Phloem

You Get What You Give

Alright, finally posted. But it's pretty bleh. x.x

You Get What You Give

Allan was not a morning person. He hated the inevitable moment when he finally had to get up, leaving behind the warm sheets and blankets of his bed for an icy floor and rooms just that side of too cold. Long practice let him roll out of bed, a blanket still wrapped around his shoulders, as he hurried towards the bathroom. He needed to piss, he needed coffee, and if there was anything edible in the fridge, he needed to grab something for breakfast.

Kicking at the door, Allan headed straight for the toilet to do his business. All this time, his eyes were closed, sticky at the corners, and he rubbed at them with the back of his hand. To put it gently, he looked like death. But hey, it was so early in the morning and he just woke up, no one could really blame him. A loud grumble emanating from his stomach reminded him of his next destination, and he made his way to the kitchen.

Inevitably, it was a disaster zone. The counter was cluttered with all sorts of cutlery, and the takeout cartons from last night piled up on top of the trashcan. Grimacing when he walked right through something sticky, Allan flipped open the lid of the coffeemaker and removed the old grounds. The thought of a hot, steaming mug of coffee was more than enough to cheer him up, as he rummaged through the pantry for something he could make it with. But alas, his heart sank when he remembered that he ran out of coffee powder just the night before. Letting out an exaggerated sigh, Allan realised he was going to have to go out and get some instead. He contemplated braving the fridge, but to be honest, he wasn’t sure if it was worth it.

On one hand, he was hungry. On the other hand, he had to be really hungry to face the furred something that lurked at the back of his fridge. Allan knew it probably used to be rice, but at this point, it resembled a ball of green fluff. Which was cool, but also really fucking gross and he’s not sure if he’s up to looking inside. In the end, he decided the risk wasn’t worth the consequences, and that having his breakfast somewhere else would probably be a better option.

A quick teeth-brushing and ice-cold shower later, Allan felt a little less shitty. The young man pulled on some fresh clothes; just a white t-shirt and a pair of blue jeans. It was nothing special, really, but that was the point. To be a successful pickpocket, one had to look as inconspicuous and unremarkable as possible. Ignoring the fact that he’d been caught once, Allan considered himself one of the best at what he did. Unlike the so-called leader of their little band of criminals, he didn’t often discriminate between financial status. More often than not, he does try to keep to their creed of stealing from the rich and giving to the poor, but sometimes, his sticky fingers seemed to have a will of their own.

Allan was out the door and on the streets after he shrugged on his favourite leather jacket. He already had his destination in mind. There was a diner just a few blocks away, and he’d been there too many times to count. Mostly because of their pancakes, of course, he didn’t know what they put in them, but they were to die for. The fact that a member of the ‘Merry Men’ worked there was only an added bonus. It probably wasn’t the healthiest thing; subsisting on nothing but chow mein and pancakes, but hey, he still hasn’t gotten a heart attack so far.

It only took Allan ten minutes to walk to the aforementioned diner, but he’d bumped into at least fifteen people on the way there. But then again, when were the streets not filled with people. He had plenty of opportunity to pick a few pockets, but he wanted to wait until after he got himself a cup of joe to do so. Pushing the door to the diner open, he quickly slipped inside.

“Morning, Aria! Morning, Marian!” Allan greeted cheerily, noticing two familiar faces sitting in a booth together. “Really hope I’m not interrupting something here. Should I just help myself?” He punctuated this sentence with a quick gesture towards the kitchen, a joking grin on his face. He wasn’t serious, of course. In fact, letting him anywhere near an open flame was a disaster waiting to happen. Allan was probably one of the worst cooks in the entire world. He didn’t know how, but one time, he even managed to set a pot of water on fire. For him to cook up a stack of pancakes, well, that was way beyond his area of expertise.

You Get What You Give

Banba said
Name: Moe Talons

Holy shit. Is it just me or are our characters are really similar to each other? :O

You Get What You Give

Pretty much done, just need to find a picture but I'll probably do that in the morning when my brain is less impaired. :P NEVERMIND, I got it.

If anyone sees anything that needs changing, just let me know. Like I said, it's 4 am and my brain is mush.

