A tasty byte of a dark Digimon story.
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This section is for roleplays only.
ALL interest checks/recruiting threads must go in the Recruit Here section.
Please remember to credit artists when using works not your own.
Fandom Digimon Story: Calculated Corruption Characters
- Thread starter Sir Les Paul
- Start date
- Created at
- Index progress
- Incomplete
Sir Les Paul
The Duke of Chords
I don't really have a set "character template" in terms of aesthetics. I do have some requests, though:
- Please do not use a template that makes all the text into tiny scroll boxes. Those work fine on mobile, but I am predominantly a desktop user.
- I would prefer images that are caroonish or anime in nature. Hyper-realistic is fine, but this game is not meant for models.
- One of my only non-negotiables: third person, past tense. You break my brain when I have to read multiple tenses.
Aside from that, here we go:
Name: We're basing this in the United States, if that's useful.
Appearance: Try to keep in mind the age range.
Gender: This is mostly here for simplicity. I don't care what anyone identifies as.
Age: 12 - 17
Personality: Actually important, it needs to match the sin
History: Get as creative as you want, but much like the personality, it needs to match the sin
Sin: One of the six. You may end up competing for it
Partner: While I had six pre-selected, I may be convinced for others as long as they can reasonably Digivolve into the correct Demon Lord.
Miscellaneous Music videos, notes, etc.
- Please do not use a template that makes all the text into tiny scroll boxes. Those work fine on mobile, but I am predominantly a desktop user.
- I would prefer images that are caroonish or anime in nature. Hyper-realistic is fine, but this game is not meant for models.
- One of my only non-negotiables: third person, past tense. You break my brain when I have to read multiple tenses.
Note: if English is not your first language or you just struggle with tenses, I'm more forgiving. This is more for the people genuinely writing in other formats.
- Please do not post your character sheet in the form of an interview. Aside from that, here we go:
Name: We're basing this in the United States, if that's useful.
Appearance: Try to keep in mind the age range.
Gender: This is mostly here for simplicity. I don't care what anyone identifies as.
Age: 12 - 17
Personality: Actually important, it needs to match the sin
History: Get as creative as you want, but much like the personality, it needs to match the sin
Sin: One of the six. You may end up competing for it
Partner: While I had six pre-selected, I may be convinced for others as long as they can reasonably Digivolve into the correct Demon Lord.
Miscellaneous Music videos, notes, etc.
Code:
[b]Name:[/b]
[b]Appearance:[/b]
[b]Gender[/b]
[b]Age:[/b]
[b]Personality:[/b]
[b]History:[/b]
[b]Sin:[/b]
[b]Partner:[/b]
[b]Miscellaneous[/b]
Merciless Medic
PokéDictionary & Gacha Addict (GI/HSR/ZZZ/WuWa/AK)
Drake Dawkins
Height: 5'7" (170.1 cm)Gender: Male
Weight: 135 lbs (61.2 kg)
Hair Style: Wavy, Short, with Bangs
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Blue
Age: 17
Birthday: January 30, 1992
General Appearance: Pale, he looks like the quintessential American teenager at the end of their high school years. He's pretty average, with a mixture of lean and bulky in his musculature. While he doesn't wear makeup, he will wear his earing studs and has multiple piercings along his ears, which he has neglected to hang anything from them. He may look a bit older, but that's thanks to his experimentation with smoking and drinking at a rather young age.
Clothing Style: He's extremely casual, borderline thuggish, in his apparel. He may even sometimes don goth-like clothes. But usually, he has dark jeans that may be ripped, combat boots, a turtleneck shirt, and a sweater. Gloves, chokers, rings, bangles and bracelets, he likes to wear them but tends to forget them. His favorite though are anything with spikes.
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Pumpkid
~Vibing along the cosmos~
Veronica Heart
Gender:
Female
Age:
16
Personality:
History:
Veronica grew up in a small town in Madison, Indiana where nothing eventful ever happens. Thankfully, the children in the early 2000’s had an active imagination. Especially for Veronica. A child obsessed with becoming a singer. She would boast about it to friends, and disrupt class over it. Her desire to be admired came from her beloved mother, Ximena. Her lullabies were ethereal. Like a dream catcher, they would ward away Veronica's nightmares, and comfort her. Ximena would earn praise during family events. Veronica sought the same adoration her mother received, in some ways hoping to be like her, in some ways enjoying the attention. However, that type of boisterous behavior often had consequences. Her father was quick to shut her down, half-embarrassed by what he thought was attention-seeking. She wasn’t put down as much as she was just told no; a word not within her vocabulary. Thankfully, Ximena was the mediator between him, and the children.
