Where my 5/10 characters from dead RPs go to be gone and forgotten
OP
OP
OP
I thought it was a good idea at the time
Name: Tangaroa 'Tanga' Lyons
Gender: Female
Age: 8
Defining Features: Broken front and back claws, burnt face and front paws from excessive training and use of water as a way to attack.
History: Born as a rare breed of Shinx in the Sevii Islands, Tanga loved her life. Her pride was proficient in using water to boost the power of their own electricity when hunting and fighting. Her pride was easily the apex predators of the island. With pollution this changed, water became less conductive, invasive species like Muks and Grimers came about, and her tribe began to die.
This happened one year ago.
Over 75% of the tribe had been killed when the ecosystem changes were at their worst. The day of Oak's extraction of the island, a lone Kabuto escaping the detritus in the water. Tanga, running along the shore, happened upon the Kabuto by chance being assaulted by a group of Trash cloaked Burmy. With the Kabuto's assistance, summoning a pillar of rain, Tanga defended the Kabuto until an assistant of Oak's happened upon the two poisoned Pokemon. They were promptly healed and shipped off to the island, the two have been inseparable ever since.
Personality: Brash, strong willed and a hard head. Tanga is the kind of Pokemon to fight a Tyranitar and pull punches to avoid hurting him too much.
Theme Song: Kirbyesque
Island paradise represent
Other: A chosen courier of Democracy.
---
Name: Perhaps once, Tanga is unsure, but has taken to calling her shelled companion 'Dee'
Gender: Tanga is also unsure, she's not really an expert on this stuff. But she thinks it may be a guy.
Age: A little over 300 million years old (lived to the rip old age of 180 pre-fossilization, has been alive post-fossilization for around 25 years)
Defining Features: Incredibly small for a kabuto it's age, presumably mute.
History: Plenty, unfortunately he hasn't divulged any part of it.
Personality: Not much of one, the Kabuto simply follows Tangaroa wherever the young shinx goes, perhaps lost in thought.
Theme Song: The Anarchist's Nightmare, the Glorious Hymn to Nikkal
Other: An ancient harbinger of Democracy and Order, rival of the envoy of Chaos and Bloody anarchy "He who posseses the mark of the helix"
Order is Progress-- Arceus is GOD.
Name: Tangaroa 'Tanga' Lyons
Gender: Female
Age: 8
Defining Features: Broken front and back claws, burnt face and front paws from excessive training and use of water as a way to attack.
History: Born as a rare breed of Shinx in the Sevii Islands, Tanga loved her life. Her pride was proficient in using water to boost the power of their own electricity when hunting and fighting. Her pride was easily the apex predators of the island. With pollution this changed, water became less conductive, invasive species like Muks and Grimers came about, and her tribe began to die.
This happened one year ago.
Over 75% of the tribe had been killed when the ecosystem changes were at their worst. The day of Oak's extraction of the island, a lone Kabuto escaping the detritus in the water. Tanga, running along the shore, happened upon the Kabuto by chance being assaulted by a group of Trash cloaked Burmy. With the Kabuto's assistance, summoning a pillar of rain, Tanga defended the Kabuto until an assistant of Oak's happened upon the two poisoned Pokemon. They were promptly healed and shipped off to the island, the two have been inseparable ever since.
Personality: Brash, strong willed and a hard head. Tanga is the kind of Pokemon to fight a Tyranitar and pull punches to avoid hurting him too much.
Theme Song: Kirbyesque
Island paradise represent
Other: A chosen courier of Democracy.
---
Name: Perhaps once, Tanga is unsure, but has taken to calling her shelled companion 'Dee'
Gender: Tanga is also unsure, she's not really an expert on this stuff. But she thinks it may be a guy.
Age: A little over 300 million years old (lived to the rip old age of 180 pre-fossilization, has been alive post-fossilization for around 25 years)
Defining Features: Incredibly small for a kabuto it's age, presumably mute.
History: Plenty, unfortunately he hasn't divulged any part of it.
Personality: Not much of one, the Kabuto simply follows Tangaroa wherever the young shinx goes, perhaps lost in thought.
Theme Song: The Anarchist's Nightmare, the Glorious Hymn to Nikkal
Other: An ancient harbinger of Democracy and Order, rival of the envoy of Chaos and Bloody anarchy "He who posseses the mark of the helix"
Order is Progress-- Arceus is GOD.
OP
This RP had the potential to be a rad Slice of Life thing-- Included both David and Eve.
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/69253-life-is/ic
Name: David Nevea-Holly
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Sexuality: Unsure
Appearance:
Personality: David is a passive and quiet individual, although capable of shedding these traits around someone he is comfortable with, his snarky outlooks generally push people away. As a result, he suffers from an extreme lack of self-confidence, has a very low opinion of himself, and generally does whatever is asked of him. His day-to-day personality is meek, insecure, and indecisive, shaped by his constant fear of being hurt by his relationships with others. Although this is the only way he can cope when dealing with people, it hinders his interactions with his family and and his schoolmates. With loneliness, comes an appreciation of introspection and activities that don't require company. David, as a result is extremely studious and well-read, even graduating a year early, although he is very socially maladjusted.
History: David's turn to mental and social isolationism began with the death of his mother at the tender age of 7. While he wasn't present for the car accident that put her into critical condition, he was by her bedside for the moment of her death, with the mere image of her on her deathbed being a regularly occurring nightmare for him. After her death, his father, already something of a drinker, retreated into full alcoholism for a number of years, getting so bad at one point that David needed to be placed under the care of his Grandmother while his father attended a full rehabilitation program. During this time, David found himself retreating into schoolwork, studying and fictional mediums of entertainment.
David, at the age of 9, legally adopted his mother's last name.
When he was 10 he was returned to life with his father, and while both were resigned around each other, there was a mutual love. It wasn't until he was 12, however, when he first showed signs of breaking out of might very well have been a clinical depression. His step-mother gave him a mother figure he could bond with, and Eve, his step-sister, a person who he could call a friend and protector, even. His already phenomenal performance has increased, to the point he was able to graduate a year early, this trip to Rio is his reward for that accomplishment.
Room Preference: 4
Relations:
Gender: Male
Age: 17
Sexuality: Unsure
Appearance:
Personality: David is a passive and quiet individual, although capable of shedding these traits around someone he is comfortable with, his snarky outlooks generally push people away. As a result, he suffers from an extreme lack of self-confidence, has a very low opinion of himself, and generally does whatever is asked of him. His day-to-day personality is meek, insecure, and indecisive, shaped by his constant fear of being hurt by his relationships with others. Although this is the only way he can cope when dealing with people, it hinders his interactions with his family and and his schoolmates. With loneliness, comes an appreciation of introspection and activities that don't require company. David, as a result is extremely studious and well-read, even graduating a year early, although he is very socially maladjusted.
History: David's turn to mental and social isolationism began with the death of his mother at the tender age of 7. While he wasn't present for the car accident that put her into critical condition, he was by her bedside for the moment of her death, with the mere image of her on her deathbed being a regularly occurring nightmare for him. After her death, his father, already something of a drinker, retreated into full alcoholism for a number of years, getting so bad at one point that David needed to be placed under the care of his Grandmother while his father attended a full rehabilitation program. During this time, David found himself retreating into schoolwork, studying and fictional mediums of entertainment.
David, at the age of 9, legally adopted his mother's last name.
When he was 10 he was returned to life with his father, and while both were resigned around each other, there was a mutual love. It wasn't until he was 12, however, when he first showed signs of breaking out of might very well have been a clinical depression. His step-mother gave him a mother figure he could bond with, and Eve, his step-sister, a person who he could call a friend and protector, even. His already phenomenal performance has increased, to the point he was able to graduate a year early, this trip to Rio is his reward for that accomplishment.
Room Preference: 4
Relations:
- Evelyn Nevea - His step-sister, he considers her a close confidant and friend. While he does appreciate her, he cant understand what she sees in him and is prone to thinking her "overbearing big sister thing" is more of an act than anything else. Depending on his mood, being around her either increases his confidence or allows him to fall even deeper into his passive attitude.
- Thomas Attison - Intellectual rival
- Hailey Rhodes - Known through Evelyn, on good terms
- Anna Calloway - Known through Evelyn
- Jenny "Jiyeon" Miller - Something of a friend, known through Evelyn, seen regularly
- Richard Miller - Something of a friend, known through Evelyn, seen regularly
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/69253-life-is/ic
OP
3 CSs, 3 different genres, same picture. Feels a little scummy-- but it is actually a really good selfie headshot tho
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/69253-life-is/ic
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/76329-oakenheim-modern-supernatural-rp/ic
Name: Evelyn 'Eve' Nevea
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Sexuality: Homo/Heteroflexible
Appearance:
Personality: Eve is the direct result of what happens when an already lazy and introspective person takes a philosophy class too seriously. An exposure to, and appreciation of Nihilism, Epicureanism, and Hedonism have greatly influenced Eve's outlook and approach to life. Her priorities have changed from those of the average late high schooler, to those concerning her own pleasure in the now. This, and her general apathy toward institutions she doesn't see as providing pleasure, led to her inevitable dropping out of school. While not particularly inspired to preform well in school, she does have several interests, including music and film, and she is a gifted conversationalist. Despite being a 'Burnout' Eve is able to discuss most anything with an intellectual fervor, ranging from world history and politics, to cartoons and which drugs go best with them.
She has a chill and laid back aura about her that seems so thick that at times her mere presence can slow down a room; while her capricious and unpredictable attitude can speed it right back up. In short, Eve is something of a cross between a beatnik, a stoner, and a hippie. Not quite a "rebel without a cause," in that she is aware of plenty of causes, she's simply too lazy and generally uninspired to do something to enact serious change.
History: Born to a French-Cuban mother and Spanish father, Eve is actually a native of the Catalonia region of Spain. She was born out of wed-lock and spent the majority of her young life not knowing what the concept of father even meant, or that she even had one. Her mother was of little means, but did all she could to provide Eve with a healthy, carefree and loving environment, greatly influencing the person Eve would become. She had no real permanence present in her life beside her mother, and as such, the two became inseparably close, as her mother went from city to city, from job to job, Eve followed going from school to school, never staying a particular location much longer than a year.
Evelyn had been old enough (at the age of 14) to know that her mother had been using online dating to substitute for her lack of a real love life, so when she received the news that they would be going to the United States to stay with the boyfriend her mother had met online she wasn't very surprised. She was surprised, however, when 3 months later they announced their marriage plans. It wasn't the change of countries that surprised her, it was the introduction of two male figures in her life, a brother and father. These changes, her general attitude, and the shift from Spanish education to American could all be considered the reason that, three years later, at the age of 17, she dropped out of High School and went the route of GED (which took her a year to get). She has a perfect relationship with her mother, is on god terms with her step-father and considers her step brother her best friend. While currently enrolled in a shitty community college, she wasn't supposed to be able to go on this trip-- it was intended as a reward for her step-brother-- but through lies told to her parents and an illicitly obtained buddy pass, she finds herself going anyway.
Room Preference: 3
Relations:
---
Gender: Female
Age: 19
Sexuality: Homo/Heteroflexible
Appearance:
Personality: Eve is the direct result of what happens when an already lazy and introspective person takes a philosophy class too seriously. An exposure to, and appreciation of Nihilism, Epicureanism, and Hedonism have greatly influenced Eve's outlook and approach to life. Her priorities have changed from those of the average late high schooler, to those concerning her own pleasure in the now. This, and her general apathy toward institutions she doesn't see as providing pleasure, led to her inevitable dropping out of school. While not particularly inspired to preform well in school, she does have several interests, including music and film, and she is a gifted conversationalist. Despite being a 'Burnout' Eve is able to discuss most anything with an intellectual fervor, ranging from world history and politics, to cartoons and which drugs go best with them.
She has a chill and laid back aura about her that seems so thick that at times her mere presence can slow down a room; while her capricious and unpredictable attitude can speed it right back up. In short, Eve is something of a cross between a beatnik, a stoner, and a hippie. Not quite a "rebel without a cause," in that she is aware of plenty of causes, she's simply too lazy and generally uninspired to do something to enact serious change.
History: Born to a French-Cuban mother and Spanish father, Eve is actually a native of the Catalonia region of Spain. She was born out of wed-lock and spent the majority of her young life not knowing what the concept of father even meant, or that she even had one. Her mother was of little means, but did all she could to provide Eve with a healthy, carefree and loving environment, greatly influencing the person Eve would become. She had no real permanence present in her life beside her mother, and as such, the two became inseparably close, as her mother went from city to city, from job to job, Eve followed going from school to school, never staying a particular location much longer than a year.
Evelyn had been old enough (at the age of 14) to know that her mother had been using online dating to substitute for her lack of a real love life, so when she received the news that they would be going to the United States to stay with the boyfriend her mother had met online she wasn't very surprised. She was surprised, however, when 3 months later they announced their marriage plans. It wasn't the change of countries that surprised her, it was the introduction of two male figures in her life, a brother and father. These changes, her general attitude, and the shift from Spanish education to American could all be considered the reason that, three years later, at the age of 17, she dropped out of High School and went the route of GED (which took her a year to get). She has a perfect relationship with her mother, is on god terms with her step-father and considers her step brother her best friend. While currently enrolled in a shitty community college, she wasn't supposed to be able to go on this trip-- it was intended as a reward for her step-brother-- but through lies told to her parents and an illicitly obtained buddy pass, she finds herself going anyway.
Room Preference: 3
Relations:
- David Nevea-Holly - Considers him to be her best friend, soul brother, and apprentice to all she knows. She sees him as much more than a mere step-brother. Being around him gives her something of a paternal confidence, although she can be rather forceful with him. Affectionately known as "Davy."
- Jenny "Jiyeon" Miller - Friend, may hold romantic feelings toward
- Richard Miller - Friend
- Hailey Rhodes - Friend/artistic fan
- Anna Calloway - Good friend
---
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/69253-life-is/ic
Name: Theresa de Podina
Approx Age Range: 36-41
Room Items:
Self Assessment: Theresa seems more than calm-- possibly content? She doesn't find herself alarmed at the loss of her memory, or at her peculiar situation in the slightest. She seems to have an easy time adapting to new and strange situations, perhaps even joking about them. She immediately noticed that she has a hard time grasping her own emotions, internalizing events and thinking critically about them come naturally, but her own feelings are something of a mystery to her. When not devoting her energy to a single task, she seems prone to distraction, external and internal, as she has already caught herself wondering about the philosophical implications of where she is several times. Physically she seems to be in good shape, having both the body and strength of an athlete-- she has the build of a free runner. Along with this, however, are also a few cramps and gray hairs, she is either already in mid-age, or just entering and simply suffers from stress. Her body has several light scars in the torso region, and there is discoloration on her feet and ankles, she also has a slight tan. Theresa has also retained some knowledge of the Spanish language.
Personal Profile (Under Development): Theresa's knowledge of Spanish and the Cuba/US pin confirms that she is of at least some Hispanic heritage, most likely Cuban. The "XO" on the back of the pin seem to indicate it was a gift, she can't tell whether it was given to her as a romantic or platonic gesture. The snow globe indicates some tie to Myrtle Beach, either as a resident, a tourist, or a mere recipient of a souvenir. If she was a resident, it would explain the watch, the model is one she immediately associates with beach joggers-- her own physical condition only furthers this theory. The tuxedo that belonged to "Ernesto" evokes feelings of regret, it is much larger than what Theresa could wear and the ample space the tuxedo accommodates for a beer belly may imply it belonged to a father/grandfather, this possibility increases the feeling of regret and grief. Looking at her face face in the teddy bear mirror makes her feel a tinge of resentment, even as she smiles, this suggests insecurity and self-doubt. Smelling the teddy bear makes her think of some vague idea of "home."
Bear: A simple brown teddy bear, possibly handmade. It is about half as big as a pillow, smells of cinnamon and chocolate, and has a small circular mirror sewn into where it's face should be.
Journal: --Barely. It's a stack of about 15 sheets of college ruled lined paper held together by a paperclip and backed by a brown schoolroom clipboard. (At least it came with a nice pen!)
Appearance:
Approx Age Range: 36-41
Room Items:
- A small copper pin with the flags of Cuba and the United States crossed over each other, "XO " is crudely carved into the back.
- A simple snow globe from Myrtle Beach, South Carolina.
- A bright yellow digital watch-- probably off by several hours. It seems to have very sophisticated timer and lap functions, it is capable of storing several previous lap times, three are currently saved (0:15:12, 0:21:56, 0:23:27).
- A white tuxedo shirt for men, it has 4 holes with edges that appear burned. A tag on the inside has the name "Ernesto" scrawled lightly and, upon closer inspection seems to have been very recently washed.
Self Assessment: Theresa seems more than calm-- possibly content? She doesn't find herself alarmed at the loss of her memory, or at her peculiar situation in the slightest. She seems to have an easy time adapting to new and strange situations, perhaps even joking about them. She immediately noticed that she has a hard time grasping her own emotions, internalizing events and thinking critically about them come naturally, but her own feelings are something of a mystery to her. When not devoting her energy to a single task, she seems prone to distraction, external and internal, as she has already caught herself wondering about the philosophical implications of where she is several times. Physically she seems to be in good shape, having both the body and strength of an athlete-- she has the build of a free runner. Along with this, however, are also a few cramps and gray hairs, she is either already in mid-age, or just entering and simply suffers from stress. Her body has several light scars in the torso region, and there is discoloration on her feet and ankles, she also has a slight tan. Theresa has also retained some knowledge of the Spanish language.
Personal Profile (Under Development): Theresa's knowledge of Spanish and the Cuba/US pin confirms that she is of at least some Hispanic heritage, most likely Cuban. The "XO" on the back of the pin seem to indicate it was a gift, she can't tell whether it was given to her as a romantic or platonic gesture. The snow globe indicates some tie to Myrtle Beach, either as a resident, a tourist, or a mere recipient of a souvenir. If she was a resident, it would explain the watch, the model is one she immediately associates with beach joggers-- her own physical condition only furthers this theory. The tuxedo that belonged to "Ernesto" evokes feelings of regret, it is much larger than what Theresa could wear and the ample space the tuxedo accommodates for a beer belly may imply it belonged to a father/grandfather, this possibility increases the feeling of regret and grief. Looking at her face face in the teddy bear mirror makes her feel a tinge of resentment, even as she smiles, this suggests insecurity and self-doubt. Smelling the teddy bear makes her think of some vague idea of "home."
Bear: A simple brown teddy bear, possibly handmade. It is about half as big as a pillow, smells of cinnamon and chocolate, and has a small circular mirror sewn into where it's face should be.
Journal: --Barely. It's a stack of about 15 sheets of college ruled lined paper held together by a paperclip and backed by a brown schoolroom clipboard. (At least it came with a nice pen!)
Appearance:
Name: Mary Janicot
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Personality: While not quite a wallflower, Mary is generally a quiet and calm individual. The emotions she shows are resigned, her smiles are slight, and her frowns more just shrugs than anything. Over the years she has become the type of student that sits in the back of the class and listens to music, when she socializes, she tends to blend in to the group, only really talking to those that can keep her interested. Most of her personal relationships fail because of this. People who spend enough time around her say that, at times, she can seem a little 'off' or 'depressed,' in reality; Mary's building apathy toward life stems from her perceived lack of control over the events in her life.
With a sarcastic sense of humor and a penchant for listening to music over conversation. She might make seem standoffish to any passerby. Mary does seek companionship, just on her own terms. If one can't interest her, then she shrugs and cuts her losses; if they can, however, they'll receive a talkative friend, a stereotypical slacker, obsessed with obscure bands, drugs, flowers, and death.
Appearance: Mary stands tall at 5'7'' with an average, if not slightly well rounded, figure. She has short black hair framing kind brown eyes and a light olive complexion. Her expressions tend to remain neutral, with her most powerful smile being a slight smirk. Her outfits tend to be basic and earth colored, either a dark tank-top or a T-shirt and skinny jeans or a skirt. She is rarely seen without her ear buds or headphones.
Tether: Mary believes she is a 'natural,' having seen the weird inner-workings of the universe most people can't perceive for as long as she can remember. While in the regard that she was born with it, she isn't wrong, technically, Mary doesn't naturally have the ability. Mary's mother, Diana, was touched by a gestalt Wicca entity, the 'Mother Goddess' and her father, who left before she was born, was likewise touched by the Mother Goddess' equal and opposite entity, the 'Horned God.'
Mary's body serves as a battleground of sorts for these two spiritual entities, each invading her body, and influencing events in her life. The Mother Goddess and the Horned God, ironically, both influencing her life allows Mary to maintain sentience and autonomy of her own actions, but the conditions around her, within their control, are constantly shifting. Over the years this has turned Mary into a woman who feels content to just glide through life, unaware that while she does, two syncretic spiritual deities are vying for her soul.
Ability: None. (May develop later)
Talents:
Recent history: Diana Janicot settled into Oakenheim soon after Mary was born, figuring it would be the perfect small town for a single mother to raise a child. That child, of course, was Mary. She was never sad or particularly traumatized, it just seemed that for Mary, each year of her life dimmed her enthusiasm, but only slightly.
She always enjoyed music and nature's beauty, and as she grew older, these two things became constants in her life. While not in school the young girl would often find herself in the Oakenheim Cemetery, enjoying the quiet of the place, as well as it's flowers. As she grew the Oakenheim Cemetery would become her favorite place to hang out, it felt like the only place in the world she held some semblance of control.
When she entered high school Mary began following local Oakenheim acts around as a groupie, often finding herself in relationships with women much older than her. This is also how she began her recreational drug use, in her own words, it; "keeps those dreams away." As opposed to finding a dealer, Mary began devoting her free time to studying psychoactive flora, her hobby has given her a few close brushes with the law.
Gender: Female
Age: 17
Personality: While not quite a wallflower, Mary is generally a quiet and calm individual. The emotions she shows are resigned, her smiles are slight, and her frowns more just shrugs than anything. Over the years she has become the type of student that sits in the back of the class and listens to music, when she socializes, she tends to blend in to the group, only really talking to those that can keep her interested. Most of her personal relationships fail because of this. People who spend enough time around her say that, at times, she can seem a little 'off' or 'depressed,' in reality; Mary's building apathy toward life stems from her perceived lack of control over the events in her life.
With a sarcastic sense of humor and a penchant for listening to music over conversation. She might make seem standoffish to any passerby. Mary does seek companionship, just on her own terms. If one can't interest her, then she shrugs and cuts her losses; if they can, however, they'll receive a talkative friend, a stereotypical slacker, obsessed with obscure bands, drugs, flowers, and death.
Appearance: Mary stands tall at 5'7'' with an average, if not slightly well rounded, figure. She has short black hair framing kind brown eyes and a light olive complexion. Her expressions tend to remain neutral, with her most powerful smile being a slight smirk. Her outfits tend to be basic and earth colored, either a dark tank-top or a T-shirt and skinny jeans or a skirt. She is rarely seen without her ear buds or headphones.
Tether: Mary believes she is a 'natural,' having seen the weird inner-workings of the universe most people can't perceive for as long as she can remember. While in the regard that she was born with it, she isn't wrong, technically, Mary doesn't naturally have the ability. Mary's mother, Diana, was touched by a gestalt Wicca entity, the 'Mother Goddess' and her father, who left before she was born, was likewise touched by the Mother Goddess' equal and opposite entity, the 'Horned God.'
Mary's body serves as a battleground of sorts for these two spiritual entities, each invading her body, and influencing events in her life. The Mother Goddess and the Horned God, ironically, both influencing her life allows Mary to maintain sentience and autonomy of her own actions, but the conditions around her, within their control, are constantly shifting. Over the years this has turned Mary into a woman who feels content to just glide through life, unaware that while she does, two syncretic spiritual deities are vying for her soul.
Ability: None. (May develop later)
Talents:
- Sketching: Years spent drawing the flowers growing in the Oakenheim Cemetery have given Mary a talent for drawing quick, accurate sketches.
- Knowledge of psychoactive botany and mycology: Although not a professional botanist or mycologist, Mary has researched and has a working knowledge of the psychoactive flora of Oakenheim.
- Artistic Echoic Memory: As opposed to photographic memory, Mary, over the years, has developed a talent for remembering and replaying soundbytes in her head. While she only tends to use this for listening to music without her headphones, theoretically, she could use this type of memory to recall gossip and small bits of information heard.
Recent history: Diana Janicot settled into Oakenheim soon after Mary was born, figuring it would be the perfect small town for a single mother to raise a child. That child, of course, was Mary. She was never sad or particularly traumatized, it just seemed that for Mary, each year of her life dimmed her enthusiasm, but only slightly.
She always enjoyed music and nature's beauty, and as she grew older, these two things became constants in her life. While not in school the young girl would often find herself in the Oakenheim Cemetery, enjoying the quiet of the place, as well as it's flowers. As she grew the Oakenheim Cemetery would become her favorite place to hang out, it felt like the only place in the world she held some semblance of control.
When she entered high school Mary began following local Oakenheim acts around as a groupie, often finding herself in relationships with women much older than her. This is also how she began her recreational drug use, in her own words, it; "keeps those dreams away." As opposed to finding a dealer, Mary began devoting her free time to studying psychoactive flora, her hobby has given her a few close brushes with the law.
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/76329-oakenheim-modern-supernatural-rp/ic
OP
Ran a thieves guild and her opening scene was literally smut, p fun
Name: Delphi Aledove
Sex: Female
Age: 26
Role: Day Master
Personality: Delphi is shrewd and sneaky, with the one thing she truly believes in being the power of gold. She believes that all problems and conflicts can be solved through gold, either directly or indirectly, and if a person can't be bought, they can certainly be rented. In the eyes of Delphi, it doesn't matter how you came across the gold, be it through a hard days of work or quick mugging, you owe it to yourself and the concept of the free market to use that gold as a tool to further yourself in society.
Delphi fit right in as Day Master of the rouges guild, striking the right deals out of the watchful eye of the Magnificent One-- striking the right deals under His watchful eye, buying and selling outside of the law, bribes, funneling gold, smuggling, the management of brothels, and knowing when to hire the right muscle for when things get tight-- it all came naturally to Delphi. Her character was built in observing the transactions of whores and their clients, the filthy backroom deals, and the manipulation you could get away with in broad daylight for the right price.
She has become the type of person who genuinely sees most human life as beneath the money they can earn her or what she can pay them to do, and all of her actions reflect this. Delphi is calculating, but to a fault, and revels in the excess and and power that the path she has taken in life has led her to.
For all that she can get done with gold coins and credit, she suffers a weakness in her desire for material wealth. Simply put, she doesn't appear to have an altruistic bone in her body. She has come to view money as more than a human bartering tool, but as a god in it's own right, this has led to her mere presence giving off an aura of avarice.
Delphi is assured in her abilities, to the degree of a megalomaniac. The law, in her eyes, is something she isn't just above, but separated from completely. She believes that as long as you think, think of contingencies and back-up plans and all possible variables, and of course with enough gold, you can simply ignore the law altogether.
She's young and cocky, with the excessive money and power her role grants her and while occasionally reckless due to overestimation of what loyalties can be bought, however she isn't stupid, and her desire for self-preservation generally overrides her own tremendous greed.
History: Delphi was born into the world as the bastard daughter of an underaged whore with a father from the upper class. Lacking a formal education, Delphi learned from experience granted to her as a ward of the brothel, her mother worked herself halfway to death to make enough gold to keep Delphi out of the hands of those who would like to see the young girl turned to prostitution, and so young Delphi scarcely spent time with the woman who had effectively saved her life.
The day she could hold a broom, Delphi was working. The skills she gained, however, were not those of a maid, but more akin to those of a spy, or a thief, she learned to stay quiet as she made her rounds, to keep the secrets one could learn from what a man, or woman, would say when they thought they were alone with a whore to herself, to hide coins strewn about when clothes were torn off in places they would clink.
