Smike

~ Phantom Thieves of London: The Calling ~

Elizabeth Astor
Morning, School

Even after this time away from her family, Elizabeth still couldn't quite believe that she was free from them. It was almost too good to be true. Nineteen years old and already a member of the one percent, she had the means to do whatever she wanted whenever she wanted and there was no one around to say no. She had successfully squirmed her way out from under the thumb of two disgustingly rich families who had every intention of dragging her into the soulless and amoral world of business and had the freedom to make her own choices. She was young, beautiful (or so she liked to think, in actuality she knew she was "pretty" at best) single, and a multimillionaire. For many people this would look like the golden opportunity to drink and party all day everyday!

But she had never been the type to get trashed and make poor decisions while under the influence, she enjoyed alcohol of all kinds but not to that extent. So instead she had signed for college and literally picked her course at random. Sociology was as good a time filler as any and that's all she was looking for. Every day of the work week except for Tuesday she would go to class and listen dutifully, paying enough attention to earn a B. Solid but not outstanding, a delightful change of pace from the forced excellence her tutors had dragged out of her as a child. But today was her off day. There was no class to go to, just a routine to slip into like a comfortable sweater. She slipped out of her Carolean four post bed at 5 AM sharp (later than usual, she was usually awake by 4) and lazily exchanged her nightshirt for a blouse and jeans. The two most important creatures in her life were already waiting patiently for her at the foot of the bed, Basker and Buck looking up at her with hunger clearly visible in their eyes.

"Good morning my handsome boys." the young woman cooed, rubbing their furry heads lovingly. "Whose got a kiss for Mama?" They did, of course, Buck resting his front paws on Elizabeth's shoulders and lapping at her nose. The little human nearly buckled under more than double her weight's worth of Doberman, and again when Basker got his turn. "Thank you my dears. Let's get some breakfast." She led her children to the kitchen, eight paws and two slippered feet padding softly against the rich black carpet of her bedroom before clacking against the marble flooring of the hallways in a cacophony of claws. Lazily Elizabeth flicked on a light in the spacious kitchen before snapping her fingers. "Basker, table time!" Her good boy snapped into action, taking up position in front of the high cabinets so that his mama could carefully clamber up onto his back and then shift to the counter top. She retrieved the tea kettle and mugs, setting them down before before hopping daintly to the floor. "Thanks my sweet creature." The Ovcharka earned himself a pat between the ears as she went about setting up breakfast. A bit of busy work later and she was sitting cross-legged on the floor with a plate of steak and eggs, adding vintage whiskey from her well-stocked liquor cabinets to her tea as Basker and Buck chowed down on their own matching meals. The young heiress eyed the antique grandfather clock, ("Cost me more than twenty thousand dollars" her mother had shared over the phone when it was shipped over as a gift) praising the time. 6:30, time for a walk.

Three sets of fine china were quickly cleared and cleaned, placed in the rack to dry as Elizabeth led her brood to the private elevator that led from her high rise to the ground floor. They didn't need leashes, much too well trained and cared for to ever try to run away. As the metal box descended she could see the adopted brother snap to attention, ears flickering and noses sniffing as the doors opened. They were her boys of course, but they were also her bodyguards first and foremost. They weren't going to let her go unless they were sure the coast was clear. Cautiously they stepped out and checked the lobby, finally looking back to her. "Ready?" Let's go!"

The little family sprinted out the doors of the lobby and onto the sidewalk, engaging in their daily run. When they returned all three of them were panting heavily, Elizabeth nodding a tired and dreamy expression to the doorman as she hustled her boys back upstairs and hopping into the shower as they rested on the cool tile flooring. She brushed her teeth as she washed off, not really seeing a point not to, and dried off before tugging her clothes back on. "Be good for me!" She instructed them unnecessarily. She had decided to head to school on her off day simply because she didn't have anything better to do. The thirty minute drive was a little annoying but it would at least keep her occupied. Sure she could walk but she didn't feel like it after a two mile run. She had grabbed her helmet and tugged on a leather jacket, already knowing what she was going to drive as she descended into the garage. She owned five different vehicles and categorically refused to use all but two of them whenever she could avoid it. Her family lacked the humanity and care required to come up with thoughtful gifts so she had ended up needing to sign for a total of five vehicles in the space of three days which made her feel like a royal asshole.

TheFerrari 488 Spider and Lamborghini Murciélago were gifts from her mother and father respectively. Loud and ostentatious, they screamed "too much disposable income" so loudly it was embarrassing. The car from her maternal was worse however, much much worse. A Dodge Charger painted a garish green with red racing stripes and a spoiler that had its muffler removed, she wanted to throw up every time she so much as glanced at the thing. It embodied all the worst stereotypes about rednecks in a way that made her skin crawl.

