harmony's body, as first you would have to notice Harmony herself. Harmony may be unusually tall for a woman, but like many tall women, she does everything she can to reduce the attention she receives, poor posture and a bowed head are the name of the game when it comes to Harmony, and not because she spends too much time glued to instagram, although that hasn't helped. As for the rest? Harmony usually looks pale, almost sickly, and the cause of that are the many scars on her arms. Some small and neat, others larger and more ragged, as things got harder. Strangely, despite all of the other indications of her long-term drug use, Harmony has surprisingly clear skin. As is the tendancy of those trying to hide who they are, harmony trends towards baggy clothing, t-shirts, combats, sweatpants, they all find a place somewhere in her wardrobe. She has a taste for fashion, and anyone that shares it would be able to tell that there has been some attempt to co-ordinate an outfit, but it wars with her shame and guilt. |
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"Used to be a bitch, still kind of a bitch but I'm trying harder now."
MAIN GOAL ⫻ Harmony knows what her parent's expected, but she's not so sure what she expects of herself. Not now anyway. Really she's just trying to put her life back together, and all of that starts with the person that stopped it from ending.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ No matter how much you want to, you can't blame others for your fucked up life. Harmony is the person behind her own mistakes, nobody else. She has to own them, and do her best to redeem herself. Her life used to be about herself, about getting ahead no matter what the cost. She has a lot of making up to do.
SECRETS ⫻ Most people assumed that Harmony's overdose was an accident, in fact it was a deliberate suicide attempt.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Harmony is bisexual.
FEARS ⫻ That there really is no redemption. Harmony is afraid that no matter what she does, she will really never be able to come back from the rock bottom she hit. She was given a second chance at life, and she is terrified that she won't be good enough to deserve it.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Eleanor Black was Harmony's neighbour, an ER doctor who arrived home to see Harmony's apartment door open and found Eleanor unconscious with an empty needle beside her.
FLAWS ⫻ Slow to trust. Harmony worked her way up in the cut throat world of criminal law, defending, in some cases, some of the worst examples of humanity. On top of that she's done some pretty shitty stuff herself, so she knows just how selfish people can be.
Prone to addiction. First it was alcohol, then painkillers, then even worse substances. Harmony has to keep a tight hold of her tendencies for fear of falling back into the same old patterns.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ No matter how much you want to, you can't blame others for your fucked up life. Harmony is the person behind her own mistakes, nobody else. She has to own them, and do her best to redeem herself. Her life used to be about herself, about getting ahead no matter what the cost. She has a lot of making up to do.
SECRETS ⫻ Most people assumed that Harmony's overdose was an accident, in fact it was a deliberate suicide attempt.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Harmony is bisexual.
FEARS ⫻ That there really is no redemption. Harmony is afraid that no matter what she does, she will really never be able to come back from the rock bottom she hit. She was given a second chance at life, and she is terrified that she won't be good enough to deserve it.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Eleanor Black was Harmony's neighbour, an ER doctor who arrived home to see Harmony's apartment door open and found Eleanor unconscious with an empty needle beside her.
FLAWS ⫻ Slow to trust. Harmony worked her way up in the cut throat world of criminal law, defending, in some cases, some of the worst examples of humanity. On top of that she's done some pretty shitty stuff herself, so she knows just how selfish people can be.
Prone to addiction. First it was alcohol, then painkillers, then even worse substances. Harmony has to keep a tight hold of her tendencies for fear of falling back into the same old patterns.
Backstory
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"Pretty sure I saw this one on Netflix..."
Harmony grew up in your average white-collar suburban american family. Two point five kids (actually three) white picket fence and a dog. Harmony's parents were hardly wealthy, but they were well-off enough to make sure that their kids got extra tutoring when they needed it and she managed to achieve highly enough that she earned a generous scholarship to Stanford Law.
She did well in Law School, hardly the top of her class, but with a solid enough record of attainment that she was taken on as a first year associate in a small law firm in LA. She proved to be better in the field than in academia, and swiftly earned a name for herself. Law firms are cut throat places and Harmony, it turned out, was excellent at the office politics game. Harmony was rapidly proving herself to be one of the best associates in the firms history when she was injured by one of her own clients.
The man snapped in the long wait for the Jury to return, attacking Harmony in the interview room. The guard managed to get in there to stop him, but by that point she had already endured a fractured skull and severe internal damage.
Though Harmony survived, she was prescribed powerful painkillers, and before long, developed a dependency on them. She managed with that addiction for a while, but it wasn't long before her work started going down hill, eventually someone senior realised what was happening and Harmony was fired to protect the firm.
It wasn't such a great step down from there to more powerful drugs to bury the pain of her failure. Things got worse, and struggling to find work, Harmony found her funds taking a rapid dip. Promising her parents that there would be a turn around, she borrowed money. She borrowed money from her siblings. Yet all of it disappeared into the black hole of her habit.
Realising how far she had fallen, Harmony made a decision to take herself out of her family's life, and the lives of those around her. Deciding to go out on a high, she blew the last of her money on the best heroin she could afford, and planned her death.
She woke up in a hospital bed with her neighbour, Eleanor Black asleep in the chair beside her. They had been neighbours, but beyond the occasional pleasantries had hardly said a word to each other. Yet Eleanor had saved her life. She'd done something totally selfless. Eleanor helped Harmony get home, sponsored her to an addicts support group, everything a best friend might do. Harmony couldn't believe how generous her otherwise anonymous neighbour had been.
Then one day she was simply gone. The new resident in the apartment claimed to have lived there for years, none of the group she attended every week remembered her. She had just ceased to exist. Driven to the edge of distraction by the apparent fact that she had somehow imagined the person who had saved her life, she started questioning everything about her new lease on life.
Then in her search for answers she found that she wasn't the only person who had met Eleanor Black...
She did well in Law School, hardly the top of her class, but with a solid enough record of attainment that she was taken on as a first year associate in a small law firm in LA. She proved to be better in the field than in academia, and swiftly earned a name for herself. Law firms are cut throat places and Harmony, it turned out, was excellent at the office politics game. Harmony was rapidly proving herself to be one of the best associates in the firms history when she was injured by one of her own clients.
The man snapped in the long wait for the Jury to return, attacking Harmony in the interview room. The guard managed to get in there to stop him, but by that point she had already endured a fractured skull and severe internal damage.
Though Harmony survived, she was prescribed powerful painkillers, and before long, developed a dependency on them. She managed with that addiction for a while, but it wasn't long before her work started going down hill, eventually someone senior realised what was happening and Harmony was fired to protect the firm.
It wasn't such a great step down from there to more powerful drugs to bury the pain of her failure. Things got worse, and struggling to find work, Harmony found her funds taking a rapid dip. Promising her parents that there would be a turn around, she borrowed money. She borrowed money from her siblings. Yet all of it disappeared into the black hole of her habit.