---

Name: Allan Yarrow O'Dale

Alias: Alan-a-Dale

Age: 23

Appearance:

Allan

Faction: Merry Men

Occupation: Freelance Musician, that's a job, right?

Bio:

ohgod wall of text

Growing up in Rochester, New York, the young Allan was always just a tad different from his peers. Creative and free-spirited, he never did fare well in structured classroom settings, and so, he always seemed to catch onto the material just a hair slower than those around him. All the same, he read avidly, and thus, in his own obscure way, he proved quite an intelligent child. His parents didn't think the same way, unfortunately, since they were usually too busy swooning over his older brother Hamish. In many ways, Hamish was the family golden boy, leaving Allan the black sheep. Charismatic, sporty and academically gifted, Hamish was essentially the perfect son. Allan had always hated being in his brother's shadow, but there really wasn't much he could do. However, he discovered his true calling a couple years later in high school.

Until this day, he still can't thank his music teacher enough for enlightening him on the basics. He took to music like a duck to water, and his sheer talent for it was uncanny. Allan was overjoyed to finally find his own place in the world; he thought he would no longer be overshadowed by his brother, and that it was his time to shine. Picking up a menagerie of techniques from whatever books he could scrounge up at the library, a young Allan finally worked up the courage to perform at the diner where he worked as a busboy. While his boss definitely wasn't pleased that he neglected his duties to pluck away at some strings, crooning the lyrics to pop songs, the audience was a whole 'nother story. All the effort he put into practicing the six-string was worth it, if only to hear the cheers and applause.

Allan could feel it in his bones; his big break was just around the corner. A big music producer was gonna scout him, and he was going to make it all the way to #1 on the Billboard charts! There was no way anything could go differently, right? Wrong. Allan never got his coveted opportunity. Sure, he earned his keep playing for anyone who was willing to pay, but it never got any better than that. No fame, no fortune, and most importantly, no Billboard #1. With nothing but a lacklustre high school diploma, his path in life was looking pretty bleak. To this day, Allan still doesn't know what went wrong. Maybe he was a victim of poor booking, or maybe it was just bad luck. Whatever it was, he knew the only thing he could do was to suck it up and keep on trudging.

Three years ago, Allan arrived in New York City in hopes of a brighter future. The only way he could afford an apartment was to split the rent between him and a couple of stoners, and so he did. It wasn't the most amazing place to live in (he always ended up smelling like weed), but he put up with it. Besides, the rent was too cheap to pass up. Allan frequented the East Village often, playing most of his shows there. They were all small-time and low-key, but it was at one of those bars where he met who he'd thought was his soulmate.

The first time he caught sight of those blonde curls and blue eyes, Allan swore it was love at first sight. He figured that there was no way someone like her would be interested in someone like him, but when she came up to him after his show and introduced herself, he wasn't so sure anymore. The girl... Ellie, as he learnt her name was, had him head over heels in love with her. It didn't even bother Allan that most of what he earned went into buying gifts upon gifts for his new flame. Soon enough, his income just wasn't able to support her extravagant lifestyle anymore. Desperate to please this dream girl of his, Allan turned to larceny. Sure, he thought it was the tackiest thing ever, swiping diamond-encrusted Rolexes from the pretentious asswipes who owned them, but he couldn't help but think something like that could float him for at least a year. Well... maybe half a year now that Ellie was here.

This went on for six months, Allan's naturally nimble fingers and easy-going demeanour making short work of it. Whatever he could get his hands on, he brought to the pawn shop and sold for a hefty fee. For someone who'd never done anything like this before, he actually racked up a pretty impressive record. That was until he got cocky, of course, thinking that he would never get caught. A simple pickpocketing gone awry, and Allan was hauled to the slammer. He thought his darling Ellie would come along and bail him out, but he never saw her again. Alone and dejected, Allan knew he was looking at a good few years in jail.

Just when he thought his luck had finally run out, a bright, shining opportunity presented itself to him in the form of a Mr. Robin Locksley. Apparently, he had been looking to form a band of individuals with a specific set of skills. Allan didn't even have to think twice about the offer once he heard it, of course he would join this ragtag group of pseudo-vigilantes. After all, he needed a ticket out of jail, and this was pretty much the only chance he was ever gonna get.