Soon after this, she learned giving the right information to the right people could earn her even more gold, more than this though, it could improve her standing in the world. She was enlisted as the apprentice of the brothel owner when she proved her skill to him, she found she could fudge numbers on the books to line her own pockets if she was smart about it.
When she was 14, Delphi had begun playing the game of earning her own money as she slowly started to take the duties of brothel owner from the true owner. At 16, Delphi was making more than the owner of the brothel, and she was able to pay for all of her mother's expenses, effectively allowing the woman to retire. By 18, Delphi was able to take complete control of the brothel after being named it's successor and having him killed in quiet. And at the age of 20, she had the attention of the old Day Master, a frequent regular of the brothel. Under his tutelage, Delphi expanded her influence not only to the brothels of the city, but any place even slightly outside of the view of the Magnificent One's spies, illicit gambling locations, pubs, even general product stores and black smiths found themselves paying the Rouge's Guild with Delphi under the Day Master's direction.
It was only natural then, that a few years ago, when the aging Day Master died of a mysterious sexual disease after visiting one of Delphi's brothels, that it was her to take now emptied position.
Weapon of choice: Javelin Spear, typically left in a case and viewed as something more of a work of art than a practical weapon. She also possesses a very foreign looking curved, jewel encrusted dagger which also has more aesthetic value than practical value and has razors sewn into the sleeves of most of her clothes, allowing her to cut with swift striking motions if the need arises.
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/2361311
Name: Delphi Aledove
Sex: Female
Age: 26
Role: Day Master
Personality: Delphi is shrewd and sneaky, with the one thing she truly believes in being the power of gold. She believes that all problems and conflicts can be solved through gold, either directly or indirectly, and if a person can't be bought, they can certainly be rented. In the eyes of Delphi, it doesn't matter how you came across the gold, be it through a hard days of work or quick mugging, you owe it to yourself and the concept of the free market to use that gold as a tool to further yourself in society.
Delphi fit right in as Day Master of the rouges guild, striking the right deals out of the watchful eye of the Magnificent One-- striking the right deals under His watchful eye, buying and selling outside of the law, bribes, funneling gold, smuggling, the management of brothels, and knowing when to hire the right muscle for when things get tight-- it all came naturally to Delphi. Her character was built in observing the transactions of whores and their clients, the filthy backroom deals, and the manipulation you could get away with in broad daylight for the right price.
She has become the type of person who genuinely sees most human life as beneath the money they can earn her or what she can pay them to do, and all of her actions reflect this. Delphi is calculating, but to a fault, and revels in the excess and and power that the path she has taken in life has led her to.
For all that she can get done with gold coins and credit, she suffers a weakness in her desire for material wealth. Simply put, she doesn't appear to have an altruistic bone in her body. She has come to view money as more than a human bartering tool, but as a god in it's own right, this has led to her mere presence giving off an aura of avarice.
Delphi is assured in her abilities, to the degree of a megalomaniac. The law, in her eyes, is something she isn't just above, but separated from completely. She believes that as long as you think, think of contingencies and back-up plans and all possible variables, and of course with enough gold, you can simply ignore the law altogether.
She's young and cocky, with the excessive money and power her role grants her and while occasionally reckless due to overestimation of what loyalties can be bought, however she isn't stupid, and her desire for self-preservation generally overrides her own tremendous greed.
History: Delphi was born into the world as the bastard daughter of an underaged whore with a father from the upper class. Lacking a formal education, Delphi learned from experience granted to her as a ward of the brothel, her mother worked herself halfway to death to make enough gold to keep Delphi out of the hands of those who would like to see the young girl turned to prostitution, and so young Delphi scarcely spent time with the woman who had effectively saved her life.
The day she could hold a broom, Delphi was working. The skills she gained, however, were not those of a maid, but more akin to those of a spy, or a thief, she learned to stay quiet as she made her rounds, to keep the secrets one could learn from what a man, or woman, would say when they thought they were alone with a whore to herself, to hide coins strewn about when clothes were torn off in places they would clink.
Soon after this, she learned giving the right information to the right people could earn her even more gold, more than this though, it could improve her standing in the world. She was enlisted as the apprentice of the brothel owner when she proved her skill to him, she found she could fudge numbers on the books to line her own pockets if she was smart about it.
When she was 14, Delphi had begun playing the game of earning her own money as she slowly started to take the duties of brothel owner from the true owner. At 16, Delphi was making more than the owner of the brothel, and she was able to pay for all of her mother's expenses, effectively allowing the woman to retire. By 18, Delphi was able to take complete control of the brothel after being named it's successor and having him killed in quiet. And at the age of 20, she had the attention of the old Day Master, a frequent regular of the brothel. Under his tutelage, Delphi expanded her influence not only to the brothels of the city, but any place even slightly outside of the view of the Magnificent One's spies, illicit gambling locations, pubs, even general product stores and black smiths found themselves paying the Rouge's Guild with Delphi under the Day Master's direction.
It was only natural then, that a few years ago, when the aging Day Master died of a mysterious sexual disease after visiting one of Delphi's brothels, that it was her to take now emptied position.
Weapon of choice: Javelin Spear, typically left in a case and viewed as something more of a work of art than a practical weapon. She also possesses a very foreign looking curved, jewel encrusted dagger which also has more aesthetic value than practical value and has razors sewn into the sleeves of most of her clothes, allowing her to cut with swift striking motions if the need arises.
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/posts/2361311
OP
>implying Sayuri is family name
Name: Kiiro Sayuri
Gender: M
Age: 17
Clubs/Occupation: On and off member of the school photography club and school newspaper, volunteers at a local animal rescue shelter, works part-time as a concierge and receptionist at his uncle's filling station/motel.
Personality: Kiiro takes life, and it's challenges, as they come. At a passing glance he appears to be nothing more than a leaf on the wind, nonchalantly going about about everything-- day by day activities and major life events-- with an extremely free spirited attitude. Formerly a flower child, these aspects of his past show in his strategic avoidance of conflict, commitment, and any other stressor presented to him. Certainly, this obvious airy persona is a part of who Kiiro is, but it's not mindless. He is an individual almost completely consumed by memories of his past and thoughts of the present and future, always considering possibilities. Some would call him a "space cadet," he prefers aloof, with a good, albeit erratic, work ethic.
History: Until about 9 years ago, Kiiro's life was perfect. He lived with a single mother who had been entirely dedicated to the "free love" and "counter-culture" movement's of the 70s, she was the kind of hippie other hippies strive to be, and despite making questionable (and occasionally downright illegal) decisions as a parent, the two were perfect for each other. They moved from hospices and communes in Japan as years passed, Kiiro's formative education consisted primarily of things he picked up with his mother in their travels, he didn't completely understand basic mathematical concepts or 'get' how to read until he was 10, but by the time he was 5 he could live off the land like a pro and already understood complex animal, plant and fungi identification.
In all honesty, with some of the places they went and some of the things his mother did, they were lucky to have ever been together.
One day, when he was 8, that luck ran out.
What were basically hundreds of minor offenses like loitering, trespassing and shoplifting, coupled with more major drug related and "child abuse" offenses all came down on Kiiro's mother. Early in the morning, before the young boy could even process what was going on, she was taken away. His mother crying in the back of the police cruiser, saying how much she loved him, was the last time he saw her.
With this, Kiiro became a ward of the system. He was thrown from relative to relative, until at the age of 9 he found a fit with one of his uncles. The brother of a father who had died before his child could be born. Uncle Ozo the bozo Kiiro would call him, the man was short, stout and nearly hairless, he was a strict guardian, whose conservative ideals often clashed with what Kiiro had come to accept about life as he grew up. Kiiro still doesn't entirely agree with the man, but an uneasy love has formed between child and guardian. Ozo means well, he believes family is all there is and that a man should have a good work ethic, certainly, it's almost entirely due to Ozo's guidance that Kiiro was able to catch up in school-- and his ability to continue doing well while being a somewhat active member of two clubs, a regular volunteer, maintain his familial duties at the Sayuri motel and gas station and find time for friends... or cloud staring.
Appearance:
Weapon: Attack dog
Persona:
~Name: Hel
~Arcana: Fortune
~Drain: -
~Weak: Almighty, Fire
~Null: Ice
~Reflect: -
~Resist: Light, Dark
~Skills: Megido, Dia, Mudoon, Hamaon
Gender: M
Age: 17
Clubs/Occupation: On and off member of the school photography club and school newspaper, volunteers at a local animal rescue shelter, works part-time as a concierge and receptionist at his uncle's filling station/motel.
Personality: Kiiro takes life, and it's challenges, as they come. At a passing glance he appears to be nothing more than a leaf on the wind, nonchalantly going about about everything-- day by day activities and major life events-- with an extremely free spirited attitude. Formerly a flower child, these aspects of his past show in his strategic avoidance of conflict, commitment, and any other stressor presented to him. Certainly, this obvious airy persona is a part of who Kiiro is, but it's not mindless. He is an individual almost completely consumed by memories of his past and thoughts of the present and future, always considering possibilities. Some would call him a "space cadet," he prefers aloof, with a good, albeit erratic, work ethic.
History: Until about 9 years ago, Kiiro's life was perfect. He lived with a single mother who had been entirely dedicated to the "free love" and "counter-culture" movement's of the 70s, she was the kind of hippie other hippies strive to be, and despite making questionable (and occasionally downright illegal) decisions as a parent, the two were perfect for each other. They moved from hospices and communes in Japan as years passed, Kiiro's formative education consisted primarily of things he picked up with his mother in their travels, he didn't completely understand basic mathematical concepts or 'get' how to read until he was 10, but by the time he was 5 he could live off the land like a pro and already understood complex animal, plant and fungi identification.
In all honesty, with some of the places they went and some of the things his mother did, they were lucky to have ever been together.
One day, when he was 8, that luck ran out.
What were basically hundreds of minor offenses like loitering, trespassing and shoplifting, coupled with more major drug related and "child abuse" offenses all came down on Kiiro's mother. Early in the morning, before the young boy could even process what was going on, she was taken away. His mother crying in the back of the police cruiser, saying how much she loved him, was the last time he saw her.
With this, Kiiro became a ward of the system. He was thrown from relative to relative, until at the age of 9 he found a fit with one of his uncles. The brother of a father who had died before his child could be born. Uncle Ozo the bozo Kiiro would call him, the man was short, stout and nearly hairless, he was a strict guardian, whose conservative ideals often clashed with what Kiiro had come to accept about life as he grew up. Kiiro still doesn't entirely agree with the man, but an uneasy love has formed between child and guardian. Ozo means well, he believes family is all there is and that a man should have a good work ethic, certainly, it's almost entirely due to Ozo's guidance that Kiiro was able to catch up in school-- and his ability to continue doing well while being a somewhat active member of two clubs, a regular volunteer, maintain his familial duties at the Sayuri motel and gas station and find time for friends... or cloud staring.
Appearance:
Weapon: Attack dog
Persona:
~Name: Hel
~Arcana: Fortune
~Drain: -
~Weak: Almighty, Fire
~Null: Ice
~Reflect: -
~Resist: Light, Dark
~Skills: Megido, Dia, Mudoon, Hamaon
OP
The consort of a loli with zombie powers and an appreciation of urban contemporary culture
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/46980-rising-a-new-age-of-gods/ic
Name: Eric Dumile
Gender: M
Age: Appears as a somewhat tall 12-15 yr old, is actually 23 with a 24th birthday coming in the near future
Personality: Eric is an opinionated free spirit, but his time "in the real world" trying to get a degree, and simply trying to survive, have numbed this with a little nihilism. He questions whether there is actually an objective good or evil, and weather human life actually has any innate value. He holds an appreciation for music, with a special place in his heart for hip hop, the music of gods, philosophy, and all things of the internet and Netflix. He regards "where he grew up" 4chan, with special feelings, he doesn't try to hide the fact that unhealthy amounts of time in his youth and in the present influence who he is. He views capitalism as a game he intends to stop, despite the fact that he views the best way to win is simply not to play. He has never held a legitimate job longer than a week in his life. He is listening to Immortal Technique right now.
History: He was raised middle class, but the day he turned 18, his parents kicked him out. His life has been stints of homelessness, college and crime since then. College was never going to be Eric's style, his teachers in High school had seen this. But he still wished to go, that's what he'd been told was right. Go to school, go to college, get a job, have kids, get a house and a car, settle down, pay your taxes and die. He wasn't stupid, but that didn't change the fact that after a time, he simply didn't want to do the things. The laziness and apathy of young adulthood had stricken him. This was, of course, strengthened by a love for shrooms and weed. Crime paid off, for a time, he even tried his hand at dealing for a stint. But again and again, he couldn't keep up with maintaining his level of comfort as well as college costs, and again and again, he was forced to drop out. He had become extremely disillusioned, tired of all the pettiness and consumerism, and was just ready to give up and begin a life of wandering homelessness. Then he saw the light, while listening to some MF DOOM.
Eric wants to ask you something, if an apparition of a God devoted to everything you loved appeared to you, wouldn't you follow it? Eric has. It led him to a fucking Morgue.
God They Serve: Kirsten: God of Death, or Whatever, Probably
Abilities:
Equipment:
Gender: M
Age: Appears as a somewhat tall 12-15 yr old, is actually 23 with a 24th birthday coming in the near future
Personality: Eric is an opinionated free spirit, but his time "in the real world" trying to get a degree, and simply trying to survive, have numbed this with a little nihilism. He questions whether there is actually an objective good or evil, and weather human life actually has any innate value. He holds an appreciation for music, with a special place in his heart for hip hop, the music of gods, philosophy, and all things of the internet and Netflix. He regards "where he grew up" 4chan, with special feelings, he doesn't try to hide the fact that unhealthy amounts of time in his youth and in the present influence who he is. He views capitalism as a game he intends to stop, despite the fact that he views the best way to win is simply not to play. He has never held a legitimate job longer than a week in his life. He is listening to Immortal Technique right now.
History: He was raised middle class, but the day he turned 18, his parents kicked him out. His life has been stints of homelessness, college and crime since then. College was never going to be Eric's style, his teachers in High school had seen this. But he still wished to go, that's what he'd been told was right. Go to school, go to college, get a job, have kids, get a house and a car, settle down, pay your taxes and die. He wasn't stupid, but that didn't change the fact that after a time, he simply didn't want to do the things. The laziness and apathy of young adulthood had stricken him. This was, of course, strengthened by a love for shrooms and weed. Crime paid off, for a time, he even tried his hand at dealing for a stint. But again and again, he couldn't keep up with maintaining his level of comfort as well as college costs, and again and again, he was forced to drop out. He had become extremely disillusioned, tired of all the pettiness and consumerism, and was just ready to give up and begin a life of wandering homelessness. Then he saw the light, while listening to some MF DOOM.
Eric wants to ask you something, if an apparition of a God devoted to everything you loved appeared to you, wouldn't you follow it? Eric has. It led him to a fucking Morgue.
God They Serve: Kirsten: God of Death, or Whatever, Probably
Abilities:
- Due to what appears to have been a complete lack of any development of the mature traits that typically come with puberty, Eric looks 12. This means he still gets free meals at restaurants, can usually just take public transit for free, and generally do things kids typically get away with without the fear of punishment as an adult. The downside is that this makes doing "adult" things almost impossible.
- To compensate for this, Eric has become an expert at shoplifting, petty thievery, grand larceny, grand theft auto, and racking up incredible credit debts in the names of other people.
- He's poor and unmotivated, he's gone, and dropped out of college three times now. With no living family or friends, and a college debt that would impress most-- he truly has nothing left to lose. This had made him, over time, willing to take crazy risks for little gain. He has become good under pressure normally presented by risks
Equipment:
- (1) Messenger bag (For keeping most of his shit in)
- (4) Rolling papers (no weed)
- (1) iPhone w/ headphones(no plan, relies on surrounding wifi)
- (1) "A-town" snapback (Quick, simple, disguise. Also rep your city)
- (2) Switchblades w/ frames that look like pens (Simple instruments for attacking, people don't typically think pens can become knives)
- (1) .44 Revolver w/ full ammo (Gotta keep your heat/gat in the city)
- (3) Books (For shit to do on the train/bus)
- (1) Wallet (Why DOES he have this? It's not like he ever actually has any money)
- (1) Makeup kit (When looking like a kid isn't a good enough disguise; cross dress!)
- (1) Bike chain w/ lock (Long, reinforced steel chain for his bike-- what? You though he could afford a car? The lock and chain combo are also good for knocking motherfuckers up)
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/46980-rising-a-new-age-of-gods/ic
OP
mediocre biblical characters
Name: Caritas
Appeared Age: 21
Role: Angel/Charity
Abilities: N/A
Personality: To use the word 'nice' to describe Caritas is such an understatement, so much so that some would call it a sin, but Charitas would forgive you. The androgynous angel had fully adopted a demeanor so simple and kind that even Christ himself viewed the charity the angel has displayed as admirable. Caritas has a very childlike demeanor and optimism in regards to interaction with the world.
Bio: Caritas, unlike Corbel, is not an angel descended from the Divine Being, but instead is an innocent soul ascended to the rank after experiencing a mortal death.
Caritas was born with earthly name of Tyler Junius in Louisiana several decades ago. His human life was one filled with hardship, his family was poor, his mother was a drug addict, and his father an abusive narcissist-- he was not baptized, as his father was such a pagan that he worshiped himself. A young Tyler was not introduced to Christ until his 8th year on earth, when a Christian relative gifted him with a children's bible. It was through this single act of kindness and charity that, on Tyler's 9th year on earth, when he perished in a house set ablaze by his father's arrogance, that they young boy's soul was saved.
The decades since have seen Tyler cast aside his human name and accept Caritas, a name fitting the angelic qualities of one who was saved through charity and kindness, and now serves as a guardian angel to those who might be known to God through their own selfless acts. Urania, an angel representing the charity of Holy Spirit, sent Caritas to the party, to find and save any souls who might open their hearts to God through the altruism in their hearts.
Name: James Smith
Age: 32
Role: Sinner/Sloth
Abilities: N/A
Personality: A lack of personality best describes James' personality. Be it society, his own depression, or the forces of the embodiment of Sloth acting on his soul, something has numbed him to a point where he doesn't really feel emotions, he just occasionally leaves the state of apathy that his mind exists in 90% of the time. He is a sad, depressed individual-- someone who has been on the edge for too long-- and he acts in stereotypical accordance to this.
Bio: What life? The existence James has begun to lead is hardly one worth recounting. After college he began to work-- and that is where James life now remains. Trapped in a purgatory created by his own lack of ambition, he puts little into earning barely enough money to keep himself alive and even less into his own enjoyment when he isn't working. Truth be told, James doesn't know where he got the energy to come to the party-- a certain voice in the back of his head perhaps?
Name: Marcus Junius
Appeared Age: 40
Role: Damned Spirit/Pride
Abilities: N/A
Personality: Marcus is a bastard. He was the type of person, in life, who became consumed by greed and anger but became an embodiment of megalomania to those around them. Decades spent burning in the fires of hell have only worsened his ego. He has no faults-- he is only in hell because God himself cannot compare to the glory that is Marcus, the fires that scorched his skin black have strengthened his resolve and belief in himself-- and that he embodies his sin so well has only bloated his ego further. He is the best soul to ever be, and others should strive to be like him.
Bio: Marcus Junius, the image of perfection and goodness, has been burning in the hottest fires of hell, for, 50 years? It doesn't matter much. The man is too proud to admit his wrongdoing in life. Even the depths of the 9th level do nothing to harm his stubborn resolve. In that way, he is strong. The pain he feels is nothing to admitting that he has sinned, that he was.
Marcus Junius was raised on Louisianan Voodoo, and continues to believe and practice his pagan magic. Voodoo, and the deal he made, is what put him in the fire.
Quite simply, in a test of vanity, Marcus Junius summoned a pagan spirit and asked to be made more powerful than God himself. It didn't turn out so well.
His skin is black from the fires that have only strengthened his belief that he is a god, and the tattoos that adorn his body are to remind him of the false religion he continues to follow.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/76274-a-si…
"Everything's gonna be okay."
Name: Caritas
Appeared Age: 21
Role: Angel/Charity
Abilities: N/A
Personality: To use the word 'nice' to describe Caritas is such an understatement, so much so that some would call it a sin, but Charitas would forgive you. The androgynous angel had fully adopted a demeanor so simple and kind that even Christ himself viewed the charity the angel has displayed as admirable. Caritas has a very childlike demeanor and optimism in regards to interaction with the world.
Bio: Caritas, unlike Corbel, is not an angel descended from the Divine Being, but instead is an innocent soul ascended to the rank after experiencing a mortal death.
Caritas was born with earthly name of Tyler Junius in Louisiana several decades ago. His human life was one filled with hardship, his family was poor, his mother was a drug addict, and his father an abusive narcissist-- he was not baptized, as his father was such a pagan that he worshiped himself. A young Tyler was not introduced to Christ until his 8th year on earth, when a Christian relative gifted him with a children's bible. It was through this single act of kindness and charity that, on Tyler's 9th year on earth, when he perished in a house set ablaze by his father's arrogance, that they young boy's soul was saved.
The decades since have seen Tyler cast aside his human name and accept Caritas, a name fitting the angelic qualities of one who was saved through charity and kindness, and now serves as a guardian angel to those who might be known to God through their own selfless acts. Urania, an angel representing the charity of Holy Spirit, sent Caritas to the party, to find and save any souls who might open their hearts to God through the altruism in their hearts.
~~~
"..."
Name: James Smith
Age: 32
Role: Sinner/Sloth
Abilities: N/A
Personality: A lack of personality best describes James' personality. Be it society, his own depression, or the forces of the embodiment of Sloth acting on his soul, something has numbed him to a point where he doesn't really feel emotions, he just occasionally leaves the state of apathy that his mind exists in 90% of the time. He is a sad, depressed individual-- someone who has been on the edge for too long-- and he acts in stereotypical accordance to this.
Bio: What life? The existence James has begun to lead is hardly one worth recounting. After college he began to work-- and that is where James life now remains. Trapped in a purgatory created by his own lack of ambition, he puts little into earning barely enough money to keep himself alive and even less into his own enjoyment when he isn't working. Truth be told, James doesn't know where he got the energy to come to the party-- a certain voice in the back of his head perhaps?
~~~
"I ain't gonna mess with THAT"
Name: Marcus Junius
Appeared Age: 40
Role: Damned Spirit/Pride
Abilities: N/A
Personality: Marcus is a bastard. He was the type of person, in life, who became consumed by greed and anger but became an embodiment of megalomania to those around them. Decades spent burning in the fires of hell have only worsened his ego. He has no faults-- he is only in hell because God himself cannot compare to the glory that is Marcus, the fires that scorched his skin black have strengthened his resolve and belief in himself-- and that he embodies his sin so well has only bloated his ego further. He is the best soul to ever be, and others should strive to be like him.
Bio: Marcus Junius, the image of perfection and goodness, has been burning in the hottest fires of hell, for, 50 years? It doesn't matter much. The man is too proud to admit his wrongdoing in life. Even the depths of the 9th level do nothing to harm his stubborn resolve. In that way, he is strong. The pain he feels is nothing to admitting that he has sinned, that he was.
Marcus Junius was raised on Louisianan Voodoo, and continues to believe and practice his pagan magic. Voodoo, and the deal he made, is what put him in the fire.
Quite simply, in a test of vanity, Marcus Junius summoned a pagan spirit and asked to be made more powerful than God himself. It didn't turn out so well.
His skin is black from the fires that have only strengthened his belief that he is a god, and the tattoos that adorn his body are to remind him of the false religion he continues to follow.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/76274-a-si…
OP
Zambambo character used multiple times
Appearance: Standing at 5'8'', Sylvia is taller than some, but certainly isn't the most imposing figure to approach. Her figure is one of a toned athlete subjected to years of the complacency that comes with a regular job, the wear and tear that come with age, as well as the pounds of fat gained over still exercised muscle give her a slightly 'plump' appearance, especially around the midsection. Aside from the odd crack of bone or groan upon movement her body is generally free of the wrinkles that begin to appear around her age. Although, with rising of the dead, she has begun to spout a few gray hairs.
Sylvia has several tattoos on her back, legs and upper arms from her youth, she tends to keep these covered up with the black slacks and dark blouses stereotypical to teachers.
Name: Sylvia Velázquez
Age: 41
Gender: Female
Occupation prior to apocalypse: High school history teacher, co-tennis coach, and drama club sponsor
Family: Unaware and/or deceased;
Education:
Skills:
Fears:
Disadvantages:
Morals/religion:
Main weapon: Aluminum softball bat, the bat is hollow and becoming dented from use, and has a weighted end.
Secondary weapon: N/A
Equipment: Large school book bag-
Food/water: 1/2 bottle of wine (0.75 lbs), 1 bottle of absinthe (1.5 lbs), 1 bottle of absinthe (repurposed and filled with water)(1.5 lbs), half eaten box of crackers (0.3 lbs)
Misc Supplies: 2 changes of clothes (3 lbs), assorted books/diaries (4 lbs), pen and pad (0.4 lbs), duct tape (0.25 lbs), other personal items (0.6 lbs), 1/2 pack of cigarettes and lighter (-- lbs)
Personality: Despite her conservative catholic upbringing, or perhaps in spite of it, Sylvia is an extremely open and liberal individual, having herself never fully grown out of her involvement in the hippie and counter-culture movements of her early youth, she tempers wisdom granted to her through years of experience as a teacher with an almost childlike optimism and idealism.
She doesn't have the nurturing qualities of a mother, not in full at least, but she exemplifies the qualities of an ideal teacher; she is an approachable, relatable, and friendly figure who strives to protect those around her, as well as teach and learn. Her sense of humor is one based on sarcasm, and as a naturally calming person, she often employs it to relieve tension.
Despite the breaking of society, Sylvia still believes people are intrinsically well-meaning.
Bio: Originally conceived in Nicaragua, Sylvia's parents were part of a large group of upper class citizens who fled the country to escape the violence of the the Nicaraguan Revolution of the 1960s and 1970s, and came to the US, allowing their daughter to be born into American citizenship. Sylvia only learned of her parent's native country through stories they would occasionally tell to her, and as she grew this would serve as a barrier between her and her parents.
Her parents spent her childhood working, maintaining their high position in society, leaving a young Sylvia to be raised by the private education system of California, and friends. In her early teens the extra educational opportunities her parents had bought her had thrown her several years ahead of most other students her age allowing her to graduate nearly 3 years before the typical college age, during this time her life took a major turning point as she met two of the greatest loves of her life; Tahliah Morris, Sylvia's first true love, introduced her to revolutionary ideologies and hippie philosophies.
Sylvia became more and more immersed in Californian youth culture during her hiatus from school, and by the time she did start school, she had already joined up with the Black Panthers and practically lived at a commune. Her parents disapproved of this lifestyle and ultimately gave her a choice, between her beliefs and school. It's a decision Sylvia regrets, and she kept the beliefs, but she chose to have her parents continue paying for her schooling, at the cost of the meaningful relationships in her life, including that with the first person who she felt truly loved her.
Teaching wasn't her first passion, but it was one she could pursue with the options her parents had given her. After Sylvia graduated she moved as far away from her parents as she could afford-- this happened to have been Georgia, Atlanta's east side, specifically-- and there she has remained, moving up from the charter schools to Grady High School, in the 15ish years since.
While she has been able to rebuild relationships from her past, as well as forming new ones, she was never able to quite get back into the world she was forced to leave behind.
