I want you to believe...believe in things you cannot.
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Futuristic Malédiction Characters
- Thread starter Hell0NHighWater
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Statistics (1 threadmarks, 990 words)
User Total Hell0NHighWater 1 Threadmarks Reader mode
Hell0NHighWater
Queen of Hell
[div class=background][div class="screen secondPage" style="display:none;"]
[div class="tabsContent tabsContentInitial"] [div class="tabsContentChild"]
[/div] [/div] [div class="tabsContent tabsContentPsychological" style="display:none;"] [div class="tabsContentChild"]
[/div] [/div] [div class="tabsContent tabsContentBackground" style="display:none;"] [div class="tabsContentChild"]
[/div]
[div class="screen firstPage"]
[div class=topBar] [div class=barText]SAFETY DIVISION 9[/div] [/div]
[div class="worldImage"][/div]
[div class=memberText]KMPD ARCHIVE[/div]
[input class=inputText type=button]ACCESS[/input]
[div class="credits"]Code by Lexielai[/div]
[/div][/div]
[class=background] background: url(https://assets2.ello.co/uploads/asset/attachment/4065784/ello-optimized-e6a0995a.gif) no-repeat center; height: 750px; width: 100%; background-color: black; [/class] [class=screen] font-family: Raleway, Sans-serif; [/class] [class=topBar] background-color: #504D48; height: 7%; width: 98.5%; padding: 10px; opacity: 0.9; [/class] [class=barText] display: block; color: white; font-size: 32px; margin: auto; text-align: center; [/class] [class=worldImage] margin: auto; background-clip: border-box; width: 50%; height: 420px; [/class] [class=memberText] display: block; text-align: center; font-size: 24px; width: 50%; margin: auto; [/class] [class=inputText] display: block; background-color: #504D48; width: 13%; border-radius: 3px; padding: 5px; margin: auto; color: white; border: 1px solid #504D48; [/class] [class name=inputText state=hover] background-color: #899AA1; cursor: pointer; border: 1px solid #899AA1; [/class] [class name=tabs] width: 30%; height: 150px; font-size: 18px; box-sizing: border-box; [/class] [class=tab] display: inline-block; width: 100%; height: 25%; padding: 5px; margin-left: 30px; box-sizing: border-box; text-align: center; [/class] [class name=tab state=hover] cursor:pointer; background-color: #535556; [/class] [class name=tabsContent] float: right; margin: 30px; width: 55%; height: 600px; display: inline-block; box-sizing: border-box; overflow: hidden; [/class] [class name=tabsContentChild] width: 100%; height: 100%; overflow-y: scroll; padding: 10px 20px 10px 10px; text-align: justify; [/class] [class name=header] font-weight: bold; font-size: 36px; color: #ffffff; letter-spacing: 2px; [/class] [class name=subheader] font-size: 24px; color: #ffffff; [/class] [class name=textContent] line-height: 20px; margin-left: 20px; [/class] [class name=credits] font-size: 8px; font-style: italic; margin: 0px 20px 20px 0px; text-align: right; [/class] [script class=inputText on=click] fadeOut 1000 firstPage slideDown 1000 secondPage [/script] [script class=tab on=click] hide tabsContent set currentTab (getText) if (eq ${currentTab} "Initial Intelligence Report") (fadeIn 1000 tabsContentInitial) if (eq ${currentTab} "Required") (fadeIn 1000 tabsContentPsychological) if (eq ${currentTab} "Active Personnel") (fadeIn 1000 tabsContentBackground) [/script]
[div class="tabsContent tabsContentInitial"] [div class="tabsContentChild"]
[div class=header]Character Database[/div]
[div class="textContent"]
[/div]
[/div] [/div] [div class="tabsContent tabsContentPsychological" style="display:none;"] [div class="tabsContentChild"]
[div class="subheader"]Character Sheets[/div]
[div class="textContent"]The mandatory info is as follows:
-Name
-Age
-Division
-Rank
-Gender
-Blood Type
-Handler/Charge (if unknown put TBD)
-Personality
-Background
-Description/Picture (Preferably nothing too anime)
-Skill set
-Strengths/Weaknesses [/div]
[div class="subheader"]Code[/div] [div class="textContent" style="margin-left: 40px;"]
[/div]
-Name
-Age
-Division
-Rank
-Gender
-Blood Type
-Handler/Charge (if unknown put TBD)
-Personality
-Background
-Description/Picture (Preferably nothing too anime)
-Skill set
-Strengths/Weaknesses [/div]
[div class="subheader"]Code[/div] [div class="textContent" style="margin-left: 40px;"]
Code:
[div class=fyuriwrapper][div=display: flex; flex-wrap: wrap;][div class=left][div class=charaimg][img]https://via.placeholder.com/400x500[/img][/div][div class=header][fa]as fa-id-badge[/fa] Identification[/div][div class=text][b]Division:
Rank:
Blood Type:
Handler / Charge:[/b] If unknown leave blank for now
[/div][div class=header][fa]fas fa-list-ul[/fa] Stats[/div]
[center][b]Strength[/b][div=position:relative;width:200px;margin:auto;margin-bottom:-15px;margin-top:3px;][div=height:3px;width:100%;background:#000;][div=position:absolute;top:-5px;left:16%; border-radius:50%; -moz-border-radius:50%; -webkit-border-radius:50%;width:13px;height:13px;background:#000;][/div][/div][/div]
[b]Dexterity[/b][div=position:relative;width:200px;margin:auto;margin-bottom:-15px;margin-top:3px;][div=height:3px;width:100%;background:#000;][div=position:absolute;top:-5px;left:32%; border-radius:50%; -moz-border-radius:50%; -webkit-border-radius:50%;width:13px;height:13px;background:#000;][/div][/div][/div]
[b]Constitution[/b][div=position:relative;width:200px;margin:auto;margin-bottom:-15px;margin-top:3px;][div=height:3px;width:100%;background:#000;][div=position:absolute;top:-5px;left:48%; border-radius:50%; -moz-border-radius:50%; -webkit-border-radius:50%;width:13px;height:13px;background:#000;][/div][/div][/div]
[b]Intelligence[/b][div=position:relative;width:200px;margin:auto;margin-bottom:-15px;margin-top:3px;][div=height:3px;width:100%;background:#000;][div=position:absolute;top:-5px;left:64%; border-radius:50%; -moz-border-radius:50%; -webkit-border-radius:50%;width:13px;height:13px;background:#000;][/div][/div][/div]
[b]Wisdom[/b][div=position:relative;width:200px;margin:auto;margin-bottom:-15px;margin-top:3px;][div=height:3px;width:100%;background:#000;][div=position:absolute;top:-5px;left:80%; border-radius:50%; -moz-border-radius:50%; -webkit-border-radius:50%;width:13px;height:13px;background:#000;][/div][/div][/div]
[b]Charisma[/b][div=position:relative;width:200px;margin:auto;margin-bottom:-15px;margin-top:3px;][div=height:3px;width:100%;background:#000;][div=position:absolute;top:-5px;left:100%; border-radius:50%; -moz-border-radius:50%; -webkit-border-radius:50%;width:13px;height:13px;background:#000;][/div][/div][/div]
[/center]
[div class=header][fa]fas fa-list-ul[/fa] Skills[/div]
[center][b]Skill[/b][div=position:relative;width:200px;margin:auto;margin-bottom:-15px;margin-top:3px;][div=height:3px;width:100%;background:#000;][div=position:absolute;top:-5px;left:16%; border-radius:50%; -moz-border-radius:50%; -webkit-border-radius:50%;width:13px;height:13px;background:#000;][/div][/div][/div]
