Name: Dallas Robertson
Age: 19
Gender: Male

Appearance:
Dallas is almost a perfect example of the tall, dark, and handsome stereotype. Standing at around 6'2" with a creamy white complexion and a face that could melt women from a mile away. However this seems to be marred by social stereotype as soon as someone sees him for who he actually is...

He has naturally pitch black hair grown in an emo-style cut that hangs of his left eye, the right side of his hair is pulled back behind his ear and causes it to flare out on the ends. A chinstrap comes forth to frame his round face cause without it he looks a bit to boyish for his taste. His eyes are an icy blue and can just about wreck anyone's ability to stare him down.

He dresses in your standard dark colored outfits for the socially outcast. Often wearing converse or some sort of heavy boot, darkly stained jeans, a plain-dark T-Shirt and striped jackets. Occasionally he's been seen dressing almost preppy.

He also has a sapphire stud in his right ear. That seems to have sentimental significance.

Personality:
Despite his dark look Dallas is far from any sort of emo-child or gothkid personality, however he does like to sit alone in a corner. He is always smiling, laughing quite obnoxiously, and doing god-knows-what. Those who judge by appearances often have trouble getting past his appearance (which is sometimes marred with black and masculine make-up) and never get to see Dallas' inner beauty. Even with appearances out of the picture it's still kinda hard to get past his first impression.

You see, Dallas has an edge, and this has earned him his status as a legend of snark. He has a rule, and a very annoying one. "If you can't handle me at my worst, you can't handle me at my best." Meaning, when you meet him, you have a fifty fifty chance on meeting the biggest douche you've ever met in your life, he likes to keep most people at a distance so the ones who can get past that he knows are keepers.

He does butt heads with some people who are more forthright about things, but he insists on being a mystery. His charms are also something to be wary of. When he starts putting on the flirt it's hard not to be sucked in by it, however it's often shallow. When it's not shallow, play-flirting it often means he is in love or wants to make friends.

The last thing about Dallas, the thing that nobody notices half the time because it's so situational, is he is very, unhealthily, chaste. The kid can't even take his shirt off. Like the rest of him, he believe you have to work to get to know him (even his nips), and you just about have to marry him to finally know Dallas through and through, and in his mind, that's how it's supposed to be.

Brief Biography:
Dallas had his parents split up when he was young, but it didn't effect him much. He just rolled with the punches and went on with life, growing up with his mother as a single parent he had it pretty easy, he wasn't rich, but living was more than comfy. But that all changed when the fire nation attacked... Err, so to speak.

When he was old enough to do some more strenuous chores his mother swamped him with expectations out the wazoo. He had to make all A's, he had to cook, and clean, get a job, learn to drive, look into scholarships, go to church, mow the yard, sweep the floors, clean the kitchen, do the dishes, do the laundry, polish the tables, vacuum the rugs, feed the cat, pump the gas, take out the trash, make his bed, make her bed, do her dishes, do her errands, go the college she wanted him to, look the way she wanted him to, live the way she wanted him to... His own life was put on the back burner for her ideals.

He... Got fed up with it. Everything he was suddenly became anti-her, to the point even he forgot himself. The result was a darkness that inked onto his personality and style, and a confusion of self. His strive for independence suppressed and released traits about himself in a near random fashion.

This confusion is what causes him to push others away at first, his appearance warding off even more people. Eventually the radical change from a perfect boy to a troubled boy infected the high school with rumors, as well as the community immediately in touch with him, only furthering the burial of the true Dallas.

Relationship W/ Mother:
Dallas and his mother have a give-and-take in their relationship. In truth they almost hate each other, but they love each other so much because since his father left they're about all each other has when the night rolls over. Dallas' mother is a southern-style, old-school, work-obsessed individual whose annoying and relentless demands out of Dallas have broke him down. Dallas hates work because of how much his mother has made him in the past several years since he's been a teenager. He is also open minded where she is dogmatic, quite where she is loud, and understanding where she is not.

Virtue:
Chastity

Name: Nur'Sahara Housseini (Americanized it to 'Sara,' which is how most people address her; Her family calls her Sahara, and that is the name she identifies with)
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Appearance:
At five foot nine, Sahara is somewhat taller than average in height and has a slim figure usually too obscured in layers and thick clothing to be distinguished. Her skin is best described as olive, with subtle yellow undertones that become more apparent after some time in the sun. She has a distinctly ovular face with soft features, thin lips that she has a habit of pressing tightly together whenever she is thinking too hard about something, and a short white scar on her left cheek. Her most distinguishable features are her eyes. Large, dark, and usually framed by black eyeliner -the only makeup she wears- her gaze is almost eerily intense, if only because it's so hard to read. Under the outer corner of her left eye, she has a small, light beauty mark.

