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Number OneC H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
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B L O O D
"Gone, gone the form of man..."
J A S O N B L O O D ♦ P R I V A T E I N V E S T I G A T O R ♦ P O R T L A N D, O R E G O N
O R I G I N S:
A man cursed with a demon, Jason Blood is forever doomed to walk the Earth, a man with no place to call home, and no persons to call friends. A world-leading expert on the occult and demonology. He has walked the Earth since the 6th Century, after the wizard Merlin bound the increasingly uncontrollable threat of Etrigan The Demon to his mortal soul.
Now his services are sought by other lost souls, those without hope who turn to the expert to delve into cases and mysteries that can't be solved or collaborated by the mundane authorities of the mortal plane. Drawn into
a web of lies and deceit, Blood must unravel a missing persons case that leads him on a blood trial, uncovering old skeletons before all hell breaks loose on the West Coast.
Now his services are sought by other lost souls, those without hope who turn to the expert to delve into cases and mysteries that can't be solved or collaborated by the mundane authorities of the mortal plane. Drawn into
a web of lies and deceit, Blood must unravel a missing persons case that leads him on a blood trial, uncovering old skeletons before all hell breaks loose on the West Coast.
S A M P L E P O S T:
“Cold,”
A gaunt man leaned over the body of the girl, his eyes wandering around the moss-covered forest she had been so hastily discarded in. Limbs askew, clothes torn, makeup smudged from tears. There was no care, no respect in this killing. Rigour mortis had passed, meaning the body had been left for over a day.
Odd that nothing else had preyed on its flesh.
A gloved hand slowly rolled the head to the side. The neck had been attacked, repeatedly by the looks of it. Numerous markings from a pair of puncture marks marred the now pale flesh. Whomever, or whatever had done this had missed the vein the first few times.
Inexperienced, fledgling.
The puncture marks confirmed what Blood had hypothesized, yet left many more questions. He thought he was tracking a much older vampire. This was the work of someone more recently killed.
He sniffed the air, the smell of a canine moving closer in the distance. Muttering a small incantation under his breath, Blood cast a spell to hone his hearing, the sounds of boots trodding the forest floor like drum beats in his ears while they chased the lumbering bloodhound that drew closer with every second Blood remained by the body.
He needed to leave.
Moving his hands quickly, Jason conjured himself an echo of the crime scene, storing the recreation in the gem of his ring before he beat a quick retreat uphill, back to the road where his car was waiting for him. Climbing into the seat of the ‘67 Impala, he turned the key to the heavy block engine as the black coupe roared to life.
“Portland Police!” A voice yelled from outside the car and Jason floored the pedal. The rear wheel drive sprayed gravel towards the officer who struggled to draw his weapon in time before the red taillights of the large Chevy disappeared down the twisting backroads amongst the redwoods.
“Did you get the plate?” The lead detective called to the officer from the ravine floor as the officer looked around dazed and confused.
“What plate?”
“On the suspect’s vehicle.” The detective replied, taking a few steps forward before the officer suddenly collapsed to the ground and began convulsing. Blood was no fool, a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala was sure to draw attention and be easy to identify. However, a simple jinx on the plate meant an easy escape.
“I need medical help over here!” The detective roared, looking towards the road before attending to this officer.
There was more at work here than met the eye.
A gaunt man leaned over the body of the girl, his eyes wandering around the moss-covered forest she had been so hastily discarded in. Limbs askew, clothes torn, makeup smudged from tears. There was no care, no respect in this killing. Rigour mortis had passed, meaning the body had been left for over a day.
Odd that nothing else had preyed on its flesh.
A gloved hand slowly rolled the head to the side. The neck had been attacked, repeatedly by the looks of it. Numerous markings from a pair of puncture marks marred the now pale flesh. Whomever, or whatever had done this had missed the vein the first few times.
Inexperienced, fledgling.
The puncture marks confirmed what Blood had hypothesized, yet left many more questions. He thought he was tracking a much older vampire. This was the work of someone more recently killed.
He sniffed the air, the smell of a canine moving closer in the distance. Muttering a small incantation under his breath, Blood cast a spell to hone his hearing, the sounds of boots trodding the forest floor like drum beats in his ears while they chased the lumbering bloodhound that drew closer with every second Blood remained by the body.
He needed to leave.
Moving his hands quickly, Jason conjured himself an echo of the crime scene, storing the recreation in the gem of his ring before he beat a quick retreat uphill, back to the road where his car was waiting for him. Climbing into the seat of the ‘67 Impala, he turned the key to the heavy block engine as the black coupe roared to life.
“Portland Police!” A voice yelled from outside the car and Jason floored the pedal. The rear wheel drive sprayed gravel towards the officer who struggled to draw his weapon in time before the red taillights of the large Chevy disappeared down the twisting backroads amongst the redwoods.
“Did you get the plate?” The lead detective called to the officer from the ravine floor as the officer looked around dazed and confused.
“What plate?”