[b]Skill[/b][div=position:relative;width:200px;margin:auto;margin-bottom:-15px;margin-top:3px;][div=height:3px;width:100%;background:#000;][div=position:absolute;top:-5px;left:32%; border-radius:50%; -moz-border-radius:50%; -webkit-border-radius:50%;width:13px;height:13px;background:#000;][/div][/div][/div]
[b]Skill[/b][div=position:relative;width:200px;margin:auto;margin-bottom:-15px;margin-top:3px;][div=height:3px;width:100%;background:#000;][div=position:absolute;top:-5px;left:48%; border-radius:50%; -moz-border-radius:50%; -webkit-border-radius:50%;width:13px;height:13px;background:#000;][/div][/div][/div]
[b]Skill[/b][div=position:relative;width:200px;margin:auto;margin-bottom:-15px;margin-top:3px;][div=height:3px;width:100%;background:#000;][div=position:absolute;top:-5px;left:64%; border-radius:50%; -moz-border-radius:50%; -webkit-border-radius:50%;width:13px;height:13px;background:#000;][/div][/div][/div]
[b]Skill[/b][div=position:relative;width:200px;margin:auto;margin-bottom:-15px;margin-top:3px;][div=height:3px;width:100%;background:#000;][div=position:absolute;top:-5px;left:80%; border-radius:50%; -moz-border-radius:50%; -webkit-border-radius:50%;width:13px;height:13px;background:#000;][/div][/div][/div]
[b]Skill[/b][div=position:relative;width:200px;margin:auto;margin-bottom:-15px;margin-top:3px;][div=height:3px;width:100%;background:#000;][div=position:absolute;top:-5px;left:100%; border-radius:50%; -moz-border-radius:50%; -webkit-border-radius:50%;width:13px;height:13px;background:#000;][/div][/div][/div]
[/center]
[div class=header]Theme Music[/div][MEDIA=Youtube]p1U4gkcp_40[/MEDIA][/div][div=background-color: #fff;
flex: 1;][div class=header2][fa]fas fa-user-circle[/fa] Character Name[/div][div class=text][b]Age:
Race:
Gender:
Sexuality:
Height:
Eye Color:
Hair Color:
Extra:[/b]
[/div]
[div class=header2][fa]fas fa-brain[/fa] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras nec rhoncus orci. Aenean non sem eu sapien faucibus varius eget ac ipsum. In fermentum pharetra neque vel viverra. Aenean mattis vestibulum orci, eget pretium sem lacinia non. Sed a purus vel tellus vehicula placerat nec vel eros. Donec metus nisi, sagittis at lacinia et, convallis vel nisl. Quisque aliquet, orci sit amet pellentesque sodales, purus risus aliquet ex, non varius est mauris in sapien. Phasellus commodo mi nisl, quis lacinia nisi eleifend vel. Duis ut enim quis ante commodo faucibus non non orci. Ut purus tellus, faucibus at lorem vel, ullamcorper eleifend enim. Praesent nec sem imperdiet, dictum sapien ac, viverra est.[/div]
[div class=header2][fa]fas fa-info-circle[/fa] Header/Quote/or something[/div][div class=text]Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras nec rhoncus orci. Aenean non sem eu sapien faucibus varius eget ac ipsum. In fermentum pharetra neque vel viverra. Aenean mattis vestibulum orci, eget pretium sem lacinia non. Sed a purus vel tellus vehicula placerat nec vel eros. Donec metus nisi, sagittis at lacinia et, convallis vel nisl. Quisque aliquet, orci sit amet pellentesque sodales, purus risus aliquet ex, non varius est mauris in sapien. Phasellus commodo mi nisl, quis lacinia nisi eleifend vel. Duis ut enim quis ante commodo faucibus non non orci. Ut purus tellus, faucibus at lorem vel, ullamcorper eleifend enim. Praesent nec sem imperdiet, dictum sapien ac, viverra est.[/div]
[div class=header2][fa]fas fa-folder-open[/fa] Backstory[/div][div class=text]Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras nec rhoncus orci. Aenean non sem eu sapien faucibus varius eget ac ipsum. In fermentum pharetra neque vel viverra. Aenean mattis vestibulum orci, eget pretium sem lacinia non. Sed a purus vel tellus vehicula placerat nec vel eros. Donec metus nisi, sagittis at lacinia et, convallis vel nisl. Quisque aliquet, orci sit amet pellentesque sodales, purus risus aliquet ex, non varius est mauris in sapien. Phasellus commodo mi nisl, quis lacinia nisi eleifend vel. Duis ut enim quis ante commodo faucibus non non orci. Ut purus tellus, faucibus at lorem vel, ullamcorper eleifend enim. Praesent nec sem imperdiet, dictum sapien ac, viverra est.[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit][url=https://www.rpnation.com/threads/fyurious-codes-2-0.389838/post-9682043]code/design[/url] by [USER=39545]@Fyuri[/USER][/div][comment]do not remove/alter credit[/comment]
[nobr]
[div=display:none;][font=Prompt].[/font][/div]
[div=display:none;][font=Raleway].[/font][/div]
[class=fyuriwrapper]
max-width:950px;
margin:auto;
color:#000;
font-family:'Raleway', Verdana;
[/class]
[class=left]
background:#fff;
max-width: 350px;
margin-right: 10px;
[/class]
[class=charaimg]
text-align:center;
font-size: 0;
[/class]
[class=header]
width:100%;
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background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%);
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[/class]
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font-family:'Prompt', Verdana;
font-size:30px;
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[/class]
[class=text]
padding:10px;
box-sizing:border-box;
text-align:justify;
[/class]
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max-width:950px;
margin:auto;
opacity:0.5;
font-size:10px;
[/class]
[/nobr][/div] [/div] [div class="tabsContent tabsContentBackground" style="display:none;"] [div class="tabsContentChild"]
[div class="subheader"]Humans[/div]
[div class="textContent"]
Faith Serpica
Alekzandra Ebenhardt-Zhurkov
Aaralynn Ling Yang Wei
Cassandra Linova
[/div]
[div class="subheader"]Moroi[/div] [div class="textContent"] Aamon Buchanan
Caspian J. Valdez
Khalina Myers
[/div]
[div class="subheader"]Partners[/div] [div class="textContent"] Aamon & Aaralynn
Caspian & Faith
Khalina & Alekzandra
[/div]
[/div]
[/div]
[div class="tabsContent tabsContentBackground" style="display:none;"][div class="tabsContentChild"]
[/div]
[/div]
[div class=tabs]
[div class="tab Intelligence"]Initial Intelligence Report[/div]
[div class="tab Psychological"]Required[/div]
[div class="tab Background"]Active Personnel[/div]
[/div]Alekzandra Ebenhardt-Zhurkov
Aaralynn Ling Yang Wei
Cassandra Linova
[/div]
[div class="subheader"]Moroi[/div] [div class="textContent"] Aamon Buchanan
Caspian J. Valdez
Khalina Myers
[/div]
[div class="subheader"]Partners[/div] [div class="textContent"] Aamon & Aaralynn
Caspian & Faith
Khalina & Alekzandra
[/div]
[/div]
[div class="screen firstPage"]
[div class=topBar] [div class=barText]SAFETY DIVISION 9[/div] [/div]
[div class="worldImage"][/div]
[div class=memberText]KMPD ARCHIVE[/div]
[input class=inputText type=button]ACCESS[/input]
[div class="credits"]Code by Lexielai[/div]
[/div][/div]
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Last edited:
Aamon
Hell0NHighWater
Queen of Hell
[div class=fyuriwrapper]
Rank: Detective
Blood Type: O-
Handler: Aaralynn Ling Yang Wei
[/div][div class=header] Stats[/div]
Age: 29
Race: Moroi
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Rust brown
Height: 6'0"
Extra: Has a lot of tattoos, namely an occult symbol on the side of his neck and has both ears pierced. He also paints his nails blacklike the emo little shit he is.