Addition info:
roleplayerguild.com/topics/76065-the-…
Appearance:
Name: Sylvia Velázquez
Gender: Female
Age: 41
Medical Ailments: N/A
Nationality: Nicaraguan-American
Occupation prior to apocalypse: Chicago City Councilwoman, Green Party Representative
Four Week History: Slyvia doesn't even remember what meeting she had been flying to... or from. She spent the bulk of the last 4 weeks at the airport, trying to help maintain some semblance of order when she wasn't working her way through the alcohol of the airport. While not quite a leader, she was effective enough at recognizing the strengths of others and delegating roles accordingly that she was able to survive the bedlam that erupted as time marched forward. Long enough to make it to the bus with others.
Items of Interest: Large leather messenger bag/purse-
Weapons:
roleplayerguild.com/topics/77954-no-h…
Appearance: Standing at 5'8'', Sylvia is taller than some, but certainly isn't the most imposing figure to approach. Her figure is one of a toned athlete subjected to years of the complacency that comes with a regular job, the wear and tear that come with age, as well as the pounds of fat gained over still exercised muscle give her a slightly 'plump' appearance, especially around the midsection. Aside from the odd crack of bone or groan upon movement her body is generally free of the wrinkles that begin to appear around her age. Although, with rising of the dead, she has begun to spout a few gray hairs.
Sylvia has several tattoos on her back, legs and upper arms from her youth, she tends to keep these covered up with the black slacks and dark blouses stereotypical to teachers.
Name: Sylvia Velázquez
Age: 41
Gender: Female
Occupation prior to apocalypse: High school history teacher, co-tennis coach, and drama club sponsor
Family: Unaware and/or deceased;
She is estranged from her parents and doesn't feel hopeful that they've survived, but doesn't particularly care either way. She does have two younger siblings who she hopes have survived, but doesn't know either way. Slyvia's had a significant other killed herself early on.
Education:
- Bachelor of Education (Secondary) in Curriculum and Instruction, Teacher Education
- Teacher Education for Specific Subject Areas; Drama, History, and Social Science
- Licensed instructor in academics and physical education
- Trained and certified in CPR and basic first aid
Skills:
- Excellent at negotiating between two (or more) hostile parties
- Improvisational abilities
- Skilled in calming young children
- Above-average long distance runner
- Trained in stress management, basic first aid and CPR
Fears:
- Becoming a walker and hurting those she cares about.
- Becoming more useless with age.
- What is unknown about the walker sickness.
- The death of children.
- That her companions may have malicious intent.
- Despite her age, Slyvia is still unnerved when she finds herself alone in the dark.
Disadvantages:
- Sylvia's knowledge of guns is next to nothing, although this may be a front she puts on due to a simple disliking of guns, she may know more than she lets on, having been a member of the Black Panthers.
- Her tendency to trust strangers may put her in dangerous situations.
- Does not kill children or walker children.
Morals/religion:
- While not particularly religious, Sylvia does believe in respect for the dead, this includes at least trying to remember the deceased fondly, and conducting proper burials over burnings whenever possible.
- Sees herself as morally responsible for seeking out the good nature in people and trying to help them.
- As a rule, she does not follow the 'shoot first, ask questions later' philosophy, preferring diplomacy whenever possible.
- Does not kill children or walker children.
Main weapon: Aluminum softball bat, the bat is hollow and becoming dented from use, and has a weighted end.
Secondary weapon: N/A
Equipment: Large school book bag-
Food/water: 1/2 bottle of wine (0.75 lbs), 1 bottle of absinthe (1.5 lbs), 1 bottle of absinthe (repurposed and filled with water)(1.5 lbs), half eaten box of crackers (0.3 lbs)
Misc Supplies: 2 changes of clothes (3 lbs), assorted books/diaries (4 lbs), pen and pad (0.4 lbs), duct tape (0.25 lbs), other personal items (0.6 lbs), 1/2 pack of cigarettes and lighter (-- lbs)
Personality: Despite her conservative catholic upbringing, or perhaps in spite of it, Sylvia is an extremely open and liberal individual, having herself never fully grown out of her involvement in the hippie and counter-culture movements of her early youth, she tempers wisdom granted to her through years of experience as a teacher with an almost childlike optimism and idealism.
She doesn't have the nurturing qualities of a mother, not in full at least, but she exemplifies the qualities of an ideal teacher; she is an approachable, relatable, and friendly figure who strives to protect those around her, as well as teach and learn. Her sense of humor is one based on sarcasm, and as a naturally calming person, she often employs it to relieve tension.
Despite the breaking of society, Sylvia still believes people are intrinsically well-meaning.
Bio: Originally conceived in Nicaragua, Sylvia's parents were part of a large group of upper class citizens who fled the country to escape the violence of the the Nicaraguan Revolution of the 1960s and 1970s, and came to the US, allowing their daughter to be born into American citizenship. Sylvia only learned of her parent's native country through stories they would occasionally tell to her, and as she grew this would serve as a barrier between her and her parents.
Her parents spent her childhood working, maintaining their high position in society, leaving a young Sylvia to be raised by the private education system of California, and friends. In her early teens the extra educational opportunities her parents had bought her had thrown her several years ahead of most other students her age allowing her to graduate nearly 3 years before the typical college age, during this time her life took a major turning point as she met two of the greatest loves of her life; Tahliah Morris, Sylvia's first true love, introduced her to revolutionary ideologies and hippie philosophies.
Sylvia became more and more immersed in Californian youth culture during her hiatus from school, and by the time she did start school, she had already joined up with the Black Panthers and practically lived at a commune. Her parents disapproved of this lifestyle and ultimately gave her a choice, between her beliefs and school. It's a decision Sylvia regrets, and she kept the beliefs, but she chose to have her parents continue paying for her schooling, at the cost of the meaningful relationships in her life, including that with the first person who she felt truly loved her.
Teaching wasn't her first passion, but it was one she could pursue with the options her parents had given her. After Sylvia graduated she moved as far away from her parents as she could afford-- this happened to have been Georgia, Atlanta's east side, specifically-- and there she has remained, moving up from the charter schools to Grady High School, in the 15ish years since.
While she has been able to rebuild relationships from her past, as well as forming new ones, she was never able to quite get back into the world she was forced to leave behind.
Addition info:
- The loss of her girlfirend, despite having happened months ago by this point, is still a sore subject for her
- Sylvia exhibits borderline alcoholic tendencies
- Sylvia is no stranger to drug use, and may seek out self medication if things get too stressful
- Despite being raised in a home with parents native to Nicaragua, Sylvia can't speak Spanish. Her parent's reasoning for not teaching her being that she shouldn't have to speak it in a more 'civilized' country, like America.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/76065-the-…
Appearance:
Standing at 5'8'', Sylvia is taller than some, but certainly isn't the most imposing figure to approach. Her figure is one of a toned athlete subjected to years of the complacency that comes with a stressful job and the wear and tear that come with age. Resulting in several pounds of fat accumulated over still existent muscle, giving her a slightly 'plump' form.
Aside from the odd crack of bone or groan upon movement her body is generally free of the wrinkles that begin to appear around her age. Although, with rising of the dead, she has begun to spout a few more silver hairs.
Sylvia has several tattoos on her back, legs and upper arms from her youth, she tends to keep these covered up with the black slacks and suits stereotypical to politicians and business women.
Aside from the odd crack of bone or groan upon movement her body is generally free of the wrinkles that begin to appear around her age. Although, with rising of the dead, she has begun to spout a few more silver hairs.
Sylvia has several tattoos on her back, legs and upper arms from her youth, she tends to keep these covered up with the black slacks and suits stereotypical to politicians and business women.
Name: Sylvia Velázquez
Gender: Female
Age: 41
Medical Ailments: N/A
Nationality: Nicaraguan-American
Occupation prior to apocalypse: Chicago City Councilwoman, Green Party Representative
Four Week History: Slyvia doesn't even remember what meeting she had been flying to... or from. She spent the bulk of the last 4 weeks at the airport, trying to help maintain some semblance of order when she wasn't working her way through the alcohol of the airport. While not quite a leader, she was effective enough at recognizing the strengths of others and delegating roles accordingly that she was able to survive the bedlam that erupted as time marched forward. Long enough to make it to the bus with others.
Originally conceived in Nicaragua, Sylvia's parents were part of a large group of upper class citizens who fled the country to escape the violence of the the Nicaraguan Revolution of the 1960s and 1970s, and came to the US, allowing their daughter to be born into American citizenship. Sylvia only learned of her parent's native country through stories they would occasionally tell to her, and as she grew this would serve as a barrier between her and her parents. She was. quite literally, a child of the revolution.
Her parents spent her childhood working, maintaining their high position in society, leaving a young Sylvia to be raised by the private education system of California, and friends. In her early teens the extra educational opportunities her parents had bought her had thrown her several years ahead of most other students her age allowing her to graduate nearly 3 years before the typical college age. During this time her life took a major turning point as she was introduced to radical philosophies that would eventually become central to the woman she is today.
Sylvia became more and more immersed in Californian youth culture during her hiatus from school, and by the time she did start school, she had already joined up with the Black Panthers and practically lived at a commune. Her parents disapproved of this lifestyle, not wanting to be shamed for having a domestic terrorist as a daughter, and ultimately gave her a choice, between her beliefs and greater schooling. It's a decision Sylvia regrets, as she kept the radicalized beliefs, but she chose to have her parents continue paying for her schooling, at the cost of the meaningful relationships and beliefs in her life.
Politics weren't her first passion, but she figured she could change the world, perhaps at a slower rate than the revolutionary in her would have liked. After Sylvia graduated, she moved as far away from her parents as she could afford-- this happened to have been Illinois-- and there she has remained, moving up in the political world, in the 15ish years since.
While she quite as openly radicalized as she was in her youth, as an official representative from the Green Party, she's never forgotten the training, trials and experiences from her youth. Part of her was, in fact, entirely overjoyed at the fall of the US government. Of course, that part only got five seconds to vocalize it's ideological victory before fear of the shamblers took over.
Her parents spent her childhood working, maintaining their high position in society, leaving a young Sylvia to be raised by the private education system of California, and friends. In her early teens the extra educational opportunities her parents had bought her had thrown her several years ahead of most other students her age allowing her to graduate nearly 3 years before the typical college age. During this time her life took a major turning point as she was introduced to radical philosophies that would eventually become central to the woman she is today.
Sylvia became more and more immersed in Californian youth culture during her hiatus from school, and by the time she did start school, she had already joined up with the Black Panthers and practically lived at a commune. Her parents disapproved of this lifestyle, not wanting to be shamed for having a domestic terrorist as a daughter, and ultimately gave her a choice, between her beliefs and greater schooling. It's a decision Sylvia regrets, as she kept the radicalized beliefs, but she chose to have her parents continue paying for her schooling, at the cost of the meaningful relationships and beliefs in her life.
Politics weren't her first passion, but she figured she could change the world, perhaps at a slower rate than the revolutionary in her would have liked. After Sylvia graduated, she moved as far away from her parents as she could afford-- this happened to have been Illinois-- and there she has remained, moving up in the political world, in the 15ish years since.
While she quite as openly radicalized as she was in her youth, as an official representative from the Green Party, she's never forgotten the training, trials and experiences from her youth. Part of her was, in fact, entirely overjoyed at the fall of the US government. Of course, that part only got five seconds to vocalize it's ideological victory before fear of the shamblers took over.
Items of Interest: Large leather messenger bag/purse-
- Food/water: 1 bottle of wine (re-purposed and filled with water) (0.75 lbs), 1 bottle of absinthe (1 lbs), half eaten box of crackers (0.3 lbs)
- Misc Supplies (main bag): 2 changes of clothes (3 lbs), assorted books/records/diaries (1 lbs), pens and pad (0.4 lbs), other personal items (0.6 lbs), several grams of cocaine (-- lbs)
- Misc Supplies (accessible side pockets): Accumulated loose ammo (1 lbs), duct tape (0.25 lbs), 1/2 pack of cigarettes and lighter (-- lbs),
Weapons:
Some relevant skills:
Addition info:
- Excellent at negotiating between two (or more) hostile parties
- Improvisational abilities
- Some memory of self-defense, firearm, and explosive training w/ Black Panthers
- Above-average long distance runner
- Trained in stress management, basic first aid and CPR
Addition info:
- Sylvia exhibits borderline alcoholic tendencies
- Sylvia is no stranger to drug use, and may seek out self medication if things get too stressful
- Despite being raised in a home with parents native to Nicaragua, Sylvia can only speak so much Spanish. Her parent's reasoning for not teaching her being that she shouldn't have to speak it in a more 'civilized' country, like America.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/77954-no-h…
OP
Another zambambo character
Name: Maria Alo Gonzaga
Age: 42
Appearance:
Gender: Female
Family: 0, Maria was raised by a single mother who died when Maria was in her 20's, she was never introduced to her extended family and she has no children. Keeps things simpler that way.
Personality: Her privileged upbringing shows. Maria is descended from kings, and she knows it. She openly scoffs at what she finds uncouth, commands those she sees as beneath her, and turns her nose up at that not worth her time. This was born of a lonely childhood filled with loneliness and mental struggle. She turns her posh and stoic acts up to 11 to hide her own insecurity; "Do they know I'm crazy?" "Did my mother love me?" She is someone who wears a false heart on their sleeve.
Job Before The Outbreak: Modelling agent, partner, and major shareholder at several LA-based and international modelling agencies
Disability/Fear: Maria is actually an example of functional living with schizophrenia, from a young age she suffered from mostly auditory hallucinations as well as having an increased chance of paranoid, the medicine she takes for it keeps her mind relatively normal, but the thought that once her medicine runs out-- that's it, the thought gnaws at her. She wears glasses to help with her slight near-sightedness. As someone who has climbed the business ladder, she has participated in any number of vices, she has become attached to some more than others-- she may simply have a taste for some drugs, while she might be borderline addicted to others, she's certainly developed an addiction to caffeine and tobacco. Lastly, as someone who led a relatively sedentary lifestyle before the outbreak, it's unlikely she'll be anywhere near as capable physically most other people in.
Weapon of Choice: A rapier wit. Maria relies less on an established weapon of choice and more on "desenrascanço"-- improvisation in the moment. When under threat of zombies this could be something like finding a weapon, exploiting the environment around her, or finding a quick route of escape, while dealing with people, this skill could become more charisma based.
Age: 42
Appearance:
Gender: Female
Family: 0, Maria was raised by a single mother who died when Maria was in her 20's, she was never introduced to her extended family and she has no children. Keeps things simpler that way.
Personality: Her privileged upbringing shows. Maria is descended from kings, and she knows it. She openly scoffs at what she finds uncouth, commands those she sees as beneath her, and turns her nose up at that not worth her time. This was born of a lonely childhood filled with loneliness and mental struggle. She turns her posh and stoic acts up to 11 to hide her own insecurity; "Do they know I'm crazy?" "Did my mother love me?" She is someone who wears a false heart on their sleeve.
Bio: Maria's childhood was spent in equal parts between Portugal and Brazil, her mother, royal ambassador Teresa, was hardly present, but she was brought up in the lap of luxury. As a descendent of Portuguese and Brazilian royalty, she lived a life of privilege. Teresa, while not present for much of her life, gave the young Maria a qualified staff to raise her as she went between countries, receiving the best available training in every subject in school, as well as public speaking and communication, and other generally antiquated Royal lessons. The most time she spent with her mother was the occasion the two needed to make a public appearance.
Genes for "insanity" often run in Royal bloodlines, Maria was unfortunate enough to be the recipient of one of these genes after decades of Royal inbreeding in the past. Her mother never acknowledged it and the help simply told her to hide it. So hide it she did. Schizophrenia is and easy mental disease to overcome, but with a determination born in Maria, and medicine provided by occasional trips to the USA, Maria hid it.
It wasn't until she was 17 that she got her US citizenship, receiving precedence due to her regal bloodline. She received advanced lessons prior to her entry in the country, due to this and a lifetime of advanced lessons, she graduated with honors from her private American high school the same year, without pause she did her mother's bidding and went to an accredited university in Portugal and got a master's in business administration.
Then Teresa died.
Not knowing what else to do, Maria moved back to America with a very generous inheritance, and used her connections, monetary resources, and Royal education to quickly move up the ranks in various jobs she found her passions in. She eventually settled on work as an agent, she enjoyed the job for it's similarities to the ambassadorship she had been trained for, as well as the wealth the private sector provided. By the age of 30, had become a major partner in several LA modelling agencies. By 40, her models and actors could be seen and heard on practically every major television channel in the US. By 40, she had gone international, and began to dominate the local Portuguese and European modelling scene. Then with 42, came an apocalypse that took that all away.
Genes for "insanity" often run in Royal bloodlines, Maria was unfortunate enough to be the recipient of one of these genes after decades of Royal inbreeding in the past. Her mother never acknowledged it and the help simply told her to hide it. So hide it she did. Schizophrenia is and easy mental disease to overcome, but with a determination born in Maria, and medicine provided by occasional trips to the USA, Maria hid it.
It wasn't until she was 17 that she got her US citizenship, receiving precedence due to her regal bloodline. She received advanced lessons prior to her entry in the country, due to this and a lifetime of advanced lessons, she graduated with honors from her private American high school the same year, without pause she did her mother's bidding and went to an accredited university in Portugal and got a master's in business administration.
Then Teresa died.
Not knowing what else to do, Maria moved back to America with a very generous inheritance, and used her connections, monetary resources, and Royal education to quickly move up the ranks in various jobs she found her passions in. She eventually settled on work as an agent, she enjoyed the job for it's similarities to the ambassadorship she had been trained for, as well as the wealth the private sector provided. By the age of 30, had become a major partner in several LA modelling agencies. By 40, her models and actors could be seen and heard on practically every major television channel in the US. By 40, she had gone international, and began to dominate the local Portuguese and European modelling scene. Then with 42, came an apocalypse that took that all away.
Job Before The Outbreak: Modelling agent, partner, and major shareholder at several LA-based and international modelling agencies
Disability/Fear: Maria is actually an example of functional living with schizophrenia, from a young age she suffered from mostly auditory hallucinations as well as having an increased chance of paranoid, the medicine she takes for it keeps her mind relatively normal, but the thought that once her medicine runs out-- that's it, the thought gnaws at her. She wears glasses to help with her slight near-sightedness. As someone who has climbed the business ladder, she has participated in any number of vices, she has become attached to some more than others-- she may simply have a taste for some drugs, while she might be borderline addicted to others, she's certainly developed an addiction to caffeine and tobacco. Lastly, as someone who led a relatively sedentary lifestyle before the outbreak, it's unlikely she'll be anywhere near as capable physically most other people in.
Weapon of Choice: A rapier wit. Maria relies less on an established weapon of choice and more on "desenrascanço"-- improvisation in the moment. When under threat of zombies this could be something like finding a weapon, exploiting the environment around her, or finding a quick route of escape, while dealing with people, this skill could become more charisma based.
OP
Also zamb, has a clone somewhere
---
Appearance: Ada is a figured woman, with a skinny hourglass shaped standing at around 5' 9', to emphasize her lithe form she wears primarily black and darker colors. Preferring black skinny jeans and black knee socks over leggings. She's usually seen in a practical even toned shirt and dark jackets that are more style than anything. She has a seemingly endless supply of sports bras, and one good, reliable pair of converse, as far as accessories, she has a trusty school backpack and an unseasonably warm page boy cap, she's never seen without it, tucking her hair in, could giver her a more androgynous, masculine appearance, if she ever decided to go easy on the Gothic make-up.
Name: Ada Cinet
Age: 23
Skill: General people skills, improvisation, free running, looting, knowledge in the areas of science, psychology and history
Weapon: Unarmed
Personality: Ada is sensitive and strong. She has empathy and believes in the good nature of people; preferring to investigate a problem and find as many situational factors and contexts as possible before making her own judgement. She also has wildly radical beliefs and will fight for her own beliefs, as well as those of others. Her mood at any given moment could be influenced by a variety of things-- mostly music, though, and her methods are as erratic as the genres she listens to. Ada believes strongly in using history's mistakes to guide us, as well as staying open, both to people and to all the possibilities of the unknown. Ada gives some credit to Louisianan Voudou. She has potential, and her being aware of this may sometimes lead to her being cocky, or even hindering action, but overall, she's a good, cunning and quick person.
Brief Bio: Ada, born on Louisiana's coast to a Creole mother and a Cuban father, is the result of what happens when a man leaves a woman, one who can barely take care of herself, with a child. Both of Ada's parents were unprepared for her coming into the world, really-- they themselves raised in tumultuous households-- they couldn't give the baby what she properly needed to grow, they were still children themselves. Ada's father left her and her mother when she was barely 4, left as a bastard for her mother, the woman turned to drugs, relying on family to help raise Ada as she herself resigned to a drug fueled existence. Despite this, the two were close, her mother's employment was always temporary and so she and Ada moved around Louisiana, leaving little in the way of making friends at school. To compensate for this, Ada instead grew close to the places she was, learning of the lore, legends and history of locations, taking it to heart as she grew.
When Ada was 7, her mother, now having moved throughout the south and settling westward in California for a few years, gave birth to a younger brother, who would become Ada's best friend. When she was 14, her mother got arrested and Ada and her little brother lived with distant relatives in Nevada. This was the first period of real stability in Ada's life, and it was the first point she had been presented conventional parenting, while living with these relatives in Nevada, her world view was expanded even more with constant trips and vacations, as well as better schooling-- while she and her younger brother didn't like the people who were taking care of them, they did like what they were doing for them.
5 years later, Ada, 19, found herself to be a much more open, intelligent, and free thinking individual, all of the characteristics of punk, hippie, counter-culture, beatnik and burnout. She would consider herself to be something of a syncretist, with many of her philosophies clashing with the current American system and societal ways and beliefs. She wanted anarchy, but tried to work within the system to change it. She was over her own mother, she still loved her, but she didn't have the time or energy to be mad at her as she got out of jail. Ada had to devote all of her energy to college, she found the American University system trite and needlessly traditionalist.
At the age of 22, the anti-capitalist, the anarchist Ada, having isolated herself from her family, flunked out of school, preferring to follow Emma Goldman and Diogenes the Cynic and make her own path.
She did this, more or less, by being homeless, sleeping either with family or friends-- or simply under the open sky. The similarity between her current life and her mother wasn't lost on her. Then the apocalypse happened.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/126568-the…
roleplayerguild.com/topics/73889-the-…
---
Appearance: Ada is a figured woman, with a skinny hourglass shaped standing at around 5' 9', to emphasize her lithe form she wears primarily black and darker colors. Preferring black skinny jeans and black knee socks over leggings. She's usually seen in a practical even toned shirt and dark jackets that are more style than anything. She has a seemingly endless supply of sports bras, and one good, reliable pair of converse, as far as accessories, she has a trusty school backpack and an unseasonably warm page boy cap, she's never seen without it, tucking her hair in, could giver her a more androgynous, masculine appearance, if she ever decided to go easy on the Gothic make-up.
Name: Ada Cinet
Age: 23
Skill: General people skills, improvisation, free running, looting, knowledge in the areas of science, psychology and history
Weapon: Unarmed
Personality: Ada is sensitive and strong. She has empathy and believes in the good nature of people; preferring to investigate a problem and find as many situational factors and contexts as possible before making her own judgement. She also has wildly radical beliefs and will fight for her own beliefs, as well as those of others. Her mood at any given moment could be influenced by a variety of things-- mostly music, though, and her methods are as erratic as the genres she listens to. Ada believes strongly in using history's mistakes to guide us, as well as staying open, both to people and to all the possibilities of the unknown. Ada gives some credit to Louisianan Voudou. She has potential, and her being aware of this may sometimes lead to her being cocky, or even hindering action, but overall, she's a good, cunning and quick person.
Brief Bio: Ada, born on Louisiana's coast to a Creole mother and a Cuban father, is the result of what happens when a man leaves a woman, one who can barely take care of herself, with a child. Both of Ada's parents were unprepared for her coming into the world, really-- they themselves raised in tumultuous households-- they couldn't give the baby what she properly needed to grow, they were still children themselves. Ada's father left her and her mother when she was barely 4, left as a bastard for her mother, the woman turned to drugs, relying on family to help raise Ada as she herself resigned to a drug fueled existence. Despite this, the two were close, her mother's employment was always temporary and so she and Ada moved around Louisiana, leaving little in the way of making friends at school. To compensate for this, Ada instead grew close to the places she was, learning of the lore, legends and history of locations, taking it to heart as she grew.
When Ada was 7, her mother, now having moved throughout the south and settling westward in California for a few years, gave birth to a younger brother, who would become Ada's best friend. When she was 14, her mother got arrested and Ada and her little brother lived with distant relatives in Nevada. This was the first period of real stability in Ada's life, and it was the first point she had been presented conventional parenting, while living with these relatives in Nevada, her world view was expanded even more with constant trips and vacations, as well as better schooling-- while she and her younger brother didn't like the people who were taking care of them, they did like what they were doing for them.
5 years later, Ada, 19, found herself to be a much more open, intelligent, and free thinking individual, all of the characteristics of punk, hippie, counter-culture, beatnik and burnout. She would consider herself to be something of a syncretist, with many of her philosophies clashing with the current American system and societal ways and beliefs. She wanted anarchy, but tried to work within the system to change it. She was over her own mother, she still loved her, but she didn't have the time or energy to be mad at her as she got out of jail. Ada had to devote all of her energy to college, she found the American University system trite and needlessly traditionalist.
At the age of 22, the anti-capitalist, the anarchist Ada, having isolated herself from her family, flunked out of school, preferring to follow Emma Goldman and Diogenes the Cynic and make her own path.
She did this, more or less, by being homeless, sleeping either with family or friends-- or simply under the open sky. The similarity between her current life and her mother wasn't lost on her. Then the apocalypse happened.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/126568-the…
roleplayerguild.com/topics/73889-the-…
OP
Z
Name: Chae Ji Ryeŏn
Age: 26
Appearance: Although varied at 1/2 Korean, 1/4th Vietnamese, and 1/4 Puerto Rican, Chae's ancestry doesn't exactly spell out 'melting pot,' but still, mesh together well with her own sense of fashion, to form a woman who possesses a very smokey, dark beauty.
Skill(s):
Preferred Weapon(s):
Personality: Chae is someone who, at her core, loves life, and loves loving things in life. Generally unconcerned with pursuing the same worldly pleasures as most found themselves chasing before the apocalypse. Chae was, more or less, a bum, less out of laziness, and more out only being truly concerned with her passions, and what made her happy. Still, even then she was full of self doubt, loathing and depression. She feels abandonment easy and tries not to stay too close to anyone, even people she considers friends. While some of these traits have helped her vastly since the Fall, other have proved ideologically detrimental. And occasional bouts of depression, stemming from many things, such as her surroundings and her undressed psychological issues, occasionally leave her so lethargic and apathetic she may be unable to move.
Chae, like the music she loves, is an ocean of beautiful emotional meaning and variability, melancholic and bangers. At her best, she's a clever, sarcastic, and pleasant idea woman who'll just as soon hit on everyone in a room as she would throw up her Wu-Tang 'W.' At her worst, she can be an unresponsive, vulnerable wreck, defined by her own insecurities and baggage.
Brief Bio:
"Uuuggggggggghhhhhhhhhh..." Chae's girlish groan polluted the semi-humid, still swamp. She and her companion walked, a lone pair on a road that seemed to go on forever, itself only polluted by abandoned cars and the occasional town. Atlanta was a long way away now, and most of the journey getting to Louisiana on foot. However, in spite of this, or perhaps because of it, Chae was prone to extreme bouts of ennui, all while avoiding the roaming hordes.
A roll of the eyes came from the man who walked by her side, something that sounded like the bastard child of a sigh and a dry chuckle escaped his lips. As if preempting his response, Chae spoke beyond a strained onomatopoeia.