Realising how far she had fallen, Harmony made a decision to take herself out of her family's life, and the lives of those around her. Deciding to go out on a high, she blew the last of her money on the best heroin she could afford, and planned her death.
She woke up in a hospital bed with her neighbour, Eleanor Black asleep in the chair beside her. They had been neighbours, but beyond the occasional pleasantries had hardly said a word to each other. Yet Eleanor had saved her life. She'd done something totally selfless. Eleanor helped Harmony get home, sponsored her to an addicts support group, everything a best friend might do. Harmony couldn't believe how generous her otherwise anonymous neighbour had been.
Then one day she was simply gone. The new resident in the apartment claimed to have lived there for years, none of the group she attended every week remembered her. She had just ceased to exist. Driven to the edge of distraction by the apparent fact that she had somehow imagined the person who had saved her life, she started questioning everything about her new lease on life.
Then in her search for answers she found that she wasn't the only person who had met Eleanor Black...
Paranormal-Abilities
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"Quote about abstraction here."
Other
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"Guess I'm the designated driver now..."
As a recovering addict, Harmony no longer partakes in any alcohol or drugs of any kind, legal or not. She is worried that it might just be the first step back onto the slippey slope.
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Mixtape Ghost N SOMETIMES EVЕN RICH NIGGAS GET LOST
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@Nosuchthing Accepted. Move her to the tab.
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Sybil.Harkness | |
|---|---|
 34 | Sybil Angela Harkness | She/Her "I love this town and I'm trying to help it... but Mary-Louise is a tumor on it." | Description: The story of Sybil Harkness is a story you probably heard a thousand times before: a girl grew up in a small town and ventured out to the big city for school. Except she didn’t really care for city life as it was too hectic for her; so after Sybil graduated medical school after so long, she returned to Quintin and acted as the town’s doctor after the last one retired. Sybil is a tall African-American woman at 5’9 and is lanky due to working out and can’t see without her glasses - she keeps a peculiar ring on at all times. She’s a close friend of the Black Family and maintains a great relationship with them ad she’s the only doctor in town. However, her relationship with the Black Family has been strained and Sybil avoids the Black Family like the plague. It’s been rumored there’s an affair between her and Marcus Black. Paranormal Ability: Unknown |
silvermist1116
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"Anarchy's bitch."
 _______________________________________________ Ophrenia Twilight Winston She/Her | 27 | Black American | 5'7 | 160lb _______________________________________________ Anarchist _______________________________________________ Skills & Talents "There's not a job I haven't worked in the capitalist machine, unfortunately." ___________________________________ Singing and screamo ⫻ She started off singing in her church choir when she was a child, voice of an angel they said. When she found the "devil's" music, she hasn't turned her back on screaming in every song she and her band has written. Sales pitching ⫻ She had to work to earn the money to make it to California with her band. That includes selling furniture, cars, and knives to the average home owner. Once she got good, there's nothing she couldn't sell you. Improvising ⫻ She's quick on her feet with coming up with solutions to problems that don't have easy answers. | Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "The scariest bitch you've ever seen." Ophrenia is 5'7 and 160lbs. The right side of her head was shaved and the left side is permed to make it easier to straighten. Her hair is black and her eyes are a very pale blue. She's been told they're piercing and scary to look at when you first meet her. She has a certain way of smiling when she wants people to feel uncomfortable. It's a grin that makes you feel like she knows all your secrets. Her breasts are average, her hips are wide, she has three piercing in each ear: Industrial piercings, tragus piercings, and normal lobe piercings with medium sizes hoops. All her piercings are silver. She has a hoop nose ring in her right nostril. She's never seen without her favorite black leather jacket. Pray painted on the back across the shoulders is ANARCHY and under it is her name, the names of her band members, and Eleanor Black. The jacket has spiked studs on the arms and flat ones on the collar. Her voice is naturally husky. People thought it was from all the screamo, but she's always sounded that way. |
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"Authority is the enemy."
MAIN GOAL ⫻ She wants to make government change with her band, Trauma. She hopes to inspire their fans to want changes in the government that will benefit everyone and not just the majority.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Real change comes from hard work and perseverance.
SECRETS ⫻ She doesn't really have secrets. More that there are people she'll never tell certain things that she can say to her friends.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Asexual with an aesthetic preference for thick thighs.
FEARS ⫻ She fears that nothing she works hard for will ever work out.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Eleanor Black put up Ophrenia and her band when they first came to California. She was the first friend they made there. Someone who saw their vision and activism with their music.
FLAWS ⫻ She's quite blunt and persistent. She doesn't like hearing the word 'No' and will do whatever it takes to get you on her side. She says what she believes people need to hear, whether they ask her for her opinion or not. She's been told by several friends they hate when she does that, and try as she might to curb her tongue, it only works depending on how much she gives a shit about your feelings.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Real change comes from hard work and perseverance.
SECRETS ⫻ She doesn't really have secrets. More that there are people she'll never tell certain things that she can say to her friends.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Asexual with an aesthetic preference for thick thighs.
FEARS ⫻ She fears that nothing she works hard for will ever work out.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Eleanor Black put up Ophrenia and her band when they first came to California. She was the first friend they made there. Someone who saw their vision and activism with their music.
FLAWS ⫻ She's quite blunt and persistent. She doesn't like hearing the word 'No' and will do whatever it takes to get you on her side. She says what she believes people need to hear, whether they ask her for her opinion or not. She's been told by several friends they hate when she does that, and try as she might to curb her tongue, it only works depending on how much she gives a shit about your feelings.
Backstory
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"Absolutely ordinary."
Ophrenia was a lot of things in her twenty and seven years. She used to sing solo in her church's choir as a kid. She joined Girl Scouts when she was ten, got bored and quit. Did drama club all through middle school, then joined a neighborhood rock band in high school. She took an interest in screamo, and she's been fucking up her voice ever since. Not really. She takes good care of her voice. She can't cripple her own career by fucking around and finding out.
The idea of college wasn't her thing. She saw beyond the bullshit of the American education system, and decided to work different jobs to pay for studio time with her band. She worked in sells for furniture, knives, and used cars, but by far retail and fast food were the worst jobs she's ever had. She worked in an Amazon warehouse for a year, before she quit that to move to California once she and her band had the funds. No matter what job she did, she did good work when she was there. It was during her long hours of busting her ass, that she started to hate capitalism more and more. She got into anarchism as a philosophy and believes that through evolutionary practices, the country would be better off for it. It became the main focus of her band's lyrics, but they never advocate for violence.
Life on the west coast wasn't easy. Way too expensive from the middle class community her band came from. They met Eleanor Black eight months in, when they were on the brink of being evicted from their shitty two bedroom apartment. The land lord had sold the apartment building to some corporate real estate business, and the business decided to kick them out when so they could renovate and turn the complex into condos. Eleanor had been to a few of their shows and caught up with them after a set one night. She and Ophrenia got to talking all night and at the end of it, she offered to move them into a town house she owned. The rent would be the utility bills, since the mortgage was already paid off. Ophrenia couldn't believe their blessing. Eleanor had been a friend ever since.