[/div]
[div class=header2] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]Describing Aamon would be like trying to describe sound to the deaf and sight to the blind. It's difficult, complex, and somehow still just beyond the grasp of human understanding. He can be abrasive and cocky with the tendency to bend the truth in whichever way suits him. Aamon can be a loose cannon or quite the docile charge depending on his mood. It is that unpredictability that makes him a very dangerous yet very important asset. Despite his moody and often pessimistic outlook on life, it is clear that he genuinely cares about doing what is right whether he admits to it or not. There is no doubt that he possesses a strong sense of justice, only his methods can some times be a bit extreme. His motivations are often driven by tangible pleasures and many suspect that he became a detective because he had no other choice. [/div]
[div class=header3]"When you wear a mask for so long, you forget who you were beneath it."[/div][div class=text]Regardless of the less noble aspects to his character, his keen intellect and persistent nature make him a very good at his job. He is a hardened smoker, almost always seen a cigarette. Although he rarely acknowledges it, Aamon has very little patience. He becomes a walking contradiction more often than not. He never seems to outwardly act to protect anyone, unless it interests, so he often has to be persuaded to commit himself to a hunt he considers only a little exciting. He has a rather sharp and cynical sense of humor that usually don't make him many friends despite how charming he is capable of being. When he pursues a suspect, he throws himself headfirst into action, regardless of damage caused to people and buildings, and doesn't have the slightest moral scruples of having to kill another Moroi. [/div]
[div class=header2] Backstory[/div][div class=text]
He can't recall anything of the past twenty years of his life. He joined Division 9 in its infancy, has solved countless cases and has had many different handlers over the years. However, the missing memories of almost his entire life happens to be one of the few cases he can't seem to solve. [/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]
[class=fyuriwrapper] max-width:950px; margin:auto; color:#000; font-family:'Raleway', Verdana; [/class] [class=left] background:#fff; max-width: 350px; margin-right: 10px; [/class] [class=charaimg] text-align:center; font-size: 0; [/class] [class=header] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(76, 8, 8) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(76, 8, 8) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left,rgb(76, 8, 8) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(76, 8, 8) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(76, 8, 8) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); font-family:'Prompt', Verdana; font-size:30px; color:#fff; text-align:center; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=header2] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(76, 8, 8) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(76, 8, 8) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(76, 8, 8) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(76, 8, 8) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(76, 8, 8) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); font-family:'Prompt', Verdana; font-size:30px; color:#fff; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=header3] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(76, 8, 8) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(76, 8, 8) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(76, 8, 8) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(76, 8, 8) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(76, 8, 8) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); font-size:20px; color:#fff; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=text] padding:10px; box-sizing:border-box; text-align:justify; [/class] [class=fyuricredit] max-width:950px; margin:auto; opacity:0.5; font-size:10px; [/class]
[div class=left][div class=charaimg]
[div class=header] Identification[/div][div class=text]Division: NineRank: Detective
Blood Type: O-
Handler: Aaralynn Ling Yang Wei
[/div][div class=header] Stats[/div]
Strength
Dexterity
Constitution
Intelligence
Charisma
[div class=header] Skills[/div]Dexterity
Constitution
Intelligence
Charisma
Pain Tolerance
Hand-to-Hand
Stealth
Ranged Weaponry
Lock Picking
Lying
[div class=header]Theme Music[/div] [/div]Hand-to-Hand
Stealth
Ranged Weaponry
Lock Picking
Lying
[div class=header2] Aamon Buchanan
[div class=text] Birth Name: Age: 29
Race: Moroi
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Hair Color: Black
Eye Color: Rust brown
Height: 6'0"
Extra: Has a lot of tattoos, namely an occult symbol on the side of his neck and has both ears pierced. He also paints his nails black
[/div]
[div class=header2] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]Describing Aamon would be like trying to describe sound to the deaf and sight to the blind. It's difficult, complex, and somehow still just beyond the grasp of human understanding. He can be abrasive and cocky with the tendency to bend the truth in whichever way suits him. Aamon can be a loose cannon or quite the docile charge depending on his mood. It is that unpredictability that makes him a very dangerous yet very important asset. Despite his moody and often pessimistic outlook on life, it is clear that he genuinely cares about doing what is right whether he admits to it or not. There is no doubt that he possesses a strong sense of justice, only his methods can some times be a bit extreme. His motivations are often driven by tangible pleasures and many suspect that he became a detective because he had no other choice. [/div]
[div class=header3]"When you wear a mask for so long, you forget who you were beneath it."[/div][div class=text]Regardless of the less noble aspects to his character, his keen intellect and persistent nature make him a very good at his job. He is a hardened smoker, almost always seen a cigarette. Although he rarely acknowledges it, Aamon has very little patience. He becomes a walking contradiction more often than not. He never seems to outwardly act to protect anyone, unless it interests, so he often has to be persuaded to commit himself to a hunt he considers only a little exciting. He has a rather sharp and cynical sense of humor that usually don't make him many friends despite how charming he is capable of being. When he pursues a suspect, he throws himself headfirst into action, regardless of damage caused to people and buildings, and doesn't have the slightest moral scruples of having to kill another Moroi. [/div]
[div class=header2] Backstory[/div][div class=text]
He can't recall anything of the past twenty years of his life. He joined Division 9 in its infancy, has solved countless cases and has had many different handlers over the years. However, the missing memories of almost his entire life happens to be one of the few cases he can't seem to solve. [/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]
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Last edited:
Phayne
[▬▬(ஜ۩۞۩ஜ)▬▬]
[div class=fyuriwrapper][div class=header] Identification[/div][div class=text]Division: 9
Rank: Detective
Blood Type: AB+
Handler / Charge:
[/div][div class=header] Stats[/div]
Strength
Dexterity
Constitution
Intelligence
Wisdom
Charisma
[div class=header] Skills[/div]
Close Combat
Weapon Proficiency
Silver Tongue
Keen Eye
Trickster
Pain Tolerence
[div class=header] Theme Music[/div][/div]
Age: 23
Race: Moroi
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Height: 5'10
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Naturally Black but Dyed White
Extra: Various tattoo's and owns a Skull emblazoned staff (As seen in image's 2 & 3)
[/div]
[div class=header2] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]
Possessing a 'devil-may-care' attitude to life and a wild recklessness nurtured through his time prior to becoming a detective, Caspian is unafraid to gamble and take a risk. He is confident in his abilities and thus jumps into the fray recklessly despite there being a safer albeit longer alternative to tackling the situation, This reckless nature of his is not only limited towards his duty as a detective but also shows itself through his daily life, i.e. barging into a fight he had no involvement in just because he can or expressing his feelings towards another despite the situation being unfavourable for him. He is unaffected by rejection, a heart of steal forged through the countless rejections he has experienced.
Despite harbouring feelings towards a specific woman, those feelings of longing do not stop Caspian from going beyond the limitations of 'flirting' with other women, though choosing to do so more for his own amusement. Whilst willing to push the boundaries with what he can get away with, Caspian would never take that 'final' step forward, not unless he truly harboured feelings for that person.
He doesn't find it too difficult to make new friends, however he isn't going to over exert himself to befriend someone whose personality clashes with his. If overtime, those clashing personalities do relent and they can come to an understanding, he is more then willing to let bygones be bygones. He would prefer to have more friends than enemies thus he tries his best at finding a common ground between himself and another and use that as a foundation to grow the relationship. Should a falling out occur and Caspian strongly feels that he is in the right, he can hold a grudge for several days and give the cold shoulder but will usually crumble afterwards and apologise for being an idiot.
A negative habit of his is that, Caspian tends to play the facade that everything is okay, putting on a happy and friendly appearance when in public yet in reality he could be feeling quite the opposite, in this regard he could best be described as a coin; having two completely different sides to himself. For the most part he likes to play the fool, make jokes, be the butt of jokes and even tease the girl he fancies. While he is the type who would keep your secret to the grave and have your back in a life or death situation, he is also the type who would sell you out for a quick joke and a few laughs. Gregarious by nature, a trait he most likely inherited from his parents, Caspian relishes being in a high-spirited social gathering.
The fact that he has to wear a 'mask' and play the facade also means that he is the type who keeps his negative feelings bottled up. Not really one to talk to others about his problems, he lets the negative emotions fester and swell within himself, thus he will sometimes explode and be overly angry about the smallest of matters. During these situations of frustration and stress, he tends to seclude himself from the outside world, choosing to drown himself in loud music so as to ignore everyone else, or simply isolating himself from others.