The fourth car was positively kick-ass however. A perfect recreation of the Pursuit Special from Mad Max, the only reason she didn't drive it everywhere was because how quickly it burned through gas. That left her with the bike, a lightweight Machia Nera ConceptIt was for the better anyway, the tiny girl knew she looked somewhat ridiculous in those massive cars. She hopped on, put on her helmet, revved the engine and took off towards school.

She rejected the common room for the courtyard, shaking the hair out of her eyes as she removed her helmet and took a seat next to boy that seemed to be about her age. She had never seen him before, looking curiously at him for a moment as he read. "Good book?" she asked, not even bothering to mention the strange boy climbing the tree.

~ Phantom Thieves of London: The Calling ~

CS

Name
Elizabeth Astor

Gender
Female

Age
19, March 19,

Sexuality
Bisexual

Nationality
American

Appearance

Elizabeth

The most noticeable thing about Elizabeth is her height, or rather her lack of it. Standing at an impressively diminutive four feet and eight inches it's quite easy to overlook her, not helped by her tendency to sit in the back of any given room. When not in her school uniform the young lady opts to wear elegant blouses and skirts or a comfy sweater and slacks, brightening up the usually dark ensemble with chokers of red or blue. Her face is delicately proportioned and tends to express only dreamy nonchalance at any given situation.

Her most distinctive feature is covered by her clothes, a surgical scar from when her ribs were broken by a kick from a young horse on her mother's ranch. A long line tracing over the right side of her body, it serves as a painful reminder to never let her guard down in any situation.

Metaverse Appearance

A regal cavalry officer's uniform with this Hat and this Mask.

Height
4'8"

Personality
At first glance Elizabeth seems like a gentle woman, kind and thoughtful even if she was quiet and maybe even a bit slow. When people speak to her it takes a moment for her eyes to focus on them, the young lady shaking her head like a dog trying to scare off flies. Often times a near whispered "Come again?" are the first words to come out of her mouth, her New England accent shining through. While her conversational partner repeats themselves they might find her humming quietly to herself or fiddling with her choker, nodding her head in time to unheard music while reaching down to pet her dogs Basker and Buck. She's often written off as airheaded and harmless, a pretty face with nothing behind it.

Nothing could be farther from reality. Her relatives on her father's side are all old money Yankees whose family had made it's forturne selling gunpowder to both sides of the American Civil War and crushing coal miner's strikes during the Gilded Age. Her maternal grandfather was a Texas oil and cattle baron who had crushed all his local competitors using underhanded business practices and benefited from "mysterious" arson attacks on rival wells and ranches. Besides receiving education from world renowned private tutors from the age of three she picked up from her family a shrewd mind for business and cold analysis of situations. One habit she has is making lists of weaknesses and past trauma she gleans from conversations and making plans on how utilize them to force favors out of the person.

And she hates it. Both sides of her family had ingrained her with a brutal mindset focused on extracting money out of every possible situation and leveraging all relationships for insider information and wiggling into backroom deals, had tried to make her into the next Washington lobbyist or boardroom cutthroat, and she's not about to play their game. Elizabeth is caring person, an animal lover who will turn out her pockets for every last bit of change in them to give to the less fortunate. She also carries a firm sense of right and wrong and a fierce belief in free will, a direct contrast to the amoral family that had tried to force her into the life of a ruthless capitalist.

Persona

Fenrir

A massive canine glowing orange and blue of the Justice arcana, Fenrir is capable of tearing apart enemies with teeth and claws or utilizing attacks of blinding nuclear energy.

Skill
Nuclear

Equipment
Model 1840 Cavalry Saber
Beowulf Rifle

Education
Sociology (St. Paul's College)
BTEC Business Studies(Evergreen)
A-Level Music (Evergreen)
A-Level Religious Studies (Evergreen)
Elizabeth also speaks fluent Spanish and Chinese and is a talented pianist, besides her ability to ride horses and shoot.
Biography
Elizabeth Astor was born three weeks early to Johnathan Astor and Katherine Simmons in the upscale resort of Martha's Vineyard during the parent's vacation, being delivered by a private doctor in a hotel room that was bigger than most people's houses. It was a sign of what was to come, the young girl being whisked off to the family mansion in New Bedford to be tended to by an army of nurses and nannies. The moment she wet herself her diaper was changed, she could hardly let out a single cry before some attentive nursemaid scooped her up and quieted her down. The closet full of diapers and baby clothes was big enough to have served as her playpen if she didn't have a room stocked with toys and stuffed animal hung with paintings of cherubs and woodland creatures. She had more than any baby needed or wanted but lacked a functional family.