She helped them with their protest campaigns. Getting them a bigger social media followings, and organizing events for fundraisers so they could do more work to combat capitalisms. Once they were able to float on their own, Eleanor left California for her hometown. Ophrenia thought they would keep in contact, but it's like she disappeared off the face of the earth and her bandmates didn't remember her at all. She couldn't have imagined her, because the friend she knew and the one they knew were two different people. She had to get to the bottom of it and it all started with an internet search and forum that led her to bumfucknowhere Louisana.
The idea of college wasn't her thing. She saw beyond the bullshit of the American education system, and decided to work different jobs to pay for studio time with her band. She worked in sells for furniture, knives, and used cars, but by far retail and fast food were the worst jobs she's ever had. She worked in an Amazon warehouse for a year, before she quit that to move to California once she and her band had the funds. No matter what job she did, she did good work when she was there. It was during her long hours of busting her ass, that she started to hate capitalism more and more. She got into anarchism as a philosophy and believes that through evolutionary practices, the country would be better off for it. It became the main focus of her band's lyrics, but they never advocate for violence.
Life on the west coast wasn't easy. Way too expensive from the middle class community her band came from. They met Eleanor Black eight months in, when they were on the brink of being evicted from their shitty two bedroom apartment. The land lord had sold the apartment building to some corporate real estate business, and the business decided to kick them out when so they could renovate and turn the complex into condos. Eleanor had been to a few of their shows and caught up with them after a set one night. She and Ophrenia got to talking all night and at the end of it, she offered to move them into a town house she owned. The rent would be the utility bills, since the mortgage was already paid off. Ophrenia couldn't believe their blessing. Eleanor had been a friend ever since.
She helped them with their protest campaigns. Getting them a bigger social media followings, and organizing events for fundraisers so they could do more work to combat capitalisms. Once they were able to float on their own, Eleanor left California for her hometown. Ophrenia thought they would keep in contact, but it's like she disappeared off the face of the earth and her bandmates didn't remember her at all. She couldn't have imagined her, because the friend she knew and the one they knew were two different people. She had to get to the bottom of it and it all started with an internet search and forum that led her to bumfucknowhere Louisana.
Paranormal-Abilities
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"What in the hocus pocus bullshit is this?"
Ophrenia doesn't have powers.
Other
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"There's one thing I'm not good at."
She tried to learn how to play the guitar, but it never worked out for her. Her fingers aren't coordinated enough.
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@silvermist1116 She’s awfully heavy for a skinny 5’7 girl. 😛
1x Laugh
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"Anarchy's bitch."Psychology
_______________________________________________
Ophrenia Twilight Winston
She/Her | 27 | Black American | 5'7 | 160lb
_______________________________________________
Anarchist
_______________________________________________
Skills & Talents
"There's not a job I haven't worked in the capitalist machine, unfortunately."
___________________________________
Singing and screamo ⫻ She started off singing in her church choir when she was a child, voice of an angel they said. When she found the "devil's" music, she hasn't turned her back on screaming in every song she and her band has written.
Sales pitching ⫻ She had to work to earn the money to make it to California with her band. That includes selling furniture, cars, and knives to the average home owner. Once she got good, there's nothing she couldn't sell you.
Improvising ⫻ She's quick on her feet with coming up with solutions to problems that don't have easy answers.Appearance
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"The scariest bitch you've ever seen."Ophrenia is 5'7 and 160lbs. The right side of her head was shaved and the left side is permed to make it easier to straighten. Her hair is black and her eyes are a very pale blue. She's been told they're piercing and scary to look at when you first meet her. She has a certain way of smiling when she wants people to feel uncomfortable. It's a grin that makes you feel like she knows all your secrets. Her breasts are average, her hips are wide, she has three piercing in each ear: Industrial piercings, tragus piercings, and normal lobe piercings with medium sizes hoops. All her piercings are silver. She has a hoop nose ring in her right nostril. She's never seen without her favorite black leather jacket. Pray painted on the back across the shoulders is ANARCHY and under it is her name, the names of her band members, and Eleanor Black. The jacket has spiked studs on the arms and flat ones on the collar. Her voice is naturally husky. People thought it was from all the screamo, but she's always sounded that way.
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"Authority is the enemy."MAIN GOAL ⫻ She wants to make government change with her band, Trauma. She hopes to inspire their fans to want changes in the government that will benefit everyone and not just the majority.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ Real change comes from hard work and perseverance.
SECRETS ⫻ She doesn't really have secrets. More that there are people she'll never tell certain things that she can say to her friends.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Asexual with an aesthetic preference for thick thighs.
FEARS ⫻ She fears that nothing she works hard for will ever work out.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Eleanor Black put up Ophrenia and her band when they first came to California. She was the first friend they made there. Someone who saw their vision and activism with their music.
FLAWS ⫻ She's quite blunt and persistent. She doesn't like hearing the word 'No' and will do whatever it takes to get you on her side. She says what she believes people need to hear, whether they ask her for her opinion or not. She's been told by several friends they hate when she does that, and try as she might to curb her tongue, it only works depending on how much she gives a shit about your feelings.
Backstory
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"Absolutely ordinary."Ophrenia was a lot of things in her twenty and seven years. She used to sing solo in her church's choir as a kid. She joined Girl Scouts when she was ten, got bored and quit. Did drama club all through middle school, then joined a neighborhood rock band in high school. She took an interest in screamo, and she's been fucking up her voice ever since. Not really. She takes good care of her voice. She can't cripple her own career by fucking around and finding out.
The idea of college wasn't her thing. She saw beyond the bullshit of the American education system, and decided to work different jobs to pay for studio time with her band. She worked in sells for furniture, knives, and used cars, but by far retail and fast food were the worst jobs she's ever had. She worked in an Amazon warehouse for a year, before she quit that to move to California once she and her band had the funds. No matter what job she did, she did good work when she was there. It was during her long hours of busting her ass, that she started to hate capitalism more and more. She got into anarchism as a philosophy and believes that through evolutionary practices, the country would be better off for it. It became the main focus of her band's lyrics, but they never advocate for violence.
Life on the west coast wasn't easy. Way too expensive from the middle class community her band came from. They met Eleanor Black eight months in, when they were on the brink of being evicted from their shitty two bedroom apartment. The land lord had sold the apartment building to some corporate real estate business, and the business decided to kick them out when so they could renovate and turn the complex into condos. Eleanor had been to a few of their shows and caught up with them after a set one night. She and Ophrenia got to talking all night and at the end of it, she offered to move them into a town house she owned. The rent would be the utility bills, since the mortgage was already paid off. Ophrenia couldn't believe their blessing. Eleanor had been a friend ever since.