Though she rarely wears her hijab anymore, she still dresses very modestly. Her hair, straight, and a very dark brown that seems to be black in most lights, falls down almost to her waist when let down. That said, it's usually pulled back into a tight braid. Her arms and legs are always covered, usually by dull, baggy clothes. The only piece of jewelry she wears is a leather cord around her neck that holds a small, polished block of wood engraved with a word in Arabic. She holds herself well, shoulders drawn back and back rigidly straight, but her tendency to keep her chin tucked and eyes on the floor negate any confidence this posture might project. Her formality only seems to drop whenever she is very focused on whatever task is at hand.

Personality:
The impression that she leaves on most is of a sweet but almost painfully shy young woman. Though better than she was when she first moved to Hope, she'll still only rarely instigate a conversation, and especially has trouble speaking with men. That isn't that she doesn't want to be talk to people; on the contrary, Sahara loves people, and very much desires the close friendships she has always seen and admired between other people. In pursuit of this goal she tries to force herself into conversations with others, but these attempts are usually awkward at best, and each failure pushes her more to her default polite but distant manner of socializing.

Some of Sahara's social anxieties stem from the fact that she is very unsure of who she is right now. She knows that she wants to go to college, but still isn't sure that she should, nor of what to do with herself after that. Though she still considers herself Muslim, she is having such trouble reconciling what she was raised to believe with the things she is currently being exposed to and the morals that she's finding for herself that she is going through a major crisis of faith. Her relationship with her mother is strained, and she desperately misses the family she left behind, although not necessarily the life she lived with them.

Despite this constant internal turmoil, she maintains a neutral expression as much as she can. She is very strict with herself when it comes to allowing people to be effected by her burdens, emotional or otherwise. As such, she avoids asking for help unless it is absolutely necessary, which it rarely is. Sahara's strong observational skills, analytical mind, and particularly her patience can best most problems that come her way.

That patience is objectively her best quality. Though her fumbling attempts at conversation lead many to believe that Sahara is a nervous person in general, that usually isn't the case. Her patience carries her through trouble and strife, and allows her to keep a calm head through it. It allows her to negotiate conflict without clouded judgement, and helps to make her an excellent nurturer; if she can get past her initial anxiety with somebody, she has a tendency to want to look after them, regardless of age. Were she more confident and social, she'd likely play a caring and protective 'older sister' role for her peers. As it is, she still makes an excellent person to vent to, shoulder to cry on, and source of impartial advice.

Her known interests include science, reading, cooking, and drawing.

Brief Biography:
Sahara and her mother, Fatemeh Housseini, arrived in Hope three years ago; they moved into a one room apartment near the center of town, where they still reside. Fatemeh found employment with the local newspaper as a photographer and journalist. Though she proved to be a very friendly, sociable woman, she shared very little about their lives before the move. Sahara enrolled as a sophmore at the local high school approximately two months after their arrival, and was something of an oddity. She wore a hijab -for the first few weeks, after which most people assumed she stopped wearing it to avoid being picked on- and spoke only short, one and two word sentences, with a thick Arabic accent. Many people thought that she simply didn't know much english, but those who approached her privately and patiently found that she could speak the language just fine. Being put on the spot around groups of strangers just made her nervous.

All through high school she kept to herself, generally only socializing when needed for group projects, or when people were very insistent in wanting to speak with her. Her reputation was that of a girl who was quiet but polite, smart -particularly in the life sciences- but not a genius, and overall forgettable when her ancestry and religion are no longer of interest. She shared very little of her past even with those who tried their hardest to learn about her; the most that anyone could gleam is that she lived in Saudi Arabia when she was younger, with her grandparents and father. Now graduated, she is taking a 'gap year' to work and earn money, with the hopes of attending college next fall and pursuing a degree in environmental science.

Talent:
An avid nature lover, Sahara frequently sketches the subjects of her studies. The word 'sketch' is used because her talent lies specifically in making what most would consider the first or second step towards a work, a shaded pencil drawing of the subject, usually with guidelines still very visible. She's never really attempted to go beyond that because she doesn't see the reason to; most of her sketching is done specifically for notes on particular species of plants or animals, not towards any real artistic ends. Her pictures are extremely accurate in their detail and, while there are people who find her skill in this regard impressive, that is all she can do. Any attempt at stylization of her subject usually just ends up looking odd.