Between work, dealing with household chores, and the children, Ximena never had time to herself. She would stubbornly push herself to finish what she started, and by the end of the night was when she would rest. Veronica would take notice of her mother's fatigue every now and then, but shrugged it off as her being old. Sometimes she was asked to take care of her twin brothers, to her dismay. No one realized the internal struggle Ximena was going through. She hid it behind her smile until the day she collapsed on the kitchen floor, traumatizing her kids. Santiago, Veronica's father, was at work leaving the kids to solve the problem on their own by bawling. Veronica took the initiative of making an emergency phone call to the hospital where the family found out their mother was diagnosed with cancer.
The remaining few months with Veronica’s mother felt like a change in her life. It was like everyday was fleeting with her mother. Having to visit the hospital everyday was dreary, and responsibilities to look after her brothers became permanent. To help dress them up, feed them, all at the request of her mother. Her father would visit when he could, but each time felt emotional as if he was losing someone dear. It would scare the kids, but there was no other way to console them other than prepare them for death by singing her songs. When the time came, Ximena gave her final words of wisdom to always find their way after her passing. One specific rhyme was given to Veronic. ‘A bird on a wire will always be, but a bird in the sky roams free.’ Holding her hand, and feeling it slip was a gut punch. Everything that felt warm felt cold without her. The environment in her household also changed immensely.
Losing Ximena at a young age of seven, has been hard in her teenage years. Their father spiraled into an alcoholic tyrant, unwilling to face reality. Veronica was left to pick up after everyone. Her dreams of becoming a singer became impossible, and yet she used her situation as a muse to write her own songs daydreaming of an escape. The one place a musician like her would be accepted with warm weather, and large houses. Hollywood, California. The idea kept her going everyday to push through. There were times where she would zone out for hours at a time. She would sing something from the heart while thinking of her mother. Her dream of soaring never died, yet her father tried to make sure of it, but with the conflicting circumstances of her life, the only answer she could think of was to run away. She couldn't do that. She would let her late mother down, but her desire to leave was more powerful. What did confirm her passion was sneaking out to see a local band. The crowd went wild for them, and by the end of the night when she returned home, she was absolutely certain of what she wanted from life; or more accurately, what she would refuse to let her life become.
Enough was enough. She was old enough to make her own decisions. Just one more year to go. She didn't need a diploma, or anyone else's approval. Her brothers are old enough to take care of themselves. They are her father's favorite anyway. As she snuck out through the window, keys in hand, she threw her duffle bag in the back of the truck. Before she could open the car door, she noticed a light from afar. As she went to check on it, she tripped and suddenly found herself in the tundras in the blink of an eye with no idea what occurred.
Sin:
Lust
Partner:
Tsukaimon
Evolution Line:
[*Click names for images*] Poyomon--->Tokomon--->Tsukaimon--->Witchmon--->Bastemon--->Lilithmon
D-Tector
Miscellaneous:
*Veronica can sing, and play acoustic
*Her dream is to become a singer
*Loves coffee
*Loves chocolate and lollipops
Gallery
Veronica grew up in a small town in Madison, Indiana where nothing eventful ever happens. Thankfully, the children in the early 2000’s had an active imagination. Especially for Veronica. A child obsessed with becoming a singer. She would boast about it to friends, and disrupt class over it. Her desire to be admired came from her beloved mother, Ximena. Her lullabies were ethereal. Like a dream catcher, they would ward away Veronica's nightmares, and comfort her. Ximena would earn praise during family events. Veronica sought the same adoration her mother received, in some ways hoping to be like her, in some ways enjoying the attention. However, that type of boisterous behavior often had consequences. Her father was quick to shut her down, half-embarrassed by what he thought was attention-seeking. She wasn’t put down as much as she was just told no; a word not within her vocabulary. Thankfully, Ximena was the mediator between him, and the children.
Between work, dealing with household chores, and the children, Ximena never had time to herself. She would stubbornly push herself to finish what she started, and by the end of the night was when she would rest. Veronica would take notice of her mother's fatigue every now and then, but shrugged it off as her being old. Sometimes she was asked to take care of her twin brothers, to her dismay. No one realized the internal struggle Ximena was going through. She hid it behind her smile until the day she collapsed on the kitchen floor, traumatizing her kids. Santiago, Veronica's father, was at work leaving the kids to solve the problem on their own by bawling. Veronica took the initiative of making an emergency phone call to the hospital where the family found out their mother was diagnosed with cancer.
