Mictlan93

CLOSED

@Altered Tundra I've been looking for another Demigod-based RP to hop into after the previous one I attended took a dive into oblivion. And by the sound of things, this one just opened back up? I was hoping I could insert an old character of mine here (reworked so he fits better within this setting, of course), a angst-riddled son of Demeter that has a habit of dragged along on endeavors by much happier people.

As far as posting goes, are the pictures absolutely necessary for posting? As long as I've had my character, I never did find an actor I would think matches the likeness of my character (though, it seems your character, Jay, checks off a few of Gabe's appearance details which I thought was kind of funny). Could I show you the old sheet to see how much of the existing information lines up with what's presented here?

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

As of the time of writing, Quincy is my most recent character, created for a RP about a world in peril and defiant group of dragon riders ready to save it. Quincy's a bit of a problematic individual, impulsive and too honest for his own good. The things keep him from going full Justin Case would be his inferiority complex with his superiors, and his adorable sea monster Alejandra.

Quincy Odell

Quincy James “Jamie” Odell

Rider of Alejandra

APPEARANCE— Quincy’s about 5’11”. Thin, toned, athletic frame. Long, muscular arms. Black hair buzzed down, piercing light brown eyes. Fairly tan skinned, marked from head to toe in both fresh and fading scarring.

Clothing is a contradicting subject for Quincy. Spending most of his time in the warm waters of the coast, he usually won't be seen wearing much (if anything at all). If he absolutely has to wear clothes, it’ll most likely be something light and easy to take off. Sleeveless shirts are his favorite. Roomy trousers. A pair of boots that he can slip in and out of with minimal effort. He carries a sandy brown sack across his back, full of assorted clothing articles and other belongings (including a series of spears strapped alongside it.)

AGE— 22
Bonded for 9 years

GENDER— Male

HISTORY— Quincy spent a lot of his time growing up along the east side of Caerel, specifically inhabiting Tyndall Point and Fathom Bay. If you haven’t guessed by now, his mother and father were pretty close followers of the Sea Drakes. They weren’t riders, per se, but the two were close confidants of both Dragon and Rider alike. Instead, the two were researchers, studying the habits, schedules, appetites, and mating rituals of the particular breed.

The two slowed on their findings once Quincy came into the picture, but it didn’t stop the two from introducing their son into the world of the Sea Drakes. Unfortunately, they didn’t initially pique his interest the way his parents would’ve wanted. He thought they were handed the bad end of the evolutionary stick. “Can’t fly? Can’t breathe fire? What’s the point? They’re nothing more than glorified water snakes!” Despite his unsavory opinions, he’d only seen them from afar up to that point, and never really had any intentions on meeting them up close.

That is, until one particularly stormy night. Rider friends of the parents informed the two that a Drake was expecting an arrival soon. His parents thought it kind of cute that a Drake was planned to deliver a clutch on the same night as their son’s birthday, so they took him down to the beach to see the beautiful process in person. Naturally, Quincy didn’t understand what was so “beautiful” about a massive beast plopping out slimy eggs, but he reluctantly went along anyway. Two hours of watching a Dragon go through labor (in the rain, no less) was about as exciting for the boy as you’d expect. Didn’t help that the storm only got worse as the hours progressed. “Welp, thanks for nothing, mom and dad. Twas a mighty eventful thirteenth birthday.” As bratty as he could be, Quincy began storming off the beach. He didn’t get very far, however, as the storm reached a fever pitch. Winds blew him back, and a fierce stroke of lightning cut down heavy flora, pinning him underneath.

Before his parents could rush to help, Momma Sea Drake (having welcomed her eight, already hatching eggs into the world) had acted first, doing much to remove the heavy plant Quincy was stuck under. As soon as it was clear, one of the newly hatched Sea Drakes came to their mother’s side, curious and inquisitive. The lone female born out of a series of males.

That was years ago. Now, Quincy and Alejandra are just about inseparable. That plucky little Sea Drake took a liking to her now master, and his opinion of the Drakes have lightened up since then.

PERSONALITY— Brash and impulsive would be a few of the words used to sum up the boy’s usual demeanor. Has a tendency to talk light of a situation, to understate the dire circumstances of, well, just about anything. His mouth has definitely gotten him in trouble on several occasions. So, what’s the deal with this guy? Is it all some sort of defense mechanism? Or is he just a naive asshole? Who knows, might be the former, might be the latter. Either way, don’t let his foolhardy ways deter you. He has a strong sense of duty as well as a massive respect for his elders and superiors.

TALENTS/SKILLS—

• Swimmer: Living along the beach and raising a Sea Drake has made swimming second nature for Quincy. He can hold his breath longer than most, and his vision has honed to perceive many things while submerged.
• Athleticism: Kinda comes with being a skilled swimmer and Dragon rider, doesn’t it? Possesses impressive amounts of speed, stamina. Owns tightly coiled frame with a massive wingspan.
• Staff Proficient: Quincy has an affinity for most weapons in the staff category, preferably ones that are thrown, like javelins and spears. Has thought of owning a trident, to really tie the whole “ruler of the sea” look together.

FLAWS/WEAKNESSES—

• Fear of Heights: Ironic, given his initial preference of winged dragons. The phobia is to the point that it immobilizes him completely, and disorients and nauseates him.
• Puckered Arsehole: See PERSONALITY. May or may not have a tendency to get into scuffles due to some of the stupid things he'd say.