Johnathan Astor and Katherine Clark were a marriage of a convenience through and through, a shrewd attempt by both families to try and gain an upper hand on their competitors and to secure an heir to both empires. It was a completely loveless relationship. The couple had separate bedrooms and had various affairs in them that the other knew about and didn't care. There was no animosity, in fact they were on friendly terms. They were both business oriented sharks who devoted themselves to their private ventures and worked together to mold their daughter into the next Rockefeller. To that end they surrounded her with the best tutors money could buy, teaching English, Chinese, mathematics, the classics, art history, any and every subject that they could.

When Elizabeth turned ten her mother moved back out to her grandfather's estate in Nevada, the young Astor splitting her time between the cold of New England and the heat of the Mojave. On the ranch she learned to shoot guns, ride horses, and train dogs as well as continued her training in the art of the deal. But the most important lesson she picked up was to never let her guard down. When little Astor was twelve she earned herself a kick to the ribs from a horse she was grooming after having failed to notice its agitation. It was a glancing blow, but even a light tap from a full grown horse is cause for alarm. Elizabeth managed to escape the situation with three broken ribs, a punctured lung, a scar from the emergency surgery, and an important lesson: watch your surroundings and pay attention to how people react.

While she was recovering she spent a lot of time with a cousin named Jacob who would show up with books and board games, the two playing Monopoly while he would tell her stories of robbers who would break into people's dreams to find the location of their treasure. Elizabeth didn't recognize that she was being groomed, prepared to be introduced to the family's real line of work when she was older. Both the Astors and Clarks were families that could enter the Metaverse and used their skills to ensure that things went their way. Elizabeth was simply the next in a long line of young men and women inducted into the business when they reached the age of twenty.

But she left the country before that could happen. She had grown to hate the way both sides of her family tree seemed to focus on money over anything else. She didn't want to make profit for profit's sake, to be drawn into the soulless world of business. She wanted to be a musician, an writer, a painter, anything that involved life and joy. She was allowed the chance to break free at seventeen when her grandfather passed away, leaving her with an inheritance of millions dollars as well as a small ranch of her own in New Mexico. The opportunity had presented itself and she seized it, going through the process of getting herself legally emancipated so she could get the inheritance transferred to a personal account.

As soon as the money was in her bank account she took off for London, selected at random. The ranch ran itself and she never needed to work a day in her life, she was living out a scenario most teens could only dream of. Now what to do with this freedom?
Affiliations
Katherine Simmons (Mother)
Jonathan Astor (Father)
Jacob Simmons (Cousin)
Buck Astor (Doberman)
Basker Astor (Ovcharka)
Relationships
To be filled out as the RP progresses

Character Theme
Not necessary, but can be used if wished.

Smike's Sheets

My Hider

Portrait:

Kiááyo

Name: Kiááyo Tatanka (Margareta De Luca)
"The Woman With Two Names"

Age / Date of Birth:
Was April 22nd, 1753, making her 28 years old.

Gender:
Female

Sexuality:
Bisexual

Class:
Musketeer

Stats

Strength:14
Willpower:15
Dexterity:16
Speed:12
Luck:0

Skills:
-Tracking
-Healing
-Swimming/Diving
-Leadership

Equipment:
-Musket
-Knife
-2x Turnover Pistols
-Satchel of various medicinal herbs and bandages

Appearance:
Taller and more well-built than most of her female counterparts Kiááyo stands at roughly 5'9" and carries herself as she was even taller. When in a resting position her arms are folded behind her ramrod straight back, chest jutting out proudly. Black eyes shine out from a bronze colored, hawkish face, black hair kept in a neat bun. The powerful muscles of her arms and legs are almost always visible under her clothes, her toned core and back usually concealed unless she's swimming. The native woman hides her ears, the most obvious signs of her nonhuman heritage, by keeping the pointed tips tucked up into her hair or wearing a hat. While she's certainly not ashamed of her ancestry she finds it simpler to hide them from most people. Also kept hidden are the curse-deadened veins in her arms and legs, a few lines of blackened blood running up and down her body. The trails of curdled blood are positioned so that long sleeves can hide all of them, for now anyway...