The remaining few months with Veronica’s mother felt like a change in her life. It was like everyday was fleeting with her mother. Having to visit the hospital everyday was dreary, and responsibilities to look after her brothers became permanent. To help dress them up, feed them, all at the request of her mother. Her father would visit when he could, but each time felt emotional as if he was losing someone dear. It would scare the kids, but there was no other way to console them other than prepare them for death by singing her songs. When the time came, Ximena gave her final words of wisdom to always find their way after her passing. One specific rhyme was given to Veronic. ‘A bird on a wire will always be, but a bird in the sky roams free.’ Holding her hand, and feeling it slip was a gut punch. Everything that felt warm felt cold without her. The environment in her household also changed immensely.
Losing Ximena at a young age of seven, has been hard in her teenage years. Their father spiraled into an alcoholic tyrant, unwilling to face reality. Veronica was left to pick up after everyone. Her dreams of becoming a singer became impossible, and yet she used her situation as a muse to write her own songs daydreaming of an escape. The one place a musician like her would be accepted with warm weather, and large houses. Hollywood, California. The idea kept her going everyday to push through. There were times where she would zone out for hours at a time. She would sing something from the heart while thinking of her mother. Her dream of soaring never died, yet her father tried to make sure of it, but with the conflicting circumstances of her life, the only answer she could think of was to run away. She couldn't do that. She would let her late mother down, but her desire to leave was more powerful. What did confirm her passion was sneaking out to see a local band. The crowd went wild for them, and by the end of the night when she returned home, she was absolutely certain of what she wanted from life; or more accurately, what she would refuse to let her life become.
Enough was enough. She was old enough to make her own decisions. Just one more year to go. She didn't need a diploma, or anyone else's approval. Her brothers are old enough to take care of themselves. They are her father's favorite anyway. As she snuck out through the window, keys in hand, she threw her duffle bag in the back of the truck. Before she could open the car door, she noticed a light from afar. As she went to check on it, she tripped and suddenly found herself in the tundras in the blink of an eye with no idea what occurred.
Sin:
Lust
Partner:
Tsukaimon
Evolution Line:
[*Click names for images*] Poyomon--->Tokomon--->Tsukaimon--->Witchmon--->Bastemon--->Lilithmon
D-Tector
Miscellaneous:
*Veronica can sing, and play acoustic
*Her dream is to become a singer
*Loves coffee
*Loves chocolate and lollipops
Gallery
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Acethekidd
Ready to set the world on fire?
Elijah Heart
| "This is the sound of me not caring" Eli |
Age: 17
Sin: Sloth
Partner: Phascomon
Personality:
He’s the kind of guy who always seems half-asleep, laid out on a beanbag or his unmade bed with a remote in one hand and a snack in the other. He moves whenever he feels like and and rarely shows any real urgency about anything. To him, stress is for people who care too much, and caring too much is a waste of time. He lives in the moment, drifting through life with the energy of a sloth and the attitude of someone who’s seen it all and couldn’t be bothered.
His words are laced with sarcasm, and he’s got a smart mouth that gets under people’s skin. Ask him to do something, and he’ll probably roll his eyes and toss back a half-hearted quip like, “Sure, right after I win the lottery and grow wings.” He’s clever—too clever, really—but he uses that brainpower to avoid work rather than embrace it. He sees through people’s intentions and isn’t afraid to call them out with a dry remark that leaves them unsure if they’ve been insulted or not.
Despite the edge in his voice, he’s not angry—just detached. He doesn’t hold grudges; he just doesn’t care enough to get involved. He floats along, unbothered by expectations or rules, with a carefree smirk and a shrug that says, “Whatever happens, happens.” Life burned him out early, and now he’s just here for the ride—quietly mocking it all from the sidelines.
History:
Once, he was the brightest student in his class—a quiet, gentle boy with a intelligence far beyond his years. Teachers praised him, classmates depended on him, and his family collected his report cards like trophies. Whenever someone needed help with homework or chores, they turned to him, knowing he’d say yes without hesitation. At first, he was happy to help, believing kindness was its own reward. But as time passed, he realized no one returned the favor. They saw him not as a person, but a tool—useful, but forgettable.