“On the suspect’s vehicle.” The detective replied, taking a few steps forward before the officer suddenly collapsed to the ground and began convulsing. Blood was no fool, a black 1967 Chevrolet Impala was sure to draw attention and be easy to identify. However, a simple jinx on the plate meant an easy escape.
“I need medical help over here!” The detective roared, looking towards the road before attending to this officer.
There was more at work here than met the eye.
P O S T C A T A L O G:
Issue #1 - Who You Gonna Call?:
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A L
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W O N D E R W O M A N
"You must be full of axé if you're choosing to challenge me."
Y A R A F L O R ♦ G R A D S T U D E N T ♦ B O I S E, I D A H O
O R I G I N S:
During the height of the first World War, the Allied Forces gained the upper hand from an unlikely source; an Amazonian Princess hailing from the island of Themyscria. To outsiders, Themyscria was the mythical 'Paradise Island', home to only beautiful Amazon women, or so the story went. It was only when Captain Steve Trevor was shot down and crashed on the shores of Paradise Island, that Themyscria went from legend to reality. With the aid of Princess Diana of Themyscria, the Allied Forces gained the upper hand and ultimately triumphed in the First World War.
But soon fact was considered fiction and history forgot the 'Wonder Woman'. Princess Diana returned home after the war, having seen enough of 'Man's World'. But her warnings of the world outside was not enough to deter others from venturing from Themyscria's shore and so it was at this time other Amazonians began to wonder about the world beyond the island's shores before a few dared brave the journey to Man's World.
Desiring to see the world outside of Themyscria; the Amazonian, Aella, ventured beyond the shores of Paradise Island and sought out their sister tribe in Brazil. It was here that Aella was seduced by a local deity and would give birth to the child later named Yara Flor. Unfortunately for Yara, her mother was taken from her when she was young, leaving her in the care of her 'Aunt' Renata. Relocating to the United States, Yara would grow up without knowing of her true heritage. To the outside world and even herself, Yara Flor was just an ordinary farm girl living in the small community of Boise, Idaho. As she began to mature, her gifts manifested resulting in speed, strength and other abilities that Renata had not been prepared to deal with. Keeping these things a secret from the world, Yara never revealed them to anyone else until one fateful trip to New York.
But soon fact was considered fiction and history forgot the 'Wonder Woman'. Princess Diana returned home after the war, having seen enough of 'Man's World'. But her warnings of the world outside was not enough to deter others from venturing from Themyscria's shore and so it was at this time other Amazonians began to wonder about the world beyond the island's shores before a few dared brave the journey to Man's World.
Desiring to see the world outside of Themyscria; the Amazonian, Aella, ventured beyond the shores of Paradise Island and sought out their sister tribe in Brazil. It was here that Aella was seduced by a local deity and would give birth to the child later named Yara Flor. Unfortunately for Yara, her mother was taken from her when she was young, leaving her in the care of her 'Aunt' Renata. Relocating to the United States, Yara would grow up without knowing of her true heritage. To the outside world and even herself, Yara Flor was just an ordinary farm girl living in the small community of Boise, Idaho. As she began to mature, her gifts manifested resulting in speed, strength and other abilities that Renata had not been prepared to deal with. Keeping these things a secret from the world, Yara never revealed them to anyone else until one fateful trip to New York.
S A M P L E P O S T:
Jolting awake, Yara's eyes slowly adjusted to the unfamiliar darkness. At first, her surroundings were almost foreign, the smells too clean, too natural and the world outside was far too quiet. These were just the first few hints that Yara was no longer in her apartment. Clues continued to fall in the forms of the faded Jonas Brothers poster to one of Bieber and even a half-hung One Direction graphic. This dim room could only be the bedroom she grew up in. The world outside was not the bustling city of Boise, it was rural Idaho, more specifically the farm belonging to her Aunt and Uncle.
None of that changed the fact that for Yara, it was still markedly too quiet.
It had been getting harder for Yara to sleep over the past few nights. Her dreams were haunted with visions of bat-like eldritch horrors and their horrible screeches. There was a longing within her that she wasn't sure how to sate, a calling to travel away from this quaint life. A calling to an adventure far from here.
Perhaps her need for adventure rose from the simple fact that no one was looking to hire here in Boise. Any job that wasn't helping her Aunt Renata work the potato fields would certainly feel like an adventure at this point. An exasperated sigh escaped from between her pouting lips blowing a few loose strands of her raven-coloured hair away from her face. Yara had already put in six years between her undergraduate and graduate degrees while still fully knowing she had yet another two years of clinical experience before she'd be a fully certified speech pathologist.
It honestly felt like her life was stuck at the starting line.
Slumping down on the porch swing, the young woman let the cool night air wash over her while she sipped a half-finished tea absently left beside her bed. Yara's mind pivoted away from both school and her lack of a career as a brown bat stretched its wings under the porch's awning. The sight of the flying rodent only sent her thoughts racing back to the series of nightmares that had been haunting her slumber.