Whilst it may come across to the general public that Caspian embraces his existence as a Moroi, the very few closest to him are often aware that this is just another mask that he portrays to the world. Secretly when not required to play the facade that everything is all right, Caspian struggles with the inner turmoil that his existence carries with it. More reclusive and subdued without this disguise on, Caspian struggles with the idea of feasting on human blood. Having once been on the precipice of devouring a human soul, Caspian feels a level of shame around others; knowing that he was on the verge of discarding his 'humanity' so easily whilst succumbing to his own weakness. He see's himself as an insult and a blight compared to the purity of others around him; men and women who were not tainted by the cold grasp of darkness that almost snuffed him once. Afraid of death and afraid of losing himself to his inner instincts, its a daily battle of attrition for Caspian.[/div]
[div class=header2] Backstory[/div][div class=text]
[class=fyuriwrapper] max-width:950px; margin:auto; color:#000; font-family:'Raleway', Verdana; [/class] [class=left] background:#fff; max-width: 350px; margin-right: 10px; [/class] [class=charaimg] text-align:center; font-size: 0; [/class] [class=header] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(246, 10, 10) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(246, 10, 10) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(246, 10, 10) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(246, 10, 10) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(246, 10, 10) 100%); font-family:'Prompt', Verdana; font-size:30px; color:#fff; text-align:center; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=header2] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(246, 10, 10) 0%, rgb(0, 0, 0) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(246, 10, 10) 0%, rgb(0, 0, 0) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(246, 10, 10) 0%, rgb(0, 0, 0) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(246, 10, 10) 0%, rgb(0, 0, 0) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(246, 10, 10) 0%, rgb(0, 0, 0) 100%); font-family:'Prompt', Verdana; font-size:30px; color:#fff; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=text] padding:10px; box-sizing:border-box; text-align:justify; [/class] [class=fyuricredit] max-width:950px; margin:auto; opacity:0.5; font-size:10px; [/class]
Rank: Detective
Blood Type: AB+
Handler / Charge:
[/div][div class=header] Stats[/div]
Strength
Dexterity
Constitution
Intelligence
Wisdom
Charisma
[div class=header] Skills[/div]
Close Combat
Weapon Proficiency
Silver Tongue
Keen Eye
Trickster
Pain Tolerence
[div class=header] Theme Music[/div][/div]
[div class=header2] Caspian J. Valdez
[div class=text]
Race: Moroi
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Height: 5'10
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Naturally Black but Dyed White
Extra: Various tattoo's and owns a Skull emblazoned staff (As seen in image's 2 & 3)
[/div]
[div class=header2] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]
Possessing a 'devil-may-care' attitude to life and a wild recklessness nurtured through his time prior to becoming a detective, Caspian is unafraid to gamble and take a risk. He is confident in his abilities and thus jumps into the fray recklessly despite there being a safer albeit longer alternative to tackling the situation, This reckless nature of his is not only limited towards his duty as a detective but also shows itself through his daily life, i.e. barging into a fight he had no involvement in just because he can or expressing his feelings towards another despite the situation being unfavourable for him. He is unaffected by rejection, a heart of steal forged through the countless rejections he has experienced.
Despite harbouring feelings towards a specific woman, those feelings of longing do not stop Caspian from going beyond the limitations of 'flirting' with other women, though choosing to do so more for his own amusement. Whilst willing to push the boundaries with what he can get away with, Caspian would never take that 'final' step forward, not unless he truly harboured feelings for that person.
He doesn't find it too difficult to make new friends, however he isn't going to over exert himself to befriend someone whose personality clashes with his. If overtime, those clashing personalities do relent and they can come to an understanding, he is more then willing to let bygones be bygones. He would prefer to have more friends than enemies thus he tries his best at finding a common ground between himself and another and use that as a foundation to grow the relationship. Should a falling out occur and Caspian strongly feels that he is in the right, he can hold a grudge for several days and give the cold shoulder but will usually crumble afterwards and apologise for being an idiot.
A negative habit of his is that, Caspian tends to play the facade that everything is okay, putting on a happy and friendly appearance when in public yet in reality he could be feeling quite the opposite, in this regard he could best be described as a coin; having two completely different sides to himself. For the most part he likes to play the fool, make jokes, be the butt of jokes and even tease the girl he fancies. While he is the type who would keep your secret to the grave and have your back in a life or death situation, he is also the type who would sell you out for a quick joke and a few laughs. Gregarious by nature, a trait he most likely inherited from his parents, Caspian relishes being in a high-spirited social gathering.
The fact that he has to wear a 'mask' and play the facade also means that he is the type who keeps his negative feelings bottled up. Not really one to talk to others about his problems, he lets the negative emotions fester and swell within himself, thus he will sometimes explode and be overly angry about the smallest of matters. During these situations of frustration and stress, he tends to seclude himself from the outside world, choosing to drown himself in loud music so as to ignore everyone else, or simply isolating himself from others.
Whilst it may come across to the general public that Caspian embraces his existence as a Moroi, the very few closest to him are often aware that this is just another mask that he portrays to the world. Secretly when not required to play the facade that everything is all right, Caspian struggles with the inner turmoil that his existence carries with it. More reclusive and subdued without this disguise on, Caspian struggles with the idea of feasting on human blood. Having once been on the precipice of devouring a human soul, Caspian feels a level of shame around others; knowing that he was on the verge of discarding his 'humanity' so easily whilst succumbing to his own weakness. He see's himself as an insult and a blight compared to the purity of others around him; men and women who were not tainted by the cold grasp of darkness that almost snuffed him once. Afraid of death and afraid of losing himself to his inner instincts, its a daily battle of attrition for Caspian.
[div class=header2] Backstory[/div][div class=text]
Anarchy, one of many political ideals given birth through the rise of discontent, the seed of dissent spreading through the underworld like wild fire as those who rejected the present government chose to take matters into their own hands. These individuals banded together and formed their own 'society', a group which sided with no one but their own, yet sought to capitalise on it in their own right. Having openly criticised and forsaken their government, this band of rebel's; many of which were youths, had turned to crime and thievery to get by. Opportunist in their own right, the vast majority of youths that had banded under the ideology of anarchism had done so for their own selfish reasons. Many using it as an excuse to do as they pleased without the fear of repercussion. Troubled youths, orphans of war and those that simply disagreed with the government all banded together under this lawless movement.
It didn't help that the Government had tried to play down the recent spate of murders. Various news agencies had reported these 'killings' to be nothing more than the work of a deranged serial killer. Whilst at first an effective smokescreen to distract the masses, various websites had begun to post images and videos of reported sightings of strange creatures lurking the streets at night; these websites often created by youths seeking their 15 minutes of fame. Largely the photos and videos posted were doctored hoaxes; people in costumes posing at a fake crime scene; blurred footage of horned demons running down a dark alley, all misdirection that fed off the suspicious circumstances of these deaths. Of course members of this anarchistic movement had used these as fuel for the fire; demanding that the government reveal the truth behind the suspicious murders. Whilst the majority of them did not believe this to be the work of demons and monsters of make belief, they still wanted to know why the government had been so eager to suppress the flow of information regarding as such, they wanted to know what action was being taken and more importantly if it was safe to walk the streets at night.
Caspian was no different to these individuals. A troubled youth; a runaway from home. Caspian had seen this ever growing Anarchistic movement as a means of escape from the hell he had called home. With other youths his age frequently joining this 'society', it was hardly a difficult choice for Caspian to make; the alternative being forced to continue living with his abusive and alcoholic mother; looking at it from another point of view, Caspian walking out on his mother would simply be him following in his fathers footsteps. Having never really been interested in politics or afflicted by the murders, Caspian merely saw this movement as a means to be 'free'. To remove the shackles that bound him to the accursed woman who made every living day at home seem like hell. It wasn't long before Caspian found a place for himself, a group of teenagers around his age who for their own personal reasons had chosen to leave home. Days and nights spent together, a strong familial bond was nurtured among the group of Six, a young red haired lass quickly being established as the groups leader.