She helped them with their protest campaigns. Getting them a bigger social media followings, and organizing events for fundraisers so they could do more work to combat capitalisms. Once they were able to float on their own, Eleanor left California for her hometown. Ophrenia thought they would keep in contact, but it's like she disappeared off the face of the earth and her bandmates didn't remember her at all. She couldn't have imagined her, because the friend she knew and the one they knew were two different people. She had to get to the bottom of it and it all started with an internet search and forum that led her to bumfucknowhere Louisana.
Paranormal-Abilities
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
"What in the hocus pocus bullshit is this?"
Ophrenia doesn't have powers.
Other
▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔
"There's one thing I'm not good at."She tried to learn how to play the guitar, but it never worked out for her. Her fingers aren't coordinated enough.
Just lower her weight a bit and she’s accepted.
Helo Wonderlust King
Member
Seen
27 days ago
"You know that cliche about kids running off to join the circus, that’s me, I’m the cliche."
 _______________________________________________ Wyatt Anderson He/Him | 30 | White | 5’10 | 165lbs _______________________________________________ Showman ___________________________________ Skills & Talents "Full of mostly useless talents." ___________________________________ [Magician] ⫻ Wyatt could probably do most card and coin tricks in his sleep. Adept at sleight of hand, misdirection, and most importantly, keeping people entertained and distracted. [Circus Preformer] ⫻ His job, which has been more or less his whole life for most of his life has instilled a few eccentric skills. In addition to magic; juggling, juggling while riding a unicycle, juggling things that are on fire, and various fire-related tricks are all things he’s comfortable performing. [Optomist] ⫻ He can look at most things and find something good there to focus on. [Fit] ⫻ His hobbies keep him active, his job keeps him active, and budding up with the strongman didn’t hurt either. | Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "I bet I know what you're thinking, that's a mighty fine mustache. Am I right?" Never one to want to blend in, Wyatt takes pride in the features that make him stand out. His fiery hair for one. Way back when folks used to say he had his mother’s hair, and if that’s all she saw fit to leave him with, at least it was something nice. He takes even more pride in his well-maintained facial hair, it all helps draw attention and that’s exactly what a performer wants. He's 5’10 with a muscular build, not only from spending a good deal of time lugging around heavy objects but his choice of workout buddy is the circus’s strongman. Wyatt loves a challenge, even one he knows he could never compete with. As for his skin, there's a dusting of freckles on his face, and a tan rather than a sunburn tends to elude him. Wyatt’s got tattoos on the neck, arms, and chest, all of varying degrees of shoddy quality. They don’t really have meaning, he just likes letting amateurs use him as a sketch pad. He’s got scars here and there, more small scars than stories for them, but you don’t make a living playing with fire without a few. A burn near his wrist, a larger one on his shoulder, but nothing too bad. As far as clothing goes whatever he can get that’s cheap, comfortable, and casual is his preference. |
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"I like to think I made the best out of what I got."
MAIN GOAL ⫻ Find answers to the whole Eleanor conspiracy and once all that is settled, maybe try and go back to the way life was before she vanished. Wyatt isn’t one for big long-term goals, that’s too much structure for him.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ “The point of living is to just go out there and do whatever makes you happy. That and the future’s always a day away, the past is always behind you, so the only thing that matters is right now. Oh and never trust the government or the cops, they’re always up to something.”
SECRETS ⫻ The one thing Wyatt seldom talks about is his dad. His dad was drunk, who left the gas stove running all day, woke up from being passed out, lit up a cigarette, and BOOM, no more old man. That’s the official story, except it was Wyatt who left that stove on and went out to play with friends. It wasn’t intentional, he was a forgetful kid, but that doesn’t stop the guilt.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Hetero
FEARS ⫻ Losing people he’s close to, being left by people who are supposed to stick around, and letting people down.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Buisness partner and good friend.
FLAWS ⫻ Wyatt’s just the classic overly cocky, naturally impulsive, often annoyingly talkative, people pleaser who believes that being fun and exciting is what will make people like him.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ “The point of living is to just go out there and do whatever makes you happy. That and the future’s always a day away, the past is always behind you, so the only thing that matters is right now. Oh and never trust the government or the cops, they’re always up to something.”
SECRETS ⫻ The one thing Wyatt seldom talks about is his dad. His dad was drunk, who left the gas stove running all day, woke up from being passed out, lit up a cigarette, and BOOM, no more old man. That’s the official story, except it was Wyatt who left that stove on and went out to play with friends. It wasn’t intentional, he was a forgetful kid, but that doesn’t stop the guilt.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Hetero
FEARS ⫻ Losing people he’s close to, being left by people who are supposed to stick around, and letting people down.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Buisness partner and good friend.
FLAWS ⫻ Wyatt’s just the classic overly cocky, naturally impulsive, often annoyingly talkative, people pleaser who believes that being fun and exciting is what will make people like him.
Backstory
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"I remember my mom taking me to the circus once when I was real little. The air smelled like corndogs and popcorn. Everything was so colorful and exciting. And there I was just tugging on her hand, desperate to see it all. And I remember it being windy and her red hair was blowing all around. But I don’t remember her face, or much else about her anymore. It was a really good day though, went a long stretch without days that good and that memory kept me goin'.”
That’s the only memory he has of his mother, just a fading presence and a guiding hand on a real good day. She left not long after that, then it was just him and his dad bouncing around through various small towns in Flordia. His dad had trouble keeping work, trouble putting the bottle down, and most days, trouble just getting off the couch. So Wyatt learned how to fend for himself, made friends with whatever neighbors he could, and as long as people liked him, people helped him. Everything more or less worked out, until the accident. Then he was on his own for a while.
There he was doing what he’d always done, bouncing around from place to place trying to figure things out because there was no way he was ending up in some group home situation. It wasn’t long before he snuck into a traveling circus while they were setting up. Wyatt just started helping out, kept just acting like he belonged there and no one wanted to kick out a thirteen-year-old kid who had nowhere to go. So he kept on helping out, learning whatever they were willing to teach him, and they kept on letting him stay.
The way Wyatt likes to tell it, his life started the day he joined the circus. Clowns became his wacky uncles, the fortune teller his wise old grandma, his cousins were all acrobats and jugglers and there was never a dull moment. It was grunt work at first, manning food stands and ticket booths, using every bit of his free time to learn a few talents until he could perform. There was nothing like it, to have crowds of people cheering him on, to have a family that was this close, to never have too much quiet time to dwell on the past. Just always felt like the circus was where he belonged.
Elenanor Black was just another stray they picked up on the road. Wyatt showed her the ropes, and they got along well and became good friends over the next few years. When the old magician retired, it was Eleanor that pushed him to set up his act and take the guy’s place. Eleanor was the brains behind most of his best tricks, the real big showstoppers. She was his business partner, the plant in the audience, the one who triple-checked everything for safety. Everything was going better than he could've ever hoped for.