EXTRAS—

• Carries three light spears, all about 5 and three quarters feet in length, and tipped with sharpened Black Knight teeth. Uses them to fight, fish, and cook.
• Has a sleeve tattoo from the top of his right shoulder, down to the elbow. A simple Drake-scale pattern with the slightest gradient of blue-green color to it, much like Alejandra’s.

Alejandra

NAME— Alejandra “Allie”
GENDER— Female
BREED— Sea Drake

APPEARANCE— About 9 and a half feet in length, and still growing. Scales are a delightful shade of sea blue/green that easily conceals her in some waters.

PERSONALITY—

• Curious of the world around her, even to this day.
• Playful with her Master. Enjoys swimming games with Quincy.
• Protective, almost motherly so. Quincy calls it annoying, especially if she tends to him around others. He secretly loves it though.

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

Another Adrian, another demigod. Shame about the RP I created him for. One of the speedier RPs I've encountered in the past few years, but it died just as fast. Though, I could possibly understand why. Demigod-centered RPs are a dime a dozen on this site, and adding another to the pot definitely wouldn't be healthy for any sort of potential longevity. That, and i'm sure a little in-character disagreement (early in the RP, of course) left a bad taste in some of the other user's mouths. Ah well. I suppose I could find another Demigod RP to throw him into at some point. I was just getting ready to start on a personal character arc with him before the RP died off.

Adrian Nicholson

Name: Adrian Nicholson
Age: 20
Gender: Male

Godly Parent: Agni, Hindu god of fire
Brief description of godly parent: The Hindu minor god, Agni, is said to be a son of Dyaus and Prithivi; he is called the son of Brahma. An immortal considered a priest that rises before the dawn. He is represented as a red man, having three legs and seven arms, dark eyes, eyebrows and hair. He rides on a ram, and wears a poita (Brahmanical thread). Flames of fire issue from his mouth, and seven streams of glory radiate from his body.

Appearance

Adrian stands at a solid 6 feet. Tan skin, green eyes, and shoulder length black hair usually tied into a bun or ponytail. Facial hair is usually shaved, though he'll let a goatee grow out from time to time. He's usually wearing something very loose, very casual. Maybe a hoodie and basketball shorts, maybe a t-shirt and baggy jeans. If he's not walking around barefoot, then he's wearing flip-flops. Let's be honest, to the uninitiated, he looks like a bum.

Skills/Powers/Weapons: Given his heavenly heritage, Adrian naturally possesses a control over flame. This includes conjuration, manipulation, and resilience. Alongside this remarkable ability, his body boasts feats of impressive speed and durability.

Strengths/Weaknesses: Anyone can tell you, fire is as destructive as it is helpful. And Adrian has these...tendencies. An abundance of flame (say, a wildfire) is uncontrollable in the boy's eyes. Not only that, but such an abundance brings out a urge in him, to keep the flame alive, to help it flourish and spread. In these episodes of arson, he tends to take on a look closer resembling his father. A red skinned, seven armed form, with flames pouring from his lips. With an axe of flame in each hand, he mindlessly lays waste to everything in his vicinity.

It was why he was at the Refuge, after all. He considered it a place to keep his abilities under control. He curses the existence of his godly parent and has no intention on practicing his religion, wishing he was never bestowed with such a "gift".

Other: He keeps these negative urges at bay through meditation, and through general camaraderie and social interaction. He figures if he can keep these urges out of mind and out of body, he can keep them under control. As a result he tends to present himself as approachable and friendly.

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

Ezra is a current character in another Pokemon RP by @WriterRaven that infuses the established Pokemon world with fresh ideas and concepts painstakingly created by Raven himself. Activity in the RP has been on a bit of a break as of late, but those still willing to tell the story (GM Raven, fellow writer and Co-GM @NeoAC, and myself) hang on to the idea of revitalizing the medium. I find there to be tons of potential involving this character and the new world created, so i'm keeping close tabs on this RP for the time being.

Ezra Daly

Name: Ezra Gerald Daly
Age: 20
Sex: Male

Appearance: His active lifestyle and general upbringing have left the young man with a noticeably athletic physique. Thin, lean muscle, like a sprinter or swimmer, as opposed to a bodybuilder. And standing at a wide-shouldered 6 foot 2, it's kinda clear to see why. He's a sporty guy, so naturally you'll mostly see him in athletic shorts and running sneakers. A shirt is usually optional. He has a small, beaded necklace that is almost always on his person, dangling from his neck if not wrapped around his wrist. It has a wood carved charm that he fidgets with from time to time, one that resembles the crest of his ancestors (a stylized, curvy thundercloud, displaying both a sole raindrop, and a bolt of lightning). Being from Mystriver Isles, his skin is noticeably tan. His dark brown hair falls wavy and long, just a little bit past his shoulders. It’s usually in a ponytail of some sort. His eyes are brown, large, and usually doe-like and expressive.

Personality: At first glance, the guy's kinda talkative, like one of those loud, obnoxious personal trainers. Loves being in a conversation, but has a habit of saying wrong things at wrong times. And sometimes he might talk over someone, or change topic naively. He’s the kind of guy to hold several conversations at once. But, he means no wrong. If anything, he likes watching others succeed. He takes pride in looking as approachable as possible, so you'll see him smile a lot. His posture will usually be more relaxed than his figure would imply.

Profession: Ezra was raised to be a Warrior (and naturally it shows). Comfortable with making his parents proud and living up to their wishes, he won't stray too far from that particular career path. But, he also takes joy in training the bodies and minds of Pokémon and person alike.