When out on the high seas or trailing her quarry on land she wears an outfit of soft buckskin pants with hide boots and a simple coat to keep out the elements. A cloth scar wrapped around her mouth serves as a convenient mask to keep out dust or to use as a rag for cleaning her weapons. Leather belts wrapped around her waist and torso provide places to store her guns and powderbox as well a place to hang her satchel full of herbal remedies and bandages.
She has two sets of formal clothing, one from the Old World and one from the New. Her Old World outfit consists on a black suit jacket and pants embroidered with golden thread, silver buttons polished to a sheen. A beaver felt tricorn hat and ruffle of white linen complete the ensemble. The clothing from her tribal upbringing is much simpler, her standard coat covered by a heavy bearskin cape with designs of crows and elk painted on with a careful hand. Strands of beads wrap around her neck, a bonnet of eagle feathers on her head. Simply made dyes of black and red cover the upper portion of her face, her mouth and chin left bare.

Personality:
Kiááyo is always paying close attention to how other people are acting around her and adjusts her own mannerisms as needed. A social chameleon, the native-born Cotsch has two distinct personalities for dealing with certain types of people. When interacting with other natives or the rough gangs of bounty hunters and brigands she does business with her natural accent is allowed to roam free as she introduces herself as Kiááyo Tatanka, sometimes even it making it stronger than it naturally is. Curses and slurs slip easily from her mouth in between gulps of cheap ale and puffs of smoke, spitting the foul mixture to the floor every now and again.

In sharp contrast is the personality used when speaking with people of higher social status. If she were to meet a wealthy Arian merchant or a Caulish nobleman she would introduce herself as "Margareta De Luca sir, at your service." a well-mannered lady who speaks only in polite euphemisms and measured tones and eschews low quality swill for wine fine and gallows humor for gossip about this royal family or that trade empire.

No matter which name she uses, she's driven by her goals. Her people have been battered and pushed around by the fleets and armies of the Old World for far too long. Cochise's recognized borders aren't enough of a deterrent to keep the colonizers away, so she will carve out a new set. A country where pirates, bandits, outlaws and outlanders would fight side by side with the first nations of the New World and anyone who opposed the Old. A pirate nation that will scrape out it's own territory and bleed dry anyone who steps foot in it with the intent to steal it. One that will combine the stalking and harrying tactics of the tribes and bounty hunters with the arms of the foreign militaries they oppose.

She will achieve with flattery, bribery, threats and promises and back up her words with colt steel and hot lead. She will stop at nothing until her country is formed and her names immortalized!

And she'll do it before the curse kills her.

Biography:
Kiááyo's story begins before her birth with a Fioretzan pirate and his bride to be. Alonzo De Luca had met Margaret Arundel in a port town tavern, a gunman who had spent some ill gotten coins to see a few tricks from a talented mage. She didn't disappoint, impressing him enough with colored lights and clever illusions that he promised to come back after his next voyage. And he did, returning multiple times with gifts of jewelry stolen from all over the world. The pair struck up a friendship that blossomed into a genuine love affair that could have been a happy ending for both of them.

But some men just don't know a good thing when they see one and end up ruining it. Alonzo was one of those men. Not content with his little trysts with Margaret every few months or so the pirate convinced a Cochisic woman to follow him. Inayat was only sixteen years old to his thirty-four and was easily swayed by honeyed words and promises of adventure. But instead of swashbuckling action and tender romance she was treated to terrible food and brutal "lovemaking", learning very quickly that she was nothing more than a way for Alonzo to keep himself occupied. Unsurprisingly she ended up pregnant and unable to flee.

Pirates have always been known for their love of drink and Alonzo's crew mates were no exception. One night as he stayed on board the ship with his captive, his "beloved' learned from a drunken cabin boy just what Alonzo had been up to. When they next met she very nearly burnt him alive with conjured flames but couldn't bring herself to kill the man she once loved. Instead she cursed his unborn child. The girl would be afflicted with a magical malady that would worsen throughout her life, slowly killing her from the inside. Margaret coldly explained the effects of her spell before walking out of his life forever.

Alonzo wasn't especially broken up about it but needed a way to calm the frantic mother of his bastard child. So he returned with Inayat to her homeland so she could be with her family while he supported them with bounty hunting and robbery. When his daughter was born he looked to his old flame for naming inspiration, calling her Margareta. The girl's maternal family all called her Kiááyo and she grew up learning to speak Fioretzan and the various languages of the tribes in her area.

The effects of the curse started appearing early in her childhood. Kiááyo couldn't run as a long or play as hard as her peers, doubling over in coughing fits that would leave her sidelined. An inconvenience sure, but if this was all the curse did than she could live with it. But it revealed her true nature around the age of seven, the coughing fits lasting up to a minute at a time and forcing her to gasp desperately for air between spluttering and choking gurgles. Her spit would be tainted with reddened mucus that was sometimes tinged with black as her blood was poisoned, some of her veins looking as if they were filled with ink. While stronger than many of the other children she was left behind more and more, unable to keep with them at all.