Number: 4
Virtue: Patience

Name: September Lawless (Previously Lin)
Age: 17
Gender: Female

Appearance:
She is considered a short girl, 5’2, with waist-length, dark brown hair. Her hair is generally straight, parted through the middle-right of her crown, and bangs on both sides of her face go a few inches lower than her shoulders. Her hair is roughly cut, as if with a dull knife, sort of shaggy around the edges, while still having a healthy sheen to it. Through her bangs, on the left side is a navy-blue stripe. The tips of her hair are coloured a rich, royal indigo, and there are inky black streaks through the rest of her hair. She’s careful to maintain these colours as often as she can. Her eyes are large and almond - shaped, quite hazel. She's vaguely bi-eyed, as her left eye is a darker shade of brown, while her right eye has a greener tint to it.

Her favourite outfit, usually worn while exploring or just lounging, is a flowly black veil-like jacket over a black, skintight t-shirt and black shorts, as well as black socks with no shoes. Though for school, nothing can go wrong with a pair of loose-fitting cargo shorts, graphic tee, and sneakers. Her figure is petite, very petite, with no curves but a bit around the hips and thighs. She has full lips and accentuated cheekbones, as well as a slightly defined jawline. Her Chinese heritage shows only slightly through her skin tone and eye shape, though she is most commonly mistaken for being Malaysian, Thai, Korean, and even Hawaiian.

September tries her best to always have a backpack with her. Her black backpack with blue zippers, actually. Even if she has nothing to carry she will bring the backpack along with her, "just in case," she says. Usually though, it contains a notebook, a pencil case, a very long black ribbon as a flashy hairtie (she’s seen too many Disney movies), and perhaps some Cliff bars. The pack clips in front of her chest and around her waist, making for practically unhindered movement.

Personality:
September was orphaned early in her life, leaving her with little to no memory of her birth parents. She constantly feels bitter about this, as she feels her deceased parents deserve a child that can at least remember them. No, all September can remember is a gunshot, a scream… And perhaps a smile from her father, minutes before the was left alone. Somehow, this seems to be the very root of many things she does; her determination to become a traceur no matter how many boys scoffed, her almost fierce curiosity to learn everything about anything, and her powerful instinct to fight the fact that she may never remember her parents.

September is someone most people ignore at first, really. Despite how small she is, people can say that she's "intimidating." She doesn't talk much, and simply watches as the day goes by, absorbing in everything she sees and hears. On the outside, she seems cold and uncaring, almost spiteful.

On the inside, she's really the opposite of what she seems. People close to her describe it as a radiating field of calm warmth, while also having a hilarious darkly sarcastic side to her. She loves animals with all her heart, she loves reading, she loves writing, and never leaves the house without her notebook and pen.

Relationship with Parent/Guardian: September knows fully well that she is adopted, and feels no ill towards her adopted parents. She doesn’t “act” spoiled though, and understands the hardship of life and life without the privileges she currently has. She considers her adopted family as more like “permanent friends” than a real “family.”

Biography:
When she was 6 her parents were mugged and murdered before her very eyes. She was adopted by an Irish-American family and stayed in the US for 2 more years before moving to her adopted parent’s house in Ireland. There she stayed for 7 more years before returning to the US for a highschool education. During her long stay in Ireland she picked up an elegant Irish accent, noticeable but not overly obvious.

As she grew she began to forget the trauma experienced and her adopted parents encouraged her to do anything but dwell on the past. This led to quite a few small hobbies - horseback riding, knitting, reading, and the ever-popular tree climbing. Something that she always did, many people would call it “wasting time,” was sit still and simply watch nature at work. September discovered that humans didn’t move the same way animals did; humans were awkward. Animals could climb and jump and sprint and spin, and humans couldn’t. That is, until September discovered Youtube and came across a Parkour video. She tried to tumble and roll, which resulted in scabbed knees and worried laughs.

When she reached the age of thirteen she realized that she could not remember her birth parent’s voices. She would spend hours during bedtime thinking, thinking, tracing back as far as she could into her memory banks. Without realizing it, she began to collect information. Facts. As if, by knowing more, she would be closer to remembering her parents. Somewhere along the way she remembered how she loved to watch animals and the way she moved, and her desire to learn Parkour returned. Her adopted parents readily said yes, as long as there was always a professional around. Her new parkour abilities and her desire for information made her somewhat of a snoop. A new hobby was formed: find a hidey-hole in the school hallway or a shaded branch of a tree and simply eavesdrop. This was part curiosity and part teenage mischief. She has found a way to make her little misadventures constructive though, simply by turning her gathered “information” into a series of short stories inside of her own personal world.