Months running 'wild' with a group of teens his age, Caspian had amassed quite a reputation for himself, acting as the second in command for their group of rebels under the leadership of a Woman two years his senior; Rosalia Liz Parker. A fiery red headed vixen, Rosalia had lead their group down a spiralling path of chaos; their activities often criminal in nature and warranting the local authorities to issue warrants for their arrest. Fuelled by their youthful selfishness, an untamed wild side and granted freedom through Anarchy, Rosalia, Caspian and the rest of their motley crew had ventured across several states, often times robbing an unsuspecting bank or gas station to fund their travels or even profiting from the rising chaos in whatever way they could; such as the sale of drugs. Needless to say, the growing hysteria had taken its toll on many of the citizens; those that drew the shorter end of the stick often turning to substance abuse in order to dull their senses to the world around them.
It was only a matter of time before their nefarious ways would land them into trouble; trouble that they simply could not outrun. Luck only lasted for so long and given their string of fortunate events, it came as no surprise that they had reached the end of theirs. A drug deal gone wrong, Rosalia and Caspian had found themselves at the recieving end of an all out sluggerfest of bullets. Both groups; Caspians and the gang they had been dealing with had each accused each other of being rats; the blaring sound of sirens outside their warehouse signalling the end of the line for them.
Bullets rained in every direction as the rival gang decided to open fire; the police responding in kind to the threat imposed upon them as Caspian and his group found themselves stuck in the middle of it all. Unable to flee the scene without risk of being shot in the process they had been cornered by sheer circumstance. Truth be told, the police outside had not been tipped off about their little drug deal, no. Their reason for being here in such force was for a far more monstrous crime. Unknown to anyone but the detectives handling the case; a member of the opposing gang had been identified as a 'Moroi' a dangerous one at that. The man in question had been one of a growing number of 'Moroi' that had been confirmed to have feasted on human blood; the looming danger that he'd strike again a risk that detectives could not overlook.
One by one the members of the rival gang would fall to the superior firepower of the police force; the scent of their blood beginning to draw the Moroi out into the open. Circumstances that the detectives had wanted to avoid, it was inevitable that the Moroi would be drawn out from his shell, the man whose own blood had stained his clothing beginning to physically transform into the monster. A blood curdling scream echoed from within the warehouse, Rosalia unable to control her fears as she witnessed the man undergo his change. A mistake she'd have no time to regret. Drawn to her pained scream the Moroi attacked, his superior speed and power easily allowing him to shorten the distance and restrain Rosalia; knocking aside Caspian and the others as if they were not even there.
It was a few minutes of regaining his composure that Caspian had finally managed to pick himself up, various boxes that had been stacked earlier having fallen upon him as he was thrown aside. Not sure exactly what was happening, Caspian stumbled towards the only sound he could clearly hear; the dying breaths of Rosalia as she remained discarded on the warehouse floor. The sight of her body sprawled on the floor with blood pooling around her had triggered the inner beast that had slumbered deep inside of Caspian; the desires he had reigned in for so long beginning to surface as his body began to shift and change in accordance to the arousal that he was undergoing. Body contorting in pain as he battled with himself to remain in control whilst spittle gathered on the floor as he hunched over gasping for breath. Slowly he began to crawl towards Rosalia, the pungent scent of her blood drawing him closer to her against his better judgement. Caspian was soon put of his misery; the lingering glow of red that had permeated his vision quickly fading into blackness; the soft prick of a needle the last thing he felt.
The serum initially brought to subdue their original target had instead been administered to Caspian; knocking him out in the process. Subdued and restrained, Caspian was brought back to their base of operations; thrust into solitary confinement with nothing but chains around his arm and feet to restrict his movement. Knowledge of Caspian being a Moroi was non-existent thus safety precautions had to be at their highest levels.
.Months spent as a lab rat and a prisoner to his captors, Caspian was in due time filled in on the full story of 'that' night, the resulting consequences of the events as well as the paths laid out before him. The possibility of returning to a 'normal' life no longer available to him. Initially unwilling to make a decision; Caspian had remained in his 4 by 4 cell; mourning Rosalia's passing in silence as well as cursing the hand that life had dealt him.
It wasn't until a year and a half after his capture that Caspian had finally agreed to work for Division 9; the closest thing he could attain to ever returning to the outside world.
[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]It didn't help that the Government had tried to play down the recent spate of murders. Various news agencies had reported these 'killings' to be nothing more than the work of a deranged serial killer. Whilst at first an effective smokescreen to distract the masses, various websites had begun to post images and videos of reported sightings of strange creatures lurking the streets at night; these websites often created by youths seeking their 15 minutes of fame. Largely the photos and videos posted were doctored hoaxes; people in costumes posing at a fake crime scene; blurred footage of horned demons running down a dark alley, all misdirection that fed off the suspicious circumstances of these deaths. Of course members of this anarchistic movement had used these as fuel for the fire; demanding that the government reveal the truth behind the suspicious murders. Whilst the majority of them did not believe this to be the work of demons and monsters of make belief, they still wanted to know why the government had been so eager to suppress the flow of information regarding as such, they wanted to know what action was being taken and more importantly if it was safe to walk the streets at night.
Caspian was no different to these individuals. A troubled youth; a runaway from home. Caspian had seen this ever growing Anarchistic movement as a means of escape from the hell he had called home. With other youths his age frequently joining this 'society', it was hardly a difficult choice for Caspian to make; the alternative being forced to continue living with his abusive and alcoholic mother; looking at it from another point of view, Caspian walking out on his mother would simply be him following in his fathers footsteps. Having never really been interested in politics or afflicted by the murders, Caspian merely saw this movement as a means to be 'free'. To remove the shackles that bound him to the accursed woman who made every living day at home seem like hell. It wasn't long before Caspian found a place for himself, a group of teenagers around his age who for their own personal reasons had chosen to leave home. Days and nights spent together, a strong familial bond was nurtured among the group of Six, a young red haired lass quickly being established as the groups leader.
Months running 'wild' with a group of teens his age, Caspian had amassed quite a reputation for himself, acting as the second in command for their group of rebels under the leadership of a Woman two years his senior; Rosalia Liz Parker. A fiery red headed vixen, Rosalia had lead their group down a spiralling path of chaos; their activities often criminal in nature and warranting the local authorities to issue warrants for their arrest. Fuelled by their youthful selfishness, an untamed wild side and granted freedom through Anarchy, Rosalia, Caspian and the rest of their motley crew had ventured across several states, often times robbing an unsuspecting bank or gas station to fund their travels or even profiting from the rising chaos in whatever way they could; such as the sale of drugs. Needless to say, the growing hysteria had taken its toll on many of the citizens; those that drew the shorter end of the stick often turning to substance abuse in order to dull their senses to the world around them.
It was only a matter of time before their nefarious ways would land them into trouble; trouble that they simply could not outrun. Luck only lasted for so long and given their string of fortunate events, it came as no surprise that they had reached the end of theirs. A drug deal gone wrong, Rosalia and Caspian had found themselves at the recieving end of an all out sluggerfest of bullets. Both groups; Caspians and the gang they had been dealing with had each accused each other of being rats; the blaring sound of sirens outside their warehouse signalling the end of the line for them.
Bullets rained in every direction as the rival gang decided to open fire; the police responding in kind to the threat imposed upon them as Caspian and his group found themselves stuck in the middle of it all. Unable to flee the scene without risk of being shot in the process they had been cornered by sheer circumstance. Truth be told, the police outside had not been tipped off about their little drug deal, no. Their reason for being here in such force was for a far more monstrous crime. Unknown to anyone but the detectives handling the case; a member of the opposing gang had been identified as a 'Moroi' a dangerous one at that. The man in question had been one of a growing number of 'Moroi' that had been confirmed to have feasted on human blood; the looming danger that he'd strike again a risk that detectives could not overlook.
One by one the members of the rival gang would fall to the superior firepower of the police force; the scent of their blood beginning to draw the Moroi out into the open. Circumstances that the detectives had wanted to avoid, it was inevitable that the Moroi would be drawn out from his shell, the man whose own blood had stained his clothing beginning to physically transform into the monster. A blood curdling scream echoed from within the warehouse, Rosalia unable to control her fears as she witnessed the man undergo his change. A mistake she'd have no time to regret. Drawn to her pained scream the Moroi attacked, his superior speed and power easily allowing him to shorten the distance and restrain Rosalia; knocking aside Caspian and the others as if they were not even there.