Talents: An impressive swimmer, as are the most of the people living along the Mystriver coasts, Ezra loves being in water. Either through surfing up a wave, jogging along the shore, or marvelling at a thunderstorm. When he wasn't going through martial arts training, he would play on the beach with his free time, frolicking and tending to the multitude of Pokémon that would occupy the area. It was their natural habitat, after all, he just wanted to befriend all of them.

He picked up his family's affinity for Water and Electric types without a hitch, as well as his empath-like abilities. "It was cute," His mother would describe, "He loved bringing the little ones home. When he'd talk to them, they'd talk back! I’d like to think we all had that phase at one point or another, but Ezra held on to the habit far into his teens."

He was taught the Warrior Skill Shout Cure at his hometown’s Dojo, which his parents found fitting, given the boy’s chatty nature.

Starter Pokémon: Out of the many families of Pokémon inhabiting the isle, Ezra associated with a small clan of Oshawott the most. The youngest of the clan was the one that wanted to join him on his travels to the inland. A little female, just as sporty and talkative as her new travelling companion, named Brie. She knows Tackle, and Water Gun, possesses the hidden Shell Armor ability, and Ezra would describe her nature as Jolly.

Inventory: Ezra carries around large canvas rucksack, filled with the following items:
- 6 Poké Balls, just about enough to have an entire party
- 5 Super Potions
- P$2500 in cash for small expenses
- A week's worth of clothing, including at least one pair of jeans, and a dark blue pullover hoodie
- Additional personal care items, including travel sized athletic supplements, tons of snacks, protein shake powders
- A small first-aid kit for treating minor human injuries
- A matte black PokéLink, a device that he's on almost constantly
- You’ll most likely see it fastened to his bicep in some sort of sport band, with earbuds sticking out of it to keep him connected.

Hometown: Mystriver Isle City, Mystriver Isle, Sengun

Biography: As far back as the elders can remember, the Daly clan were always proud to be Warriors. Fiercely supportive, fathers and mothers would be encouraged by their predecessors to have their offspring embark down the Warrior path.

This was no different for Ezra’s parents, Hera and Jackson Jr. Seeing as they themselves once took up the warrior’s creed, it didn’t take much convincing to do the same for their only son. Rather than being unfairly forced into the lifestyle by two parents, he (alongside equally aged cousins and other family members) was gracefully and carefully eased into the creed, backed by the love and support of his extended family.

For as long as Ezra could walk on his own and form sentences, he was being trained in the field of martial arts. And, along with a formal education, he was taught the history lessons of the region by the his eldest living grandparents.

When the news of Sengun’s own Pokemon league hit the Isles, most of the elders thought it no different than a glorified tourist attraction. But it piqued Ezra’s interest well enough. He may have been to some of the other kingdoms in his youth, but with the idea of the league challenge presenting itself, he would now have a chance to see it all. He could meet new Pokémon, meet new people, and see just where his warrior skills lie amongst the dojos of the land.

Once his mind was made up, his parents could do nothing to stop him. And neither did they want to, seeing it as a chance for their son to dip his feet into the waters of the region. With a packed bag and little Brie at his side, he made for the next airship bound for Regala. A commercial concerning the league mentioned the region’s capital as natural starting point for league participants, and the Pokémon professors willing to assist newcomers.

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

I consider Lammy to be my breakout character of 2015. Another one of those characters that I just enjoyed playing with, interacting with other characters, and fleshing out narrative wise. I've really been able to commit to him, possibly due to my intrigue to the D&D based settings and classes.

Lammy LaSalle

Name: Lamont "Lammy" LaSalle
Age: 24
Sex: Male

Race: Human
Class: Druid
Alignment: Neutral Good

Appearance: It's been argued that Lammy's overall appearance reflects both his personality, and lifestyle. Moderately tan skin covered in dirty splotches, a disheveled, shaggy, black mop of tangled locks (with a seldom braid twisted in here and there) he considers "hair", an equally disheveled goatee, unnaturally bestial hazel irises that one could say sparkle in certain light, callous caked bare feet and hands, and a usually confused disposition. Standing at 6'2" and 155 lbs, Lammy's a tall, stringy fellow that looks like he needs a bath (and most likely does). Imagine if Tarzan was a slacker that could change into any animal he pleased. That's Lammy in a nutshell.

Equipment: Lammy doesn't carry much. No need for money or supplies when you can delve into animal instincts to hunt for food and resources. Other than that and the clothes he'll wear (his trusty, raggedy, dirt brown cloth pants and equally dirty vest), his 4 foot long ironwood quarterstaff (that he uses more as a walking stick than anything), and a carving knife, he tends to travel light. Really light.

Skills and Abilities: An established druid, Lammy is capable of transforming into multiple classifications of fauna. Whether it be a mighty bird of prey, a fearsome dire bear, or a lazy housecat, Lamont has the expanse area of the animal kingdom at his disposal. He can shift into at least two animals once a day, and since he's been on the road, he's been working on strengthening his abilities. Then again, the lazy housecat is his favorite animal to shift into. His sister always excelled where he didn't when it came to magic, so he's a little outclassed when it comes to that.

At his side is his trusty pet, a Red-tailed Hawk named Sheeva. He can communicate with her when he needs to, which seems like all the time. She apparently tells great jokes, and her sass knows no bounds.

Personality: His mom calls him lazy, but he considers himself "understandably uninspired". But no, he's mostly lazy. And a little aimless. He usually needs to be pushed in the right direction in order for him to get things done. That being said, his peculiar upbringing leaves him as a bit of a flower child. As the oldest sibling in a family of druids, Lammy's pretty in tune with nature. And if he's motivated enough, he'll always want to protect it.