But she refused to be made an invalid. She might have had limited time but she was going to make the most of it. She learned to wrestle and brawl, able to hold her old against bigger opponents by letting her thick arms bear the brunt of an assault before unleashing a powerful haymaker into their jaws. Like most of the people in her tribe she learned to hunt and make useful medicines out of various plant and animal matter, foul-tasting mixtures that she used to keep herself alive. She found out that she had a natural inclination for diving far beyond most people's, able to hold her breath for nearly ten minutes. And most importantly, after much pestering Alonzo taught her to shoot.

It was a life changer. She didn't have to watch her quarry disappear into the woods as she lagged behind, didn't have to live at fear that some bandit would tire her out and slaughter her while she was defenseless. With practice she would be able to take on anyone. And practice she did, blasting away at birds and crudely carved targets hung off trees. She kept practicing until she could hit a target with a bullet more than her fellows could with a boy, even joining her father on some of his manhunts when she turned fifteen. By the time she was twenty she was a fully fledged bounty hunter in her own right, making a name for herself by working with gangs of thugs to track escaped convicts and wanted assassins.

It was good money, but not enough to fuel her ambitions of forming a country. And the clock was ticking. As she got older Kiááyo became more and more aware of her occasional fits, tracing a finger over the black lines in her arm as she contemplated her own mortality. If she wanted to achieve her goals she needed three things: money, an army, and an heir. So when she received her letter of marque she leapt at the chance. Piracy would provide the money which would lead to the army, she could provide the heir herself. So the Woman With Two Names packed up her equipment and set out to follow her father's footsteps.

Intrigues of Venedig - High Fantasy Mature RP

Player Faction: Alhryt-Liu Trade and Lending Company

Contact us for loan and slave appraisal

Founded a little over three centuries ago by a Tian and Xul, both immigrants to Venedig, the Alhryt-Liu Trade and Lending Company (better known simply as the Company) got its start in a modest stall in the Bazaar exchanging currency brought in by the hordes of travlers from all corners of the globe. The pair did well for themselves, making a modest amount of wealth before moving into money-lending and trading. They shipped wool and wine, swords and shoes, anything anyone needed to anywhere on Erde. The pair had been well-off before but now they were rich, both of them attracting good wives and making friends in the higher circles of society. By the time they retired the names Alhrty and Liu were respected in Venedig, known for being dependable and able to investments into steady profits.

As time went on trade and currency exchange took a backseat to moneylending which left the Company with a problem: what to do with people who defaulted on their loans? Sure they could confiscate property and what little money the debtor had but that was rarely worth much. Every time someone wasn't able to come up with the money the Company made a loss, an unacceptable turn of events. So fifty years into it's existence the Company jumped into what people were already doing: the slave trade.

It was simple. Once the time ran out on a contract the debtor was given a week to come up with the money or something of equal value. If they couldn't they forfeited their freedom. They were no longer people but property, a red mark in the ledge suddenly converted to an asset. If their body still couldn't cover the cost their meager belongings were taken as well.

Of course, many tried to run away from their debts but the Company quickly built a network of bounty hunters, trackers and thugs to return escapees. It is rare for someone to evade the Company for more than a month.

Jobs Offered
Trackers:People who specialize in find property that decides to run out on agreements. Consisting of a highly paid but relatively small professional core supplemented by temporary mercenaries and thugs. One time contracts pay well enough and contractors that do well are often offered a permanent job with good pay and benefits as well as a pension for next of kin if they die in the line of duty.

Traders: This refers to people that sell slaves as well as those who sell non-sentient property. There are always plenty of assets that need to be sold off and traders working for the Company can expect a 20% cut of every sale as well as plenty of stock provided to them for no charge.

Silencers:By far the smallest of the employee categories Silencers are the in-house spies and assassins used by the company in situation where it might be too awkward, expensive or simply not convenient to hire the Razors. Silencers are expected to keep a low profile but how they handle any particular job is up to them. Whether they kill a target with blade, poison, arrow or magic doesn't matter as long as they're discrete. They are only sent to to deal with things that pertain directly to the company such as bandits harassing caravans or slaves plotting rebellion. The Company never takes contracts as a matter of principle and a sense of politeness towards the Razors.

General Labor:The men and women who serve as general muscle for the Company. They serve as bodyguards for the traders and higher up personal and protecting caravans or bringing in debtors who ran out of time, run messages to the various offices in the city, take care of the horses and repair the wagons. They take care of all the small things that go into running a business that most people wouldn't even think. It's not exactly glamorous but the Company would fall apart without them. The largest subset of the Company, the vast majority of employees start here. They are free to apply for a shift to one of the other positions or might be offered one if they show impressive aptitude in a particular area.