And then one day she was gone. In her place was someone else and everyone acted like Eleanor Black never even existed. At first, he thought it was a weird joke. How could a circus full of people forget someone who’d traveled with them for almost five years? That would be crazy. So he waited around for the big reveal, ready for a good laugh, but it never came. And the next day Eleanor didn’t show up for rehearsals, “and there was no goddamn way I was doing bullet catcher with a stranger.” So it wasn’t a prank.
Then Wyatt got fired because he refused to pretend that the new girl was Eleanor. No one wanted to work with the crazy guy who kept ranting about someone who didn’t exist. The not knowing just consumed him. He looked for any trace and it was like she’d never existed. And then no one wanted to work with the crazy guy ranting about “CIA black ops MK-ultra shit’s going down, they’re not just making people disappear, it’s like they never existed in the first place. They are out here wiping people’s minds! Or maybe it’s aliens…” No other circus kept him on for more than a few shows and he couldn't keep his focus on performing anyhow. He had to go get a normie job at a dive bar. He knew he sounded crazy, he felt crazy, but he had to know, had to find someone who believed him.
Endless internet searches turned up stories of other people missing an Eleanor Black. All over the world women named Eleanor Black were disappearing. None of it made sense but it all added up to a weird conspiracy that needed unraveling. If others were working on it, he was damn sure going to help. Eleanor was a friend, she was like family, and he won’t be the sort of person who just gives up on family. So off to the Swampland.
There he was doing what he’d always done, bouncing around from place to place trying to figure things out because there was no way he was ending up in some group home situation. It wasn’t long before he snuck into a traveling circus while they were setting up. Wyatt just started helping out, kept just acting like he belonged there and no one wanted to kick out a thirteen-year-old kid who had nowhere to go. So he kept on helping out, learning whatever they were willing to teach him, and they kept on letting him stay.
The way Wyatt likes to tell it, his life started the day he joined the circus. Clowns became his wacky uncles, the fortune teller his wise old grandma, his cousins were all acrobats and jugglers and there was never a dull moment. It was grunt work at first, manning food stands and ticket booths, using every bit of his free time to learn a few talents until he could perform. There was nothing like it, to have crowds of people cheering him on, to have a family that was this close, to never have too much quiet time to dwell on the past. Just always felt like the circus was where he belonged.
Elenanor Black was just another stray they picked up on the road. Wyatt showed her the ropes, and they got along well and became good friends over the next few years. When the old magician retired, it was Eleanor that pushed him to set up his act and take the guy’s place. Eleanor was the brains behind most of his best tricks, the real big showstoppers. She was his business partner, the plant in the audience, the one who triple-checked everything for safety. Everything was going better than he could've ever hoped for.
And then one day she was gone. In her place was someone else and everyone acted like Eleanor Black never even existed. At first, he thought it was a weird joke. How could a circus full of people forget someone who’d traveled with them for almost five years? That would be crazy. So he waited around for the big reveal, ready for a good laugh, but it never came. And the next day Eleanor didn’t show up for rehearsals, “and there was no goddamn way I was doing bullet catcher with a stranger.” So it wasn’t a prank.
Then Wyatt got fired because he refused to pretend that the new girl was Eleanor. No one wanted to work with the crazy guy who kept ranting about someone who didn’t exist. The not knowing just consumed him. He looked for any trace and it was like she’d never existed. And then no one wanted to work with the crazy guy ranting about “CIA black ops MK-ultra shit’s going down, they’re not just making people disappear, it’s like they never existed in the first place. They are out here wiping people’s minds! Or maybe it’s aliens…” No other circus kept him on for more than a few shows and he couldn't keep his focus on performing anyhow. He had to go get a normie job at a dive bar. He knew he sounded crazy, he felt crazy, but he had to know, had to find someone who believed him.
Endless internet searches turned up stories of other people missing an Eleanor Black. All over the world women named Eleanor Black were disappearing. None of it made sense but it all added up to a weird conspiracy that needed unraveling. If others were working on it, he was damn sure going to help. Eleanor was a friend, she was like family, and he won’t be the sort of person who just gives up on family. So off to the Swampland.
Paranormal-Abilities
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"Magic, pretty much know that bag o’ tricks like the back of my hand. Wait, you mean like real magic? Guess anything’s possible, world’s a strange place, but tell me what you saw and I bet I can figure out the trick there."
Blind, and while he’s not naturally skeptical about much, he knows enough about performance magic to believe it’s all about smoke and mirrors.
Other
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"Step right up, ladies and gentlemen, and prepare to witness an awesome spectacle that will make you question the very fabric of reality. I am Antares the Astonding. Here to entertain, captivate, and, most of all, mystify. A quick warning for those in front rows, this show brings the heat!"
GM
Mixtape Ghost N SOMETIMES EVЕN RICH NIGGAS GET LOST
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"You know that cliche about kids running off to join the circus, that’s me, I’m the cliche."Psychology
_______________________________________________
Wyatt Anderson
He/Him | 30 | White | 5’10 | 165lbs
_______________________________________________
Showman
___________________________________
Skills & Talents
"Full of mostly useless talents."
___________________________________
[Magician] ⫻ Wyatt could probably do most card and coin tricks in his sleep. Adept at sleight of hand, misdirection, and most importantly, keeping people entertained and distracted.
[Circus Preformer] ⫻ His job, which has been more or less his whole life for most of his life has instilled a few eccentric skills. In addition to magic; juggling, juggling while riding a unicycle, juggling things that are on fire, and various fire-related tricks are all things he’s comfortable performing.
[Optomist] ⫻ He can look at most things and find something good there to focus on.
[Fit] ⫻ His hobbies keep him active, his job keeps him active, and budding up with the strongman didn’t hurt either.Appearance
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"I bet I know what you're thinking, that's a mighty fine mustache. Am I right?"Never one to want to blend in, Wyatt takes pride in the features that make him stand out. His fiery hair for one. Way back when folks used to say he had his mother’s hair, and if that’s all she saw fit to leave him with, at least it was something nice. He takes even more pride in his well-maintained facial hair, it all helps draw attention and that’s exactly what a performer wants. He's 5’10 with a muscular build, not only from spending a good deal of time lugging around heavy objects but his choice of workout buddy is the circus’s strongman. Wyatt loves a challenge, even one he knows he could never compete with.
As for his skin, there's a dusting of freckles on his face, and a tan rather than a sunburn tends to elude him. Wyatt’s got tattoos on the neck, arms, and chest, all of varying degrees of shoddy quality. They don’t really have meaning, he just likes letting amateurs use him as a sketch pad. He’s got scars here and there, more small scars than stories for them, but you don’t make a living playing with fire without a few. A burn near his wrist, a larger one on his shoulder, but nothing too bad. As far as clothing goes whatever he can get that’s cheap, comfortable, and casual is his preference.