Backstory: As noted prior, Lamont belongs to a family of druids. What started out as a adventuring duo sharing common interests, blossomed into a semi-popular family team gaining some groundswell in their hometown. As the kids got older, the mom and dad decide to settle down, with enough amassed funds (from successful quests) to convert their housing into a animal and nature sanctuary. The younger sister, Amaya, matured in a way differently than her older brother. Following in her parent's footsteps, she took up the adventuring mantle, and embarked on quests of her own. Lamont, on the other hand, opted on staying home to help tend to the sanctuary.

It was appreciated at first, but his mom and pop began to realize just how directionless their son had become. One day, Lammy's mother approached him with a short staff made of extremely durable ironwood. "I'm kicking you out~!" Her chipper serenade harshly contrasted such a drastic demand. Before he could properly protest, she began pushing him out the door. "Go out into the world, find you a really big job, and don't come back until you've completed it...or give me grandchildren...preferably both!" She smiled all the while, she meant well for her son.

...And then she promptly slammed the door shut. Lamont sighed. "D'oh well." The least he could do was fly into town. Maybe there was something on offer at the bulletin boards. With a sharp whistle, his trusty hawk companion Sheeva glided to his side. "C'mon Sheev. Let's go find ourselves a job." He said, quickly taking on his own hawk form before flying off.

That was two years ago. Not only had he found himself a really big job in that time, but he and his traveling companions completed it with flying colors. He's yet to have been back home in the time prior, but still plans on returning one day, to show his parents the spoils and souvenirs of his travels. He's on the road, passing through towns, taking on small jobs that worked best with his abilities. At times he'd think back to that very first job, and mull over some of the bigger events with a warm smile on his face. His thoughts would linger towards one of the party members, a lady paladin he grew smitten with. While she was a bit of a fish out of water, and didn't get all of his jokes, she was a fierce warrior whose loyalty towards her friends gave Lammy a new outlook on life. Not too bad looking, either. As the job completed and the party parted ways, Lammy found himself regretting never telling her how he really felt about her. On his travels, he always wondered if their paths would cross once more.

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

Maybe giving Lian a "debut" date wouldn't actually be all that accurate. I mean, she was an accepted character in a futuristic Avatar RP (as the Avatar, no less!) but, due to how the story was supposed to play out, I never got to use her! Interest died off almost immediately, the RP lasting a mere 11 posts before stopping dead in its tracks. Alas, another disappointing venture.

Lian Wei-Na

Name: Lian Wei-Na
Age: 19
Gender: Female

Appearance: Some would say her tomboyish looks would contrast her personality. She stands at about 5'0", with moderate brown skin, dull green eyes (somewhat obscured behind a pair of square rimmed prescription glasses), and glorious wild mane of dark brown hair that would reach down just a little past her shoulders if it were straightened. She has this sort of soft, pear shaped frame to her body, complete with wide hips, stocky thighs, and a pleasantly full derriere.

Her style of dressing has been mostly lifted from the strongly masculine side of her family. Sneakers, baggy jeans and gym shorts, t-shirts, jackets, and hoodies are usually among the preferred items of clothing. When she was snatched up she was wearing a denim jacket, sleeveless green shirt, dingy overalls (its straps hanging loosely at her waist) and some old canvas hi-tops.

Abilities: Lian was bestowed miraculous, wondrous powers upon her. Yet, these were abilities that she would've cursed upon another, rather than herself. The ancient spirit Raava dwells within her, and (alongside the typical glowy-eyed light show) has begun its outward manifestations through the form of beginner’s waterbending, much to Lian's dismay.

Equipment and Bionics: At the time of abduction, Lian was holding no more than the clothes on her back, a wallet full of Yuans, and a Future Industries smartphone. Said items were most likely confiscated by time of rescue.

Personality: Lian's never been one to act out around her parents (or most other elder figures, for that matter). Fairly obedient and doting (with the slightest twinge of resentment) around these sorts of people and her siblings. One would think she would always act this way, yet it's not the case around her similarly aged friends and acquaintances. She’s a bit louder, and not as stubborn as she is full of sass, deep seated self-loathing, and agitated rebuttals. There’s also a bit of pent up anger surging through her person (for several reasons), and she can be easy to erupt given the issue at hand.

Backstory: The Wei-Na family was one full of proud earthbenders. Arrogant, condescending individuals who considered their bending to be the be all end all in terms of elemental control. A family of wide shouldered pro-benders, construction workers, miners, metalbenders and magmabenders all alike. They were all fairly against the Avatar. Elders of the Wei-Na clan considered Korra a "plague that damn near destroyed the world across several occasions" and "should've been pacified the second she created the spirit portals and practically ruined the city". And as old-fashioned and ignorant as it sounded, said ideals were passed down and reinforced through the generations. They considered the Avatar’s death a blessing.

So enter Lian, this quiet little girl made only quieter by her parents as they realized she lacked any real earthbending potential. She swore she could almost hear them calling her a mistake. But, as if to spite the girl, they tried again, and again, and again for an ideal child. Soon Lian had a series of strong baby brothers, born one after another, and all showing wonderful signs of being powerful future earthbenders. Naturally, she was pushed out of the limelight faster than she could register, subtly neglected by her extended family members, and barely loved by her parents. She would fight a winless battle for their affections, and it would only leave her either angry at her own shortcomings, or resentful of her parent’s attitudes towards their daughter. But she’d never dare show it to their faces. So her angers resembled her family's, and her aggravations were turned towards the Avatar, much like everyone else's.