Intrigues of Venedig - High Fantasy Mature RP

Cocheta

Name: Cocheta Alhryt
Age: 27
Physical Description: Cocheta's whole body is coated in scars and burns from fighting, marks from battles with bandits, beasts and people who had to be "convinced" that she was in charge of their lives now. Her arms and legs bulge with powerfully corded muscles, made for propelling fist, feet or blade into the skulls of her opponents. If one caught her bathing or in some other situation where she wasn't wearing her solid steel and leather armor they'd see a strong back and eight pack abdomen, a hard body for a hard life. Her face is a different story. Salesmanship is the single most important aspect of her job and a warm smile is often the difference between someone walking away or shaking hands on a deal. She keeps her face clear of any blemishes, her tusks and the gold nose ring she wears well polished, the thick ropes of her hair done up in neat dreadlocks decorated with feathers and beads. A bit of makeup applied to her lips, cheeks and eyes give her that bit of appeal that can be so helpful in suckering people in.

Cocheta

Important items:

Quick Sprint

A noble stallion Cocheta raised since he was a colt. Strong enough to carry her and one other person as well as her equipment.

Freedom

A simple iron tomahawk decorated over the years with engravings and trophies from defeated enemies.

Captivity

6 feet long and made of black leather, Cocheta wields this cat 'o' nine tails with vicious skill

Blow-Breaker

Steel lamellar armor with thick leather beneath it, it's saved it's owner from many a wound.

Short Bio: Cocheta was born to Delshay Alhryt of Alhryt-Liu Trade and Lending, heir to a banking empire built off the backs of slaves. Her life was planned out for her as soon as she was born: training in the arts of bartering and diplomacy as well as honing her skills in combat to ensure that she could defend her family business. The young Xul took to her lessons very well, memorizing byzantine trade laws and currency exchange rates as well as learning to use a tomahawk and whip. There was a certain symetry she enjoyed about her teachings, being instructed on how to dismantle a person's finances as well as their body. A properly worded contract could be just as devastating a weapon as any blade provided the signer was desperate enough. There was no shortage of people who needed a loan, families trying to keep their homes, mothers who couldn't make enough money to feed their children, men who had gambled away their wages. Her father taught how to get all of them to sign terms they couldn't afford. Short term losses that led to new stock to sell on the block.

And when too many people actually managed to pay off the exorbitant interests rates there was always plenty of people traveling the roads by themselves, hunters that could be snatched from the woods, stock in other countries that could be quietly seized. There were plenty of opportunities to make money once you knew where to look. And she got her chance to start looking at the age of twenty when her father retired.

Seven years later she managed to do quite well for herself, increasing profits by almost fifty percent. But it's not enough. Cocheta is determined to make as much money as she can for as long as she can.
Starting Faction:
Spell List: None
Exceptional Skill List: Exceptional Trade (2) Exceptional Tomahawk Usage (2) Exceptional Whip Usage (1) Exceptional Diplomacy (1)

~ Phantom Thieves of London: The Calling ~

CS

Name
Elizabeth Astor

Gender
Female

Age
19, March 19,

Sexuality
Bisexual

Nationality
American

Appearance

Elizabeth

The most noticeable thing about Elizabeth is her height, or rather her lack of it. Standing at an impressively diminutive four feet and eight inches it's quite easy to overlook her, not helped by her tendency to sit in the back of any given room. When not in her school uniform the young lady opts to wear elegant blouses and skirts or a comfy sweater and slacks, brightening up the usually dark ensemble with chokers of red or blue. Her face is delicately proportioned and tends to express only dreamy nonchalance at any given situation.

Her most distinctive feature is covered by her clothes, a surgical scar from when her ribs were broken by a kick from a young horse on her mother's ranch. A long line tracing over the right side of her body, it serves as a painful reminder to never let her guard down in any situation.

Metaverse Appearance

A regal cavalry officer's uniform with this Hat and this Mask.

Height
4'8"

Personality
At first glance Elizabeth seems like a gentle woman, kind and thoughtful even if she was quiet and maybe even a bit slow. When people speak to her it takes a moment for her eyes to focus on them, the young lady shaking her head like a dog trying to scare off flies. Often times a near whispered "Come again?" are the first words to come out of her mouth, her New England accent shining through. While her conversational partner repeats themselves they might find her humming quietly to herself or fiddling with her choker, nodding her head in time to unheard music while reaching down to pet her dogs Basker and Buck. She's often written off as airheaded and harmless, a pretty face with nothing behind it.