It was a few minutes of regaining his composure that Caspian had finally managed to pick himself up, various boxes that had been stacked earlier having fallen upon him as he was thrown aside. Not sure exactly what was happening, Caspian stumbled towards the only sound he could clearly hear; the dying breaths of Rosalia as she remained discarded on the warehouse floor. The sight of her body sprawled on the floor with blood pooling around her had triggered the inner beast that had slumbered deep inside of Caspian; the desires he had reigned in for so long beginning to surface as his body began to shift and change in accordance to the arousal that he was undergoing. Body contorting in pain as he battled with himself to remain in control whilst spittle gathered on the floor as he hunched over gasping for breath. Slowly he began to crawl towards Rosalia, the pungent scent of her blood drawing him closer to her against his better judgement. Caspian was soon put of his misery; the lingering glow of red that had permeated his vision quickly fading into blackness; the soft prick of a needle the last thing he felt.
The serum initially brought to subdue their original target had instead been administered to Caspian; knocking him out in the process. Subdued and restrained, Caspian was brought back to their base of operations; thrust into solitary confinement with nothing but chains around his arm and feet to restrict his movement. Knowledge of Caspian being a Moroi was non-existent thus safety precautions had to be at their highest levels.
.Months spent as a lab rat and a prisoner to his captors, Caspian was in due time filled in on the full story of 'that' night, the resulting consequences of the events as well as the paths laid out before him. The possibility of returning to a 'normal' life no longer available to him. Initially unwilling to make a decision; Caspian had remained in his 4 by 4 cell; mourning Rosalia's passing in silence as well as cursing the hand that life had dealt him.
It wasn't until a year and a half after his capture that Caspian had finally agreed to work for Division 9; the closest thing he could attain to ever returning to the outside world.
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Caffeine Freak
Two Thousand Club
Age: 22
Gender: Female
Race: Human
Height: 158cm/5'2"
Division: 9
Rank: Corporal
Charge: TBD
Blood Type: O+
Physical description: While Faith is well toned, her slim build prevents her from achieving outright burliness. Her hair, dyed, is never tied up and consequently is pretty chaotic most of the time. She bears no tattoos, and is perhaps slightly less pale than your garden-variety vampire. Her face is lightly freckled, and her hands are typically rife with calluses.
Personality: What Faith lacks in field experience, she makes up for in vigor. She's determined to keep herself at peak physical condition, even if the moroi have the natural advantage, and spends every available opportunity at the shooting range or in the gym, constantly pushing her own abilities. Being corporal suits her just fine, the detectives do their job and she does hers, as she says. Her past has lead to her developing something of a prejudice toward the moroi, but she still manages to maintain a rather tight professional attitude toward her vampiric colleagues. If there's one thing she hates, it's comments about her stature, and she usually has some pretty colorful words for people who belittle her.
Background: Faith was sixteen when her mother died. Bite marks to the neck, massive blood loss, the police had said. Believe it or not, Faith had aspired to join the KMPD long before, but only at that did she really feel what can only be described as the revving of an internal engine. By 20 she had been a KMPD officer for just over a year, yet had already put most of her colleagues to shame. She's been the subject of summary discipline quite a few times, mostly for breaking patrol routes and 'disorderly conduct' involving other officers who were a tad too liberal with their opinions on her height - but otherwise she follows orders to the letter.
Division 9 is new ground for Faith, she's been on long enough to know her colleagues by name, but has yet to take down her first moroi in a case. She hopes that the experience will give her a chance to prove her mettle.
Attributes [/10]:
Strength: 6
Dexterity: 8
Constitution: 7
Intelligence: 5
Charisma: 4
Skills [/100]:
Weapon proficiency: 80
Hand-to-Hand: 75
Stealth: 85
Evade: 80
Medicine: 55
Parkour: 85
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Collidias Rex
Proficient with Plot Armor and Natural Weapons.
[div class=fyuriwrapper]
Rank: Captain
Blood Type: B-
Handler / Charge:
[/div][div class=header] Stats[/div]
Strength
Dexterity
Constitution
Intelligence
Charisma
[div class=header] Skills[/div]
Perception
Empathy
Fighting Dirty
Marksmanship
Sleight of Hand
Composure
[div class=header]Theme Music[/div][/div]
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bisexual
Height: 5'11"
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown
Extra: A small tattoo of a sideways double-chevron just at the corner of her right eye, pointing toward her temple and half-hidden by her hair. A scar from a distinctive bite on her left forearm.[/div][div class=header2] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]
[/div]
[div class=header2]If it hurts for a moment, it's a lesson.
If it hurts for a lifetime, it's experience.
[/div][div class=text]"Eight years ... where on earth have you been?"
"Xosa. Learning."
"Learning? From mercenaries? What could they possibly teach you?"
"The kinds of things you don’t want to hear from your daughter."
[/div]
[div class=header2] Backstory[/div][div class=text]
[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]
[class=fyuriwrapper] max-width:950px; margin:auto; color:#000; font-family:'Raleway', Verdana; [/class] [class=left] background:#fff; max-width: 350px; margin-right: 10px; [/class] [class=charaimg] text-align:center; font-size: 0; [/class] [class=header] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 42, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 22) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 42, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 22) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 42, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 22) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 42, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 22) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(42, 42, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 22) 100%); font-family:'Prompt', Verdana; font-size:30px; color:#fff; text-align:center; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=header2] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 42, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 22) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 42, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 22) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 42, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 22) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 42, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 22) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(42, 42, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 22) 100%); font-family:'Prompt', Verdana; font-size:30px; color:#fff; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=text] padding:10px; box-sizing:border-box; text-align:justify; [/class] [class=fyuricredit] max-width:950px; margin:auto; opacity:0.5; font-size:10px; [/class]
[div class=left][div class=charaimg]
[div class=header] Identification[/div][div class=text]Division: 9
Rank: Captain
Blood Type: B-
Handler / Charge:
[/div][div class=header] Stats[/div]
Strength
Dexterity
Constitution
Intelligence
Charisma
[div class=header] Skills[/div]
Perception
Empathy
Fighting Dirty
Marksmanship
Sleight of Hand
Composure
[div class=header]Theme Music[/div][/div]
[div class=header2] Alekzandra Ebenhardt-Zhurkov
[div class=text]Age: 31Race: Human
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bisexual
Height: 5'11"
Eye Color: Brown
Hair Color: Brown
Extra: A small tattoo of a sideways double-chevron just at the corner of her right eye, pointing toward her temple and half-hidden by her hair. A scar from a distinctive bite on her left forearm.[/div][div class=header2] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]
Zandra is a serious and straightforward operator. She's a professional who keeps her mind on the objective, constantly on the lookout for anything important to her task. Although not necessarily asocial, she's known to be cold and emotionally distant. She holds what seem to be anti-moroi sentiments (which might make her seem like a strange pick for Division 9) but her superiors understand that this sentiment is little more than her usual hardass attitude coupled with a healthy dose of caution.
But that's not entirely the truth - because deep down, she does resent the moroi. While she lived by the creed of accumulating as much skill and experience as possible, it angers her that there are people out there who are stronger, faster, tougher than her by virtue of their 'blood'. Meanwhile, her blood actively limits her courtesy of her cybernetic rejection. One might even call her jealous of the moroi. But of course that's not true. That would be ridiculous.
Her inferiority complex drives her to be better, to be smarter, to be more skilled than those around her. Her upbringing has taught her that knowledge is power, and her time as a mercenary has taught her to learn everything there is to know about every moment. She particularly enjoys cooking and tailoring, and is capable of hunting, basic craftsmanship and first-aid. She likes to feel self-sufficient, capable of tending to her own basic needs. In a world where food is so easily accessible, she's proud of her ability to skin and butcher a deer. She's a trained marksman, and while her performance in hand-to-hand drills are mediocre at best, she excels in real-world situations where fighting dirty is an option.
She won't admit it, but she craves power, whatever she can take. Authority over a moroi might just be what she needs to feel like she has real control over her life.