"Dude, I'm sooooo bored!" She rolled her head back, as if to declare it to the sky, "God, why did you have to make the apocalypse so boring?"
The man smiled, settling on silent laughter, "Just chill, Chi chi," He spoke in a deep, Latin tinged voice, "You'll wake the nzumbi."
She scoffed, "'Least that'd be something, Chito..." after a moment, she gave a resigned sigh, "No, you're right... you're totally right." She kicked a pebble off the road as they continued on, "So then, how much further now?"
With practiced speed, Chito adjusted his back pack, maintained his pace, and pulled out a very worn looking road map. After darting his eyes between points on the map and road signs for several minutes, he folded the paper and put it back in it's pocket just as fast. His shrug was both ecstatically happy and completely nonchalant, after weeks, months... however long they had been at it.... Chae was beginning to recognize how completely subdued the man's emotions were. "If it's accurate..." he began, "And we maintain this pace..." he said, a tone of playful remembrance, "I guess we might make to Baton Rouge before night."
"Really?" Chae, on the other hand, wanted to express her excitement by practically breaking into a jog, "This!" She started, accessing the innards of her own backpack with equally practiced skill, "Calls for a drink!" As if it was the last of it's kind, Chae held the bottle of Jack Daniels towards the sun.
"I'll pass." Was Chito's quick response.
Chae smirked, a 'you don't know what you're missing' type smirk. She wasted no time in uncapping the bottle-- three swigs-- a toast. A toast to days spent walking from one city in Louisiana to the next and even longer spent getting from Atlanta to where they were now. That familiar pleasant warmth filled her body. Everything felt just a tiny bit more spaced out.
"You're gonna get us killed, Chi chi."
Chae, without speaking, simply gave her traveling companion a wink bordering on coy.
Chae hated this.
Her demeanor seemed to cast a generally disheveled aura upon the room, letting her feelings known to the mousey University students that seemed to surround her. Freshmen no doubt. Her presence had to be a dominating force to them-- as she sat, legs crossed, all the emotion of fiery Latin Bonita coupled with the hangover of said Bonita's husband on a siesta-- of course, there was also the anxiety that came with piling into a cramped financial aid office.
The room was painted a dreadfully 'calming' blue, that only seemed to give strength to Chae's beating migraine. Around her, in hard plastic seats, were students of GSU, each more nervous than the next. Despite that, there was a hope to their youthful angst that Chae envied. She wasn't much older than them-- but even at her age with her debt and demeanor, she was, compared to them, an absolute failure.
A bankrupt, lazy, sexy failure. She would correct herself.
Lined against a single wall, the students, young or not, were only given two options in their waiting room purgatory; SLEEP- which, while appealing, carried with it the risk missing your name being called. Or WATCH TV- Which presented itself as the only real option of the two. On now was the news, they were doing some live report on some new, hyper-rare sickness or something. The hangover continued to bump against Chae's skull.
Every few minutes, a woman's voice would DRONE over an intercom that sounded inches away from death. She would announce some name, and with clockwork precision, one of the students ahead of her would stand and walk towards a darkened hallway, as if the financial aid advisers were a guillotine.
Functionally, they were!
"Halmonee!?"
Chae was seriously beginning to panic. She was practically running from room to room in the old creaky house, screaming for her grandmother. The woman who had, essentially, let jobless, permanently sophomoric Chae live with her, rent free, for the past 7 years. Five Points was just on the outskirts of Downtown Atlanta-- but even here, already, chaos was beginning to break.
A panting Chae ran past a TV in the rustic living room, once something of an artist's pad, it now existed in a state of discord. The only functioning appliance in the house being a TV-- between bouts of static, the monotone, robotic message urged citizens to seek shelter in Atlanta.
A derisive scoff was all it got in reply from Chae, busying herself with packing in between frantic cries fro her grandmother. Atlanta would be a death wish; she'd seen them, people with the infection, the monsters that they become, she couldn't deal with that-- not right now. The tears were still warm in her eyes just thinking of the sight.
No. Atlanta, other people, that would be bad. They needed to run away-- A few of her friends from GSU had agreed, between them all, she'd managed to organize a weird impromptu escape plan. She had family in Tybee Island. They could get there fine with a group of 10ish people, as long as everyone pitched in for gas. A few days south would be enough time for the WHO or the government or whatever to get everything in order.
Right?
They all had needed little convincing to go pack. Chae didn't exactly have faith in the government to keep her best interests in mind through this. They never had. But there were more upstanding citizens than she at risk in all of this! Good people! And not just half-baked anarchists-- like actual law abiding, tax paying citizens. They had to try to resolve this in a few days. If her enlisted entourage was fast and they were all lucky getting out, they'd all be gone within the hour, Tybee before sunset, everything calmed down in a few weeks.
Now, if only she could find her grandmother...
"Halmonee!!!"
Chae stood silently. Sirens blared in the distance. People were yelling, different voices, different types of screams gliding all over her slight figure. Somewhere, something was on fire. Tears welled in her eyes, not from smoke, but from the sight in front of her.
A gentle breeze carried with it a foul stench. It brushed lightly against her skin, her hair loose wool on her hat blew with it as it passed.
In front of her stood a woman, clawing at shrubbery, in a small backyard.
It used to be her backyard, the womans. The woman was now, however, a mere shell. Chae still saw in it the woman... her grandmother... her halmonee. The eccentric Puerto Rican-Korean woman who had, essentially, let jobless, permanently sophomoric Chae live with her, rent free, for the past 7 years...
"...H-halmonee?" Chae's voice quivered, taking a tentative a tentative step forward, she laughing nervously to avoid addressing the reality, if even a little bit long, "Hey... Halmonee? C'mon. Let's..."
A growl came as the woman turned. Wrinkled arms appeared to be covered in lacerations and bite marks, equally wrinkled skin was as pale a curdled milk. Chae's eyes, filled with tears fighting to gush met those of the woman who was once her grandmother, freshly soulless. The infection drove the shell of the old woman forward, that low growl that once used to be the voice of her grandmother pushed her over the edge.
Chae fell to her knees.
Name: Moksha 'Moki' Ryeŏn
Age: >1 yr
Skill:
Preferred Weapon(s):
Personality: Meow.
Brief Bio: Was born a few months ago.
Momma cat died protecting him from desperate walkers.
Is basically Black Panther.
Name: Miguel 'Chito' Evans
Age: 17
Appearance: With the muscles of an amateur wrestler and the height of statue, Chito is just one of those guys you don't want to piss off in a small room. Training regiments derived from a military family and high school sports trainers looking to see their boy earn his sports scholarship a year early, his body is still toned-- with more than few fresh scars gained from dealing with the nzumbi head on...
Skill:
Preferred Weapon(s):
Personality: Chito is a man of few words-- and fittingly, as is an easy description of his personality; Although he's young, he's cool, calm, and collected.
Brief Bio: (See tl;dr)
Name: Chae Ji Ryeŏn
Age: 40
Appearance: Although varied at 1/2 Korean, 1/4th Vietnamese, and 1/4 Puerto Rican, Chae's ancestry doesn't exactly spell out 'melting pot,' but still, mesh together well with her own sense of fashion, to form a woman who possesses a very smokey, dark beauty.
Skill(s):
Preferred Weapon(s):
Personality: Chae is someone who, at her core, loves life, and loves loving things in life. Generally unconcerned with pursuing the same worldly pleasures as most found themselves chasing before the apocalypse. Chae was, more or less, a bum, less out of laziness, and more out only being truly concerned with her passions, and what made her happy. Still, even then she was full of self doubt, loathing and depression. She feels abandonment easy and tries not to stay too close to anyone, even people she considers friends.
While some of these traits have helped her vastly since the Fall, other have proved ideologically detrimental. She suffers occasional bouts of psychosis, stemming from many things, such as her surroundings and her undressed psychological issues, occasionally leave her so lethargic and apathetic she may be unable to move.
Chae, at her best, is a clever, sarcastic, and pleasant idea woman who'll just as soon hit on everyone in a room as she would throw up her Wu-Tang 'W.' At her worst, she can be an unresponsive, vulnerable wreck, defined by her own insecurities and baggage.
Character History: Chae, before the fall, was the typical 21st century tragic office drone; smart enough to comprehend her own shortcomings as a person as well as the soul crushing reality of modern day capitalism, but not smart enough to do anything about it. Her peers often perceived her as standoffish, and she can come off as detached because of this, often seeming to actively be trying to escape reality. Her history can be summed up simply-- she had been working as a nurse for DWB. Before that? She dropped out of University right before she could attain a Master's degree due to her own philosophical differences with local Seattle government, as a protest. Before that? She actually did things to help people, training to become a nurse, and getting to go and help Doctors Without Borders. Before that? Childhood. And before that? She was born in some American military base in Germany and raised, often moving around, on the West Coat/Pacific Northwest.
At University age, she utilized a scholarship and dutifully attended the UCLA, it was there that she discovered her interests in medicine and talking to people. After earning some early accolades in her academic career for assisting with very lucrative lab trials from the university, she received another scholarship that allowed her to attend several medical schools all over America, and sit in. Although her scholarships were full, their conditions left little room for error, combined with an already reserved and serious nature-- she found little time for socialization-- something deeply troubling to her. Still, by the age of 21, Chae had earned her degree, although her specialties (General practice, Cardiology and Hematology), would mean another 8 years of residency and fellowships. She instead opted to take her time-- something the school board found unacceptable-- but the nurses she volunteered with, found miraculous. This time was spent "island hopping," taking advantage of her medical credentials, she spent her time not attending classes, but instead learning about nursing, receiving training from some of the best nurses.
This reprise and period of self-discovery prompted her to actively rebel against the school board. Chae's rather plain life needed a change, and she decided to actively make a change, being aptly qualified, she joined Médecins Sans Frontières, to put her skills to use in the world as a whole. In a way she felt many doctors never would. While still acting under the scrutiny of a traditionalist system, and using her work to fill up her void of a social life, she found the exciting and morally rewarding life fun, and was happy.
She even found, in the doctors she acted as a nurse to, companionship and romantic relationships. This, of course, was until the Fall. Médecins Sans Frontières were among the first response groups when it came to aid and attempted medical treatment, with Chae, in her home region, on the front lines. She was exposed to the plague first hand, and saw the chaos it created-- someone like her, an overqualified not-quite-doctor-in-training who had come into close contact without dying-- but lost an eye to gain all the wisdom she'd need.
She's learned how to survive and has become something of an odd duck since the fall-- seeing fighting as the last option possible for her. She continues to hone her skills as one of the few medically trained people left. She's come to rely on groups, and has with her, a kitten, who's life she recently saved.
Name: Moksha 'Moki' Ryeŏn
Age: >1 yr
Skill:
Preferred Weapon(s):
Personality: Meow.
Brief Bio: Was born a few months ago.
Momma cat died protecting him from desperate walkers.
Is basically Black Panther.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/78659-amon…
"I dunno, an apocalypse wouldn't be too bad... Hey! If they're dead, then you don't have to pay your debts, right...? I actually think that'd be hella rad, y'know?"
Name: Chae Ji Ryeŏn
Age: 26
Appearance: Although varied at 1/2 Korean, 1/4th Vietnamese, and 1/4 Puerto Rican, Chae's ancestry doesn't exactly spell out 'melting pot,' but still, mesh together well with her own sense of fashion, to form a woman who possesses a very smokey, dark beauty.
Soft, almost black, almond-shaped eyes serve as the centerpiece of a porcelain, heart-shaped face. Full lips, a button shaped nose, and high cheekbones give a proud, if playful, profile. The shadows of the blemishes of her teenage years also dot her face, almost as freckles. Her skin is a sandy, golden brown, tinged with the shades of all of her family, tanning well is trait gifted from ancestry. Upper back length, coffee black hair frames it all, weal curls the longer it stretches down. Atop her head, rests a blue-black woolen cap-- a memento from childhood.
Physically, Chae is unassuming. She's tall for a woman, sure, able to meet the eyes of most men without needing to look up. But she isn't physically frightening. Time spent walking has given her legs more tone, sure, but generally, her upper body is somewhere between 'skinnyfat' and 'starving.' Her figure is one that is well proportioned, but her bust is several sizes below average. Black tattoos pollute the lengths of her arms as well as her belly and back, all relating vaguely to the Arcana, Theosophy, magic, numerology, hip hop, and poetry.
Physically, Chae is unassuming. She's tall for a woman, sure, able to meet the eyes of most men without needing to look up. But she isn't physically frightening. Time spent walking has given her legs more tone, sure, but generally, her upper body is somewhere between 'skinnyfat' and 'starving.' Her figure is one that is well proportioned, but her bust is several sizes below average. Black tattoos pollute the lengths of her arms as well as her belly and back, all relating vaguely to the Arcana, Theosophy, magic, numerology, hip hop, and poetry.
Skill(s):
- Stealth
- Creative thinking
- Scavenging
- Speech (Very effective in dealing with people... the infected... not so much)
- Once drank an entire bottle of absinthe in one pull
Preferred Weapon(s):
- Improvisation (extreme/master proficiency)
- Broken bottles/Stilettos (Light, short range, thrusting or stabbing weapons) (above average proficiency)
- Revolvers/Handguns (Small guns) (average/low proficiency)
Personality: Chae is someone who, at her core, loves life, and loves loving things in life. Generally unconcerned with pursuing the same worldly pleasures as most found themselves chasing before the apocalypse. Chae was, more or less, a bum, less out of laziness, and more out only being truly concerned with her passions, and what made her happy. Still, even then she was full of self doubt, loathing and depression. She feels abandonment easy and tries not to stay too close to anyone, even people she considers friends. While some of these traits have helped her vastly since the Fall, other have proved ideologically detrimental. And occasional bouts of depression, stemming from many things, such as her surroundings and her undressed psychological issues, occasionally leave her so lethargic and apathetic she may be unable to move.
Chae, like the music she loves, is an ocean of beautiful emotional meaning and variability, melancholic and bangers. At her best, she's a clever, sarcastic, and pleasant idea woman who'll just as soon hit on everyone in a room as she would throw up her Wu-Tang 'W.' At her worst, she can be an unresponsive, vulnerable wreck, defined by her own insecurities and baggage.
Brief Bio:
Yesterday
"Uuuggggggggghhhhhhhhhh..." Chae's girlish groan polluted the semi-humid, still swamp. She and her companion walked, a lone pair on a road that seemed to go on forever, itself only polluted by abandoned cars and the occasional town. Atlanta was a long way away now, and most of the journey getting to Louisiana on foot. However, in spite of this, or perhaps because of it, Chae was prone to extreme bouts of ennui, all while avoiding the roaming hordes.
A roll of the eyes came from the man who walked by her side, something that sounded like the bastard child of a sigh and a dry chuckle escaped his lips. As if preempting his response, Chae spoke beyond a strained onomatopoeia.
"Dude, I'm sooooo bored!" She rolled her head back, as if to declare it to the sky, "God, why did you have to make the apocalypse so boring?"
The man smiled, settling on silent laughter, "Just chill, Chi chi," He spoke in a deep, Latin tinged voice, "You'll wake the nzumbi."
She scoffed, "'Least that'd be something, Chito..." after a moment, she gave a resigned sigh, "No, you're right... you're totally right." She kicked a pebble off the road as they continued on, "So then, how much further now?"
With practiced speed, Chito adjusted his back pack, maintained his pace, and pulled out a very worn looking road map. After darting his eyes between points on the map and road signs for several minutes, he folded the paper and put it back in it's pocket just as fast. His shrug was both ecstatically happy and completely nonchalant, after weeks, months... however long they had been at it.... Chae was beginning to recognize how completely subdued the man's emotions were. "If it's accurate..." he began, "And we maintain this pace..." he said, a tone of playful remembrance, "I guess we might make to Baton Rouge before night."
"Really?" Chae, on the other hand, wanted to express her excitement by practically breaking into a jog, "This!" She started, accessing the innards of her own backpack with equally practiced skill, "Calls for a drink!" As if it was the last of it's kind, Chae held the bottle of Jack Daniels towards the sun.
"I'll pass." Was Chito's quick response.
Chae smirked, a 'you don't know what you're missing' type smirk. She wasted no time in uncapping the bottle-- three swigs-- a toast. A toast to days spent walking from one city in Louisiana to the next and even longer spent getting from Atlanta to where they were now. That familiar pleasant warmth filled her body. Everything felt just a tiny bit more spaced out.
"You're gonna get us killed, Chi chi."
Chae, without speaking, simply gave her traveling companion a wink bordering on coy.
~~~
A Few Days Before It All Came Apart
Chae hated this.
Her demeanor seemed to cast a generally disheveled aura upon the room, letting her feelings known to the mousey University students that seemed to surround her. Freshmen no doubt. Her presence had to be a dominating force to them-- as she sat, legs crossed, all the emotion of fiery Latin Bonita coupled with the hangover of said Bonita's husband on a siesta-- of course, there was also the anxiety that came with piling into a cramped financial aid office.
The room was painted a dreadfully 'calming' blue, that only seemed to give strength to Chae's beating migraine. Around her, in hard plastic seats, were students of GSU, each more nervous than the next. Despite that, there was a hope to their youthful angst that Chae envied. She wasn't much older than them-- but even at her age with her debt and demeanor, she was, compared to them, an absolute failure.
A bankrupt, lazy, sexy failure. She would correct herself.
Lined against a single wall, the students, young or not, were only given two options in their waiting room purgatory; SLEEP- which, while appealing, carried with it the risk missing your name being called. Or WATCH TV- Which presented itself as the only real option of the two. On now was the news, they were doing some live report on some new, hyper-rare sickness or something. The hangover continued to bump against Chae's skull.
Every few minutes, a woman's voice would DRONE over an intercom that sounded inches away from death. She would announce some name, and with clockwork precision, one of the students ahead of her would stand and walk towards a darkened hallway, as if the financial aid advisers were a guillotine.
Functionally, they were!
~~~
The Day It All Returned To Nothing
I know, I know I've let you down,
I've been a fool to myself,
I thought that I could,
live for no one else,
"Halmonee!?"
Chae was seriously beginning to panic. She was practically running from room to room in the old creaky house, screaming for her grandmother. The woman who had, essentially, let jobless, permanently sophomoric Chae live with her, rent free, for the past 7 years. Five Points was just on the outskirts of Downtown Atlanta-- but even here, already, chaos was beginning to break.
But now through all the hurt and pain,
Its time for me to respect,
the ones you love,
mean more than anything.
A panting Chae ran past a TV in the rustic living room, once something of an artist's pad, it now existed in a state of discord. The only functioning appliance in the house being a TV-- between bouts of static, the monotone, robotic message urged citizens to seek shelter in Atlanta.
A derisive scoff was all it got in reply from Chae, busying herself with packing in between frantic cries fro her grandmother. Atlanta would be a death wish; she'd seen them, people with the infection, the monsters that they become, she couldn't deal with that-- not right now. The tears were still warm in her eyes just thinking of the sight.
So with sadness in my heart,
I feel the best thing I could do,
is end it all,
and leave forever,
whats done is done, it feels so bad,
what once was happy now is sad,
I'll never love again,
my world is ending...
I feel the best thing I could do,
is end it all,
and leave forever,
whats done is done, it feels so bad,
what once was happy now is sad,
I'll never love again,
my world is ending...
No. Atlanta, other people, that would be bad. They needed to run away-- A few of her friends from GSU had agreed, between them all, she'd managed to organize a weird impromptu escape plan. She had family in Tybee Island. They could get there fine with a group of 10ish people, as long as everyone pitched in for gas. A few days south would be enough time for the WHO or the government or whatever to get everything in order.
Right?
I wish that I could turn back time
'cause now the guilt is all mine
can't live without the trust from those you love.
I know we can't forget the past
you can't forget love and pride
because of that it's killing me inside
'cause now the guilt is all mine
can't live without the trust from those you love.
I know we can't forget the past
you can't forget love and pride
because of that it's killing me inside
They all had needed little convincing to go pack. Chae didn't exactly have faith in the government to keep her best interests in mind through this. They never had. But there were more upstanding citizens than she at risk in all of this! Good people! And not just half-baked anarchists-- like actual law abiding, tax paying citizens. They had to try to resolve this in a few days. If her enlisted entourage was fast and they were all lucky getting out, they'd all be gone within the hour, Tybee before sunset, everything calmed down in a few weeks.
Now, if only she could find her grandmother...
"Halmonee!!!"
It all returns to nothing, it all comes
tumbling down, tumbling down,
tumbling down,
it all returns to nothing, I just keep
letting me down, letting me down,
letting me down,
in my heart of hearts,
I know that I could never love again
I've lost everything
everything, everything
that matters to me,
matters in this world
tumbling down, tumbling down,
tumbling down,
it all returns to nothing, I just keep
letting me down, letting me down,
letting me down,
in my heart of hearts,
I know that I could never love again
I've lost everything
everything, everything
that matters to me,
matters in this world
~~~
Chae stood silently. Sirens blared in the distance. People were yelling, different voices, different types of screams gliding all over her slight figure. Somewhere, something was on fire. Tears welled in her eyes, not from smoke, but from the sight in front of her.
A gentle breeze carried with it a foul stench. It brushed lightly against her skin, her hair loose wool on her hat blew with it as it passed.
I wish that I could turn back time
'cause now all the guilt is mine
can't live without
the trust from those you love
I know we can't forget the past
we can't forget love and pride
because of that, its killing me inside
'cause now all the guilt is mine
can't live without
the trust from those you love
I know we can't forget the past
we can't forget love and pride
because of that, its killing me inside
In front of her stood a woman, clawing at shrubbery, in a small backyard.
It used to be her backyard, the womans. The woman was now, however, a mere shell. Chae still saw in it the woman... her grandmother... her halmonee. The eccentric Puerto Rican-Korean woman who had, essentially, let jobless, permanently sophomoric Chae live with her, rent free, for the past 7 years...
"...H-halmonee?" Chae's voice quivered, taking a tentative a tentative step forward, she laughing nervously to avoid addressing the reality, if even a little bit long, "Hey... Halmonee? C'mon. Let's..."
A growl came as the woman turned. Wrinkled arms appeared to be covered in lacerations and bite marks, equally wrinkled skin was as pale a curdled milk. Chae's eyes, filled with tears fighting to gush met those of the woman who was once her grandmother, freshly soulless. The infection drove the shell of the old woman forward, that low growl that once used to be the voice of her grandmother pushed her over the edge.
Chae fell to her knees.
It all returns to nothing, it all comes,
tumbling down, tumbling down,
tumbling down,
it all returns to nothing, I just keep,
letting me down, letting me down,
letting me down,
It all returns to nothing, it all comes
tumbling down, tumbling down,
tumbling down,
it all returns to nothing, I just keep,
letting me down, letting me down,
letting me down,
tumbling down, tumbling down,
tumbling down,
it all returns to nothing, I just keep,
letting me down, letting me down,
letting me down,
It all returns to nothing, it all comes
tumbling down, tumbling down,
tumbling down,
it all returns to nothing, I just keep,
letting me down, letting me down,
letting me down,
~~~
~~~
~~~
Chae Ji Ryeŏn, before the apocalypse, is an unassuming 26 year old college student. She lives with her halmonee (grandmother), is jobless, is failing classes and is horribly in debt thanks to years of barely earning FAFSA loans. She has friends, but chooses to spend most of her time pursuing artistic or musical interests or simply becoming intoxicated, one way or another.
Jobless, skilless, and depressed. A few days before the chaos, Chae sees a news report talking about the a new, extremely contagious and fatal 'mystery virus.' She doesn't pay it much attention, and instead turns her attention to her throbbing hangover, and the lack of initiative she feels when approaching modern education.
A few days later, utter bedlam strikes as the virus known to Chae as 'the infection' begins spread fast across metropolitan Atlanta. The military sends out messages to all local broadcasting stations asking citizens to calmly head to quarantine and safety zones in downtown Atlanta. Chae's mistrust of the military and government prompts her to organize her own escape route with some students from GSU. She has family in Tybee Island they can spend a few days with while things settle down.
It is on this journey that Chae meets Miguel 'Chito' Evans-- he saves her from being bitten by her own infected Grandmother, and the pair begin to form a friendship. The journey to Tybee takes longer than expected, almost 2 days, but the group arrives to find the small community is in a worse state than Atlanta. The group survives, and gather supplies and Intel (both at Chae's insistence) for several days. The city is heavily deserted-- and while most people seem friendly enough at day, marauders have already begun to roam the streets at night.
Chae's family (as did most) fled from Tybee after day one. She isn't that concerned about their well being, although she does wonder what her next move should be. The group splinters, and Chito, the quiet, mysterious freshman has family in Louisiana and Haiti, and suggests the pair head to Baton Rouge. She agrees and they say farewell to the remains of the GSU group.
Chito's raw strength and calm demeanor and Chae's inventiveness and fast talking have generally kept the pair alive and out of trouble. Avoiding the hordes of infected, and surviving mostly off of small towns, abandoned cars and fallen survivors, their journey thus far has been long and difficult. They approach the Louisianan city less with the hopes of finding Chito's family, and more with the hopes of finding a place to settle down in...
Jobless, skilless, and depressed. A few days before the chaos, Chae sees a news report talking about the a new, extremely contagious and fatal 'mystery virus.' She doesn't pay it much attention, and instead turns her attention to her throbbing hangover, and the lack of initiative she feels when approaching modern education.
A few days later, utter bedlam strikes as the virus known to Chae as 'the infection' begins spread fast across metropolitan Atlanta. The military sends out messages to all local broadcasting stations asking citizens to calmly head to quarantine and safety zones in downtown Atlanta. Chae's mistrust of the military and government prompts her to organize her own escape route with some students from GSU. She has family in Tybee Island they can spend a few days with while things settle down.
It is on this journey that Chae meets Miguel 'Chito' Evans-- he saves her from being bitten by her own infected Grandmother, and the pair begin to form a friendship. The journey to Tybee takes longer than expected, almost 2 days, but the group arrives to find the small community is in a worse state than Atlanta. The group survives, and gather supplies and Intel (both at Chae's insistence) for several days. The city is heavily deserted-- and while most people seem friendly enough at day, marauders have already begun to roam the streets at night.
Chae's family (as did most) fled from Tybee after day one. She isn't that concerned about their well being, although she does wonder what her next move should be. The group splinters, and Chito, the quiet, mysterious freshman has family in Louisiana and Haiti, and suggests the pair head to Baton Rouge. She agrees and they say farewell to the remains of the GSU group.
Chito's raw strength and calm demeanor and Chae's inventiveness and fast talking have generally kept the pair alive and out of trouble. Avoiding the hordes of infected, and surviving mostly off of small towns, abandoned cars and fallen survivors, their journey thus far has been long and difficult. They approach the Louisianan city less with the hopes of finding Chito's family, and more with the hopes of finding a place to settle down in...
~~~
Name: Moksha 'Moki' Ryeŏn
Age: >1 yr
Skill:
- Is cat
Preferred Weapon(s):
- Mouth
- Claws
Personality: Meow.
Brief Bio: Was born a few months ago.
Momma cat died protecting him from desperate walkers.
Is basically Black Panther.
~~~
Name: Miguel 'Chito' Evans
Age: 17
Appearance: With the muscles of an amateur wrestler and the height of statue, Chito is just one of those guys you don't want to piss off in a small room. Training regiments derived from a military family and high school sports trainers looking to see their boy earn his sports scholarship a year early, his body is still toned-- with more than few fresh scars gained from dealing with the nzumbi head on...