At school, his so-called friends pushed their responsibilities onto him, using flattery and guilt to get their way. At home, his family expected him to excel without question, piling more onto his shoulders while ignoring his exhaustion. He began to crumble under the weight of expectations, and when he tried to speak up, they called him ungrateful or lazy. The constant pressure and lack of appreciation chipped away at his spirit, and slowly, he stopped trying. His grades slipped. His motivation vanished. He became the very thing they called him..lazy .
The boy who once helped everyone would grow cold and bitter. He didn’t care anymore. He no longer wanted to help, to please, to succeed. It all felt pointless. Instead of studying or socializing, he locked himself in his room for hours, the blinds drawn and the door firmly shut. Cartoons became his escape, microwaved food his comfort. He let the days bleed into each other, uninterested in anything beyond the glow of the screen and the next bite of junk.
Now, when people knock on his door, he doesn’t answer. When they call his name, he pretends not to hear. They say he’s wasting his potential, that he’s fallen from grace. But in his mind, they were the ones who broke him. Once, he was kind. Once, he wanted to make the world better. But now, in the dark solitude of his room, he finds peace in doing nothing—because doing something always ended with him being used.
FC:
Shintaro Kisaragi | Kagerou Project
GamerKitty205
words are hard
Gender Female
Age: 15
Sin: Envy
Partner: Syakomon
Personality: Ivy is a quiet and kind individual. She’s careful not to step on any toes, she’s perfectly pleasant, more than ready to provide a helping hand. Loyal to a fault, she has a habit of trailing behind her friends, easily convinced to join in on any sort of activity. Everything about her paints the picture of someone sweet and shy and earnest.
Which she, of course, isn’t. Ivy has always wanted to be more than what she was. She’s hated her own stammering fear, her weakness, her indecisiveness. Though she’s long past given up on ever becoming something better. How could she ever? Someone who’s barely a speck of dust compared to people who shine like brilliant stars.
So Ivy has chosen to stick to those who have what she covets. If she cannot match their light, she can simply bask in it. Though every day her smiles become more false and her heart grows more bitter. If the chance came for Ivy to snatch up all she desired she’d take it in a heartbeat.
History: Ivy grew up in a pretty average family as the middle child of five siblings. While they were never left wanting materially, it was often a competition for their parent’s limited attention. One quiet well behaved Ivy could never win. Not a trouble maker, particularly outgoing, or smart for her age, she rarely got more than platitudes and empty smiles. It always hurt, how her parents could overlook her so easily... but her anger was always directed towards her siblings. Her eldest sister especially— often praised for her work in school and her mature attitude. For a time Ivy tried to model herself after her sister, but always seemed to come short of her goal.
And so her focus... shifted. As ignored as she was, it made sneaking around much easier. An essay misplaced, a gift or two ruined. It did very little to turn her parent’s gaze on her, but seeing her sister panicked was exciting. It felt like revenge— even if her sister had never done her a single bit of harm. The victory was short lived, of course. The spate of accidents made her parent’s more watchful, her sister more wary, but it did little to fix her situation. She was still overlooked, still ignored, still the least noteworthy of her whole family.
As she got older, Ivy started drifting towards the most popular kids, the smartest, the most well liked. She told herself she was content just... being around these people. Enjoying watching someone swan around with all the love and attention she should have. Though no amount of effort could keep her mind away from fantasies of vengeance. Of watching someone so great crumble, and maybe, just maybe, being able to take some of what they had for herself. A dark dream, and one she always knew could never come true.
And then she disappeared in digital snow. Snatched from sudden death by an icy savior, Ivy was elated to learn of her destiny and yet still not satisfied. One of a special six and still not the most important— stuck playing support for some strange creature. Still playing second fiddle to those around her. At least for now.
Miscellaneous: Terrible eye-sight, loves reality shows, a fairly good baker.
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The Regal Rper
Mad Scientist
Basics
Name: Maron Vincent Perez
Sin: Greed
Age: 16
Gender: M
Eye Color: Light Hazel
Hair Color: Black
Current H | W: 5'7'' | | XX LBS
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Black Gabumon
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Relationship: BG as Maron calls her, have formed a strong bond. The two are capable of witty commentary off each other, but between the two of them BG was the one who played a somewhat cooler head between them. In combat the two were generally an aggressive tag team, and tended to watch out closely for the group as a whole consideiring in Maron's mind, in this world, they only have each other.
Digi-tector:Pale Blue considerple and Green theme. CD Keychain attached to it.