Nothing could be farther from reality. Her relatives on her father's side are all old money Yankees whose family had made it's forturne selling gunpowder to both sides of the American Civil War and crushing coal miner's strikes during the Gilded Age. Her maternal grandfather was a Texas oil and cattle baron who had crushed all his local competitors using underhanded business practices and benefited from "mysterious" arson attacks on rival wells and ranches. Besides receiving education from world renowned private tutors from the age of three she picked up from her family a shrewd mind for business and cold analysis of situations. One habit she has is making lists of weaknesses and past trauma she gleans from conversations and making plans on how utilize them to force favors out of the person.

And she hates it. Both sides of her family had ingrained her with a brutal mindset focused on extracting money out of every possible situation and leveraging all relationships for insider information and wiggling into backroom deals, had tried to make her into the next Washington lobbyist or boardroom cutthroat, and she's not about to play their game. Elizabeth is caring person, an animal lover who will turn out her pockets for every last bit of change in them to give to the less fortunate. She also carries a firm sense of right and wrong and a fierce belief in free will, a direct contrast to the amoral family that had tried to force her into the life of a ruthless capitalist.

Persona

Fenrir

A massive canine glowing orange and blue of the Justice arcana, Fenrir is capable of tearing apart enemies with teeth and claws or utilizing attacks of blinding nuclear energy.

Skill
Nuclear

Equipment
Model 1840 Cavalry Saber
Beowulf Rifle

Education
Sociology (St. Paul's College)
BTEC Business Studies(Evergreen)
A-Level Music (Evergreen)
A-Level Religious Studies (Evergreen)
Elizabeth also speaks fluent Spanish and Chinese and is a talented pianist, besides her ability to ride horses and shoot.
Biography
Elizabeth Astor was born three weeks early to Johnathan Astor and Katherine Simmons in the upscale resort of Martha's Vineyard during the parent's vacation, being delivered by a private doctor in a hotel room that was bigger than most people's houses. It was a sign of what was to come, the young girl being whisked off to the family mansion in New Bedford to be tended to by an army of nurses and nannies. The moment she wet herself her diaper was changed, she could hardly let out a single cry before some attentive nursemaid scooped her up and quieted her down. The closet full of diapers and baby clothes was big enough to have served as her playpen if she didn't have a room stocked with toys and stuffed animal hung with paintings of cherubs and woodland creatures. She had more than any baby needed or wanted but lacked a functional family.

Johnathan Astor and Katherine Clark were a marriage of a convenience through and through, a shrewd attempt by both families to try and gain an upper hand on their competitors and to secure an heir to both empires. It was a completely loveless relationship. The couple had separate bedrooms and had various affairs in them that the other knew about and didn't care. There was no animosity, in fact they were on friendly terms. They were both business oriented sharks who devoted themselves to their private ventures and worked together to mold their daughter into the next Rockefeller. To that end they surrounded her with the best tutors money could buy, teaching English, Chinese, mathematics, the classics, art history, any and every subject that they could.

When Elizabeth turned ten her mother moved back out to her grandfather's estate in Nevada, the young Astor splitting her time between the cold of New England and the heat of the Mojave. On the ranch she learned to shoot guns, ride horses, and train dogs as well as continued her training in the art of the deal. But the most important lesson she picked up was to never let her guard down. When little Astor was twelve she earned herself a kick to the ribs from a horse she was grooming after having failed to notice its agitation. It was a glancing blow, but even a light tap from a full grown horse is cause for alarm. Elizabeth managed to escape the situation with three broken ribs, a punctured lung, a scar from the emergency surgery, and an important lesson: watch your surroundings and pay attention to how people react.

While she was recovering she spent a lot of time with a cousin named Jacob who would show up with books and board games, the two playing Monopoly while he would tell her stories of robbers who would break into people's dreams to find the location of their treasure. Elizabeth didn't recognize that she was being groomed, prepared to be introduced to the family's real line of work when she was older. Both the Astors and Clarks were families that could enter the Metaverse and used their skills to ensure that things went their way. Elizabeth was simply the next in a long line of young men and women inducted into the business when they reached the age of twenty.

But she left the country before that could happen. She had grown to hate the way both sides of her family tree seemed to focus on money over anything else. She didn't want to make profit for profit's sake, to be drawn into the soulless world of business. She wanted to be a musician, an writer, a painter, anything that involved life and joy. She was allowed the chance to break free at seventeen when her grandfather passed away, leaving her with an inheritance of millions dollars as well as a small ranch of her own in New Mexico. The opportunity had presented itself and she seized it, going through the process of getting herself legally emancipated so she could get the inheritance transferred to a personal account.