Skill:
- Considerable physical strength
- Remaining calm in stressful situations
- Remaining calm in pretty much any situation
Preferred Weapon(s):
- Hand-to-hand (extremely proficient)
- Handguns/Rifles (Medium sized guns) (average/good proficiency)
- Improvisation (below average proficiency)
Personality: Chito is a man of few words-- and fittingly, as is an easy description of his personality; Although he's young, he's cool, calm, and collected.
Brief Bio: (See tl;dr)
"I dunno, an apocalypse wouldn't be too bad... Hey! If they're dead, then you don't have to pay your debts, right...? Sign me up."
Name: Chae Ji Ryeŏn
Age: 40
Appearance: Although varied at 1/2 Korean, 1/4th Vietnamese, and 1/4 Puerto Rican, Chae's ancestry doesn't exactly spell out 'melting pot,' but still, mesh together well with her own sense of fashion, to form a woman who possesses a very smokey, dark beauty.
Soft, almost black, almond-shaped eyes serve as the centerpiece of a porcelain, heart-shaped face. Full lips, a button shaped nose, and high cheekbones give a proud, if playful, profile. The shadows of the blemishes of her teenage years also dot her face, almost as freckles. Her skin is a sandy, golden brown, tinged with the shades of all of her family, tanning well is trait gifted from ancestry. Upper back length, coffee black hair frames it all, weal curls the longer it stretches down. Drawing attention away from it all, is a white medical eye patch-- forever a reminder of her eye, lost to the grasping hands of the dead.
Physically, Chae is unassuming. She's tall for a woman, sure, able to meet the eyes of most men without needing to look up. But she isn't physically frightening. Time spent walking has given her legs more tone, sure, but generally, her upper body is somewhere between 'skinnyfat' and 'starving.' Her figure is one that is well proportioned, but her bust is several sizes below average. Black tattoos pollute the lengths of her arms as well as her belly and back, all relating vaguely to the Arcana, Theosophy, magic, numerology, hip hop, and poetry.
Physically, Chae is unassuming. She's tall for a woman, sure, able to meet the eyes of most men without needing to look up. But she isn't physically frightening. Time spent walking has given her legs more tone, sure, but generally, her upper body is somewhere between 'skinnyfat' and 'starving.' Her figure is one that is well proportioned, but her bust is several sizes below average. Black tattoos pollute the lengths of her arms as well as her belly and back, all relating vaguely to the Arcana, Theosophy, magic, numerology, hip hop, and poetry.
Skill(s):
- Stealth
- Limited medicine/First Aid
- Speech (Very effective in dealing with people... the infected... not so much)
Preferred Weapon(s):
- Speech (extreme/master proficiency)
- Improvisation (extreme/master proficiency)
- Broken bottles/Knives (Light, short range, thrusting or stabbing weapons) (above average proficiency)
Personality: Chae is someone who, at her core, loves life, and loves loving things in life. Generally unconcerned with pursuing the same worldly pleasures as most found themselves chasing before the apocalypse. Chae was, more or less, a bum, less out of laziness, and more out only being truly concerned with her passions, and what made her happy. Still, even then she was full of self doubt, loathing and depression. She feels abandonment easy and tries not to stay too close to anyone, even people she considers friends.
While some of these traits have helped her vastly since the Fall, other have proved ideologically detrimental. She suffers occasional bouts of psychosis, stemming from many things, such as her surroundings and her undressed psychological issues, occasionally leave her so lethargic and apathetic she may be unable to move.
Chae, at her best, is a clever, sarcastic, and pleasant idea woman who'll just as soon hit on everyone in a room as she would throw up her Wu-Tang 'W.' At her worst, she can be an unresponsive, vulnerable wreck, defined by her own insecurities and baggage.
Character History: Chae, before the fall, was the typical 21st century tragic office drone; smart enough to comprehend her own shortcomings as a person as well as the soul crushing reality of modern day capitalism, but not smart enough to do anything about it. Her peers often perceived her as standoffish, and she can come off as detached because of this, often seeming to actively be trying to escape reality. Her history can be summed up simply-- she had been working as a nurse for DWB. Before that? She dropped out of University right before she could attain a Master's degree due to her own philosophical differences with local Seattle government, as a protest. Before that? She actually did things to help people, training to become a nurse, and getting to go and help Doctors Without Borders. Before that? Childhood. And before that? She was born in some American military base in Germany and raised, often moving around, on the West Coat/Pacific Northwest.
At University age, she utilized a scholarship and dutifully attended the UCLA, it was there that she discovered her interests in medicine and talking to people. After earning some early accolades in her academic career for assisting with very lucrative lab trials from the university, she received another scholarship that allowed her to attend several medical schools all over America, and sit in. Although her scholarships were full, their conditions left little room for error, combined with an already reserved and serious nature-- she found little time for socialization-- something deeply troubling to her. Still, by the age of 21, Chae had earned her degree, although her specialties (General practice, Cardiology and Hematology), would mean another 8 years of residency and fellowships. She instead opted to take her time-- something the school board found unacceptable-- but the nurses she volunteered with, found miraculous. This time was spent "island hopping," taking advantage of her medical credentials, she spent her time not attending classes, but instead learning about nursing, receiving training from some of the best nurses.
This reprise and period of self-discovery prompted her to actively rebel against the school board. Chae's rather plain life needed a change, and she decided to actively make a change, being aptly qualified, she joined Médecins Sans Frontières, to put her skills to use in the world as a whole. In a way she felt many doctors never would. While still acting under the scrutiny of a traditionalist system, and using her work to fill up her void of a social life, she found the exciting and morally rewarding life fun, and was happy.
She even found, in the doctors she acted as a nurse to, companionship and romantic relationships. This, of course, was until the Fall. Médecins Sans Frontières were among the first response groups when it came to aid and attempted medical treatment, with Chae, in her home region, on the front lines. She was exposed to the plague first hand, and saw the chaos it created-- someone like her, an overqualified not-quite-doctor-in-training who had come into close contact without dying-- but lost an eye to gain all the wisdom she'd need.
She's learned how to survive and has become something of an odd duck since the fall-- seeing fighting as the last option possible for her. She continues to hone her skills as one of the few medically trained people left. She's come to rely on groups, and has with her, a kitten, who's life she recently saved.
Name: Moksha 'Moki' Ryeŏn
Age: >1 yr
Skill:
- Is cat
Preferred Weapon(s):
- Mouth
- Claws
Personality: Meow.
Brief Bio: Was born a few months ago.
Momma cat died protecting him from desperate walkers.
Is basically Black Panther.
roleplayerguild.com/topics/78659-amon…
OP
Gender identity issues: The character
Username: Marinette Bwa'Chech
Title: "The Based"
Gender:
Race: Esquen
Class: Freelancer
Level: 5
Stat Build:
Skills:
+Stealth
+General Agility (acrobatics, gymnastics, free running, and parkour)
+Basic Magical Telekinetic Combat
+Survival
+Poison Making
Equipment (Body):
Equipment (Weapons):
Pet: An Esquen Cobra named 'Anima Sola.'
---
Character Appearance:
Body.
Face.
Title: "The Based"
Gender:
- In-game: Female[/*]
Race: Esquen
Class: Freelancer
Level: 5
Stat Build:
- STR: 1, Considerably low.[/*]
- FOC: 7, Above average, on equal grounds with AGI. The points taken out of STR were put into this stat.[/*]
- AGI: 7, Above average, on equal grounds with FOC. The points taken out of STR were put into this stat.[/*]
Skills:
+Stealth
+General Agility (acrobatics, gymnastics, free running, and parkour)
+Basic Magical Telekinetic Combat
+Survival
+Poison Making
Equipment (Body):
- Head: (Keffiyeh, Level 0, named 'Vagabond's Keffiyeh': Standard item for any Esquen, aids with survival in the desert. Can only be equipped in combat or in desert/desert-like environments. Increased perception in sandstorms.)[/*]
- Face: (Make-up, Level 4, named 'La Máscara de la Muerte': Remain undetected by undead or unholy creatures.)[/*]
- Ear: (Hair decoration, Level 1, named 'Rose's Axel': A non-stat boosting aesthetic item, allows the player to port their own music into Paradise. In game can serve as either headphones or a speaker.)[/*]
- Neck: (Scarf, Level 0, named 'Vagabond's Spare': Always have a spare in case of emergency! Provides some protection against harsh desert sands.)[/*]
- Chest: (Light armor, Level 4, named 'Desert Long Tunic': Great all purpose light armor that consists of a weave of leather straps and a light-colored long tunic. Protects chest and arms.)[/*]
- Right Arm: (Pauldron, Level 4, named 'Comedy': Increases STR)[/*]
- Left Arm: (Pauldron, Level 4, named 'Tragedy': Increases AGI)[/*]
- Left hand: (Glove, Level 3, named 'Glove of the pharaoh': Slightly increase FOC)[/*]
- Right Hand: (Glove, Level 3, named 'Glove of the pharaoh': Slightly increase FOC)[/*]
- Right Finger: (N/A) [/*]
- Left Finger: (Ring, Level 5, named 'Friends on the Other Side': Once a day, summon an undead [skeleton, draught, zombie, ghost, or Frankensteinian abomination] creature at half your level to do your bidding for you. The creature will disappear if it survives until the end of the day or if it's killed in battle.)[/*]
- Waist: (Belt, Level 2, named 'Mistal belt': Loot retrieved from a fallen, low level boss. It provides bonuses to AGI when health drops below 40%)[/*]
- Legs: (Pants, Level 0, named 'Vagabond's trousers': Standard item for any Esquen, aids with survival in the desert. Slight bonus to running.) [/*]
- Right ankle: (N/A)[/*]
- Left Ankle: (N/A)[/*]
- Feet: (Boots, Level 3, named 'Roc's boots': Leather boots with an exterior covered in a downy layer of Roc feathers. These boots enable the use of feather fall once a day. "You got Roc's boots! You feel light as a feather!")[/*]
- Misc.: (Bracelet, Level 0, named 'Serpent's bond': A bracelet in the style of a snake curling up the wearer's arm, it is metallic and appears to be digging into the wearer's arm and fusing with their flesh. Serpent's bond ties it's users soul and life force with an animal companion. In exchange for this, the wearer is given some abilities and bonuses of the creature (poison resistance, stealth).)[/*]
Equipment (Weapons):
- Primary Weapon: (Magic, Level 0 - 5, 'Basic magic': -- )[/*]
- Secondary Weapon: (Ranged, Level 3, 'Beginner's crossbow (foldable)': A very basic crossbow, it can folded down and hidden very easily. This ease of stealth significantly takes away from it's attacking power.)[/*]
- Spare Weapon #1: (Dagger, Level 2, 'Poisoned Dagger': A low level dagger that has been coated in Esquen Cobra venom.)[/*]
- Spare Weapon #1: (Mace, Level 1, 'Scorpio's tail': A lighter, more sharpened mace weapon, made from the carapace of a giant scorpion. While much faster to swing, it takes a penalty to raw attacking power.)[/*]
Pet: An Esquen Cobra named 'Anima Sola.'
---
Character Appearance:
Body. Face.Real Name: Ernest 'Ness' Lackyn
Age: 21
Gender:
Personality: Ernesto is a secretive and quiet individual, preferring to talk about non-sense or others than of his own self, you would never know if he was doing poorly on a given day. A symptom of this is a tendency to lie to avoid the possibility of others feeling concern for him. His entire life Ness walked on eggshells, this gives the impression that he isn't particularly comfortable in his own skin, just being who he is.
In Paradise, however, Ness, as Marinette is a much more open individual, while still prone to secrets and obfuscating the truth to avoid conflict, he finds sharing his own opinions and interests much more possible. As the avatar Ness has an easier way with people, and even develops something of a snarky sense of humor. Marinette acts more confident than Ness, and gives the impression of confidence and even cockiness. Ness' appreciation of mythology and vodou is much more pronounced when acting as Marinette, often using the Loa as descriptors for certain situations, items or enemies-- even going so far as to pray to them.
Background: An Afro-Mexican child born out of wedlock, Ernest was raised in southern California by a single mother and, surrounded by poverty and crime, Ness found himself very easily immersed in the culture and comfort of video games and false reality. School for Ness was less 'do your best' and more 'get by with whatever works so you can go home and play more video games.' While never being particularly isolationist or avoidant, his personality appeared on the surface to be standoffish and even arrogant, earning contempt from his peers that he perceived as no fault of his own. Ness didn't make any make any real friends until high school, when he was exposed to the anime and video game clubs of SoCal, through them he was able to vastly expand his tastes and options of games he could play. He would also go on to form the first long lasting non-familial relationships in his life.
Finding pleasure in gaming and the companionship he found through gaming, Ness became inspired to begin animating through high school and eventually found himself going to art school through a scholarship, something his mother of little means never thought was possible. Now an intern at a small San Francisco game developing company, he has begun to work freelance in television and internet animation-- despite it all though, through working through the isolation of his youth and growth thanks to exposure to like minds, two things have remained consistent about him; his love of his Mother and all the things she taught him about Vodou and syncretic religions, and his childlike enjoyment of video games, especially mmorpgs.
Paradise, then, soon became his new addiction after it's release. He was one of the first in line on launch and has practically based his life around having enough free time to play the game. Initially he started playing mostly solo or with his friends in real life, eventually however, he developed bonds with other players in the game, finding it easier to 'be open' with them.
Appearance:
Age: 21
Gender:
- Biological:Assumed Male (Gender fluid)[/*]
Personality: Ernesto is a secretive and quiet individual, preferring to talk about non-sense or others than of his own self, you would never know if he was doing poorly on a given day. A symptom of this is a tendency to lie to avoid the possibility of others feeling concern for him. His entire life Ness walked on eggshells, this gives the impression that he isn't particularly comfortable in his own skin, just being who he is.
In Paradise, however, Ness, as Marinette is a much more open individual, while still prone to secrets and obfuscating the truth to avoid conflict, he finds sharing his own opinions and interests much more possible. As the avatar Ness has an easier way with people, and even develops something of a snarky sense of humor. Marinette acts more confident than Ness, and gives the impression of confidence and even cockiness. Ness' appreciation of mythology and vodou is much more pronounced when acting as Marinette, often using the Loa as descriptors for certain situations, items or enemies-- even going so far as to pray to them.
Background: An Afro-Mexican child born out of wedlock, Ernest was raised in southern California by a single mother and, surrounded by poverty and crime, Ness found himself very easily immersed in the culture and comfort of video games and false reality. School for Ness was less 'do your best' and more 'get by with whatever works so you can go home and play more video games.' While never being particularly isolationist or avoidant, his personality appeared on the surface to be standoffish and even arrogant, earning contempt from his peers that he perceived as no fault of his own. Ness didn't make any make any real friends until high school, when he was exposed to the anime and video game clubs of SoCal, through them he was able to vastly expand his tastes and options of games he could play. He would also go on to form the first long lasting non-familial relationships in his life.
Finding pleasure in gaming and the companionship he found through gaming, Ness became inspired to begin animating through high school and eventually found himself going to art school through a scholarship, something his mother of little means never thought was possible. Now an intern at a small San Francisco game developing company, he has begun to work freelance in television and internet animation-- despite it all though, through working through the isolation of his youth and growth thanks to exposure to like minds, two things have remained consistent about him; his love of his Mother and all the things she taught him about Vodou and syncretic religions, and his childlike enjoyment of video games, especially mmorpgs.
Paradise, then, soon became his new addiction after it's release. He was one of the first in line on launch and has practically based his life around having enough free time to play the game. Initially he started playing mostly solo or with his friends in real life, eventually however, he developed bonds with other players in the game, finding it easier to 'be open' with them.
Appearance:
☹ ("Enemies")
☺ ("Friends")
✧ ("BFFs")
♪ ("Neutral")
♡ ("Could Be Something More ~")
---
✧/♡ Prince: "Sleeps a little much, but he's one of the first people I met online here-- and he's pretty much always on to talk about whatever or just listen. A real bro."
✧ Cynthia: "
♪ Marinette: "I kind of am just neutral towards myself-- and the music note is most fitting when placed next to my name."
✧/♡ cattypea: "NO I'm not into furries that's weird, she just seems like an alright person is all.."
☺ Mantam: "A radical dame who likes to play games, we haven't really gotten to know each other though."
✧ Hazard: "Ayyy. True homie 4 Lyfe. We ride together we die together. Mythos represent."
☹/☺/♡ Grey: "Not in a bad way, we're more like... friendly rivals. We're both sneaky and non-conventional, just on opposite sides of the spectrum. Also his class is awful and I'm better than him in pretty much every way imaginable."
☺ Raijin: "Seems alright, haven't gotten much 1 on 1 time though."
☹ Deathedge: "2edgy4me"
✧ CherryLover: "She's like the little sister I never needed, but always wanted."
---
How long has your character been playing the game? "Few days after release, it was the prize of a design contest they had at school-- and I happened to win"
How long has this particular "character" been in the game? "Since I got the system itself."
How long have they been a part of the group? "About a month?"
Who invited them to the group? "Cynthia. Without knowing it we ended up co-oping on a quest, and it saved us both a few hours. She asked if I wanted to be part of a theoretical clan, I told her 'theoretically,' she said welcome aboard."
Who, from the group, did they meet first? "Hazard, actually. Although Cynthia and Prince were the first people I had extended conversations with"
☺ ("Friends")
✧ ("BFFs")
♪ ("Neutral")
♡ ("Could Be Something More ~")
---
✧/♡ Prince: "Sleeps a little much, but he's one of the first people I met online here-- and he's pretty much always on to talk about whatever or just listen. A real bro."
✧ Cynthia: "
♪ Marinette: "I kind of am just neutral towards myself-- and the music note is most fitting when placed next to my name."
✧/♡ cattypea: "NO I'm not into furries that's weird, she just seems like an alright person is all.."
☺ Mantam: "A radical dame who likes to play games, we haven't really gotten to know each other though."
✧ Hazard: "Ayyy. True homie 4 Lyfe. We ride together we die together. Mythos represent."
☹/☺/♡ Grey: "Not in a bad way, we're more like... friendly rivals. We're both sneaky and non-conventional, just on opposite sides of the spectrum. Also his class is awful and I'm better than him in pretty much every way imaginable."
☺ Raijin: "Seems alright, haven't gotten much 1 on 1 time though."
☹ Deathedge: "2edgy4me"
✧ CherryLover: "She's like the little sister I never needed, but always wanted."
---
How long has your character been playing the game? "Few days after release, it was the prize of a design contest they had at school-- and I happened to win"
How long has this particular "character" been in the game? "Since I got the system itself."
How long have they been a part of the group? "About a month?"
Who invited them to the group? "Cynthia. Without knowing it we ended up co-oping on a quest, and it saved us both a few hours. She asked if I wanted to be part of a theoretical clan, I told her 'theoretically,' she said welcome aboard."
Who, from the group, did they meet first? "Hazard, actually. Although Cynthia and Prince were the first people I had extended conversations with"
Other:Marinette is almost always listening to music.
OP
Name: Jō'deci
- (Jō is a formal Lapine title, Deci is the rabbit's preferred and birth name, literally meaning 'Old Thousand Twice' in Lapine)
Age: 3 + 2/4 yr (Lapine years)
Appearance: Deci is a small bunny. Her brown fur has a golden gleam to it, her antlers are literally golden and her feathers have a bronze shine. Her body is covered in sweet Lapine tribal tattoos. Her reddish brown eyes hold the expression and anger of over-four (this means infinite in Lapine) bunnies.
Species: Winged Jackalope, Lapine
Personality: The teachers at Bunny School would always ask the kits what they wanted to do with their lives. Whenever they got around to Deci, the runtiest of them all, she would always squeak her answer by quoting some song, typically saying something along the lines of "I just want to get my dick sucked and multiply them zeros!" Teachers would then ask her if she knew what that meant, and she'd usually respond that it had to be something about sugar cubes. The older Lapines would then assume the days old bunny must know what she's talking about and move on.
That is the kind of bunny Deci is.
Deci is outspoken, confident, and cocky, to the point that her hip-hop inspired braggadocios might be seen as megalomania. Her deep appreciation for the intricacies of Lapine culture also influence each action and thought she has, and she has a tendency to slip into speaking Lapine mid sentence. She see's herself and her species as superior to those around her and this may bleed over through clear superiority issues with filthy non-rabbits. Her appreciation for music may also lead to her speaking in iambic pentameter composed entirely of song lyrics. Or just plain freestyle.
You should check her mixtape on Myspace, it drops pretty soon.
Likes:
- Lapine pride/mythology
- Lapine virgins
- Flying
- Urban poetry
- Spitting straight bars of fire
- Music
- Grass (both kinds)
- Lettuce (both kinds)
- Sugar
- Green veggies
- The 80's and 90's
- Fat $tack$
- Getting high and doing gangster shit with her homies
Neutral Opinion:
- Orange veggies
- Red veggies
- Blue veggies
- White veggies
- Purple veggies
- Neutral Milk Hotel
Dislikes:
- Being a Lapine deity
- Having antlers
- Wolves
- Snakes
- Parasitic or poisonous insects or arachnids
- Animals that do not fall under the category 'Lapine'
- Talk radio
- Tasks that require patience
- Haters
- The loss of said fat $tack$
History: Apparently, at some point in her quest for lettuce (both the monetary kind and the vegetable kind) she somehow managed to become embroiled in the middle of a battle between the trickster deity El-ahrairah, his foil Prince Rainbow, and the personification of death itself, the Black Rabbit of Inlé.
After entire weeks of cleverly navigating quests and trials both epic and terrifying, and facing the gods and these challenges with courage and aplomb, the bright Lapine god, Frith, the one above all, granted Deci with seat in the Lapine pantheon, as Jō'deci, the 'Golden Two Stacks.'
Maybe?
In all honesty, Deci wasn't paying much attention as it all happened. She just knows she doesn't fit in with her tribe at the warren ever since she became a golden winged jackalope. All in all it hasn't been a very Gucci experience. Would not recommend.
Other: n/a
roleplayerguild.com/topics/77515-open…
OP
Writing Liberian accents is pain.
Name: Tyler Sacha Cardwell (pronounced SA-SHA), "Doc"
Age:
Ethnicity/Birth Place: Liberian-Jamaican, Born in Monrovia, Liberia; raised in the US, Jamaica and Liberia
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Standing at roughly 6 feet tall, Tyler is certainly an imposing figure. When he was younger his form was almost all muscle, this has changed some with age, while still well muscled, his body is beginning to show signs of age, no doubt 200 years of cryostasis have contributed to some atrophy. His locks, when untied, reach just shy of halfway down his back and show little signs of graying.
Personality: Tyler is a pragmatist. He was raised by strict parents with very real financial restraints, as such, he was taught young to remember he was blessed to have what little he was given, and that it would be a sin to waste any of it. Although his religious views may have changed with time, the ideology that waste and needless consumption are bad things have stayed with him. He is easily consumed by his work and adopts a very serious persona while chipping away at a project, even having the tendency to fill his idle time with busy work simply to avoid having nothing to do. He very easily represses any stress he may feel with a smile and has a tendency to lean toward isolationism. While he is a generally warm person, he uses work as a mechanism to avoid the dangers of companionship. He holds a belief in many old world forms of medical diagnoses and would best describe his personality as the temperaments Supine and Phlegmatic.
Biography: Tyler was born in Monrovia on August, 1st of 1990. Fortunate timing, his birth was exactly one month before the fighting of the First Liberian Civil War reached the city, and by August, 15th, his Jamaican father was able to arrange an escape from the country for himself, his newly wed wife, and his baby son. It took negotiations, but the young family was able to flee 5 days before September, the assassination of Samuel Doe, 5 days before fighting broke out in the streets of Monrovia and more armed conflict. Once the family settled, living with Tyler's fathers extended family in Jamaica, thankfully the rest of his first year of life was relatively peaceful. Growing up in the Caribbean exposed Tyler to the cultures of the world, in the form of tourists, dangers, such as hurricanes and a general lack of infrastructure in the country, and the wonders of the beautiful island. All of this was tempered by love and a strict upbringing from his parents, as well as a strong sense of duty instilled in him by his religious relatives.
While considering Jamaica a home, Liberia was also where half of his family lived, Jamaica may have been his father country, but Liberia was Tyler's motherland. That's why in 2005, at the age of 14, Tyler and his family moved back to Monrovia after the end of the Second Liberian Civil War and the first democratic election in the country's history. This shift, from veritable island paradise, to war torn city, greatly affected the young Tyler's perspective. Where in Jamaica he was more prone to loud outbursts, and tempered his chores with play time, the sudden culture shock of being exposed to what was literally a new country and new side of his family to him made him much more reserved. He began dedicating more of his time to the welfare of his family, and his country in general, becoming almost obsessed with community service whenever he wasn't utilizing whatever schooling was available.
At University age, he utilized a scholarship and dutifully attended the University of Liberia, it was there that he discovered his interest in medicine. After earning his Bachelor's from the African university, he received another scholarship that allowed him to attend medical school in America. Although his scholarships were full, their conditions left little room for error, combined with his already reserved and serious nature-- his secondary education was always the priority, he found little time for socialization. Still, by the age of 28, Tyler had earned his degree, although his specialties (General practice, Tropical medicine, Cardiology and Hematology), would mean another 8 years of residency and fellowships. This time was spent island hopping, taking advantage of his Jamaican citizenship, he spent his residency exploring the Caribbean, receiving training from some of the best doctor's in the field in Cuba, and actively practicing in some of the more remote regions of the islands. While still almost always 'at work,' this was the first point in a long time in Tyler's life he had received a real break from the constant focus on service to others, it was during this period that he made the discovery that he hadn't been living for himself since he was a young boy in Jamaica.
This reprise and period of self-discovery didn't last long however, at the request of aging family, he spent the last few years of his cardiology/hematology fellowship in Monrovia, taking care of aging family. This would continue until, at the age of 35, Tyler decided to actively make a change in his life, and being aptly qualified, he joined Médecins Sans Frontières, to put his skills to use in the region as a whole. While still acting under the scrutiny of a traditionalist family, and using his work to fill up his void of a social life, he found the exciting and morally rewarding life fun, and he was happy. He even found, in his fellow doctors, companionship and romantic relationships. This, of course, was until the plague got really bad. Médecins Sans Frontières were among the first response groups when it came to aid and attempted medical treatment, with Tyler on the front lines. He was exposed to the plague first hand, and saw the chaos it created-- someone like him, an overqualified doctor who had come into close contact without dying-- was invaluable, NASA contacted him about volunteering, having seen his colleagues die, and knowing his family was slowly dying, he went, having nothing left on Earth.
Old World Profession: Doctor; As a seasoned medic with Médecins Sans Frontières, Sacha is used to working efficiently with minimal or no equipment to treat severe injuries and ailments, working on or around battlefields has hardened him to the stresses associated with working in war-zone, and frequent under-financed work has also driven him to become quite resourceful when faced with injuries and dangerous situations.
Other: Has experience with the use of stealth on a battlefield.
Sample Post:
Gritty coughs came out of the phone speaker before that familiar, accented voice filled his ears, "I've been here my whole life, child..." it was the voice of his mother, a voice that held memories both good and bad, but in this moment, hearing her like this, with where he was headed, filled him with nothing but an incredibly potent sense of dread.
Absolute loss.
"Ma," Tyler began, he ran another red light while doing so, he was behind schedule, and he definitely didn't intend on being late for a space shuttle, there really weren't any other drivers to be worried about anyway, police even less so, "It'll be just like when I was a kid, just leave the city for a little bit and then come out when things cool down."
An uncomfortable pause. Tyler turned onto the freeway, just like the streets-- deserted. He was pretty sure the GPS still worked-- where were the other volunteers? Already there? He applied pressure to the peddle, he didn't need to pay attention to his speed, the freeway was desolate. In the distance he could see the rising structure that was the launch pad, the last week had been nothing but simulations and briefings. He was definitely ready for whatever came next, but that didn't stop the anxiety, Tyler supposed that was natural, 20 years of medical experience and he was about to become a human Popsicle in space. The exit would be coming up shortly...