One particular bout of pent up frustrations sent her bolting out of the Wei-Na household one night, failing to hold back tears as she ran to a park. She seethed and fell to her knees as she approached a pond, grinding her teeth to stifle rage filled screams. She ripped at the grass, and stuck the earth, oblivious of the waves of water she was generating until they splashed at her. She paused, staring at the rippling water until she realized a pair of illuminant eyes were glaring back. She was quick to realize that the waves were her doing. And that those glowing eyes were her eyes. "No...Oh no..." She didn't have to have it explained to her. She knew what she was. What could she do? "I...I don't want this!" Could she go to anyone about this? Who could she tell? "My family...my parents..." Their neglectful actions would become full-on malicious. They would disown her for sure. "No...I..." She could barely breathe, exhaling ragged breaths.

At the height of her despair, she was abducted from that very park. Subdued and taken to some unknown location. The search her parents issued was half-hearted and barely lasted a month. They were quick to move past their daughter’s disappearance.

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

Eager to try out a Star Wars based RP, I created Ja'Ysr, a crippled Chiss Sith with a heavy childhood and a grim disposition. He was another one of those characters where I had a bunch of things planned for him, but never got around to them due to the short life span of the RP.

Ja'Ysr Sivir

Name: Ja'Ysr Sivir
Gender: Male
Species: Chiss
Age: 29

Appearance: Naturally for his kind, Ja'Ysr stands at about 6 feet 3 inches. His skin is a blue that almost seems to border ash grey, possibly as a side effect to his training under the sith. His hair is black, and buzzed short along his temples. Typically, his eyes are a solid red, save for the left one. Due to an grievous early aged injury, he was left without a left eye, and a scar that runs down his face (down his forehead, over the eye, and stopping just at his chin) as well as over the bridge of his nose. At the start of his training he was outfitted with an optical cybernetic implant for the missing eye. The cybereye resembles something akin to a black disk with red optics, grafted into his face where the eyelid once was.

He is clothed in a dingy gray jumpsuit, with mismatched light armor picked off of fallen soldiers and adversaries covering most of it. The ensemble is usually hidden behind his black hooded robe, one that usually comes off if the situation calls for it.

Possessions: Ja'Ysr was never one to overload himself with unnecessary items and trinkets. Other than his clothes and robe, Ja'Ysr carries what credits and personal information he deems would be needed, and his weapons. On the subject of weaponry, he carries a pair of DC-17 blaster pistols, ones holstered to the belt of his ensemble, as well as his lightsaber. The lightsaber in question has a hilt much longer than most, at about 3.5 feet. The blade however, is of a standard length with a silver glow.

Skills: He was learned in the dual combat styles of Form V. He has covered the basics of both sides of the form, Shien as well as Djem So, yet as he learned to counter blaster bolts, he also wanted to carry blasters of his own, to fully cover the art. Naturally, he began to lean more towards the Shien art due to these developments, as well as try and incorporate his blasters into his bouts.

While well versed in the Force, he rarely calls upon it for any forms of telekinesis or sorcery. Instead he hones his Force abilities into his speed, agility and dexterity.

As a Chiss, he has impeccable sight in low light to dark environments and situations, and his cybernetic eye grants him telescopic vision.

Personality: The path of the Sith molded Ja'Ysr from a young age, changing a scared, timid boy into a whirling dervish of a warrior. His demeanor is calm and obediently loyal for the most part, an emotion that almost seems to contradict his (sometimes eager) assertiveness. Yet, on the inside, boils a roiling anger that he was trained to hold onto, to use to strike down his enemies as well as anyone else that dares stand before. Sometimes it may lead to spontaneous outbursts.

Backstory: For the most part Ja'Ysr lived a life of constant moving. After witnessing the death of his parents through a bandit raid (the very raid that left his vision impaired and face scarred), he was left unwanted and unloved. He could only move from place to place, usually being forced into some form of slavery by a slave trader or bandit looking to make a quick credit from a poor boy's body. And for the most part, he felt helpless to the path his life seemed to take. Helpless, scared, and most certainly angry. Such anger was how he was ushered into the dark side of the force.

As a scene of public humiliation was lashed upon the boy by one of his traders, he retaliated by rushing into the man hard and fast enough to knock him off his feet. Ja'Ysr could only scowl and seethe and stifle screams as he managed to overpower the man and close off his windpipe with his bare hands. As soon as he realized what he had done, he was being quickly led away from the scene by an individual in a dark red robe. Whoever the individual was, she could easily see the rage the he held within, a rage that could easily manipulated into something much more powerful than what he could do on his own.

As he grew under his master's tutelage, Ja'Ysr hardened into a fine Sith apprentice. Even as he had much to learn under the title, his master always thought his potential was limitless. And with training, soon the search for power slipped in alongside his simmering anger and lust for vengeance. Such feelings were only accented once his master was fatally cut down in a battle that turned the tides for the Jedi empire. Subservient for his dark masters, Ja'Ysr carries out his authority as needed and seeks to help bring the Sith back to power.

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

Deej, Granny, and Sonia were the main characters of the third RP I created, "Welcome to Billboardsville!", where I had a dream that could only be explained as "the over-the-top anime goodness of Kill La Kill mixed in copious amounts of gritty gang violence!" The resulting RP had tons of potiential, but interest in developing the story fell by the wayside, and RPers followed suit. Who knows, maybe one day I could relaunch it on this website...