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"I like to think I made the best out of what I got."MAIN GOAL ⫻ Find answers to the whole Eleanor conspiracy and once all that is settled, maybe try and go back to the way life was before she vanished. Wyatt isn’t one for big long-term goals, that’s too much structure for him.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ “The point of living is to just go out there and do whatever makes you happy. That and the future’s always a day away, the past is always behind you, so the only thing that matters is right now. Oh and never trust the government or the cops, they’re always up to something.”
SECRETS ⫻ The one thing Wyatt seldom talks about is his dad. His dad was drunk, who left the gas stove running all day, woke up from being passed out, lit up a cigarette, and BOOM, no more old man. That’s the official story, except it was Wyatt who left that stove on and went out to play with friends. It wasn’t intentional, he was a forgetful kid, but that doesn’t stop the guilt.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Hetero
FEARS ⫻ Losing people he’s close to, being left by people who are supposed to stick around, and letting people down.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Buisness partner and good friend.
FLAWS ⫻ Wyatt’s just the classic overly cocky, naturally impulsive, often annoyingly talkative, people pleaser who believes that being fun and exciting is what will make people like him.
Backstory
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"I remember my mom taking me to the circus once when I was real little. The air smelled like corndogs and popcorn. Everything was so colorful and exciting. And there I was just tugging on her hand, desperate to see it all. And I remember it being windy and her red hair was blowing all around. But I don’t remember her face, or much else about her anymore. It was a really good day though, went a long stretch without days that good and that memory kept me goin'.”That’s the only memory he has of his mother, just a fading presence and a guiding hand on a real good day. She left not long after that, then it was just him and his dad bouncing around through various small towns in Flordia. His dad had trouble keeping work, trouble putting the bottle down, and most days, trouble just getting off the couch. So Wyatt learned how to fend for himself, made friends with whatever neighbors he could, and as long as people liked him, people helped him. Everything more or less worked out, until the accident. Then he was on his own for a while.
There he was doing what he’d always done, bouncing around from place to place trying to figure things out because there was no way he was ending up in some group home situation. It wasn’t long before he snuck into a traveling circus while they were setting up. Wyatt just started helping out, kept just acting like he belonged there and no one wanted to kick out a thirteen-year-old kid who had nowhere to go. So he kept on helping out, learning whatever they were willing to teach him, and they kept on letting him stay.
The way Wyatt likes to tell it, his life started the day he joined the circus. Clowns became his wacky uncles, the fortune teller his wise old grandma, his cousins were all acrobats and jugglers and there was never a dull moment. It was grunt work at first, manning food stands and ticket booths, using every bit of his free time to learn a few talents until he could perform. There was nothing like it, to have crowds of people cheering him on, to have a family that was this close, to never have too much quiet time to dwell on the past. Just always felt like the circus was where he belonged.
Elenanor Black was just another stray they picked up on the road. Wyatt showed her the ropes, and they got along well and became good friends over the next few years. When the old magician retired, it was Eleanor that pushed him to set up his act and take the guy’s place. Eleanor was the brains behind most of his best tricks, the real big showstoppers. She was his business partner, the plant in the audience, the one who triple-checked everything for safety. Everything was going better than he could've ever hoped for.
And then one day she was gone. In her place was someone else and everyone acted like Eleanor Black never even existed. At first, he thought it was a weird joke. How could a circus full of people forget someone who’d traveled with them for almost five years? That would be crazy. So he waited around for the big reveal, ready for a good laugh, but it never came. And the next day Eleanor didn’t show up for rehearsals, “and there was no goddamn way I was doing bullet catcher with a stranger.” So it wasn’t a prank.
Then Wyatt got fired because he refused to pretend that the new girl was Eleanor. No one wanted to work with the crazy guy who kept ranting about someone who didn’t exist. The not knowing just consumed him. He looked for any trace and it was like she’d never existed. And then no one wanted to work with the crazy guy ranting about “CIA black ops MK-ultra shit’s going down, they’re not just making people disappear, it’s like they never existed in the first place. They are out here wiping people’s minds! Or maybe it’s aliens…” No other circus kept him on for more than a few shows and he couldn't keep his focus on performing anyhow. He had to go get a normie job at a dive bar. He knew he sounded crazy, he felt crazy, but he had to know, had to find someone who believed him.
Endless internet searches turned up stories of other people missing an Eleanor Black. All over the world women named Eleanor Black were disappearing. None of it made sense but it all added up to a weird conspiracy that needed unraveling. If others were working on it, he was damn sure going to help. Eleanor was a friend, she was like family, and he won’t be the sort of person who just gives up on family. So off to the Swampland.
Paranormal-Abilities
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"Magic, pretty much know that bag o’ tricks like the back of my hand. Wait, you mean like real magic? Guess anything’s possible, world’s a strange place, but tell me what you saw and I bet I can figure out the trick there."
Blind, and while he’s not naturally skeptical about much, he knows enough about performance magic to believe it’s all about smoke and mirrors.
Other
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"Step right up, ladies and gentlemen, and prepare to witness an awesome spectacle that will make you question the very fabric of reality. I am Antares the Astonding. Here to entertain, captivate, and, most of all, mystify. A quick warning for those in front rows, this show brings the heat!"
Surprise character sheet
Now I think he’s cool but my issue is with his backstory… in your psychology you just start at the part where he joins the circus but you never explain why. or any of his backstory before then. You mention in his psychology that he accidentally killed his father as a kid but never go into detail about something important that.
Also are you on discord?
Helo Wonderlust King
Member
Seen
27 days ago
<Snipped quote by Helo>
Surprise character sheet
Now I think he’s cool but my issue is with his backstory… in your psychology you just start at the part where he joins the circus but you never explain why. or any of his backstory before then. You mention in his psychology that he accidentally killed his father as a kid but never go into detail about something important that.
Also are you on discord?
Gottcha, I did leave it too vague. Added more detail to the backstory and the changes are in white with the rest in gray. Hope that's better. I am on discord.
"You know that cliche about kids running off to join the circus, that’s me, I’m the cliche."