His mother broke the silence. "We should have stood by our city..." More coughing. It was early stages of the plague. All he could do was identify it-- he couldn't help her, his mother, the woman who birthed him--
"Maybe we should have..." Tyler agreed idly, yawning unintentionally. He slowed down the generic rental as he approached the exit. He could see the spacecraft on the launchpad in the distance now, it was visually impressive. As well as intimidating. He drove slow as the car made it's way to the space center, the vehicle making the only sounds in the still dawn. As he chipped away at the distance between himself and the space center, he realized that this was probably his last opportunity to talk to her, his father and colleagues were dead and his family scattered, he had already made his peace and done his crying... But this? This was something more profound.
This was the last conversation of his old life.
"T-- you couldn't have stood!"
This got a chuckle out of him, "I know, Ma."
Another coughing fit, she sounded wearier after each word, "Still... I will stand by my city now... as your father does for his.."
"Yeah, Ma. Do it for me, too."
"S-such a good boy." She was wheezing with each breath now, she would pass out soon. "Finding the cure... so we can all be t-together... m-my son the doctor..." her voice trailed off. She had no clue what NASA actually wanted him for, she just assumed he was working hard for a cure, he didn't have the heart to tell her to abandon hop on her deathbed.
Didn't have the heart to tell her that he had failed.
"Ma?" worry filled his speech, he could see NASA scientists rushing toward his car to greet him, he would have to go soon, and she may have minutes of life-- or at least consciousness-- left, maybe even seconds. "Mom!?"
"Mmmm?" She was lackadaisical, nonchalant. She was almost out-- so much left unsaid, so many issues left unresolved-- and he had-- MAYBE seconds left. The car came to a stop in front of the Space center. He'd be lulled into unconsciousness in a manner of minutes too, the difference is that he'd only be gone for 50 years, she'd be gone forever.
"I love you, Ma."
Age:
- Biological - 39
- Actual - 239
Ethnicity/Birth Place: Liberian-Jamaican, Born in Monrovia, Liberia; raised in the US, Jamaica and Liberia
Gender: Male
Appearance:
Personality: Tyler is a pragmatist. He was raised by strict parents with very real financial restraints, as such, he was taught young to remember he was blessed to have what little he was given, and that it would be a sin to waste any of it. Although his religious views may have changed with time, the ideology that waste and needless consumption are bad things have stayed with him. He is easily consumed by his work and adopts a very serious persona while chipping away at a project, even having the tendency to fill his idle time with busy work simply to avoid having nothing to do. He very easily represses any stress he may feel with a smile and has a tendency to lean toward isolationism. While he is a generally warm person, he uses work as a mechanism to avoid the dangers of companionship. He holds a belief in many old world forms of medical diagnoses and would best describe his personality as the temperaments Supine and Phlegmatic.
Biography: Tyler was born in Monrovia on August, 1st of 1990. Fortunate timing, his birth was exactly one month before the fighting of the First Liberian Civil War reached the city, and by August, 15th, his Jamaican father was able to arrange an escape from the country for himself, his newly wed wife, and his baby son. It took negotiations, but the young family was able to flee 5 days before September, the assassination of Samuel Doe, 5 days before fighting broke out in the streets of Monrovia and more armed conflict. Once the family settled, living with Tyler's fathers extended family in Jamaica, thankfully the rest of his first year of life was relatively peaceful. Growing up in the Caribbean exposed Tyler to the cultures of the world, in the form of tourists, dangers, such as hurricanes and a general lack of infrastructure in the country, and the wonders of the beautiful island. All of this was tempered by love and a strict upbringing from his parents, as well as a strong sense of duty instilled in him by his religious relatives.
While considering Jamaica a home, Liberia was also where half of his family lived, Jamaica may have been his father country, but Liberia was Tyler's motherland. That's why in 2005, at the age of 14, Tyler and his family moved back to Monrovia after the end of the Second Liberian Civil War and the first democratic election in the country's history. This shift, from veritable island paradise, to war torn city, greatly affected the young Tyler's perspective. Where in Jamaica he was more prone to loud outbursts, and tempered his chores with play time, the sudden culture shock of being exposed to what was literally a new country and new side of his family to him made him much more reserved. He began dedicating more of his time to the welfare of his family, and his country in general, becoming almost obsessed with community service whenever he wasn't utilizing whatever schooling was available.
At University age, he utilized a scholarship and dutifully attended the University of Liberia, it was there that he discovered his interest in medicine. After earning his Bachelor's from the African university, he received another scholarship that allowed him to attend medical school in America. Although his scholarships were full, their conditions left little room for error, combined with his already reserved and serious nature-- his secondary education was always the priority, he found little time for socialization. Still, by the age of 28, Tyler had earned his degree, although his specialties (General practice, Tropical medicine, Cardiology and Hematology), would mean another 8 years of residency and fellowships. This time was spent island hopping, taking advantage of his Jamaican citizenship, he spent his residency exploring the Caribbean, receiving training from some of the best doctor's in the field in Cuba, and actively practicing in some of the more remote regions of the islands. While still almost always 'at work,' this was the first point in a long time in Tyler's life he had received a real break from the constant focus on service to others, it was during this period that he made the discovery that he hadn't been living for himself since he was a young boy in Jamaica.
This reprise and period of self-discovery didn't last long however, at the request of aging family, he spent the last few years of his cardiology/hematology fellowship in Monrovia, taking care of aging family. This would continue until, at the age of 35, Tyler decided to actively make a change in his life, and being aptly qualified, he joined Médecins Sans Frontières, to put his skills to use in the region as a whole. While still acting under the scrutiny of a traditionalist family, and using his work to fill up his void of a social life, he found the exciting and morally rewarding life fun, and he was happy. He even found, in his fellow doctors, companionship and romantic relationships. This, of course, was until the plague got really bad. Médecins Sans Frontières were among the first response groups when it came to aid and attempted medical treatment, with Tyler on the front lines. He was exposed to the plague first hand, and saw the chaos it created-- someone like him, an overqualified doctor who had come into close contact without dying-- was invaluable, NASA contacted him about volunteering, having seen his colleagues die, and knowing his family was slowly dying, he went, having nothing left on Earth.
Old World Profession: Doctor; As a seasoned medic with Médecins Sans Frontières, Sacha is used to working efficiently with minimal or no equipment to treat severe injuries and ailments, working on or around battlefields has hardened him to the stresses associated with working in war-zone, and frequent under-financed work has also driven him to become quite resourceful when faced with injuries and dangerous situations.
Other: Has experience with the use of stealth on a battlefield.
Sample Post:
Gritty coughs came out of the phone speaker before that familiar, accented voice filled his ears, "I've been here my whole life, child..." it was the voice of his mother, a voice that held memories both good and bad, but in this moment, hearing her like this, with where he was headed, filled him with nothing but an incredibly potent sense of dread.
Absolute loss.
"Ma," Tyler began, he ran another red light while doing so, he was behind schedule, and he definitely didn't intend on being late for a space shuttle, there really weren't any other drivers to be worried about anyway, police even less so, "It'll be just like when I was a kid, just leave the city for a little bit and then come out when things cool down."
An uncomfortable pause. Tyler turned onto the freeway, just like the streets-- deserted. He was pretty sure the GPS still worked-- where were the other volunteers? Already there? He applied pressure to the peddle, he didn't need to pay attention to his speed, the freeway was desolate. In the distance he could see the rising structure that was the launch pad, the last week had been nothing but simulations and briefings. He was definitely ready for whatever came next, but that didn't stop the anxiety, Tyler supposed that was natural, 20 years of medical experience and he was about to become a human Popsicle in space. The exit would be coming up shortly...
His mother broke the silence. "We should have stood by our city..." More coughing. It was early stages of the plague. All he could do was identify it-- he couldn't help her, his mother, the woman who birthed him--
"Maybe we should have..." Tyler agreed idly, yawning unintentionally. He slowed down the generic rental as he approached the exit. He could see the spacecraft on the launchpad in the distance now, it was visually impressive. As well as intimidating. He drove slow as the car made it's way to the space center, the vehicle making the only sounds in the still dawn. As he chipped away at the distance between himself and the space center, he realized that this was probably his last opportunity to talk to her, his father and colleagues were dead and his family scattered, he had already made his peace and done his crying... But this? This was something more profound.
This was the last conversation of his old life.
"T-- you couldn't have stood!"
This got a chuckle out of him, "I know, Ma."
Another coughing fit, she sounded wearier after each word, "Still... I will stand by my city now... as your father does for his.."
"Yeah, Ma. Do it for me, too."
"S-such a good boy." She was wheezing with each breath now, she would pass out soon. "Finding the cure... so we can all be t-together... m-my son the doctor..." her voice trailed off. She had no clue what NASA actually wanted him for, she just assumed he was working hard for a cure, he didn't have the heart to tell her to abandon hop on her deathbed.
Didn't have the heart to tell her that he had failed.
"Ma?" worry filled his speech, he could see NASA scientists rushing toward his car to greet him, he would have to go soon, and she may have minutes of life-- or at least consciousness-- left, maybe even seconds. "Mom!?"
"Mmmm?" She was lackadaisical, nonchalant. She was almost out-- so much left unsaid, so many issues left unresolved-- and he had-- MAYBE seconds left. The car came to a stop in front of the Space center. He'd be lulled into unconsciousness in a manner of minutes too, the difference is that he'd only be gone for 50 years, she'd be gone forever.
"I love you, Ma."
OP
Name: Mona Scott
Age: 35
Gender: Female
Number: 4
Associated Color: Gold, darker than the childish cheer and optimism of yellow, gold is commonly seen as representing the luxury and all the material riches associated with the precious metal. Feelings of elegance, prestige, and sophistication are evoked by the color, as well as extravagance and the excesses of wealth.
Physical Description: Mona appears to be of at least partial Asian parentage, with her other parent either being Native-American or African-American, her heritage grants her a unique golden copper skin tone. She's short, standing (barely) at 5'3'', however this has the advantage of making her rather average figure appear curvier and more buxom than would be normal. Her face is flat and heart shaped, with warm brown eyes (whose shape betray her Asian blood), her lips and nose are delicate, resembling the designs of a porcelain china doll-- to contrast her hair is wild, black and medium length, held in an unruly bun by scavenged rubber bands.
Personality: Mona is the typical 21st century tragic office drone; smart enough to comprehend her own shortcomings as a person as well as the soul crushing reality of modern day capitalism, but not smart enough to do anything about it. Mona can come off as detached because of this, often seeming to actively be trying to escape reality. She prefers to distract herself with fluff than address issues at hand, as she had become so numbed to her own fatalistic view of the world that she is unsure if she can even handle her own emotions anymore.
Known History: Mona has been working the same dead end desk jockey positions for a little over 10 years now. Before that? She dropped out of college. Before that? Childhood. And before that? She was born in some American military base in Germany.
Real History: The last thing she remembers is getting ready to leave a movie theater. She had stayed behind to see if there were any post-credit scenes and told her friends to go ahead without her before the world went black.
She doesn't have any recollection of which friends she was with, the theater she had gone to, or even which movie she had just seen.
Age: 35
Gender: Female
Number: 4
Associated Color: Gold, darker than the childish cheer and optimism of yellow, gold is commonly seen as representing the luxury and all the material riches associated with the precious metal. Feelings of elegance, prestige, and sophistication are evoked by the color, as well as extravagance and the excesses of wealth.
Physical Description: Mona appears to be of at least partial Asian parentage, with her other parent either being Native-American or African-American, her heritage grants her a unique golden copper skin tone. She's short, standing (barely) at 5'3'', however this has the advantage of making her rather average figure appear curvier and more buxom than would be normal. Her face is flat and heart shaped, with warm brown eyes (whose shape betray her Asian blood), her lips and nose are delicate, resembling the designs of a porcelain china doll-- to contrast her hair is wild, black and medium length, held in an unruly bun by scavenged rubber bands.
Personality: Mona is the typical 21st century tragic office drone; smart enough to comprehend her own shortcomings as a person as well as the soul crushing reality of modern day capitalism, but not smart enough to do anything about it. Mona can come off as detached because of this, often seeming to actively be trying to escape reality. She prefers to distract herself with fluff than address issues at hand, as she had become so numbed to her own fatalistic view of the world that she is unsure if she can even handle her own emotions anymore.
Known History: Mona has been working the same dead end desk jockey positions for a little over 10 years now. Before that? She dropped out of college. Before that? Childhood. And before that? She was born in some American military base in Germany.
Real History: The last thing she remembers is getting ready to leave a movie theater. She had stayed behind to see if there were any post-credit scenes and told her friends to go ahead without her before the world went black.
She doesn't have any recollection of which friends she was with, the theater she had gone to, or even which movie she had just seen.
Name: Sandra
Personality: Sandra is paranoid and obsessive. In another life, she worked for NASA and the US Government closely in the investigation of extraterrestrial life. She is cold, calculating, insecure to the point of second guessing herself so much that SHE may have developed a type of meta-schizophrenia. She loves sweets and she CAN'T stop looking for the Greys-- they're JUST out of her reach. Area 51, Project Blue Book, and MK Ultra have made Sandra into the twitchy, double-talking, alien obsessed person that she thinks she is. Inside John's head.
She knows she'll find them one day, and she needs to keep using John to do it.
Skills: Computer hacking & Bluffing
Personality: Sandra is paranoid and obsessive. In another life, she worked for NASA and the US Government closely in the investigation of extraterrestrial life. She is cold, calculating, insecure to the point of second guessing herself so much that SHE may have developed a type of meta-schizophrenia. She loves sweets and she CAN'T stop looking for the Greys-- they're JUST out of her reach. Area 51, Project Blue Book, and MK Ultra have made Sandra into the twitchy, double-talking, alien obsessed person that she thinks she is. Inside John's head.
She knows she'll find them one day, and she needs to keep using John to do it.
Skills: Computer hacking & Bluffing
OP
NAME: Nel Stevens
ABSTRACT:
Son of a pair of travelers, daughter of a merchant and a farmer.
INTENT:
With a father too sick to make the journey, and a mother that has to stay behind to look after him. Nel is to meet with Kettle, their once good friend, in their place.
Although she is loathe to admit it, a small part of her simply wants to get away from her home town.
FIRST ADVENTURE:
Adventure? Nel's spent almost her entire life in her sleepy village, outside of an occasional quiet vacation, or the trips into the city and countryside to sell her wares and crops. Nel's life has been devoid of a lot of excitement-- let alone the harrowing adventures her parents often regale to her. In recent years, it's been a struggle to even find the courage to step outside, considering the ridicule of being considered a "perverted witch." Most of her adventures take place in her head-- within hopes and daydreams...
And also normal night dreams.
HOW DO YOU KNOW KETTLE?
Nel... doesn't really know Kettle all that well? They met once or twice, of course, when Nel was much younger, when she was still Len Jr. and her parents were trusted traveling companions of the adventurer-- back before they had settled down. From what Nel can remember of the much younger Kettle, she was certainly... a nice lady? She was always really intense, but every time she came around she always had some neat toy or bauble for Nel, which was always very nice...
Her parents seemed really happy with Kettle around. Nel used to wonder why she stopped coming around, she'd almost forgotten about the scholarly adventurer before her family got the letter.
WHY DID KETTLE PICK YOU?
She didn't-- The people she chose were Lenny and Henrietta Stevens, Nel's mother and father. They were once great adventurers, skilled in ways Nel could never be. They gave up that "uncertain life" to settle down on a farm, and build some kind of family-- or at least that's the story her parents feed to her.
For years Nel has suspected that her birth is what ultimately put an end to her parent's travels, and that they resent her for that-- even if that isn't true, Nel does know that her mother resents her for her 'life choices.' Her father, although more accepting, is sick, and perhaps sees this request from an old friend as a way to set his daughter on path in life where she might find a little acceptance.
Or maybe not? Nel doesn't really know. She's just happy to have a reason to leave, life after her... transition hasn't been the most pleasant.
HOW DO YOU KNOW IGNACE?
Nel doesn't really know Ignace, so much as she knows of him. She is a great admirer of his work and fosters a hope to meet him someday-- although she knows that desire is futile. She carves small kick-knacks for tourists to buy-- he creates the future and makes immortal the past.
To say he is an idol of hers is an understatement.
@TheWildHost
HOW DO YOU KNOW A'SHINOK DURAN?
The Praying Lizard Man? Nel has heard many versions of the story, but in each one, the story revolves around a man-sized flying lizard that was journeying from church to church-- her parents, only faithful to the Right of Rosewater and the Dance of Thorns, happened to be the pair to introduce the beast man to their church. Nel thinks the story is entertaining, but wonders if it's even real-- a humanoid lizard warrior with wings visiting all the churches of the world? That sounds just a little absurd!
@Experiment 249
HOW DO YOU KNOW LILA?
The Spider Lady? Nel's parent's have mentioned her-- once or twice. Apparently they never actually met her, but in keeping abreast with the news of the world, they have heard tales of the 'Spider Centaur Adventurer.' Imagine that! A lady with the bottom half of a spider. Nel once wondered if the two faced similar scorn, despite their completely different... body situations. Nel pictures her as seeming nice.
@t2wave
HOW DO YOU KNOW SARANTSATSRAL UIUN PEPLU?
Not at all! Nel's parents literally just mentioned that long name on her way out-- they wondered if Kettle was summoning her to, whoever she is, and if she was still alive, whoever she is, and if perhaps she could help with Nel's father's condition. Nel shrugged and told her parents she'd keep an ear open for the name. Wow! What a name it is!
@orangebox
HOW DO YOU KNOW CLAVIC?
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH(...)HHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!(...)!!!
@Cinderella Man
ABSTRACT:
Son of a pair of travelers, daughter of a merchant and a farmer.
INTENT:
With a father too sick to make the journey, and a mother that has to stay behind to look after him. Nel is to meet with Kettle, their once good friend, in their place.
Although she is loathe to admit it, a small part of her simply wants to get away from her home town.
FIRST ADVENTURE:
Adventure? Nel's spent almost her entire life in her sleepy village, outside of an occasional quiet vacation, or the trips into the city and countryside to sell her wares and crops. Nel's life has been devoid of a lot of excitement-- let alone the harrowing adventures her parents often regale to her. In recent years, it's been a struggle to even find the courage to step outside, considering the ridicule of being considered a "perverted witch." Most of her adventures take place in her head-- within hopes and daydreams...
And also normal night dreams.
HOW DO YOU KNOW KETTLE?
Nel... doesn't really know Kettle all that well? They met once or twice, of course, when Nel was much younger, when she was still Len Jr. and her parents were trusted traveling companions of the adventurer-- back before they had settled down. From what Nel can remember of the much younger Kettle, she was certainly... a nice lady? She was always really intense, but every time she came around she always had some neat toy or bauble for Nel, which was always very nice...
Her parents seemed really happy with Kettle around. Nel used to wonder why she stopped coming around, she'd almost forgotten about the scholarly adventurer before her family got the letter.
WHY DID KETTLE PICK YOU?
She didn't-- The people she chose were Lenny and Henrietta Stevens, Nel's mother and father. They were once great adventurers, skilled in ways Nel could never be. They gave up that "uncertain life" to settle down on a farm, and build some kind of family-- or at least that's the story her parents feed to her.
For years Nel has suspected that her birth is what ultimately put an end to her parent's travels, and that they resent her for that-- even if that isn't true, Nel does know that her mother resents her for her 'life choices.' Her father, although more accepting, is sick, and perhaps sees this request from an old friend as a way to set his daughter on path in life where she might find a little acceptance.
Or maybe not? Nel doesn't really know. She's just happy to have a reason to leave, life after her... transition hasn't been the most pleasant.
HOW DO YOU KNOW IGNACE?
Nel doesn't really know Ignace, so much as she knows of him. She is a great admirer of his work and fosters a hope to meet him someday-- although she knows that desire is futile. She carves small kick-knacks for tourists to buy-- he creates the future and makes immortal the past.
To say he is an idol of hers is an understatement.
@TheWildHost
HOW DO YOU KNOW A'SHINOK DURAN?
The Praying Lizard Man? Nel has heard many versions of the story, but in each one, the story revolves around a man-sized flying lizard that was journeying from church to church-- her parents, only faithful to the Right of Rosewater and the Dance of Thorns, happened to be the pair to introduce the beast man to their church. Nel thinks the story is entertaining, but wonders if it's even real-- a humanoid lizard warrior with wings visiting all the churches of the world? That sounds just a little absurd!
@Experiment 249
HOW DO YOU KNOW LILA?
The Spider Lady? Nel's parent's have mentioned her-- once or twice. Apparently they never actually met her, but in keeping abreast with the news of the world, they have heard tales of the 'Spider Centaur Adventurer.' Imagine that! A lady with the bottom half of a spider. Nel once wondered if the two faced similar scorn, despite their completely different... body situations. Nel pictures her as seeming nice.
@t2wave
HOW DO YOU KNOW SARANTSATSRAL UIUN PEPLU?
Not at all! Nel's parents literally just mentioned that long name on her way out-- they wondered if Kettle was summoning her to, whoever she is, and if she was still alive, whoever she is, and if perhaps she could help with Nel's father's condition. Nel shrugged and told her parents she'd keep an ear open for the name. Wow! What a name it is!
@orangebox
HOW DO YOU KNOW CLAVIC?
AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH(...)HHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!(...)!!!
@Cinderella Man
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/81963-stones/ic
OP
---
Name: Kukcoo (Pronounced as "Cuckoo") Dido
Age: 33 physically, 46 mentally
Gender: Female (biologically hermaphrodite)
Race: Korrvain Nymph (Wherolf; Lycn)
Homeworld: Nomadic/Asteroid dwelling
Position: Field Commander
Personality: Kukcoo has all the basic mannerisms of a Korrvain Nymph-- She's flirtatious, capricious, lustful, and has a natural disposition towards gambling and taking crazy risks. What sets her apart is a cool demeanor, her personality is one that is disarming and calming in a similar that one's lover might take on to appease any negative feelings. The Korrvain Nymph subspecies tendency towards sensuality has manifested in her both as improving her manner to sooth, but also increasing her flirtation with those she finds suitable, a bit of a double edged sword in the case of asexuals or those who simply don't like the Nymph. Her own Lycn heritage (weak as it may be) has only increased her focus on remaining calm when anger would otherwise be a reasonable emotion to feel, all of her emotions tend to be even more passionate, running the gamut from happiness to depression, but you will almost never see her angry.
Kukcoo is a huge fan of general Andreemean pop culture and trends, and tends to integrate contemporary and post-modern references into her daily life and speech mannerisms. Her upbringing under a Korrvain Nymph assassin and spy left a permanent effect on who she is today-- although not just in the skill department, she regularly measures herself against her father and this has given Kukcoo a negative self image, despite her initial mask, she has no clue what her place is in the galaxy and universe, and she ultimately has no idea what she will do with her (eerily immortal) existence. This scares her to no end. Kukcoo also has a tendency, as a tactician, to run scenarios through her mind on instinct, sometimes the scenarios are irrelevant to the matter at hand, and make her appear as if she might constantly zone out. When not acting as a spy or tactician, she can either be found trying to bed someone, watching or otherwise consuming some form of media or entertainment or generally lazing about, in other words-- "If the situation isn't dire, she is what you'd consider a wild child."
Appearance:
Abilities:
Equipment:
Biography: For someone raised by a government sanctioned assassin, Kukcoo Dido had a pretty normal childhood. In between assignments, her father taught her, giving her both a general education and what was basically a mentorship in espionage, survival tactics, and how to maximize her natural talents. During assignments, Kukcoo suffered from ennui and developed an addiction to TV, movies, and music as a way to pass the time, an addiction that she maintains to this day. Her life fit into this uniformity up until her 21st birthday, when she entered the uniformity of university, she escaped by 25 and entered the uniformity of the workforce, following her father-- she found herself settling into the niche of "Contracted Field Commander," acting as an agent of the IGCP in minor conflicts that call for mercenary forces that need a commander and other minor assignments. She isn't particularly satisfied with the position, but then, though she refuses to acknowledge it, she isn't doing this for herself. The Exeralune assignment is just another in a long string of stagnation.
Name: Kukcoo (Pronounced as "Cuckoo") Dido
Age: 33 physically, 46 mentally
Gender: Female (biologically hermaphrodite)
Race: Korrvain Nymph (Wherolf; Lycn)
Homeworld: Nomadic/Asteroid dwelling
Position: Field Commander
Personality: Kukcoo has all the basic mannerisms of a Korrvain Nymph-- She's flirtatious, capricious, lustful, and has a natural disposition towards gambling and taking crazy risks. What sets her apart is a cool demeanor, her personality is one that is disarming and calming in a similar that one's lover might take on to appease any negative feelings. The Korrvain Nymph subspecies tendency towards sensuality has manifested in her both as improving her manner to sooth, but also increasing her flirtation with those she finds suitable, a bit of a double edged sword in the case of asexuals or those who simply don't like the Nymph. Her own Lycn heritage (weak as it may be) has only increased her focus on remaining calm when anger would otherwise be a reasonable emotion to feel, all of her emotions tend to be even more passionate, running the gamut from happiness to depression, but you will almost never see her angry.
Kukcoo is a huge fan of general Andreemean pop culture and trends, and tends to integrate contemporary and post-modern references into her daily life and speech mannerisms. Her upbringing under a Korrvain Nymph assassin and spy left a permanent effect on who she is today-- although not just in the skill department, she regularly measures herself against her father and this has given Kukcoo a negative self image, despite her initial mask, she has no clue what her place is in the galaxy and universe, and she ultimately has no idea what she will do with her (eerily immortal) existence. This scares her to no end. Kukcoo also has a tendency, as a tactician, to run scenarios through her mind on instinct, sometimes the scenarios are irrelevant to the matter at hand, and make her appear as if she might constantly zone out. When not acting as a spy or tactician, she can either be found trying to bed someone, watching or otherwise consuming some form of media or entertainment or generally lazing about, in other words-- "If the situation isn't dire, she is what you'd consider a wild child."
Appearance:
Abilities:
- Desenrascanço: A Portuguese word that means being able to improvise under pressure, Kukcoo sees this as her most important trait.
- Korrvain Nymph Physiology: Physically speaking, Korrvain Nymphs are among the weakest living sentient being in Andreemea, being the malnourished, mutated and frailer cousins of the Korrvain. What might merely bruise a human, might critically wound or break the bone of a Korrvain Nymph. As such, the race has evolved to quick and agile, with members finding it easier to preform feats of stealth because of their reduced stature and relative speed. As a nomadic race they find themselves often thrown into the roles of diplomats, ambassadors and traders because of their relative neutrality. They are neurologically prone to high risk taking and romantic inclinations, and have large black eyes that are sensitive to sudden brightness or darkness.
- Weak strain of Lycn Wherolf genes: A long time ago in Kukcoo's ancestry, an early member of the Dido clan breed with a carrier of a Lycn gene. While potent for a few generations, time and genetic variations have reduced the strength of the Wherolf blood that runs through Dido veins. Members of the current generation of Dido who happen to posses the blood of the wolf can't even fully transform and only reap the benefits of Wherolf "immortality". With effort, upon agitation Kukcoo can grow wolves eyes, wolf fangs, and wolves claws. In this state she possesses the durability of a human with a weak constitution.
- Espionage experience: Her father, Dado Dido, was a spy and assassin for the IGCP, seeing as he was her sole source of schooling and mentoring, his experience has rubbed off on her. Giving her an edge in the art of subterfuge.