Deej Morrison

Name: Deegan James "Deej" Morrison
Age: 18
Gender: Male

Appearance: Let's not beat around the bush here, Deegan is short. He's about 5 feet 4 inches, and about 110 pounds soaking wet. If you couldn't guess by his weight, he's also fairly skinny. His shoulders are weirdly broad for his size, though. He's got light brown skin, dark brown eyes, and black hair full of big, bouncy curls. Mostly wears colorful t-shirts, baggy khakis and cargos, and hi-tops. He wears a purple rosary around his neck, to remember his late brother by.

Personality: Deegan is impulsive. Likes to live in the moment, and will literally not think before he leaps. The death of his brother had made him reckless, much to the dismay of his parents. It also doesn't take much to excite him. He likes to run, but towards the fray, instead of away from it. He's a risk taker, just like his grandmother. He'll try anything once.

Special Talent(s): I'll be honest, Deegan isn't the sharpest brick in the masonry. But, the kid's got heart. He fights for his friends n' all that. He's a scrappy little fellow; pretty good at using his fists and feet. Due to his short stature and light weight, he can be very agile and flexible. He takes the expression "bouncing off the walls" in a very literal sense. He can get on a taller person's shoulder's in one leap.

Biography: Somewhere in the late nineties, the eldest daughter of the Sinclaire clan, Sierra, wanted to get out of the family business. With the promise of grandchildren, Shirley gracefully respected her decisions. True to her word, Sierra confirmed she was carrying twins by the end of the year. Twin boys, to be in fact. Deegan came out first, his brother Benji followed after. The family lived out most of the boy's young lives in Billboardsville, long before the issue of emerging gangs arose. The twins were inseparable during growth, brothers through and through.

As they reached middle school age, a Spanish gang known as the Conquistadors were slowly making themselves known in the Howie Towers housing complex just a block or so away from their house. The introduction of the gang made it a challenge to get from school and back on many occasion, but the two managed to get by. Except for one day. Benji was wearing blue one day, a color associated with one of the other established gangs, the Royals. Passing through Howie Towers, the two were confronted by about four older males, all brandishing some form of yellow on their persons.

One asked an expected question, "You a Royal?" They barely had any time to answer before they were assaulted. A flurry of fists, feet, bats, and knuckle dusters were brought upon the brothers. And even as they fought, it was clear the odds were stacked against them. And as Benji slipped into unconscious, his face bloodied and torn, an imposing figure of a man stepped through the crowd. The man, covered in tattoos, had a long yellow cloth covering his mouth. Deegan, equally mangled and driven by blinding rage, rushed towards the man, only to be driven into the concrete by the massive man's boot. "Tell your people of what occurred here today. Hate me if you must." And hate him he did. As the man kicked him away, he reached for Benji, holding him forth by the neck, like her just won a trophy. "This one...he will be the first." Down the line Deegan learned that the man was one of the Conquistador's lieutenants, called himself the "Matador". He never forgot that moment, and of the anger that stemmed from it.

He brought the news to his mother, injured, angry, ashamed. Distraught, and with no help from the police, Sierra collected her things, and moved from the city as fast as she could, with Deegan in tow. Three years later, and fresh out of high school, he received a call from his aunt, with the promise of making money working with his grandma. He didn't need another reason to come out, he saw this as an opportunity to get back at the Conquistadors or die trying. So he headed back to Billboardsville, scowling all along the way.

Granny Sinclaire

Name: "Granny" Shirley Sinclaire
Age: 72
Gender: Female

Appearance: Well, she's old, no doubt. Her whitish-gray hair has been mostly touched with a burgundy-brown hue, a shade that easily fades into her brown skin. She may have been thin and beautiful in her youth, but now standing at 5'9" and weighing in at about 230, she's formed into more of a roundish mass that most grannies take on at that age. She can usually be found in a business suit of sorts, obviously. She does have a place of business to run, after all.

Personality: Granny may be a very business-oriented woman, but you'd never guess that through her speech and actions. She's all sorts of sassy and bossy and loud and impersonal. She will not hesitate to throw her weight around, both figuratively and literally. Though, on a good day, she can be a very warm, loving woman. Too bad there haven't been much good days since Billboardsville went to shit. But hey, if everything goes according to her plan, then we might just see ol' Granny crack a smile again.

Talents: She's a world renowned cook, for starters. How else did you think she got her restaurant? It helps that she loves doing it, and it can be one of the few things that would keep her mind off of the ruin her city is falling to.

Also, she's built like a fucking brick wall. Seriously, don't let her age fool you, cuz she's as fast and strong as she is tough. I mean, the woman had to singlehandedly care for eight kids while running a gang and a popular restaurant. You think there haven't been times where she strong-armed herself out of a situation? There've been many folk who tried to walk into her restaurant and start some shit. And they were usually ushered out, by her, straight through the front window.

Not to mention, her years of business (both business, and "business") expertise have kept her mind razor sharp. Girl could write a book if she wanted. Instead she's gonna turn back to her younger days, and use that mind of hers to launch an assault big enough to set the whole town straight.

Biography: Hey, did you know that Granny Sinclaire ran a gang? Okay, yeah, I knew it too. But she didn't run all by herself. Hell, she wasn't even the head of the gang in its heyday. That title went to the late, great, Edward Sinclaire, a smooth talking salesman from up north. Every word he spoke was like dribbles of honey pouring into your ear. He walked into young Shirley's up-and-running establishment (then called Shirley's Soulful Sweets) and practically swept her off her feet with his words. With his slick words and extensive knowledge, he was just the thing needed to get the business booming. And as it seemed, as more and more money came in, business began to change. Soon they began receiving and shipping "flour" and "herbs" out to reliable buyers.