_______________________________________________ Wyatt Anderson He/Him | 30 | White | 5’10 | 165lbs _______________________________________________ Showman ___________________________________ Skills & Talents "Full of mostly useless talents." ___________________________________ [Magician] ⫻ Wyatt could probably do most card and coin tricks in his sleep. Adept at sleight of hand, misdirection, and most importantly, keeping people entertained and distracted. [Circus Preformer] ⫻ His job, which has been more or less his whole life for most of his life has instilled a few eccentric skills. In addition to magic; juggling, juggling while riding a unicycle, juggling things that are on fire, and various fire-related tricks are all things he’s comfortable performing. [Optomist] ⫻ He can look at most things and find something good there to focus on. [Fit] ⫻ His hobbies keep him active, his job keeps him active, and budding up with the strongman didn’t hurt either. | Appearance ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ "I bet I know what you're thinking, that's a mighty fine mustache. Am I right?" Never one to want to blend in, Wyatt takes pride in the features that make him stand out. His fiery hair for one. Way back when folks used to say he had his mother’s hair, and if that’s all she saw fit to leave him with, at least it was something nice. He takes even more pride in his well-maintained facial hair, it all helps draw attention and that’s exactly what a performer wants. He's 5’10 with a muscular build, not only from spending a good deal of time lugging around heavy objects but his choice of workout buddy is the circus’s strongman. Wyatt loves a challenge, even one he knows he could never compete with. As for his skin, there's a dusting of freckles on his face, and a tan rather than a sunburn tends to elude him. Wyatt’s got tattoos on the neck, arms, and chest, all of varying degrees of shoddy quality. They don’t really have meaning, he just likes letting amateurs use him as a sketch pad. He’s got scars here and there, more small scars than stories for them, but you don’t make a living playing with fire without a few. A burn near his wrist, a larger one on his shoulder, but nothing too bad. As far as clothing goes whatever he can get that’s cheap, comfortable, and casual is his preference. |
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"I like to think I made the best out of what I got."
MAIN GOAL ⫻ Find answers to the whole Eleanor conspiracy and once all that is settled, maybe try and go back to the way life was before she vanished. Wyatt isn’t one for big long-term goals, that’s too much structure for him.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ “The point of living is to just go out there and do whatever makes you happy. That and the future’s always a day away, the past is always behind you, so the only thing that matters is right now. Oh and never trust the government or the cops, they’re always up to something.”
SECRETS ⫻ The one thing Wyatt seldom talks about is his dad. His dad was drunk, who left the gas stove running all day, woke up from being passed out, lit up a cigarette, and BOOM, no more old man. That’s the official story, except it was Wyatt who left that stove on and went out to play with friends. It wasn’t intentional, he was a forgetful kid, but that doesn’t stop the guilt.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Hetero
FEARS ⫻ Losing people he’s close to, being left by people who are supposed to stick around, and letting people down.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Buisness partner and good friend.
FLAWS ⫻ Wyatt’s just the classic overly cocky, naturally impulsive, often annoyingly talkative, people pleaser who believes that being fun and exciting is what will make people like him.
PHILOSOPHY ⫻ “The point of living is to just go out there and do whatever makes you happy. That and the future’s always a day away, the past is always behind you, so the only thing that matters is right now. Oh and never trust the government or the cops, they’re always up to something.”
SECRETS ⫻ The one thing Wyatt seldom talks about is his dad. His dad was drunk, who left the gas stove running all day, woke up from being passed out, lit up a cigarette, and BOOM, no more old man. That’s the official story, except it was Wyatt who left that stove on and went out to play with friends. It wasn’t intentional, he was a forgetful kid, but that doesn’t stop the guilt.
SEXUALITY ⫻ Hetero
FEARS ⫻ Losing people he’s close to, being left by people who are supposed to stick around, and letting people down.
WHO IS ELEANOR BLACK TO YOU? ⫻ Buisness partner and good friend.
FLAWS ⫻ Wyatt’s just the classic overly cocky, naturally impulsive, often annoyingly talkative, people pleaser who believes that being fun and exciting is what will make people like him.
Backstory
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"I remember my mom taking me to the circus once when I was real little. The air smelled like corndogs and popcorn. Everything was so colorful and exciting. And there I was just tugging on her hand, desperate to see it all. And I remember it being windy and her red hair was blowing all around. But I don’t remember her face, or much else about her anymore. It was a really good day though, went a long stretch without days that good and that memory kept me goin'.”
That’s the only memory he has of his mother, just a fading presence and a guiding hand on a real good day. She left not long after that, then it was just him and his dad bouncing around through various small towns in Flordia. His dad had trouble keeping work, trouble putting the bottle down, and most days, trouble just getting off the couch.
His dad was never a mean drunk, just someone who’d checked out long ago. Heart still beating, lungs still drawing in breath, but no longer living. Just a hollowed-out husk that had once been a person. Watching someone carry on like that made it difficult to hold onto any resentment over his mother leaving and it only made him feel sorry for his dad. So Wyatt just helped out around the house as much as he could and tried not to bother his dad too much. He figured out how to fend for himself, he’d ingratiate himself with the neighbors; old folks always liked someone willing to do yard work for cheap and other kids usually liked someone willing to do anything so long as it was phrased as a dare. People seemed to like a hard-working daredevil so that’s what he became.
Then the accident happened. He was making lunch, classic mac n cheese from the box, on a lazy summer day. There was a knock at the door in the kitchen followed by the voice of a friend inviting him to come and check out his new trampoline. He just got so excited, he hadn’t even added the cheese packet, just tossed the pot to the other side of the stove and ran out the door. He couldn’t miss out on being one of the first in the neighborhood to try out the trampoline. He could just clean it up later. So he was gone most of the day, after that they’d all gone fishing. By the time he was heading home, it was dark, he saw a fire truck go by and a few moments later he saw that truck in front of his house. There was his whole life up in flames. He’d never been academically gifted but he was quick to add two and two together there and it added up to all his fault.
So he hid, wasn’t like he was going home now. Spent that night in a friend’s treehouse and the next day he heard the full story. So now people were looking for him and he knew he was going to be in so much trouble and he couldn’t stick around for that. Wyatt followed the tracks to the train yard and hopped his way out of town. He hated it, the long stretches with nothing to do but get lost in his thoughts; the what-ifs, and the guilt. He could just kind of feel it; his life flickering out and Wyatt knew how that went, what it looked like to just be a husk that wasn’t quite alive.
When he saw a big billboard advertising a nearby circus, that’s where he went. That was his happiest memory, being five years old at the circus with his mom, and he just wanted to feel that good again. But they weren’t open yet, just setting up and Wyatt just started helping out, kept just acting like he belonged there and no one wanted to kick out a thirteen-year-old kid who had nowhere else to go. So he kept on helping out, traveled with them, learning whatever they were willing to teach him, and they kept on letting him stay. The circus was the perfect place for a fresh start, the work made it easy to forget the past, and he was never alone.
The way Wyatt likes to tell it, his life started the day he joined the circus. Clowns became his wacky uncles, the fortune teller his wise old grandma, his cousins were all acrobats and jugglers and there was never a dull moment. It was grunt work at first, manning food stands and ticket booths, using every bit of his free time to learn a few talents until he could perform. There was nothing like it, to have crowds of people cheering him on, to have a family that was this close, to never have too much quiet time to dwell on the past. Just always felt like the circus was where he belonged.