- Tactition: Following in the footsteps of her father, Kukcoo also found her way into working for the IGCP, eventually settling into her niche as a general strategist. She has commanded small forces in battle and in other operations as a semi-independent agent of the IGCP for nearly a decade now. Those years of experience have only made her better.
Equipment:
- Gravity boots: Exactly what they say on the tin, old fashioned gravity boots! This older model doesn't rely on an internal power source, and they are controlled completely through neurolink and nanomachines, making them a bitch to get on and off-- but in this case, quality over comfort. These boots can either levitate for ease or propel themselves forward at close to 75mph, they can act as gravity mines, forcing small objects to rush towards them at distances as far as 200ft, they can act as ironboots in low gravity environments, planting themselves firmly to the ground, allowing her to walk on walls, or even attract themselves vertically to a target. They are an old Dido family heirloom, and as such are known to occasionally sputter, they are also solar powered, meaning a long enough period without light will cause them to automatically power off.
- Wonder!Tek multipurpose cosmo hood, in red: Do you like listening to music or the radio? What about watching your favorite movie or TV show? Constant access to intergalactic wifi is a must, as well as constant updates on your body condition and the surrounding area. You still need to keep in contact with your friends! And of course you'd like to do all this while still looking stylish! What if we could promise all of that, and more, while in DEEP SPACE!?!? With Wonder!Tek's newest product, we can! The latest in synthetic technology AND! space travel, the BRAND NEW Wonder!Tek multipurpose cosmo hood will be for you! From Wonder!Tek, who have given us such great products as "Baby's first rocket!" "Baby's first rocket cleanup crew" "Wifi and Audio blindfold!" "Teenage androids" " The real! Sex Doll" "Blast to the past razzmatazz!" and so much more! The Wonder!Tek multipurpose cosmo hood, has woven into it an experimental alloy, that, when combined with the near invisible hyper mesh that covers the front, create a soft, clothesque hood like garment, that is actually capable of withstanding harsh concussive force! And apparently-- makes it possible for the wearer to move around in open space with relative comfort! Scientists are baffled! And quite honestly? So are we! The Wonder!Tek multipurpose cosmo hood can also tune in to most* galactic TV networks, access the Intergalactic wifi, download, watch and listen to movies, podcasts, general music, and galactic radio stations (need to be within frequency range). It also comes downloaded with biolink body condition updates, chat clients (audio, text and video), a 3 dimensional compass, currently known star and planet maps, a beta translator, and it actively maps and provides information on your current location (still in beta). The Wonder!Tek multipurpose cosmo hood is a comet miner's dream! Listen to music or watch a movie during work without your boss knowing! The Wonder!Tek multipurpose cosmo hood comes in a variety of colors and sizes! Get yours today! And remember, Wonder!Tek: Upgrade YOUR gray matter, because one day it may matter! (If your re-breather ever stops functioning properly please contact the Wonder!Tek maintenance division, early contact can allow us to get a worker to your location in one to two months time)
Biography: For someone raised by a government sanctioned assassin, Kukcoo Dido had a pretty normal childhood. In between assignments, her father taught her, giving her both a general education and what was basically a mentorship in espionage, survival tactics, and how to maximize her natural talents. During assignments, Kukcoo suffered from ennui and developed an addiction to TV, movies, and music as a way to pass the time, an addiction that she maintains to this day. Her life fit into this uniformity up until her 21st birthday, when she entered the uniformity of university, she escaped by 25 and entered the uniformity of the workforce, following her father-- she found herself settling into the niche of "Contracted Field Commander," acting as an agent of the IGCP in minor conflicts that call for mercenary forces that need a commander and other minor assignments. She isn't particularly satisfied with the position, but then, though she refuses to acknowledge it, she isn't doing this for herself. The Exeralune assignment is just another in a long string of stagnation.
---
Name: Gogo Dido
Age: 47
Gender: Female (biologically hermaphrodite)
Race: Korrvain Nymph
Homeworld: Nomadic/Asteroid dwelling
Position: Security Personnel
Personality: Gogo is arrogant and prone to anger easily, this makes her perfect for a position in which she engages in combat-- but awful at pretty much everything else. It unknown how her family tolerates her, let alone strangers.
Appearance:
Abilities:
Equipment: General security equipment
Biography (brief): Kukcoo's semi-close cousin and long time member of an IGCP merc group.
---
Age: 47
Gender: Female (biologically hermaphrodite)
Race: Korrvain Nymph
Homeworld: Nomadic/Asteroid dwelling
Position: Security Personnel
Personality: Gogo is arrogant and prone to anger easily, this makes her perfect for a position in which she engages in combat-- but awful at pretty much everything else. It unknown how her family tolerates her, let alone strangers.
Appearance:
Abilities:
- Korrvain Nymph Physiology: Physically speaking, Korrvain Nymphs are among the weakest living sentient being in Andreemea, being the malnourished, mutated and frailer cousins of the Korrvain. What might merely bruise a human, might critically wound or break the bone of a Korrvain Nymph. As such, the race has evolved to quick and agile, with members finding it easier to preform feats of stealth because of their reduced stature and relative speed. As a nomadic race they find themselves often thrown into the roles of diplomats, ambassadors and traders because of their relative neutrality. They are neurologically prone to high risk taking and romantic inclinations, and have large black eyes that are sensitive to sudden brightness or darkness.
- Combat experience/Grunt psychology: Fairly self explanatory. She has seen combat and has the perfect psych for a low level soldier.
Equipment: General security equipment
Biography (brief): Kukcoo's semi-close cousin and long time member of an IGCP merc group.
---
roleplayerguild.com/topics/66515-andr…
OP
Never actually posted. May use her for something again after I fix up a few things.
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/45836-fallout-the-long-haul-always-open-to-new-players/ic
Age: 26
Appearance: Lily stands tall at 5'11" with an average, if not slightly smaller figure. She has short black hair framing inquisitive brown eyes and a light olive complexion. Her expressions tend to remain neutral, with her most powerful smile being a slight smirk. Her outfits tend to be basic and earth colored, either a dark tank-top or a T-shirt and traditional tribal garb. Added to this is obligatory wasteland dirt and wear, her small frame is also colored by tribal messages and tattoos, both permanent and temporrary. She's got a dark air about her and smells like alcohol and aloe vera.
Race: Human (Psyker), Permanently altered by tribal potions and salves
Skills:
SPECIAL:
STR 2 - You don't even lift! I doubt you could beat an egg with a hammer!
PER 8 (+1) - You've made up for your natural lack of athletic aptitude with an unnatural perception of things. Forces you can't quite understand alert you of things even more perceptive people would miss, this has allowed you a pretty great avoidance of fatal danger.
END 3 - Not quite made of glass-- more like a particularly hardy porcelain.
CHA 6 - You'd be better at persuasion if you were a little less... forceful... at times. Still, you're better at using your gift of gab than the average wastelander.
INT 5 - You know things, okay! Sure, on paper you might not appear to have anything above average going on in your head, but you compensate a lack of book smarts with street smarts and an extensive knowledge of the beforetimes and its beautiful, beautiful music.
AGL 7 - You may not have the endurance to sustain a run, but you certainly have the agility to get away in the moment. You aren't an Olympic gymnast, but you can handle parkour most people couldn't.
LUK 8 (+1) - You're lucky, very lucky. Fortune in gambling aside, you aren't very good at traditional combat, your good fortune has helped you avoid what the wasteland typically has in store for those not gifted in the bloody arts.
Perks:
Equipment:
Not much to note about her clothing, the hooded poncho is one of the last surviving artifacts of the Crazy Horn tribe, it was passed down from witchdoctor to witchdoctor, and it is the only thing Lily has of her mother. It has a boon of history and Crazy Horn magicks within its fibers. The wearer is said to have the devil's own luck. The rest of her clothing is a mixture of the average wastelander crossed with a forgotten tribal's style.
Besides a few tribal tattoos, her bow and quiver are her last remnants of the tribal lifestyle she once led in the past, it's also the only weapon she shows any efficiency with.
She currently has 23 arrows made.
More of a tool than a weapon, she also possesses a multi-function retractable shovel.
Character history:
Idk where this revision was for.
Name: Lily-Of-The-Valley Churra/Flower with Horns
Age:26
Appearance:
Race: Human (Psyker), permanently altered by tribal potions and salves
Skills:
Perks:
Equipment:
Not much to not about her clothing, her leather jacket makes her more durable than without it, its hood can conceal her face. Besides that, she wears worn jeans and flat-bottom sneakers that may have once been considered converse.
The hooded poncho is one of the last surviving artifacts of the Crazy Horn tribe, it was passed down from witchdoctor to witchdoctor, and it is the only thing Lily has of her mother.
Besides a few tribal tattoos, her bow and quiver are her last remnants of the tribal lifestyle she once led in the past, it's also the only weapon she shows any efficiency with.
She currently has 23 arrows made.
More of a tool than a weapon, she also possesses a multi-function retractable shovel.
An average sized Valut-tec messenger bag, by Vault-tec, filled with:
what can be typically found in a first aid kit, as well as herbs, fruits, vegetables and rare wasteland plants
An older model Pip-boy 2000, not wrist mounted, it works comparable to a clunky smart phone. Almost all of its memory is taken up by unique music of the beforetimes and the present
A Nevada copy of the Wasteland Survival Guide
Cat's Paw, issues 1 through 4
A copy of The Lavender Flower
8 stimpaks
A lethal amount of mentats, grape mentats, and party time mentats
A mutfruit
A few befortime discs, cassettes, and holotapes
somewhere between 300-700 bottlecaps, from Nuka-Cola, Sunset Sarsaparilla and assorted beer bottles
And several discarded "Jimmy Hat" wrappers
Age:26
Appearance:
Added to this is obligatory wasteland dirt and wear, as well as some tribal ink (think pronounced dark paint around the eyes). She's about 5'11'/6'ish, has a small frame and a dark air about her.
Race: Human (Psyker), permanently altered by tribal potions and salves
Skills:
Primary: Survival, Medicine *(More First Aid experience than Doctor)
Secondary: Gambling
STR 2 - You don't even lift! I doubt you could beat an egg with a hammer!
PER 8 (+1) - You've made up for your natural lack of athletic aptitude with an unnatural perception of things. Forces you can't quite understand alert you of things even more perceptive people would miss, this has allowed you a pretty great avoidance of fatal danger.
END 3 - Not quite made of glass-- more like a particularly hardy porcelain.
CHA 6 - You'd be better at persuasion if you were a little less... forceful... at times. Still, you're better at using your gift of gab than the average wastelander.
INT 5 - You know things, okay! Sure, on paper you might not appear to have anything above average going on in your head, but you compensate a lack of book smarts with street smarts and an extensive knowledge of the beforetimes and its beautiful, beautiful music.
AGL 7 - You may not have the endurance to sustain a run, but you certainly have the agility to get away in the moment. You aren't an Olympic gymnast, but you can handle parkour most people couldn't.
LUK 8 (+1) - You're lucky, very lucky. Fortune in gambling aside, you aren't very good at traditional combat, your good fortune has helped you avoid what the wasteland typically has in store for those not gifted in the bloody arts.
PER 8 (+1) - You've made up for your natural lack of athletic aptitude with an unnatural perception of things. Forces you can't quite understand alert you of things even more perceptive people would miss, this has allowed you a pretty great avoidance of fatal danger.
END 3 - Not quite made of glass-- more like a particularly hardy porcelain.
CHA 6 - You'd be better at persuasion if you were a little less... forceful... at times. Still, you're better at using your gift of gab than the average wastelander.
INT 5 - You know things, okay! Sure, on paper you might not appear to have anything above average going on in your head, but you compensate a lack of book smarts with street smarts and an extensive knowledge of the beforetimes and its beautiful, beautiful music.
AGL 7 - You may not have the endurance to sustain a run, but you certainly have the agility to get away in the moment. You aren't an Olympic gymnast, but you can handle parkour most people couldn't.
LUK 8 (+1) - You're lucky, very lucky. Fortune in gambling aside, you aren't very good at traditional combat, your good fortune has helped you avoid what the wasteland typically has in store for those not gifted in the bloody arts.
Perks:
Kama Sutra Master:
When it comes to pleasing sexually, you wrote the gods damned book.
Friends on the Other Side:
You have a dark aura about you-- your mind, body, and soul have been permanently altered by dark forces no one can quite understand. You see the ghostly apparitions and they see you too. Lucky for you, it's as a friend.
Equipment:
Not much to not about her clothing, her leather jacket makes her more durable than without it, its hood can conceal her face. Besides that, she wears worn jeans and flat-bottom sneakers that may have once been considered converse.
The hooded poncho is one of the last surviving artifacts of the Crazy Horn tribe, it was passed down from witchdoctor to witchdoctor, and it is the only thing Lily has of her mother.
Besides a few tribal tattoos, her bow and quiver are her last remnants of the tribal lifestyle she once led in the past, it's also the only weapon she shows any efficiency with.
She currently has 23 arrows made.
More of a tool than a weapon, she also possesses a multi-function retractable shovel.
An average sized Valut-tec messenger bag, by Vault-tec, filled with:
what can be typically found in a first aid kit, as well as herbs, fruits, vegetables and rare wasteland plants
An older model Pip-boy 2000, not wrist mounted, it works comparable to a clunky smart phone. Almost all of its memory is taken up by unique music of the beforetimes and the present
A Nevada copy of the Wasteland Survival Guide
Cat's Paw, issues 1 through 4
A copy of The Lavender Flower
8 stimpaks
A lethal amount of mentats, grape mentats, and party time mentats
A mutfruit
A few befortime discs, cassettes, and holotapes
somewhere between 300-700 bottlecaps, from Nuka-Cola, Sunset Sarsaparilla and assorted beer bottles
And several discarded "Jimmy Hat" wrappers
Bio:
Some say it takes a village. For a time, Lily had just that.
Originally named Flower with Horns, she was born in 2270 as a baby of the Crazy Horns, a dwindling nomadic tribe that primarily operated in Northern Nevada. Her father was a lowly hunter, and her mother was the tribe witchdoctor and resident psychic. Her tribesmen were like family, regardless of blood, each member doing their part to raise the child. Tribal life is hard in the wasteland-- all the more when you survive not by combat, but by relying on the guidance of spirits, apparitions, dark forces-- the unknown. In this tribe, babies were miracles from the spirits alone, but a child of the tribe's last living psychic? She was practically born a goddess. Surely under the training of her mother this child would bring about salvation!
So under the training of her mother, Flower with Eyes, she went. Starting the day Lily could talk, Flower with Eyes set about training her daughter in the old ways of mysticism, herbalism, and living off the land like an ancient Crazy Horn-- teaching her the names of flowers and fungi and how to make poultices, potions and poisons. By the time Lily was 5, Flower with Eyes began testing her psychic ability, training her from a young age to be in tune with the dark forces not visible to those without the sight. By the time Lily was 7 she could be considered an apprentice medium. She had communicated with ghosts, had visions of places she was not, could hear the past.
Yet she had never spent a day playing with her friends-- she didn't even have any. Children her age went on hunting trips with heir parents and friends, the little flower could barely fire a bow. Her father's face blended into those of the tribe, all faces that looked at her with love... and fear. Everyone smiled at her from a distance. She had a village, but she was solitary. Flower with Eyes was more of a mentor than a mother, when Lily asked her Flower with Eyes about this, she cryptically replied, "To live in the world of the living and the world of spirits is to tear yourself in two, the decision has been made for us, little Flower, we must honor our gifts."
"Do not let their reverence and fear tear you, my young one."
Lily didn't argue, but she didn't agree with her mother either. Flower with Eyes saw this, but trusted not the spirits-- but her daughter, to do the honorable thing. Despite a growing uneasiness in Lily, this trust was well placed. Years passed and Lily studied the mysticism and shamanism of Crazy Horn ghosts, the tribe survived-- only barely, as a competing, militaristic tribe, the White Legs, grew in the region-- but they did survive, which, for a time, was enough.
Only for a time.
Flower with Eyes told of his coming, a 10 year old Lily saw him as well. A New Canaanite dressed in grays, coming to the Crazy Horns with a proposal. The Tribal chief welcomed the self-proclaimed missionary, Daniel, with open arms. Crazy Horn way of life left allies few and far in between, and an alliance with New Canaan could help alleviate some of the tribes sorrows brought about by the growing threat of the White Legs. After a feast and a tribal ceremony welcoming the Mormon stranger, a meeting was held between the Crazy Horns chief, Daniel, the tribe Witchdoctor and her apprentice. Lily marveled at the man as the adults spoke, sure, she had seen ghostly apparitions and beforetime visions with men who looked like Daniel-- but this was her first time seeing such a figure in the flesh, his clothes were alien to her as well, and the device on his back... She heard the war-chief talk about those; G-U-A-N-Z. Guanz they were called, like bows, but louder, with small and fast arrows.
It was all so impressive to her, in recent memory, the only other time she felt such awe is whenever she could talk to a ghost about the beforetimes (and was able to understand their English, with the little she knew). The meeting was fateful-- important matters were being discussed that pertained to the tribe's future, she scarcely understood any of it though, more interested in simply hearing someone speak English in the flesh-- someone who wasn't her mother, anyway. The meeting had much more grave meanings for her mother, the Chief, and the tribe as a whole. But for Lily-of-the-Valley, it was the day she decided she wanted to leave-- to see the world she had only just now begun to learn about, to learn from ghosts and people and experience everything that inspired awe in her, like the man Daniel.
The following months saw major shifts in the Crazy Horns modus operandi. The Mormon missionary, Daniel, assumed executive power over the tribe in all but name. They stopped moving around and made a home near Zion national park. Hunting stopped being the focus of the tribe, guns were introduced, and those who could, learned how to fight as the skirmishes with the White Legs increased as time passed. Daniel was unsure if he was doing the right thing, but he continued, backed fully by the chief of the tribe.
Flower with Eyes spent so much time using her own sight to aid in the coming war with the White Legs that for what felt like the first time in her life, Lily was free. She spent almost all of this free time pestering Daniel, trying to learn of him, the outside, what he called Mormonism, everything-- radio and music particularly interested her. Ghostly voices that sing for you whenever you want! What *isn't* to love? They bonded, he eventually taught the girl how to speak proper English. When not with Daniel, Lily felt it appropriate to learn how to properly use the weapon of her tribe, the wasteland bow. This and more she did with her freedom, she still felt ostracized by her tribes "Fear and reverence" of her, but even without company, she certainly didn't waste her break. These few months may have been some of the best in her young life.
All good things must come to an end though, this particular good thing came to its end a few weeks after her 11th birthday. Flower with Eyes had a single vision the day of the Crazy Horn's march on the White Leg encampment, ghosts of their victims told her of their numbers-- their brutality. Grabbing her daughter's hand, she ran faster than the march of every Crazy Horn fighter, stood in front of Daniel, the Tribe Chief and the full Crazy Horn vanguard, and relayed to them the visions. Relayed the warning. For the first time in the tribe's history, a Chief ignored the warnings of one of it's Witchdoctors. He followed Daniel, and the tribe followed him, they had the Heavenly Father in the sky on their side, not a few spirits on the ground, they couldn't lose.
Without a word, Flower with Eyes took Lily, returned to camp one last time to get a single Brahmin carrying everything they needed, and they began the long walk back to Nevada. Lily hadn't seen her father for weeks.
The entirety of the Crazy Horn fighters were brutally slaughtered that night. Any survivors were sold into slavery.
Mother and daughter traveling alone in the wasteland, vulnerable and weak. They should've been easy prey. But three weeks of walking and they found themselves in New Reno. The two relied on the spirits of the desert to keep them safe, help them hunt and find them a place to settle down, and the reliance paid off. Any differences the two had before were wordlessly forgotten in the journey. Lily cried as the ghosts of her former tribesmen-- the ghost of her father-- caught up to them to say goodbye, and Flower with Eyes burned with a cold resentment that she hadn't done enough to prevent what Daniel led her people into. Lily got her wish, to leaver her tribe and see the world.
But at what cost?
Despite tribal origins, Flower with Eyes and Lily did well in New Reno. Flower with Eyes picked up where she left off in regards to her mystic training in the dark arts, however this was tempered with more freedom for Lily, and time for Lily to learn about new things and explore her own interests. Lily was young, and so was renamed after the flower her tribal name was based off of 'Lily-of-the-Valley,' shortened as Lily to better avoid a tribal stigma. Her last name, Churra, is that of a 4-horned old world sheep, in remembrance of the mutated Chupacabras the Crazy Horns were known for herding and hunting. Flower with Eyes kept her name, not entirely stuck in her old ways, but resigned to the fact that, unlike her daughter, she could never belong to New Reno. To make caps, the pair charged for holistic, tribal mind/body/soul healing, tribal drugs, poultices, potions, and on occasion poison, and psychic readings. The tragedy brought the two closer with time, and the new found freedom granted to her by her mother, as well as the life of the city, brought Lily to life.
The second Battle of the Hoover Dam passed, life moved on, New Reno kept on keeping on. As Lily aged, she healthily began to move away from home, taking on a myriad of odd jobs and learning the in's and out's of more wasteland. At 14 she got paid to advertise for a few casinos and clean up after customers at restaurants, at 15 and 16 she tried petty and not so petty thievery-- it went quite well with the use of her ghosts, her mother didn't approve. For a few months between 16 and 17 she tried merc work, it didn't fit her-- farmhand work fit her even less right before she turned 18. 18 and 19 saw her working as a Cat's Paw prostitute-- she did quite well at that, being what was essentially a flower child raised conservatively, sexual liberation fit her well. Her mother urged her to leave, but even as she neared 20 and began to dabble in prospecting, scavenging, and career gambling, she'd still occasionally work as a call girl for a hundred caps or two, she was always lucky enough to avoid the dangerous customers. By 21 she could scavenge with the best of them, she was better at finding specialty items, through her own perception, luck and paranormal assistance. During this time, she happens upon what she considers her most valuable find-- her Pip-boy 2000, and the ability to listen to radio whenever.
At the age of 23 her mother's health started fading, she had to stop leaving on prospecting trips so she could spend as much of Flower with Eyes' remaining time with her as possible. The New Reno radio tower had been revived sometime when she was 21 or 22-- it needed music and DJs, with a Pipboy full of recorded music and scavenged holotapes galore, she got the job. This job let her finally express a passion that had been mostly silent up until this point and well as remain close to her mother, and watch over her in her decaying health.
Flower with Eyes died sleeping next to her daughter, full of regrets the she had failed her tribe, but happy she'd at least succeeded her daughter.
Lily worked through the sadness of her loss. She eventually became a New Reno's resident 'Audio Procurement Specialist,' and a part-time DJ with a hell of a music taste. She regales listeners with stories she's picked up of the beforetimes, from ghosts and men. In a certain sense she's content, the caps are good, she lives in a radio station-- she's a voice of upper Nevada with admirers and fans. In another sense, though, she feels fed up with being where she is-- she never forgot her childhood dream of seeing the world, to honor her gift for her mother, to do... something.
Ghosts whisper in the shadows of something coming from New Vegas, Lily-of-the-Valley's curiosity is piqued.
Some say it takes a village. For a time, Lily had just that.
Originally named Flower with Horns, she was born in 2270 as a baby of the Crazy Horns, a dwindling nomadic tribe that primarily operated in Northern Nevada. Her father was a lowly hunter, and her mother was the tribe witchdoctor and resident psychic. Her tribesmen were like family, regardless of blood, each member doing their part to raise the child. Tribal life is hard in the wasteland-- all the more when you survive not by combat, but by relying on the guidance of spirits, apparitions, dark forces-- the unknown. In this tribe, babies were miracles from the spirits alone, but a child of the tribe's last living psychic? She was practically born a goddess. Surely under the training of her mother this child would bring about salvation!
So under the training of her mother, Flower with Eyes, she went. Starting the day Lily could talk, Flower with Eyes set about training her daughter in the old ways of mysticism, herbalism, and living off the land like an ancient Crazy Horn-- teaching her the names of flowers and fungi and how to make poultices, potions and poisons. By the time Lily was 5, Flower with Eyes began testing her psychic ability, training her from a young age to be in tune with the dark forces not visible to those without the sight. By the time Lily was 7 she could be considered an apprentice medium. She had communicated with ghosts, had visions of places she was not, could hear the past.
Yet she had never spent a day playing with her friends-- she didn't even have any. Children her age went on hunting trips with heir parents and friends, the little flower could barely fire a bow. Her father's face blended into those of the tribe, all faces that looked at her with love... and fear. Everyone smiled at her from a distance. She had a village, but she was solitary. Flower with Eyes was more of a mentor than a mother, when Lily asked her Flower with Eyes about this, she cryptically replied, "To live in the world of the living and the world of spirits is to tear yourself in two, the decision has been made for us, little Flower, we must honor our gifts."
"Do not let their reverence and fear tear you, my young one."
Lily didn't argue, but she didn't agree with her mother either. Flower with Eyes saw this, but trusted not the spirits-- but her daughter, to do the honorable thing. Despite a growing uneasiness in Lily, this trust was well placed. Years passed and Lily studied the mysticism and shamanism of Crazy Horn ghosts, the tribe survived-- only barely, as a competing, militaristic tribe, the White Legs, grew in the region-- but they did survive, which, for a time, was enough.
Only for a time.
Flower with Eyes told of his coming, a 10 year old Lily saw him as well. A New Canaanite dressed in grays, coming to the Crazy Horns with a proposal. The Tribal chief welcomed the self-proclaimed missionary, Daniel, with open arms. Crazy Horn way of life left allies few and far in between, and an alliance with New Canaan could help alleviate some of the tribes sorrows brought about by the growing threat of the White Legs. After a feast and a tribal ceremony welcoming the Mormon stranger, a meeting was held between the Crazy Horns chief, Daniel, the tribe Witchdoctor and her apprentice. Lily marveled at the man as the adults spoke, sure, she had seen ghostly apparitions and beforetime visions with men who looked like Daniel-- but this was her first time seeing such a figure in the flesh, his clothes were alien to her as well, and the device on his back... She heard the war-chief talk about those; G-U-A-N-Z. Guanz they were called, like bows, but louder, with small and fast arrows.
It was all so impressive to her, in recent memory, the only other time she felt such awe is whenever she could talk to a ghost about the beforetimes (and was able to understand their English, with the little she knew). The meeting was fateful-- important matters were being discussed that pertained to the tribe's future, she scarcely understood any of it though, more interested in simply hearing someone speak English in the flesh-- someone who wasn't her mother, anyway. The meeting had much more grave meanings for her mother, the Chief, and the tribe as a whole. But for Lily-of-the-Valley, it was the day she decided she wanted to leave-- to see the world she had only just now begun to learn about, to learn from ghosts and people and experience everything that inspired awe in her, like the man Daniel.
The following months saw major shifts in the Crazy Horns modus operandi. The Mormon missionary, Daniel, assumed executive power over the tribe in all but name. They stopped moving around and made a home near Zion national park. Hunting stopped being the focus of the tribe, guns were introduced, and those who could, learned how to fight as the skirmishes with the White Legs increased as time passed. Daniel was unsure if he was doing the right thing, but he continued, backed fully by the chief of the tribe.
Flower with Eyes spent so much time using her own sight to aid in the coming war with the White Legs that for what felt like the first time in her life, Lily was free. She spent almost all of this free time pestering Daniel, trying to learn of him, the outside, what he called Mormonism, everything-- radio and music particularly interested her. Ghostly voices that sing for you whenever you want! What *isn't* to love? They bonded, he eventually taught the girl how to speak proper English. When not with Daniel, Lily felt it appropriate to learn how to properly use the weapon of her tribe, the wasteland bow. This and more she did with her freedom, she still felt ostracized by her tribes "Fear and reverence" of her, but even without company, she certainly didn't waste her break. These few months may have been some of the best in her young life.