With Eddie's talk, came the fierce movement of drugs, weapons, and most other illegal supplies that could be bought. And to be honest, Shirley didn't care. All the extra business meant all the extra cash. In fact, she loved him even more for it. He was teaching her things she could've never learned through her own methods. As they built a impressive stable of movers, shakers, and moneymakers, their love for one another grew into a whirlwind. Almost literally too, like they popped out like 8 kids over a nine year span. 5 boys, and 3 girls. Soon, Shirley's Soulful Sweets became Sinclaire's Sweets, to represent the bond the two shared. But, these sort of crime stories never end well. Edward was gunned down in a act of gang violence.

The grief was almost overwhelming for Shirley. But she wasn't stopped. She had a restaurant to run! Contraband to move! Kids to raise! She couldn't mourn long. With the help of her eldest son and daughter, she got right back into the game and came just as hard, if not harder. As the new head of the Sinclaire Family, she had something to prove. And prove she did. The family held Billboardsville's underground in a tightly wound iron fist. Nothing got in or out of the city without her knowing. Some say the family grew ruthless under her rule, while she claimed to only increase productivity.

Years passed, and in her aging state, she decided to retire from the hustle and bustle of the crime underworld. And as kids drifted away, and her family flourished, she decided to put more of her focus into her restaurant. Her movers and shakers became her devoted cooks and cleaners. Her youngest child, Sonia, stayed behind with her mother, and helped manage the restaurant.

Sonia Sinclaire

Name: Sonia Sinclaire
Age: 30
Gender: Female

Appearance: Along with being the youngest of the Sinclaire clan, she's also the shortest at just 4'11". Match her small stature with the pair of bifocals and the bushy head of black hair she had to wear through youth, and you know she never had a fun time on school playgrounds. Luckily she's updated the look, her glasses small, sharp, square rimmed. Her bushy hair smoothed down to shoulder length. Due to years of her mother's cooking, Sonia definitely takes into a plentiful curvy shape. Not as chubby as you'd think, she'll proudly boast that she fills out in all the right places. She's usually a bit more on the casual side when compared to her mother, usually wearing form fitting jeans, blouses, and sneakers.

Personality: Business oriented, like her mother. But with none of the boisterous sass. She's quite timid, actually. Doesn't stop her from contrasting her mother's usual cold dispositions with her helpful friendliness. That, and she has a bit of a drinking problem. So there's that.

Talent(s): Sonia may be a smart as her mother, but at least she has the certifications to show for it. She has at least one Master's in Business Administration, and a couple of Bachelor degrees further covering the major.

Biography: Sonia wasn't around during the high point of her parent's criminal career. Born shortly after the death of her father, Sonia only had her mother to look to for guidance. It could've been the factor that kept the two so close. Sonia saw her mother as a strong, immovable pillar that kept their family up. As powerful as she was smart. Sonia wanted to be like that. And where she lacked in power, she more-than-made-up for it in intelligence. Even though she was overshadowed by her siblings, Shirley still managed to take notice of her daughter's prowess. And notice she did, making sure to keep Sonia on top of her studies, and guiding her every step of the way. Shirley was never one to let untapped potential go to waste.

Once Sonia completed her last degree, Shirley rewarded her with a position as CFO over the Sinclaire Sweets franchise, along with all the benefits that came with the position. Now as her mother's right hand, Sonia helps keep the restaurant moving, while keeping up with her mother's connections, and tending to the not-so-legal tender.

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

Joey's a character that's still in action today, currently taking part in the Roleplayer Guild's reboot of our "Elementals" RP saga. In comparison to the two renditions of the character, I will say I played him a bit riskier the first time around, doing much to play up his more roguish personality traits (with some subtle hints of mental instability thrown in for good measure). He's a bit more neutered in the reboot, more of a team player than he used to be. He's also one of the few characters of mine with official art of him (with the other being Jason).

Horatio Dunst

Name: Horatio "Joey" Dunst
Age: 25
Gender: Male

Mastery: Earthshaper
Specialty: Boulder
Rank: Mage

Appearance:

Pic

Dirty and disheveled would be among a possible series of words used to describe the boy. He's about 5'11. Tan skin on a mostly skinny figure. He’s got strong arms and legs, though. Dark brown eyes. An unkempt bush of bouncy, brunette curls sit atop his head. Dirt marks and scars go hand in hand on decorating the boy's body, naturally. A sprinkle of dark freckles are noticeable along the bridge of his nose and cheeks. His crass, cockney accent does well to meld with his street urchin appearance.

Hands and feet are usually covered in wrappings or some sort. He’s almost fiercely against any form of footwear, actually. Feeling the dust and dirt kick up between his toes is a bit securing to him. His clothes could be considered rags; a short, sleeveless white shirt and thin, brown pants covered in dirt and dust. His hooded shawl could be considered the most unique article of his attire, the knee-length brown cape draping over his shoulders and fastening at his neck. A faded, blocky, zig-zagging pattern lies all along the edge of the tattered drape.

Equipment: Usually, if he isn't mindlessly twirling it between his fingers, he has a six inch dagger holstered in his belt. It has a ring near the blade by the hilt, hence all the twirling. Also usually tied along his belt, is a small sack containing the assorted forms of earth he can control. Sand, stone arrowheads, and all sorts of small rocks and pebbles are in this bag.