Zandra's adoptive sister, Katya, is twenty-two now. Though Katya is undeniably a source of pain for Zandra given what happened to her mother, and though Zandra seems to act harshly toward Katya - Zandra keeps a photo of her sister in her wallet, and has an emergency phone which only accepts calls from her number.
Her favourite music genres are classical, acapella and melodic metal. She's very picky about audio quality.
She can't handle spicy foods, and has a sweet tooth - and at least one of her tac-pouches contains a small bag full of sweets. She drinks every single kind of coffee she can get her hands on, and doesn't seem to have a preference. She's only a social drinker now; but during her mercenary years she indulged in every vice under the sun at least once.
Her favourite color is bright yellow, and she consistently tips street performers (even if it's just a little bit).
Her most important possessions are her violin, a photo of her sister that she keeps in her wallet, and her mother's old KMPD badge.
But that's not entirely the truth - because deep down, she does resent the moroi. While she lived by the creed of accumulating as much skill and experience as possible, it angers her that there are people out there who are stronger, faster, tougher than her by virtue of their 'blood'. Meanwhile, her blood actively limits her courtesy of her cybernetic rejection. One might even call her jealous of the moroi. But of course that's not true. That would be ridiculous.
Her inferiority complex drives her to be better, to be smarter, to be more skilled than those around her. Her upbringing has taught her that knowledge is power, and her time as a mercenary has taught her to learn everything there is to know about every moment. She particularly enjoys cooking and tailoring, and is capable of hunting, basic craftsmanship and first-aid. She likes to feel self-sufficient, capable of tending to her own basic needs. In a world where food is so easily accessible, she's proud of her ability to skin and butcher a deer. She's a trained marksman, and while her performance in hand-to-hand drills are mediocre at best, she excels in real-world situations where fighting dirty is an option.
She won't admit it, but she craves power, whatever she can take. Authority over a moroi might just be what she needs to feel like she has real control over her life.
Zandra's adoptive sister, Katya, is twenty-two now. Though Katya is undeniably a source of pain for Zandra given what happened to her mother, and though Zandra seems to act harshly toward Katya - Zandra keeps a photo of her sister in her wallet, and has an emergency phone which only accepts calls from her number.
Her favourite music genres are classical, acapella and melodic metal. She's very picky about audio quality.
She can't handle spicy foods, and has a sweet tooth - and at least one of her tac-pouches contains a small bag full of sweets. She drinks every single kind of coffee she can get her hands on, and doesn't seem to have a preference. She's only a social drinker now; but during her mercenary years she indulged in every vice under the sun at least once.
Her favourite color is bright yellow, and she consistently tips street performers (even if it's just a little bit).
Her most important possessions are her violin, a photo of her sister that she keeps in her wallet, and her mother's old KMPD badge.
[/div]
[div class=header2]If it hurts for a moment, it's a lesson.
If it hurts for a lifetime, it's experience.
[/div][div class=text]"Eight years ... where on earth have you been?"
"Xosa. Learning."
"Learning? From mercenaries? What could they possibly teach you?"
"The kinds of things you don’t want to hear from your daughter."
[/div]
[div class=header2] Backstory[/div][div class=text]
Alekzandra 'Zandra' Eberhardt-Zhurkov is the prodigious child of businessman Leon Eberhardt and 'supercop' Yekaterina Zhurkov - a once-famed agent of the KMPD. Her childhood years knew a quiet life in a wealthy household in Bara, learning classical literature, law and music. This radically changed when she was 10, when her mother fell from grace.
Yekaterina's arms were mangled by a moroi in a gang attack at the height of her popularity. Radical groups attempted to establish her as the face of extremist anti-gang sentiment, but she vehemently refused. She retired from her field work, and went as far as to adopt the now-orphaned child of her attacker in protest, to show she didn't hold any prejudices after her attack. Alekzandra briefly became a media target for these groups, and things only got worse when she beat a journalist with a violin after the man called her mother some nasty names. This collectively did no favors for the family's reputation.
Alekzandra later learned that she had inherited recessive genes from her parents that left her with a particularly finicky immune system, and more importantly - violent Cybernetic Rejection Syndrome. The greatest advances in human research were out of her reach, and she took this hard.
She enlisted in basic training at the age of eighteen to join the KMPD and passed with flying colors, but she disappeared off the grid immediately after. Four years later she resurfaced in Xosa under a fake name, working for a notorious mercenary group no less. Another four years later she returned to Bara where she joined the KMPD, using her talents and familial connections to rise quickly through the ranks and gaining a reputation as a pragmatic hardass - albeit one with a flair for improvisation that was decidedly not by-the-books.
Yekaterina's arms were mangled by a moroi in a gang attack at the height of her popularity. Radical groups attempted to establish her as the face of extremist anti-gang sentiment, but she vehemently refused. She retired from her field work, and went as far as to adopt the now-orphaned child of her attacker in protest, to show she didn't hold any prejudices after her attack. Alekzandra briefly became a media target for these groups, and things only got worse when she beat a journalist with a violin after the man called her mother some nasty names. This collectively did no favors for the family's reputation.
Alekzandra later learned that she had inherited recessive genes from her parents that left her with a particularly finicky immune system, and more importantly - violent Cybernetic Rejection Syndrome. The greatest advances in human research were out of her reach, and she took this hard.
She enlisted in basic training at the age of eighteen to join the KMPD and passed with flying colors, but she disappeared off the grid immediately after. Four years later she resurfaced in Xosa under a fake name, working for a notorious mercenary group no less. Another four years later she returned to Bara where she joined the KMPD, using her talents and familial connections to rise quickly through the ranks and gaining a reputation as a pragmatic hardass - albeit one with a flair for improvisation that was decidedly not by-the-books.
[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]
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Last edited:
Pai Chan
Elder Member
[div class=fyuriwrapper]
Rank: Lieutenant
Blood Type: A-
Handler / Charge: If unknown leave blank for now
[/div][div class=header] Stats[/div]
[/div]
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Hetero
Height: 5' 6"
Eye Color: Ice Blue
Hair Color: Brunette
Extra: Has a fit physique
[/div]
[div class=header2] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]
Cassandra has built up a very good reputation of getting things done. If there's something that needs to happen then she's the officer to come to. But outside of the workforce she doesn't socialize with her coworkers. She's known to be in "officer mode" even off duty and is often told she can't "switch off." As far as anyone knows she doesn't have family or friends. Her personality is devoid of humor and she won't hold back what's on her mind. She is known for being blunt and will talk as such, no matter how delicate a conversation might be. She doesn't watch movies, go to bars, or hang out. Her past times consist of reading, exercise, and taking care of the fish she owns (At the advice of her psychiatrist).[/div]
[div class=header2] Backstory[/div][div class=text]
One thing people could all agree on is that Cass was a no-nonsense girl since she was young. Most blame her strict parents. They were always pushing her to her limits. Some people felt bad for her, others were jealous. After all, with hard work comes achievements. Top of her teams in whatever sports played, Top of her class in grades, Valedictorian of her college, and was called a prodigy at the five instruments she played. Her father is top brass at the KMPD in Sector 2 and her mother was a lawyer.
Cassandra was very respectful of her parents and looked up to her father most of all. It wasn't a surprise that she went into a police academy fresh out of college. During her time she became a successful officer and would be dispatched to many missions both classified and public. Cassandra became a decorated member and was known for her quick wit and effectiveness out in the field. She climbed the ladder until she reached Lieutenant and got a good deal to transfer to the KMPD and into Division 9. She took the transfer due to her mother passing away due to natural causes. The event caused Cassandra to become unstable. Her work became sloppy and her father could easily see something was wrong. It wasn't until Cassandra stepped foot in Bara that she realized it was her father that initiated the transfer. She quietly thanked him because he always knew what was best for his daughter.
Cassandra knew of moroi and even had several missions as an agent to dispatch them. Her first instinct, when spotting a moroi, is to shoot on sight. She thinks of them as less than humane. Their bloodlust behavior only solidifies her opinion.