Evolution Line
Black Gabumon -> Sangluopmon -> Myotismon -> Barbamon
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Persona
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A opportunist is the simplest way to put it. Maron has no problem taking situations and turning them to his advantage or the advantage of those in his circle, especially if it leads to his benefit. This is something he does not hide and is forward about. He paints it in different ways, won't be as forward depending on the person he is engaging with, or can see when it might be better to cut his losses, but if there are other avenues that present themselves to fulfill his interests or goals, he'll go for it.
Anything that works to his benefit can be somewhat justified in some shape or form, unless of course it threatens his personal safety or even the safety of people he cares about.
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History
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The people that were around Maron’s family talked a lot about the state of New York when he was a kid. He didn't understand all of what they said, but as a kid he understood, at the time, things were rough in the streets. People ODing on crack, houses getting broken into, individuals getting mugged in broad daylight at the wrong alleyway or lonely corridor.
Bronx was home, as chaotic and disorderly as it could be. And, though his family had no plans in staying in such chaos forever, Bronx left it's mark as it taught him the value of leverage in a tough environment. School especially, taught him how to get things he wanted if he invested the right way.
The public school he went to advertised itself as particularly attentive to its students but not all the staff were. It had students from First grade all the way up to high school. When the teachers weren't looking, or when they didn't seem to think the issues were that big, older students particularly from middle school level had no problem picking on younger ones. Taking lunch money. Stealing homemade foods. Making fun of clothes. Swiping snacks. Being little brats in general. To make friends there, Maron used the situation to make connections.
Cliques were important and he learned how to find his between those older or in the same age range. Despite being in Bronx, Maron had a diversity of tastes stemming from older siblings. He knew music through an older brother, he knew video games, he understood fashion through his sister, candy was something everyone loved, the latest show trend, invitations to his place. Soon enough if he wanted something from someone in his possie, he could ask or even better, he could swap it for something he considered of lesser value. He created his own network and that in turn came in handy when dealing with bullies. A unfair fight with a jerk, could turn into an unfair fight of numbers.
By the time he was twelve, he had shifted things into his favor. When you had the numbers, it was easy, and when you had people that already disliked things from within, you gained a lot of potential to swim around the posturing that was common in that school based off strength, size, or even personality.
2006 was the start of the new way. Life was different in Manhattan. His parents had gotten their big breaks. New jobs, new places. They all moved, his older siblings were entering college by then. In Manhattan, Maron entered a new school with a new environment.
Life in Manhattan was easier than the streets of Bronx. The new school was better too. It took adjusting, but Maron was flexible. He came to understand the new way to play the game in his new school.
Kids were gullible, naive, it easy to coax. Out of the friends he made, Maron got help figuring out which ones in school were the smartest, which were the popular, who were the cool kids, who were the jocks. It took two years, and by the time he was fourteen he had started a new gig to earn some cash.
You needed a essay done? A book report due? Math? He was your guy. If he wasn't, he knew someone that was, and only he could get you the solution to your problem.
There was a fee for him to take the job, and a fee to pay someone if he wasn't doing it personally. If it was a solo assignment he charged extra, if he got a friend to do it, the price was even higher. That didn't change the quality of the work that he provided. Maron knew that low quality would only hurt his business. If any friend did the job, they took it serious not just because of the cut they would get, but because he knew them personally. Well enough to know they wouldn't gotcha job.
Business was smooth, he was doing well for a while. All kinds of kids lined up and that earned all kinds of connections in a few months.
Rei was one of them, so were some of her friends,.all part of this little popular circle. He didn't really care though, so long as he got his pay for the work he did. They popped in once and then after their grade came back better than they expected for paid work, they came in again. This went on for a while, with Rei and her friends being his occasional customer. By the time he was fifteen, they'd become quite familiar.
That was where Rei told him something surprising. That his work was good but he could be making more.
She left him wanting to know just what she meant by that for weeks. One of her games, was how he had taken it. Eventually, he couldn't take the curiosity anymore. The benefit of already having some familiarity among the popular or richer circles was how much easier it was to walk up to a girl like Rei. Especially since she already had a reputation for being a tough one too.
It took weeks, but eventually he managed to get her to tell him just what she meant. She admitted she had a job, the kinda job you could make a better buck from than the small amount he was making from the student body.
A meeting was set, a relative of hers, a cousin, she introduced him to over smoothies. It was super casual, very relaxed, with Rei and her friends and this random cousin and probably would have continued if the whole atmosphere didn't also feel strange.