Elenanor Black was just another stray they picked up on the road. Wyatt showed her the ropes, and they got along well and became good friends over the next few years. When the old magician retired, it was Eleanor that pushed him to set up his act and take the guy’s place. Eleanor was the brains behind most of his best tricks, the real big showstoppers. She was his business partner, the plant in the audience, the one who triple-checked everything for safety. Everything was going better than he could've ever hoped for.
And then one day she was gone. In her place was someone else and everyone acted like Eleanor Black never even existed. At first, he thought it was a weird joke. How could a circus full of people forget someone who’d traveled with them for almost five years? That would be crazy. So he waited around for the big reveal, ready for a good laugh, but it never came. And the next day Eleanor didn’t show up for rehearsals, “and there was no goddamn way I was doing bullet catcher with a stranger.” So it wasn’t a prank.
Then Wyatt got fired because he refused to pretend that the new girl was Eleanor. No one wanted to work with the crazy guy who kept ranting about someone who didn’t exist. The not knowing just consumed him. He looked for any trace and it was like she’d never existed. And then no one wanted to work with the crazy guy ranting about “CIA black ops MK-ultra shit’s going down, they’re not just making people disappear, it’s like they never existed in the first place. They are out here wiping people’s minds! Or maybe it’s aliens…” No other circus kept him on for more than a few shows and he couldn't keep his focus on performing anyhow. He had to go get a normie job at a dive bar. He knew he sounded crazy, he felt crazy, but he had to know, had to find someone who believed him.
Endless internet searches turned up stories of other people missing an Eleanor Black. All over the world women named Eleanor Black were disappearing. None of it made sense but it all added up to a weird conspiracy that needed unraveling. If others were working on it, he was damn sure going to help. Eleanor was a friend, she was like family, and he won’t be the sort of person who just gives up on family. So off to the Swampland.
His dad was never a mean drunk, just someone who’d checked out long ago. Heart still beating, lungs still drawing in breath, but no longer living. Just a hollowed-out husk that had once been a person. Watching someone carry on like that made it difficult to hold onto any resentment over his mother leaving and it only made him feel sorry for his dad. So Wyatt just helped out around the house as much as he could and tried not to bother his dad too much. He figured out how to fend for himself, he’d ingratiate himself with the neighbors; old folks always liked someone willing to do yard work for cheap and other kids usually liked someone willing to do anything so long as it was phrased as a dare. People seemed to like a hard-working daredevil so that’s what he became.
Then the accident happened. He was making lunch, classic mac n cheese from the box, on a lazy summer day. There was a knock at the door in the kitchen followed by the voice of a friend inviting him to come and check out his new trampoline. He just got so excited, he hadn’t even added the cheese packet, just tossed the pot to the other side of the stove and ran out the door. He couldn’t miss out on being one of the first in the neighborhood to try out the trampoline. He could just clean it up later. So he was gone most of the day, after that they’d all gone fishing. By the time he was heading home, it was dark, he saw a fire truck go by and a few moments later he saw that truck in front of his house. There was his whole life up in flames. He’d never been academically gifted but he was quick to add two and two together there and it added up to all his fault.
So he hid, wasn’t like he was going home now. Spent that night in a friend’s treehouse and the next day he heard the full story. So now people were looking for him and he knew he was going to be in so much trouble and he couldn’t stick around for that. Wyatt followed the tracks to the train yard and hopped his way out of town. He hated it, the long stretches with nothing to do but get lost in his thoughts; the what-ifs, and the guilt. He could just kind of feel it; his life flickering out and Wyatt knew how that went, what it looked like to just be a husk that wasn’t quite alive.
When he saw a big billboard advertising a nearby circus, that’s where he went. That was his happiest memory, being five years old at the circus with his mom, and he just wanted to feel that good again. But they weren’t open yet, just setting up and Wyatt just started helping out, kept just acting like he belonged there and no one wanted to kick out a thirteen-year-old kid who had nowhere else to go. So he kept on helping out, traveled with them, learning whatever they were willing to teach him, and they kept on letting him stay. The circus was the perfect place for a fresh start, the work made it easy to forget the past, and he was never alone.
The way Wyatt likes to tell it, his life started the day he joined the circus. Clowns became his wacky uncles, the fortune teller his wise old grandma, his cousins were all acrobats and jugglers and there was never a dull moment. It was grunt work at first, manning food stands and ticket booths, using every bit of his free time to learn a few talents until he could perform. There was nothing like it, to have crowds of people cheering him on, to have a family that was this close, to never have too much quiet time to dwell on the past. Just always felt like the circus was where he belonged.
Elenanor Black was just another stray they picked up on the road. Wyatt showed her the ropes, and they got along well and became good friends over the next few years. When the old magician retired, it was Eleanor that pushed him to set up his act and take the guy’s place. Eleanor was the brains behind most of his best tricks, the real big showstoppers. She was his business partner, the plant in the audience, the one who triple-checked everything for safety. Everything was going better than he could've ever hoped for.
And then one day she was gone. In her place was someone else and everyone acted like Eleanor Black never even existed. At first, he thought it was a weird joke. How could a circus full of people forget someone who’d traveled with them for almost five years? That would be crazy. So he waited around for the big reveal, ready for a good laugh, but it never came. And the next day Eleanor didn’t show up for rehearsals, “and there was no goddamn way I was doing bullet catcher with a stranger.” So it wasn’t a prank.
Then Wyatt got fired because he refused to pretend that the new girl was Eleanor. No one wanted to work with the crazy guy who kept ranting about someone who didn’t exist. The not knowing just consumed him. He looked for any trace and it was like she’d never existed. And then no one wanted to work with the crazy guy ranting about “CIA black ops MK-ultra shit’s going down, they’re not just making people disappear, it’s like they never existed in the first place. They are out here wiping people’s minds! Or maybe it’s aliens…” No other circus kept him on for more than a few shows and he couldn't keep his focus on performing anyhow. He had to go get a normie job at a dive bar. He knew he sounded crazy, he felt crazy, but he had to know, had to find someone who believed him.
Endless internet searches turned up stories of other people missing an Eleanor Black. All over the world women named Eleanor Black were disappearing. None of it made sense but it all added up to a weird conspiracy that needed unraveling. If others were working on it, he was damn sure going to help. Eleanor was a friend, she was like family, and he won’t be the sort of person who just gives up on family. So off to the Swampland.
Paranormal-Abilities
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"Magic, pretty much know that bag o’ tricks like the back of my hand. Wait, you mean like real magic? Guess anything’s possible, world’s a strange place, but tell me what you saw and I bet I can figure out the trick there."
Blind, and while he’s not naturally skeptical about much, he knows enough about performance magic to believe it’s all about smoke and mirrors.
Other
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"Step right up, ladies and gentlemen, and prepare to witness an awesome spectacle that will make you question the very fabric of reality. I am Antares the Astonding. Here to entertain, captivate, and, most of all, mystify. A quick warning for those in front rows, this show brings the heat!"
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