Number: Six
Virtue: Humility

Name: Tyson Hallam
Age: 19
Gender: Male

Appearance:A brown pony-tail sprouts from the back of Tyson's head, its wiry nature complimenting a full, less-tamed beard. The head-hair flows below shoulder length in the rare times it's left undone, and the beard is two inches at the longest. Green eyes peek between the dark circles of his face, freckles veering away from this darker territory on his skin. As for skin tone, his own shows some genetic ambiguity, somewhere vaguely within the region of 'caucasian', but tanned overall.

Tyson's body is free of fat to a possibly-unhealthy extent, and the muscle he has is compact, so his general appearance is almost bone-thin. Conversely, his frame is wide, and not especially tall.

Tyson doesn't, at this stage of his life, have much in the way of clothing. His one set of is a quite-filthy pair of jeans, once-white t-shirt, and a thick, black coat, plus sturdy but used boots. He keeps a length of bright yellow rope around his waist, where a belt might otherwise go. The ostensible cleanliness of the rope proves a stark contrast with the rest of his gear.

Personality: These days, Tyson avoids any sort of serious relations with people, as a way of life. He wanders, helps anyone who seems like they need it, but keeps his hands clean of responsibilities and obligations.

Tyson honestly tries to see everyone objectively, and not to judge them based on any perceived faults, but is not especially good at assessing his own issues, preferring instead to try and escape them, and not let them accumulate. Tyson takes this approach to virtually his entire life, and a large part of his decision-making about who to help is usually based on how neatly the problem can be considered resolved. The more time an issue will take, the more he would need to be invested in a particular area and group of people.

At the same time, Tyson doesn't keep people he interacts with at a distance, his basic assumption being that distance will manifest when he moves on and wanders elsewhere.

Brief Biography: Tyson's early life didn't involve much movement. He lived in the same place his father had, and various ancestors for two or three centuries previously. As a child, this was hardly a concern, apart from a vague sense of comfort. The woods he lived in were more pressing, and he explored what he was allowed to with his dogs, who kept him more company than humans. Tyson's parents kept him away from society for the most part, in an effort to give him a better childhood than their own lackluster ones.

When the boy did make friends, he did so with ease and enthusiasm, happy to have more people to talk to about running, swimming, climbing trees, and playing games. This lasted until he moved from his quite-small elementary school to the massive local middle school, which accounted for five towns. Suddenly, Tyson's efforts to be pleasant and cheerful for everyone were spread among far too many people, and it began to wear on him.

As years passed, the woods he lived in disappeared, making way for new houses, and even a small general store, eventually. This increased the social pressure Tyson felt, and made his private space smaller and smaller, limited to his house, and the more secure rooms within. Tyson lost his grasp on his friends, so casually associated with before, as they sought more meaningful relationships. This did not assuage his stress though, as he now was only social out of necessity and obligation.

Eventually it came to a head, when Tyson dropped out of school. After that, his relationship with his parents crumbled, and he made little effort to retain it. Tyson retreated further into himself, not working or going back to school, and eventually not eating. He was medicated for a time, but this did not help much, and he became more silent.

Finally, when legally an adult, he left home with no preamble, and only a set of clothes, a knife, and some matches. It was in this fashion that Tyson travelled for over a year, exploring the countryside, learning first-hand about what a genuinely difficult life entailed, and sharing stories with other people on the road. It was only months in that he began to regain his youthful cheer, and spent much time on self-reflection, as well as helping anyone he came across who would ask or need it of someone so ragged as himself.

In his most recent venture, Tyson stopped a spat of drunken spousal abuse, and paid for it in blood. The prospective victim ended up calling an ambulance, while her husband drove off to wherever. The hospital he was taken to was the same as where one Dallas Robertson slept in his coma.

Talent: Tyson has a vastly underutilized knack for speech and language, and a quite-accurate phonetic memory to complement it. Mostly he's used this ability to quote and mimic with startling accuracy, but he does have a rudimentary grasp of Japanese and Spanish, and is a quick learner.

Relationship With Parents: For more than a year, Tyson has not had any relationship with his parents. While he doesn't talk about them freely, he is aware that he has been grievously unkind to the two, and is afraid to confront this. Quite secretly, Tyson likes to think that his getting out in the world again would please his parents, but he knows his father would be disgusted with his lifestyle, and his mother terrified for him.

Number: 2
Virtue: Kindness