As soon as the money was in her bank account she took off for London, selected at random. The ranch ran itself and she never needed to work a day in her life, she was living out a scenario most teens could only dream of. Now what to do with this freedom?
Affiliations
Katherine Simmons (Mother)
Jonathan Astor (Father)
Jacob Simmons (Cousin)

Relationships
To be filled out as the RP progresses

Character Theme
Not necessary, but can be used if wished.

The Calling ~ Persona 5-esc RP

Tag, even though we were already talking lmao

Noble Arms: Restoring Hope - With Gratitude to TheHangedMan

On the Road Towards Rasafeh

The troops nodded and murmured varying words of assent, as well as a few muttered comments about her way of speaking and dress. What kind of person wore full medieval armor to fight in a desert? The horse made some sense, but a cape and plate mail? And why did she speak like that? "So-called nuisance who dares foil our cause?" What was that about

It only takes an hour or so of riding under the bone bleaching Syrian sun before the Hammer agent is contacted via her radio by one of her underlings. "Hey boss, hope you're not too hot in that armor. the nameless voice snickered. "Anyway, intel from the Holy Trinity: the good Doctor is traveling in a white Jeep Wrangler with tinted windows and is believed to be accompanied by two private security guards working for Academi, formerly known as Blackwater Security Company. According to files pulled from records, you're dealing with Martin Eichmann, a former US Navy SEAL, and Marissa Short, graduate of the Seaborn Acadamy of Arms. Short is a C ranked Arms User while Eichmann is simply well trained and well equipped. You are advised to deal with both of them in a way that minimizes risk to Dr. Black. Keep riding and report in when you have her subdued."

The call ends and within minutes the target vehicle is in site, dust streaked Jeep barreling down the road and leaving a cloud of dirt in its wake. Nearly two hundred feet off from the armor-clad woman the jeeps veers to the left as if making room for her to pass by.

@Argonaut

Noble Arms: Restoring Hope - With Gratitude to TheHangedMan

John Smith
Somewhere in Syria

There was a certain level of finesse that went into running a worldwide organization bent on the destruction of the current order. Smith was the absolute commander of an army consisting of thousands of Arms Users with weapons and vehicles, two major cities and a large swath of the Middle East as well as millions of dollars scattered across the globe in secret accounts and stashes. It was no mean feat managing it all. Shipments of Type 56 rifles from Cambodia, surplus LAW rockets stolen and sold by leftist and rightist factions in South America, an influx of foreign volunteers to train and equip, Soviet era tanks to station at hidden outposts, a horde of mind controlled double agents to put to use scrounging up information and assassinating threats...

Things every leader had to deal with.

Luckily for him his underlings were mostly competent. Amaterasu and Abbadon were both out preparing for the initial invasion, brother and sister setting up some nasty surprises for the Symbiosis bastards. He could also draw on the support on a intelligent and loyal officer corp, dedicated men and women who could lead with the perfect mixture of respect and fear from their troops. One of them was in the perfect position to deal with a couple of problems for him. The dignified man scribbled down a note and handed it off to one of the many junior officers and guards scattered about the makeshift office.

A few minutes later Carmilla's radio buzzed to life, a curt female voice detailing the errands that needed to be ran. "Orders from HQ. You're given the choice as to which one you'd prefer to handle, as long as you do so in a timely manner. You can take ten men with you, please send the remainder back to base. As always efficiency is valued, and failure will reflect poorly on you." It was the standard polite warning: fuck up too many times or even look like you're a threat to the security of the Hammers and you will be dealt with violently.

"The first errand involves a DFS armory holding a variety of small arms as well as explosives and anti-vehicle weaponry. Obviously this material is better off in our hands. You will go to the coordinates sent and'persuade' the militia there to hand over there supplies on pain of death.

"The second option is a one person job. Dr. Leslie Black, general practitioner from Sydney and advocate for healthcare initiatives in impoverished areas, has recently stumbled into business she should keep out of. During one of her visits to the outskirts of Hama to distribute medical supplies and do check ups one of her young patients let slip his father's involvement in our organization. She and an armed guard are currently driving back to Rasafeh, where she might let someone know about what she learned. You will stop her vehicle and take her, alive, to a drop off point."

"So take your pick and good luck. HQ out."

The radio call dies out in a crackle of static, leaving the agent with her choice.

Steampunk: Dragons and Battleships

Is there going to be a discord chat for this RP?

EDIT: Would the ship's doctor be considered an engineer?