Then the bomb was dropped on just how he could start making big bucks. And, in all honesty he was hesitant. Yet...he couldn't lie and say he wasn't curious just how much he could make.
So he started his gig with them. They told him to do a series of tests. Steal a few items from a store, don't get caught, come back, and then they'd move forward. There were at least three different places he hit, and after successfully completing that- Rei took him with her group to start going after bigger fish a month later.
Sure, stealing and selling goods wasn't right. Sure he felt a little bad. The pay though? It was worth it.
This went on all the way till the final job he could recall.
He had graduated from lookout to entering the place himself with Rei and a few others. Quick job. At least until everything went fuzzy when he entered a room.
Waking up in a frozen wasteland was a rude awakening though.
Being saved, going through all the insanity with his Digimon partner, knowing the new stakes he was being put in, felt like a chance. A chance to reset, change the way he had let his life play out. And by all means, just like everything else, he'd seize it.
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Landsharks
monke mode
Nadia Kaminski
Appearance:
Platinum blonde hair, bordering white in the right lighting. Stands at 5'8". Toned, athletic build. Favors casual streetwear and comfort over fashion.
Gender: Female
Age: 16
Personality:
Smart-mouthed, impulsive, and petty, but nonetheless laser-focused and determined when she sets her mind to something. She has an endless capacity for holding grudges, and never lets anything go once something’s set her off. However, treat Nadia well, and she’ll gladly return the favor several times over.
Despite her hotheadedness and poor temper, she nonetheless has a very strongly defined sense of right and wrong. If you leave others alone, you're fine. If you're a jackass, you deserve to be hurt. Simple as that. Nadia doesn't care whose toes she steps on with this attitude: if you protest against it, you're clearly hiding something.
She's gotten worse about this in recent years: her growing anger issues have led to her snapping at people for even the smallest of slights, whether they be real or assumed. With how much Nadia assumes she's the only "right" person, anyone in direct opposition to her is wrong. And therefore she ought to be allowed to punish them as she sees fit, overkill or not.
Beneath her exterior roughness is a troubled teen frustrated by her lack of agency and cause, constantly told she was taking things too far and that she couldn't just impose her standards on others. Simply put, she wants to do something good and right, but her idea of such is warped and she lacks the ability to do much more than punch annoying people in the face.
Still won't stop her from punching annoying people in the face, though.
History:
Born to a pair of Polish immigrants that settled in New York, Nadia has spent the entirety of her life in Brooklyn. Her father worked in construction, while her mother picked up a job as a clerk. They weren't doing that well financially, by any means, but at the very least, they stayed above the poverty line. Still, that didn't mean there weren't problems.
Kids at school were jackasses. She solved the problem at seven years old through a strategic application of her fist to the face of the first person to give her crap. It worked. That girl didn't ever talk down to her again. The teachers didn't like that, though. They didn't like that at all. School policy was zero tolerance towards violence. Nadia's policy was zero tolerance towards anyone being a bully or a bitch. It was the start of her perpetual on-again, off-again relationship with detentions and in-school suspension. Her parents were mixed on this: on one hand, it was terrible for her record, and the suspensions were making her miss class. On the other hand, at least she wasn't getting bullied and was standing up for herself.
Things continued on like this for a few years, up until the Towers. Nadia wasn't necessarily personally affected, with most of her friends and hangouts still in Brooklyn, but the general sense of malaise in the city for the weeks, months, years after was hard to shake. So things got worse. Her parents started arguing, kids at school wound up being even bigger dickheads, and she got in worse tempers and more fights as a result. Everything was just getting worse and nothing Nadia could think of could make her situation better, save for continuing to solve the problems in front of her. With hands.
By high school, it was all reaching a fever pitch. Her parents were going through divorce proceedings, most of her friends had become alienated from the girl who only knew how to solve interpersonal issues with violence, and every authority figure around her was useless. It wasn't her fault that violence was the only language that shitheads seemed to understand.
None of this did any wonders for her temper. By sophomore year, she'd become prone to flying off the handle when provoked, starting arguments and fights just over disagreements. This spiraled into her few remaining relationships going even further south, resulting in Nadia doubling down in her ways.
Nadia wanted desperately to just be able to do something right for once and prove that she wasn't the fuckup in the wrong. Give her the chance, and she'd inflict justified vengeance against anyone that wronged her or was in the wrong in general. But where was she going to get that chance? Surely not in some freak snowstorm or something.
Sin: Wrath
Voice claim: Erica Lindbeck (Shionne)
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