All good things must come to an end though, this particular good thing came to its end a few weeks after her 11th birthday. Flower with Eyes had a single vision the day of the Crazy Horn's march on the White Leg encampment, ghosts of their victims told her of their numbers-- their brutality. Grabbing her daughter's hand, she ran faster than the march of every Crazy Horn fighter, stood in front of Daniel, the Tribe Chief and the full Crazy Horn vanguard, and relayed to them the visions. Relayed the warning. For the first time in the tribe's history, a Chief ignored the warnings of one of it's Witchdoctors. He followed Daniel, and the tribe followed him, they had the Heavenly Father in the sky on their side, not a few spirits on the ground, they couldn't lose.
Without a word, Flower with Eyes took Lily, returned to camp one last time to get a single Brahmin carrying everything they needed, and they began the long walk back to Nevada. Lily hadn't seen her father for weeks.
The entirety of the Crazy Horn fighters were brutally slaughtered that night. Any survivors were sold into slavery.
Mother and daughter traveling alone in the wasteland, vulnerable and weak. They should've been easy prey. But three weeks of walking and they found themselves in New Reno. The two relied on the spirits of the desert to keep them safe, help them hunt and find them a place to settle down, and the reliance paid off. Any differences the two had before were wordlessly forgotten in the journey. Lily cried as the ghosts of her former tribesmen-- the ghost of her father-- caught up to them to say goodbye, and Flower with Eyes burned with a cold resentment that she hadn't done enough to prevent what Daniel led her people into. Lily got her wish, to leaver her tribe and see the world.
But at what cost?
Despite tribal origins, Flower with Eyes and Lily did well in New Reno. Flower with Eyes picked up where she left off in regards to her mystic training in the dark arts, however this was tempered with more freedom for Lily, and time for Lily to learn about new things and explore her own interests. Lily was young, and so was renamed after the flower her tribal name was based off of 'Lily-of-the-Valley,' shortened as Lily to better avoid a tribal stigma. Her last name, Churra, is that of a 4-horned old world sheep, in remembrance of the mutated Chupacabras the Crazy Horns were known for herding and hunting. Flower with Eyes kept her name, not entirely stuck in her old ways, but resigned to the fact that, unlike her daughter, she could never belong to New Reno. To make caps, the pair charged for holistic, tribal mind/body/soul healing, tribal drugs, poultices, potions, and on occasion poison, and psychic readings. The tragedy brought the two closer with time, and the new found freedom granted to her by her mother, as well as the life of the city, brought Lily to life.
The second Battle of the Hoover Dam passed, life moved on, New Reno kept on keeping on. As Lily aged, she healthily began to move away from home, taking on a myriad of odd jobs and learning the in's and out's of more wasteland. At 14 she got paid to advertise for a few casinos and clean up after customers at restaurants, at 15 and 16 she tried petty and not so petty thievery-- it went quite well with the use of her ghosts, her mother didn't approve. For a few months between 16 and 17 she tried merc work, it didn't fit her-- farmhand work fit her even less right before she turned 18. 18 and 19 saw her working as a Cat's Paw prostitute-- she did quite well at that, being what was essentially a flower child raised conservatively, sexual liberation fit her well. Her mother urged her to leave, but even as she neared 20 and began to dabble in prospecting, scavenging, and career gambling, she'd still occasionally work as a call girl for a hundred caps or two, she was always lucky enough to avoid the dangerous customers. By 21 she could scavenge with the best of them, she was better at finding specialty items, through her own perception, luck and paranormal assistance. During this time, she happens upon what she considers her most valuable find-- her Pip-boy 2000, and the ability to listen to radio whenever.
At the age of 23 her mother's health started fading, she had to stop leaving on prospecting trips so she could spend as much of Flower with Eyes' remaining time with her as possible. The New Reno radio tower had been revived sometime when she was 21 or 22-- it needed music and DJs, with a Pipboy full of recorded music and scavenged holotapes galore, she got the job. This job let her finally express a passion that had been mostly silent up until this point and well as remain close to her mother, and watch over her in her decaying health.
Flower with Eyes died sleeping next to her daughter, full of regrets the she had failed her tribe, but happy she'd at least succeeded her daughter.
Lily worked through the sadness of her loss. She eventually became a New Reno's resident 'Audio Procurement Specialist,' and a part-time DJ with a hell of a music taste. She regales listeners with stories she's picked up of the beforetimes, from ghosts and men. In a certain sense she's content, the caps are good, she lives in a radio station-- she's a voice of upper Nevada with admirers and fans. In another sense, though, she feels fed up with being where she is-- she never forgot her childhood dream of seeing the world, to honor her gift for her mother, to do... something.
Ghosts whisper in the shadows of something coming from New Vegas, Lily-of-the-Valley's curiosity is piqued.
http://www.roleplayerguild.com/topics/45836-fallout-the-long-haul-always-open-to-new-players/ic
Lily-Of-The-Valley/Flower with Horns
Age: 26
Appearance: Lily stands tall at 5'11" with an average, if not slightly smaller figure. She has short black hair framing inquisitive brown eyes and a light olive complexion. Her expressions tend to remain neutral, with her most powerful smile being a slight smirk. Her outfits tend to be basic and earth colored, either a dark tank-top or a T-shirt and traditional tribal garb. Added to this is obligatory wasteland dirt and wear, her small frame is also colored by tribal messages and tattoos, both permanent and temporrary. She's got a dark air about her and smells like alcohol and aloe vera.
Race: Human (Psyker), Permanently altered by tribal potions and salves
Skills:
Primary: Survival, Medicine *(More First Aid experience than Doctor)
Secondary: Gambling
SPECIAL:
STR 2 - You don't even lift! I doubt you could beat an egg with a hammer!
PER 8 (+1) - You've made up for your natural lack of athletic aptitude with an unnatural perception of things. Forces you can't quite understand alert you of things even more perceptive people would miss, this has allowed you a pretty great avoidance of fatal danger.
END 3 - Not quite made of glass-- more like a particularly hardy porcelain.
CHA 6 - You'd be better at persuasion if you were a little less... forceful... at times. Still, you're better at using your gift of gab than the average wastelander.
INT 5 - You know things, okay! Sure, on paper you might not appear to have anything above average going on in your head, but you compensate a lack of book smarts with street smarts and an extensive knowledge of the beforetimes and its beautiful, beautiful music.
AGL 7 - You may not have the endurance to sustain a run, but you certainly have the agility to get away in the moment. You aren't an Olympic gymnast, but you can handle parkour most people couldn't.
LUK 8 (+1) - You're lucky, very lucky. Fortune in gambling aside, you aren't very good at traditional combat, your good fortune has helped you avoid what the wasteland typically has in store for those not gifted in the bloody arts.
Perks:
Kama Sutra Master:
When it comes to pleasing sexually, you wrote the gods damned book.
Friends on the Other Side:
You have a dark aura about you-- your mind, body, and soul have been permanently altered by dark forces no one can quite understand.
You see the ghostly apparitions and they see you too. Lucky for you, it's as a friend.
Equipment:
Not much to note about her clothing, the hooded poncho is one of the last surviving artifacts of the Crazy Horn tribe, it was passed down from witchdoctor to witchdoctor, and it is the only thing Lily has of her mother. It has a boon of history and Crazy Horn magicks within its fibers. The wearer is said to have the devil's own luck. The rest of her clothing is a mixture of the average wastelander crossed with a forgotten tribal's style.
Besides a few tribal tattoos, her bow and quiver are her last remnants of the tribal lifestyle she once led in the past, it's also the only weapon she shows any efficiency with.
She currently has 23 arrows made.
More of a tool than a weapon, she also possesses a multi-function retractable shovel.
An average sized Valut-tec messenger bag, by Vault-tec, filled with:
what can be typically found in a first aid kit, as well as herbs, fruits, vegetables and rare wasteland plants
An older model Pip-boy 2000, not wrist mounted, it works comparable to a clunky smart phone. Almost all of its memory is taken up by unique music of the beforetimes and the present
A Nevada copy of the Wasteland Survival Guide
Cat's Paw, issues 1 through 4
A copy of The Lavender Flower
8 stimpaks
A lethal amount of mentats, grape mentats, and party time mentats
A mutfruit
A few befortime discs, cassettes, and holotapes
somewhere between 300-700 bottlecaps, from Nuka-Cola, Sunset Sarsaparilla and assorted beer bottles
And several discarded "Jimmy Hat" wrappers
what can be typically found in a first aid kit, as well as herbs, fruits, vegetables and rare wasteland plants
An older model Pip-boy 2000, not wrist mounted, it works comparable to a clunky smart phone. Almost all of its memory is taken up by unique music of the beforetimes and the present
A Nevada copy of the Wasteland Survival Guide
Cat's Paw, issues 1 through 4
A copy of The Lavender Flower
8 stimpaks
A lethal amount of mentats, grape mentats, and party time mentats
A mutfruit
A few befortime discs, cassettes, and holotapes
somewhere between 300-700 bottlecaps, from Nuka-Cola, Sunset Sarsaparilla and assorted beer bottles
And several discarded "Jimmy Hat" wrappers
Character history:
Some say it takes a village. For a time, Lily had just that.
Originally named Flower with Horns, she was born in 2270 as a baby of the Crazy Horns, a dwindling nomadic tribe that primarily operated in Northern Nevada. Her father was a lowly hunter, and her mother was the tribe witchdoctor and resident psychic. Her tribesmen were like family, regardless of blood, each member doing their part to raise the child. Tribal life is hard in the wasteland-- all the more when you survive not by combat, but by relying on the guidance of spirits, apparitions, dark forces-- the unknown. In this tribe, babies were miracles from the spirits alone, but a child of the tribe's last living psychic? She was practically born a goddess. Surely under the training of her mother this child would bring about salvation!
So under the training of her mother, Flower with Eyes, she went. Starting the day Lily could talk, Flower with Eyes set about training her daughter in the old ways of mysticism, herbalism, and living off the land like an ancient Crazy Horn-- teaching her the names of flowers and fungi and how to make poultices, potions and poisons. By the time Lily was 5, Flower with Eyes began testing her psychic ability, training her from a young age to be in tune with the dark forces not visible to those without the sight. By the time Lily was 7 she could be considered an apprentice medium. She had communicated with ghosts, had visions of places she was not, could hear the past.
Yet she had never spent a day playing with her friends-- she didn't even have any. Children her age went on hunting trips with heir parents and friends, the little flower could barely fire a bow. Her father's face blended into those of the tribe, all faces that looked at her with love... and fear. Everyone smiled at her from a distance. She had a village, but she was solitary. Flower with Eyes was more of a mentor than a mother, when Lily asked her Flower with Eyes about this, she cryptically replied, "To live in the world of the living and the world of spirits is to tear yourself in two, the decision has been made for us, little Flower, we must honor our gifts."
"Do not let their reverence and fear tear you, my young one."
Lily didn't argue, but she didn't agree with her mother either. Flower with Eyes saw this, but trusted not the spirits-- but her daughter, to do the honorable thing. Despite a growing uneasiness in Lily, this trust was well placed. Years passed and Lily studied the mysticism and shamanism of Crazy Horn ghosts, the tribe survived-- only barely, as a competing, militaristic tribe, the White Legs, grew in the region-- but they did survive, which, for a time, was enough.
Only for a time.
Flower with Eyes told of his coming, a 10 year old Lily saw him as well. A New Canaanite dressed in grays, coming to the Crazy Horns with a proposal. The Tribal chief welcomed the self-proclaimed missionary, Daniel, with open arms. Crazy Horn way of life left allies few and far in between, and an alliance with New Canaan could help alleviate some of the tribes sorrows brought about by the growing threat of the White Legs. After a feast and a tribal ceremony welcoming the Mormon stranger, a meeting was held between the Crazy Horns chief, Daniel, the tribe Witchdoctor and her apprentice. Lily marveled at the man as the adults spoke, sure, she had seen ghostly apparitions and beforetime visions with men who looked like Daniel-- but this was her first time seeing such a figure in the flesh, his clothes were alien to her as well, and the device on his back... She heard the war-chief talk about those; G-U-A-N-Z. Guanz they were called, like bows, but louder, with small and fast arrows.
It was all so impressive to her, in recent memory, the only other time she felt such awe is whenever she could talk to a ghost about the beforetimes (and was able to understand their English, with the little she knew). The meeting was fateful-- important matters were being discussed that pertained to the tribe's future, she scarcely understood any of it though, more interested in simply hearing someone speak English in the flesh-- someone who wasn't her mother, anyway. The meeting had much more grave meanings for her mother, the Chief, and the tribe as a whole. But for Lily-of-the-Valley, it was the day she decided she wanted to leave-- to see the world she had only just now begun to learn about, to learn from ghosts and people and experience everything that inspired awe in her, like the man Daniel.
The following months saw major shifts in the Crazy Horns modus operandi. The Mormon missionary, Daniel, assumed executive power over the tribe in all but name. They stopped moving around and made a home near Zion national park. Hunting stopped being the focus of the tribe, guns were introduced, and those who could, learned how to fight as the skirmishes with the White Legs increased as time passed. Daniel was unsure if he was doing the right thing, but he continued, backed fully by the chief of the tribe.
Flower with Eyes spent so much time using her own sight to aid in the coming war with the White Legs that for what felt like the first time in her life, Lily was free. She spent almost all of this free time pestering Daniel, trying to learn of him, the outside, what he called Mormonism, everything-- radio and music particularly interested her. Ghostly voices that sing for you whenever you want! What *isn't* to love? They bonded, he eventually taught the girl how to speak proper English. When not with Daniel, Lily felt it appropriate to learn how to properly use the weapon of her tribe, the wasteland bow. This and more she did with her freedom, she still felt ostracized by her tribes "Fear and reverence" of her, but even without company, she certainly didn't waste her break. These few months may have been some of the best in her young life.
All good things must come to an end though, this particular good thing came to its end a few weeks after her 11th birthday. Flower with Eyes had a single vision the day of the Crazy Horn's march on the White Leg encampment, ghosts of their victims told her of their numbers-- their brutality. Grabbing her daughter's hand, she ran faster than the march of every Crazy Horn fighter, stood in front of Daniel, the Tribe Chief and the full Crazy Horn vanguard, and relayed to them the visions. Relayed the warning. For the first time in the tribe's history, a Chief ignored the warnings of one of it's Witchdoctors. He followed Daniel, and the tribe followed him, they had the Heavenly Father in the sky on their side, not a few spirits on the ground, they couldn't lose.
Without a word, Flower with Eyes took Lily, returned to camp one last time to get a single Brahmin carrying everything they needed, and they began the long walk back to Nevada. Lily hadn't seen her father for weeks.
The entirety of the Crazy Horn fighters were brutally slaughtered that night. Any survivors were sold into slavery.
Mother and daughter traveling alone in the wasteland, vulnerable and weak. They should've been easy prey. But three weeks of walking and they found themselves in New Reno. The two relied on the spirits of the desert to keep them safe, help them hunt and find them a place to settle down, and the reliance paid off. Any differences the two had before were wordlessly forgotten in the journey. Lily cried as the ghosts of her former tribesmen-- the ghost of her father-- caught up to them to say goodbye, and Flower with Eyes burned with a cold resentment that she hadn't done enough to prevent what Daniel led her people into. Lily got her wish, to leaver her tribe and see the world.
But at what cost?
Despite tribal origins, Flower with Eyes and Lily did well in New Reno. Flower with Eyes picked up where she left off in regards to her mystic training in the dark arts, however this was tempered with more freedom for Lily, and time for Lily to learn about new things and explore her own interests. Lily was young, and so was renamed after the flower her tribal name was based off of 'Lily-of-the-Valley,' shortened as Lily to better avoid a tribal stigma. Her last name, Churra, is that of a 4-horned old world sheep, in remembrance of the mutated Chupacabras the Crazy Horns were known for herding and hunting. Flower with Eyes kept her name, not entirely stuck in her old ways, but resigned to the fact that, unlike her daughter, she could never belong to New Reno. To make caps, the pair charged for holistic, tribal mind/body/soul healing, tribal drugs, poultices, potions, and on occasion poison, and psychic readings. The tragedy brought the two closer with time, and the new found freedom granted to her by her mother, as well as the life of the city, brought Lily to life.
The second Battle of the Hoover Dam passed, life moved on, New Reno kept on keeping on. As Lily aged, she healthily began to move away from home, taking on a myriad of odd jobs and learning the in's and out's of more wasteland. At 14 she got paid to advertise for a few casinos and clean up after customers at restaurants, at 15 and 16 she tried petty and not so petty thievery-- it went quite well with the use of her ghosts, her mother didn't approve. For a few months between 16 and 17 she tried merc work, it didn't fit her-- farmhand work fit her even less right before she turned 18. 18 and 19 saw her working as a Cat's Paw prostitute-- she did quite well at that, being what was essentially a flower child raised conservatively, sexual liberation fit her well. Her mother urged her to leave, but even as she neared 20 and began to dabble in prospecting, scavenging, and career gambling, she'd still occasionally work as a call girl for a hundred caps or two, she was always lucky enough to avoid the dangerous customers. By 21 she could scavenge with the best of them, she was better at finding specialty items, through her own perception, luck and paranormal assistance. During this time, she happens upon what she considers her most valuable find-- her Pip-boy 2000, and the ability to listen to radio whenever.
At the age of 23 her mother's health started fading, she had to stop leaving on prospecting trips so she could spend as much of Flower with Eyes' remaining time with her as possible. The New Reno radio tower had been revived sometime when she was 21 or 22-- it needed music and DJs, with a Pipboy full of recorded music and scavenged holotapes galore, she got the job. This job let her finally express a passion that had been mostly silent up until this point and well as remain close to her mother, and watch over her in her decaying health.
Flower with Eyes died sleeping next to her daughter, full of regrets the she had failed her tribe, but happy she'd at least succeeded her daughter.
Lily worked through the sadness of her loss. She eventually became a New Reno's resident 'Audio Procurement Specialist,' and a part-time DJ with a hell of a music taste. She regales listeners with stories she's picked up of the beforetimes, from ghosts and men. In a certain sense she's content, the caps are good, she lives in a radio station-- she's a voice of upper Nevada with admirers and fans. In another sense, though, she feels fed up with being where she is-- she never forgot her childhood dream of seeing the world, to honor her gift for her mother, to do... something.
Ghosts whisper in the shadows of something coming from New Vegas, Lily-of-the-Valley's curiosity is piqued.
Originally named Flower with Horns, she was born in 2270 as a baby of the Crazy Horns, a dwindling nomadic tribe that primarily operated in Northern Nevada. Her father was a lowly hunter, and her mother was the tribe witchdoctor and resident psychic. Her tribesmen were like family, regardless of blood, each member doing their part to raise the child. Tribal life is hard in the wasteland-- all the more when you survive not by combat, but by relying on the guidance of spirits, apparitions, dark forces-- the unknown. In this tribe, babies were miracles from the spirits alone, but a child of the tribe's last living psychic? She was practically born a goddess. Surely under the training of her mother this child would bring about salvation!
So under the training of her mother, Flower with Eyes, she went. Starting the day Lily could talk, Flower with Eyes set about training her daughter in the old ways of mysticism, herbalism, and living off the land like an ancient Crazy Horn-- teaching her the names of flowers and fungi and how to make poultices, potions and poisons. By the time Lily was 5, Flower with Eyes began testing her psychic ability, training her from a young age to be in tune with the dark forces not visible to those without the sight. By the time Lily was 7 she could be considered an apprentice medium. She had communicated with ghosts, had visions of places she was not, could hear the past.
Yet she had never spent a day playing with her friends-- she didn't even have any. Children her age went on hunting trips with heir parents and friends, the little flower could barely fire a bow. Her father's face blended into those of the tribe, all faces that looked at her with love... and fear. Everyone smiled at her from a distance. She had a village, but she was solitary. Flower with Eyes was more of a mentor than a mother, when Lily asked her Flower with Eyes about this, she cryptically replied, "To live in the world of the living and the world of spirits is to tear yourself in two, the decision has been made for us, little Flower, we must honor our gifts."
"Do not let their reverence and fear tear you, my young one."
Lily didn't argue, but she didn't agree with her mother either. Flower with Eyes saw this, but trusted not the spirits-- but her daughter, to do the honorable thing. Despite a growing uneasiness in Lily, this trust was well placed. Years passed and Lily studied the mysticism and shamanism of Crazy Horn ghosts, the tribe survived-- only barely, as a competing, militaristic tribe, the White Legs, grew in the region-- but they did survive, which, for a time, was enough.
Only for a time.
Flower with Eyes told of his coming, a 10 year old Lily saw him as well. A New Canaanite dressed in grays, coming to the Crazy Horns with a proposal. The Tribal chief welcomed the self-proclaimed missionary, Daniel, with open arms. Crazy Horn way of life left allies few and far in between, and an alliance with New Canaan could help alleviate some of the tribes sorrows brought about by the growing threat of the White Legs. After a feast and a tribal ceremony welcoming the Mormon stranger, a meeting was held between the Crazy Horns chief, Daniel, the tribe Witchdoctor and her apprentice. Lily marveled at the man as the adults spoke, sure, she had seen ghostly apparitions and beforetime visions with men who looked like Daniel-- but this was her first time seeing such a figure in the flesh, his clothes were alien to her as well, and the device on his back... She heard the war-chief talk about those; G-U-A-N-Z. Guanz they were called, like bows, but louder, with small and fast arrows.
It was all so impressive to her, in recent memory, the only other time she felt such awe is whenever she could talk to a ghost about the beforetimes (and was able to understand their English, with the little she knew). The meeting was fateful-- important matters were being discussed that pertained to the tribe's future, she scarcely understood any of it though, more interested in simply hearing someone speak English in the flesh-- someone who wasn't her mother, anyway. The meeting had much more grave meanings for her mother, the Chief, and the tribe as a whole. But for Lily-of-the-Valley, it was the day she decided she wanted to leave-- to see the world she had only just now begun to learn about, to learn from ghosts and people and experience everything that inspired awe in her, like the man Daniel.
The following months saw major shifts in the Crazy Horns modus operandi. The Mormon missionary, Daniel, assumed executive power over the tribe in all but name. They stopped moving around and made a home near Zion national park. Hunting stopped being the focus of the tribe, guns were introduced, and those who could, learned how to fight as the skirmishes with the White Legs increased as time passed. Daniel was unsure if he was doing the right thing, but he continued, backed fully by the chief of the tribe.
Flower with Eyes spent so much time using her own sight to aid in the coming war with the White Legs that for what felt like the first time in her life, Lily was free. She spent almost all of this free time pestering Daniel, trying to learn of him, the outside, what he called Mormonism, everything-- radio and music particularly interested her. Ghostly voices that sing for you whenever you want! What *isn't* to love? They bonded, he eventually taught the girl how to speak proper English. When not with Daniel, Lily felt it appropriate to learn how to properly use the weapon of her tribe, the wasteland bow. This and more she did with her freedom, she still felt ostracized by her tribes "Fear and reverence" of her, but even without company, she certainly didn't waste her break. These few months may have been some of the best in her young life.
All good things must come to an end though, this particular good thing came to its end a few weeks after her 11th birthday. Flower with Eyes had a single vision the day of the Crazy Horn's march on the White Leg encampment, ghosts of their victims told her of their numbers-- their brutality. Grabbing her daughter's hand, she ran faster than the march of every Crazy Horn fighter, stood in front of Daniel, the Tribe Chief and the full Crazy Horn vanguard, and relayed to them the visions. Relayed the warning. For the first time in the tribe's history, a Chief ignored the warnings of one of it's Witchdoctors. He followed Daniel, and the tribe followed him, they had the Heavenly Father in the sky on their side, not a few spirits on the ground, they couldn't lose.
Without a word, Flower with Eyes took Lily, returned to camp one last time to get a single Brahmin carrying everything they needed, and they began the long walk back to Nevada. Lily hadn't seen her father for weeks.
The entirety of the Crazy Horn fighters were brutally slaughtered that night. Any survivors were sold into slavery.
Mother and daughter traveling alone in the wasteland, vulnerable and weak. They should've been easy prey. But three weeks of walking and they found themselves in New Reno. The two relied on the spirits of the desert to keep them safe, help them hunt and find them a place to settle down, and the reliance paid off. Any differences the two had before were wordlessly forgotten in the journey. Lily cried as the ghosts of her former tribesmen-- the ghost of her father-- caught up to them to say goodbye, and Flower with Eyes burned with a cold resentment that she hadn't done enough to prevent what Daniel led her people into. Lily got her wish, to leaver her tribe and see the world.
But at what cost?
Despite tribal origins, Flower with Eyes and Lily did well in New Reno. Flower with Eyes picked up where she left off in regards to her mystic training in the dark arts, however this was tempered with more freedom for Lily, and time for Lily to learn about new things and explore her own interests. Lily was young, and so was renamed after the flower her tribal name was based off of 'Lily-of-the-Valley,' shortened as Lily to better avoid a tribal stigma. Her last name, Churra, is that of a 4-horned old world sheep, in remembrance of the mutated Chupacabras the Crazy Horns were known for herding and hunting. Flower with Eyes kept her name, not entirely stuck in her old ways, but resigned to the fact that, unlike her daughter, she could never belong to New Reno. To make caps, the pair charged for holistic, tribal mind/body/soul healing, tribal drugs, poultices, potions, and on occasion poison, and psychic readings. The tragedy brought the two closer with time, and the new found freedom granted to her by her mother, as well as the life of the city, brought Lily to life.
The second Battle of the Hoover Dam passed, life moved on, New Reno kept on keeping on. As Lily aged, she healthily began to move away from home, taking on a myriad of odd jobs and learning the in's and out's of more wasteland. At 14 she got paid to advertise for a few casinos and clean up after customers at restaurants, at 15 and 16 she tried petty and not so petty thievery-- it went quite well with the use of her ghosts, her mother didn't approve. For a few months between 16 and 17 she tried merc work, it didn't fit her-- farmhand work fit her even less right before she turned 18. 18 and 19 saw her working as a Cat's Paw prostitute-- she did quite well at that, being what was essentially a flower child raised conservatively, sexual liberation fit her well. Her mother urged her to leave, but even as she neared 20 and began to dabble in prospecting, scavenging, and career gambling, she'd still occasionally work as a call girl for a hundred caps or two, she was always lucky enough to avoid the dangerous customers. By 21 she could scavenge with the best of them, she was better at finding specialty items, through her own perception, luck and paranormal assistance. During this time, she happens upon what she considers her most valuable find-- her Pip-boy 2000, and the ability to listen to radio whenever.
At the age of 23 her mother's health started fading, she had to stop leaving on prospecting trips so she could spend as much of Flower with Eyes' remaining time with her as possible. The New Reno radio tower had been revived sometime when she was 21 or 22-- it needed music and DJs, with a Pipboy full of recorded music and scavenged holotapes galore, she got the job. This job let her finally express a passion that had been mostly silent up until this point and well as remain close to her mother, and watch over her in her decaying health.
Flower with Eyes died sleeping next to her daughter, full of regrets the she had failed her tribe, but happy she'd at least succeeded her daughter.
Lily worked through the sadness of her loss. She eventually became a New Reno's resident 'Audio Procurement Specialist,' and a part-time DJ with a hell of a music taste. She regales listeners with stories she's picked up of the beforetimes, from ghosts and men. In a certain sense she's content, the caps are good, she lives in a radio station-- she's a voice of upper Nevada with admirers and fans. In another sense, though, she feels fed up with being where she is-- she never forgot her childhood dream of seeing the world, to honor her gift for her mother, to do... something.
Ghosts whisper in the shadows of something coming from New Vegas, Lily-of-the-Valley's curiosity is piqued.
Idk where this revision was for.
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