Demeanor: He's a bit of a shady figure. Can keep up in a conversation, but it would be wise to not trust all his words. He's had to lie, cheat, and steal to get to where he is today, and it's what he knows best. Friends were few and far between for the boy, yet he's managed to get by. But, he's reckless also. Foolishly so. His life experiences have made him careless towards the direction his life goes in. Along with the numerous ways he's been used; he knows of his expendable status, he just doesn't care at this point. If you can manage past those wondrous qualities, he’s quite a blast to be around. Jokes and snarks with the best of them. Unhesitant to flirt with any sort of female.

History: There's been no shortage of orphans inhabiting that island the mages were pushed to so long ago. However, there were the young ones that managed to find the righteous path, to fully embrace their abilities and to fall in line with all the other budding mages at the Academy. Joey never found this path. Not immediately, anyway. His parents, whoever they were, pulled the ol’ “baby in a basket (sans basket)” routine on a human owned monastery not too far from the nearest town, but at least several fortnights away from the nearest Academy. Little Joey was left on the doorstep with nothing more than a soiled diaper with his name hastily scrawled into it. Such an occurrence was a normal routine for the place, so of course he was taken in.

From there he grew up along the monks and nuns and the other assorted ragamuffins of that monastery. He was quite the quick handed troublemaker out of the kids in his age group, a mischievous little runt that was always ready to plan or play the next prank on one of his unsuspecting elders. No doubt he was the all time best at hide and seek. They were quick to give him his forty lashings whenever they found him, too. Despite this, he was always willing to lend a hand, that is, if he were getting something out of the task.

At some point in his seventeenth year, he overheard news of a public execution being held in town. It was two criminals; a mage couple. Now, he’s heard many stories and comments about mages up to this point. And none of them were good ones. They’ve been called demons, savages, heathens and false prophets. How they could manipulate flame with just a flick of the wrist, snatch the light right out of the sky, and how the earth would tremble at their will. Most of the religious folk thought that they all deserve nothing shorter than burning in hell. The news of the execution practically resulted in joyous celebration among the nuns and monks of the monastery. Naturally, Joey had to go into town to check it out, he wanted to see what these so-called demons looked like!

You could imagine his disappointment when he actually set eyes on the criminals once he reached the town square. They weren’t nearly as monstrous as he was thinking. Nope, instead they looked like old, tired folk, with faces and bodies covered in bruises and cuts. Lame. He looked on, disinterested. The announcement of their crimes went mostly unheard, but it was something the executioner said that really got Joey’s attention. He announced their names: Mikaela and Rohaan Dunst. “...Dunst?” Joey scoffed. It was an interesting coincidence, that he’d have the same last name as these two. As the two dropped from the gallows, and hung for all the town to see, Joey made his way back to the monastery, not giving much thought to that strange coincidence.

...That is, until he started making little rocks float by his fingertips one day. He couldn’t even tell how he was making it happen or why, but he knew he should knock it off before someone noticed and amassed a angry mob. He did pretty well at keeping it under wraps, and even felt he could suppress his newfound abilities. But, he was eighteen pushing nineteen by this point, and felt it was time to move away from the monastery. Though from there, he was so fast to fall in with the wrong crowds. Gangs, thieves, rogues, and other presumably violent ne’er-do-wells. He would do well to use his fists to find his way out of a scrap, rather than his abilities.

He would skip from town to town, ever so slowly heading in the direction of the Academy. He would swipe small trinkets and currencies from oblivious tourists and unsuspecting lodgers. If he weren’t sleeping outside in the dirt, it would be in the warm bed of a maiden he’d manage to sweet talk. If he'd get lucky, some odd job would fall into his lap during his travels, maybe help move things off a freighter, or play as an extra hand in a shakedown. The more he stole from the humans, the more he began to loathe their ways. The lot of them were selfish, ignorant, and oh so dumb. He realized the hate against mages seemed mostly for no reason, and it angered him a bit.

He managed to reach the Academy just a few weeks after celebrating his twenty-fifth birthday. He was surprised at how gracefully they let him in, that is, once he showed what little of his abilities he possessed. That was understandable. Living alongside the humans for so long, he could understand why it would be so hard to trust any of them. Yet, he would wonder if anyone would trust him.

Mictlan93's Character Archive and Retrospective

Adrian was a short lived character part of a even shorter lived RP, a superpower RP with a battle royale-esque edge to it.

Adrian Lieber

Name: Adrian Lieber

Age: 22

First Gender: Male

First Appearance: A pale, male Caucasian, standing at about 6'2", and weighing in at a whopping 155 lbs. "Long and Lanky" would be one of the ways to describe his body type, nothing but skin atop very tall bones. His hair is a sorta-light brown, shoulder length, and usually fairly disheveled. His brown, sunken in eyes are surrounded by long, dark bags, a price of his current, aimless lifestyle. He usually stays clean shaven, too (even though there's not much of a choice; he can't really get a mustache past peach fuzz, and he gets rid of it to avoid looking like an adolescent). When last seen, he was wearing a black and blue flannel shirt (his favorite shirt), dingy grey jeans, and old black hi-tops.

First Personality: Adrian'll never hesitate to tell you how much college has ruined his life. His degree is useless, his friends are gone, his tuition basically put him in debt, and he has nowhere to go. These things taught him how to hate. Not people, or his surroundings, but himself (and, well, college, to some extent). He's the butt of his own jokes, and he feels he deserves it. Some days he'll try and get his act together, try to bolster himself and say "today, i'll get shit done." By the end of that day, he'd find himself back a square one. Even then, he'll try to hide it in public. He'll socialize, he'll converse, he'll laugh and be a friend. But it doesn't hamper the self-loathing that boils from within. It's a pitiful facade slowly beginning to melt away like a candle, and inside lies a burning wick that just won't extinguish.