Watching the curious creature, she couldn't help but feel as though the bat was seemingly staring back at her. Flapping its wings, it let out a little screech before dropping from its roost and disappearing into the night. Sinking further into the cushioned swing, Yara felt herself relax. It was only now that she realized she had been so stiffly watching the bat. Satisfied she wasn't about to face the monsters of from her nightmares, she took another sip of the lukewarm liquid. The flat taste caused her nose to crinkle in disgust, reminding her why it had been abandoned in the first place.
A terrible noise suddenly broke the silence. The horrible tasting drink suddenly seemed so far away. The sound of wings beating against the night air ended the stillness of the cool night as Yara spun around frantically looking to locate the sound. Above the horizon, in the light of the pale moon, appeared the silhouette of what appeared to be a horse. Its lone rider, slumped alongside the horse's mane, seemingly barely hanging on.
Losing altitude rapidly, the animal tried with no avail to land. Its feet flew up from underneath it, only to send both it and its rider tumbling through the nearly mature potato plants. Jumping down from the porch, Yara moved quickly through the rows upon rows of plants, making the split-second decision to check on the rider instead of the winged animal.
The rider, a blonde-haired woman, was adorned in armour. Very familiar armour. Almost anyone in America would have recognized Wonder Woman, but Yara especially was a fan. Kneeling down beside Cassandra, Yara cradled her head, checking the neck for injury.
"I've got you," Yara muttered towards the unconscious woman. Her eyes widened as she surveyed the wounds on both the superhero and her steed. Long claw marks raked them both, claw marks that were all too familiar to Yara. Without warning, Cassandra suddenly clamped a hand around Yara's arm nearly scaring the darker-haired woman out of her skin.
"I'm here to protect-" The blonde Amazon managed to spit out, struggling to stay conscious, "...y-you." She added before her eyes closed, her body going limp in Yara's arms. Looking back and forth again between the pegasus and the superhero in her Aunt's field, Yara suddenly found herself unusually short on words.
Suddenly her nightmares were feeling a lot more real.
None of that changed the fact that for Yara, it was still markedly too quiet.
It had been getting harder for Yara to sleep over the past few nights. Her dreams were haunted with visions of bat-like eldritch horrors and their horrible screeches. There was a longing within her that she wasn't sure how to sate, a calling to travel away from this quaint life. A calling to an adventure far from here.
Perhaps her need for adventure rose from the simple fact that no one was looking to hire here in Boise. Any job that wasn't helping her Aunt Renata work the potato fields would certainly feel like an adventure at this point. An exasperated sigh escaped from between her pouting lips blowing a few loose strands of her raven-coloured hair away from her face. Yara had already put in six years between her undergraduate and graduate degrees while still fully knowing she had yet another two years of clinical experience before she'd be a fully certified speech pathologist.
It honestly felt like her life was stuck at the starting line.
Slumping down on the porch swing, the young woman let the cool night air wash over her while she sipped a half-finished tea absently left beside her bed. Yara's mind pivoted away from both school and her lack of a career as a brown bat stretched its wings under the porch's awning. The sight of the flying rodent only sent her thoughts racing back to the series of nightmares that had been haunting her slumber.
Watching the curious creature, she couldn't help but feel as though the bat was seemingly staring back at her. Flapping its wings, it let out a little screech before dropping from its roost and disappearing into the night. Sinking further into the cushioned swing, Yara felt herself relax. It was only now that she realized she had been so stiffly watching the bat. Satisfied she wasn't about to face the monsters of from her nightmares, she took another sip of the lukewarm liquid. The flat taste caused her nose to crinkle in disgust, reminding her why it had been abandoned in the first place.
A terrible noise suddenly broke the silence. The horrible tasting drink suddenly seemed so far away. The sound of wings beating against the night air ended the stillness of the cool night as Yara spun around frantically looking to locate the sound. Above the horizon, in the light of the pale moon, appeared the silhouette of what appeared to be a horse. Its lone rider, slumped alongside the horse's mane, seemingly barely hanging on.
Losing altitude rapidly, the animal tried with no avail to land. Its feet flew up from underneath it, only to send both it and its rider tumbling through the nearly mature potato plants. Jumping down from the porch, Yara moved quickly through the rows upon rows of plants, making the split-second decision to check on the rider instead of the winged animal.
The rider, a blonde-haired woman, was adorned in armour. Very familiar armour. Almost anyone in America would have recognized Wonder Woman, but Yara especially was a fan. Kneeling down beside Cassandra, Yara cradled her head, checking the neck for injury.
"I've got you," Yara muttered towards the unconscious woman. Her eyes widened as she surveyed the wounds on both the superhero and her steed. Long claw marks raked them both, claw marks that were all too familiar to Yara. Without warning, Cassandra suddenly clamped a hand around Yara's arm nearly scaring the darker-haired woman out of her skin.
"I'm here to protect-" The blonde Amazon managed to spit out, struggling to stay conscious, "...y-you." She added before her eyes closed, her body going limp in Yara's arms. Looking back and forth again between the pegasus and the superhero in her Aunt's field, Yara suddenly found herself unusually short on words.
Suddenly her nightmares were feeling a lot more real.
P O S T C A T A L O G:
A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed interactions and stories.