Personality: Allan loves bad horror movies, ridiculous sports, and any and all forms of music. Basically, he's a noisy, fun-loving, immature little shit and his greatest joy in life is messing with people, particularly the ones that take themselves too seriously. He's completely indifferent to major events unless they directly impact him. When Allan gets serious and loses the grin, you know shit’s gotten pretty fucking heavy. Despite all this, he manages to be an awfully charming guy. Allan has never met a boundary he wouldn't cross. He'll go to bat for you if you make him laugh, if he likes your style, or if you have an offering that tickles his fancy (he's fond of stuffed animals, cigarettes, and ugly puppies, just as an FYI).

Skills/abilities:
- Virtuoso: Allan has a natural affinity for music. Pick an instrument and Allan would most likely be able to play it to a decent degree. But his true love and talents both lie in singing and guitar.

- Pickpocket: Allan is much more adept at stealing than the average crook. In fact, he could probably steal the clothes right off someone's back if he really wanted to, don't ask him now.

- Master Of Trade: Allan has mastered the art of barter. With his connections to the less-than-respectable pawnshops in the city, he always manages to make a profit on his sales.

Family/Loves Ones?:
Maisie O'Dale (née Fairbairn) - Mother
Torrance O'Dale - Father
Hamish O'Dale - Older Brother
Ellie Hawthorne - Ex-Girlfriend

Other: -

You Get What You Give

Currently working on a sheet for Alan-a-Dale, if you'll have me. :)

Vampires and humans?

Interested. :D

I'm assuming vampires and humans are the only playable races?

Ashes in the Sky - The Rise of Olympus

Glorious was the grand palace that sat atop Mount Olympus. Neither rain nor snow dared to fall upon its marble floors and the the strongest winds touched not its halls. From his perch, Apollo could gaze upon all of Greece, but now, he had other things on his mind. Fingers lightly brushed against the laurel wreath in his hair, a harsh reminder of his past failed endeavours in matters of the heart. Consorting with mortals was a tricky affair, always yielding such unpredictable results. Sometimes, he just didn't understand what he did wrong, but all of that was in the past now. He had his beloved Hyacinth in the mortal world below, and he just couldn't wait to see him again. Lately, he'd been too occupied with conferring with the Delphic Sibyl and the Muses to even have time to visit. But today, after he bid his farewells to Persephone, Apollo resolved to finally take some time out of his day to call on him.

Turning on his heel, Apollo began to make his way to the main hall, from where the sounds of conversation originated. He hadn't bothered to check over his raiments before this, but then again, he'd never been the vain one -- that was Aphrodite's job. Clad in the billowing, white robes common on Olympus, however, Apollo had to admit that he did cut a rather handsome figure. But he wasn't going to stand around contemplating his looks, after all, he had places to be and things to do. Despite not being on the best of terms with Persephone, he still wanted to say goodbye to her before she returned to the Underworld for another six months. Apollo wasn't quite sure why, but he supposed it was only seemed polite to do so... not that gods ever really cared about the basics of social etiquette.

In the distance, a black-clad figure could be seen. Apollo wagered that the silhouette belonged to Hades, come to collect his wife, once again. How Persephone was able to stand being in the darkness of the Underworld for such an extended period of time was a mystery to Apollo. He knew the pomegranate she ate bound her to the Underworld, but they [i{were[/i] gods and goddesses. Surely if she really wanted to, she'd be able to find a way out of this predicament. Not wanting to incur the wrath of Hades, however, Apollo opted to remain silent on this matter. His own abilities were great, but they would no doubt be overshadowed by his uncle's.

"Persephone," Apollo called, the corners of his lips turning up into a slightly sympathetic smile. Of course, he greeted Hades similarly, to do anything else would be downright rude, but that was it for their interaction. He really couldn't be much more different from his uncle, even if he tried. "Such a great shame that you have to go back to that dreadful place again, isn't it?"

Ashes in the Sky - The Rise of Olympus

Apologies for the delay, I have a post in the works and it'll be up soon.

Ashes in the Sky - The Rise of Olympus

Just did, hope everything is in order now. :)

Ashes in the Sky - The Rise of Olympus

Ah, alright. I did not know that, since I based my Apollo off the one from the Percy Jackson series. I'll just edit it a bit, if that's fine with you.