[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]
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[div class=left][div class=charaimg]
[div class=header] Identification[/div][div class=text]Division: 9
Rank: Lieutenant
Blood Type: A-
Handler / Charge: If unknown leave blank for now
[/div][div class=header] Stats[/div]
Strength
Dexterity
Constitution
Intelligence
Team work
Charisma
[div class=header] Skills[/div]Dexterity
Constitution
Intelligence
Team work
Charisma
Close Combat
Weapon Proficiency
Social
Pain Tolerance
Stealth
Empathy
[div class=header]Theme Music[/div]Weapon Proficiency
Social
Pain Tolerance
Stealth
Empathy
[/div]
[div class=header2] Cassandra Linova
[div class=text]Age: 28Race: Human
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Hetero
Height: 5' 6"
Eye Color: Ice Blue
Hair Color: Brunette
Extra: Has a fit physique
[/div]
[div class=header2] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]
[div class=header2] Backstory[/div][div class=text]
Cassandra was very respectful of her parents and looked up to her father most of all. It wasn't a surprise that she went into a police academy fresh out of college. During her time she became a successful officer and would be dispatched to many missions both classified and public. Cassandra became a decorated member and was known for her quick wit and effectiveness out in the field. She climbed the ladder until she reached Lieutenant and got a good deal to transfer to the KMPD and into Division 9. She took the transfer due to her mother passing away due to natural causes. The event caused Cassandra to become unstable. Her work became sloppy and her father could easily see something was wrong. It wasn't until Cassandra stepped foot in Bara that she realized it was her father that initiated the transfer. She quietly thanked him because he always knew what was best for his daughter.
Cassandra knew of moroi and even had several missions as an agent to dispatch them. Her first instinct, when spotting a moroi, is to shoot on sight. She thinks of them as less than humane. Their bloodlust behavior only solidifies her opinion.
[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]
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Last edited:
Lekiel
Two Thousand Club
[div class=fyuriwrapper]
Rank: Detective
Blood Type: AB -
Handler / Charge: Aamon Buchanan
[/div][div class=header] Stats[/div]
Race: Human
Ethnicity: Eurasian
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Height: 165cm (5 ft 5)
Eye Color: Grey. Turquoise flecks.
Hair Color: Russet Brown
Extra: Has a proverb in her maternal ethnic language tattooed along her spine. Right eye is biotronic, capable of Ultra/Infravision a 50x zoom and dark vision. Changing visual modes too often may cause temporary vertigo.
[/div]
[div class=header2] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]define: Aaralynn Ling
A light-hearted exterior, dusted with alluring wit layered on obstinate naive idealism and driven by a tenacious soul.
Outside of her work, sometimes even during some of her more routine cases, Aaralynn appears as a rather convivial and agreeable individual. Nonetheless, this buoyant exuburence is both a gift as well as a curse. The former of which allows her to be the kindling fireplace of infectious warmth to those around her; lighting up the room with her tinkling laughter, setting a summery mood with her genial mannerisms and enrapturing observers with her precocious curiosity for almost anything under the sun. In the case of the latter, she can sometimes appear apathetic to the personal space of more introverted individuals, oftentimes impressing her presence a little too close for comfort to those around her.
This largely stems from her issue of a rather peculiar way of segmenting her social interactions around her, with stark differences in her mannerisms to those she perceives a threat and those she allows to stand by her side. Single-minded in her purpose to be the top-cop, Aaralynn's raison d'être is not the accolades and material rewards she might've received but rather for the position of authority. A platform as such from which she could impart righteous reforms in an often perceived corrupt system. Ironically, her naivety and 'us-vs-them' attitude means that she may give her team too much credit for their work, when in reality, a more selfish arrogance about her own brilliance may bode for a more formidable law enforcer. Her inherent willingness to so quickly include a colleague into her fold may be the sole blindspot that prevents her from training her magnifying glass closer to home. This coupled with a callow belief that there is good in everyone if only circumstances had dealt them a gentler hand leads to an existence of bitter irony, of which she is blissfully unaware permeates every corner of her life. A tinted glassbox existence that could one day shatter the very foundations of her world into a million excruciating pieces. Perhaps if one were to dig beneath the bottom-most layer, one might find a traumatized child living in continuous denial, terrified of facing the painful truth.
Nevertheless, young Aaralynn Ling Yang Wei appears to be a rising star of Bara's KMPD, with a string of solved cases dotting a spotless career.
Spotless except for one indellible mark which occasionally haunts her dreams.[/div]
[div class=header2]水往下流, 人往上走. . .[/div][div class=text]"Sui wang sia liu, ren wang sia zhou...~"
As the nature of water is to flow downwards, so it is that people should look up to the skies. A proverb taught to a young impressionable Aaralynn by her maternal grandmother. A teaching that holds the very foundations of her beliefs; that mankind should strive with all their heart, no matter the difficulty of the situation, to be the very best that they can be in character and in deeds.[/div]
[div class=header2] Backstory[/div][div class=text]Aaralynn was born Aaralynn Cresthall to a wealthy business conglomerate owner, Robert Cresthall and his wife, Dr. Ling Xin Mei. She was the youngest of two children, with an older brother in the Bara KPMD. With sizable investments not just in the local city of Bara, but also in several industries spanning Vrekta, Robert Cresthall rarely had time for his youngest child. As for Dr. Ling, being employed directly by the Kasnian authorities for various research projects also meant that she was often absent from her daughter's earliest years. She did, however, try to make time whenever she could, though much of Aaralynn's upbringing was by her maternal grandmother.
As for her brother, with an age gap of nearly fifteen years between her and Pierce Cresthall, her adolescent years was often devoid of much interaction with her older sibling who seemed to be making waves when he joined with the police force. As such, it was her grandmother who instilled much of the ideals that Aaralynn holds dear to even to this day. The seeming lack of close interaction with her immediate family members was not seen as a lack of love, but rather as a necessary sacrifice for the good of the family name and unit. Any harsh dealings were quickly learned to be overlooked as after all, the mistakes of a mere child were nothing compared to what the adults had to deal with for the sake of the family. Giving the benefit of the doubt was her way of giving back to the good of them all.
A resolute character, her spirit refused to be dampened for long, even after her grandmother's passing. Aaralynn carried herself with an infallible precociousness that eased her into a life of disciplined independence which carried her in top form all the way through school. Inspired by her brother and driven by the desire to act upon the values she was instilled with, Aaralynn joined the police force as soon as she graduated from school. Unsurprisingly, her aptitude and ingenuity quickly distinguished herself above the ordinary flock of law enforcement officers.
Tragically, her strength of character would be tested twice over. Firstly, was when her father and brother was found to be colluding a corrupt business empire by the increasingly strict Flynn Whitman administration. A crackdown that caused the death of her brother during a violent shootout with officials, one which Aaralynn was unknowingly part of though she was but a junior officer. It was during this period that she lost her right eye due to shrapnel that narrowly missed striking her brain. Nonetheless, the repercussions from that time still visit her in the occasional splitting headaches that a quick medication would suppress. Disheartened by her family's fall from grace, she reluctantly changed her name on advice from her mother, taking up her maiden name as her own. Though she was under no illusion that her father and brother was innocent, she nonetheless still believes that they only acted in the best interests for the family that they cared for, in the only way circumstances taught them how. If anything the incident renewed her resolve to one day reach a position where she could influence society to a more nurturing environment that values positive growth. And she would start by being a positive example to her colleagues around her, diligently cleansing the stains of deceit in the society of the outside world. Us against them, for the good of all.
The second test of her resolve was the death of her mother. Though it was closed as a burglary gone wrong, Aaralynn could never shake the feeling that there might be more to the mystery than as it appears. She'd known that her mother was once employed under the Hybrid Project, but resigned due to management issues. Dr. Ling later found an employment contract with a privately funded laboratory with research interests in the Moroi and bioidentical synthetic compounds, where she would one day be robbed in the parking lot and left for dead. Just a scientist at the wrong place and wrong time... that was pretty much all she knew. The loss of her mother was perhaps the hardest blow of all, but by then, she'd already believed in something greater than herself to stay down for too long.
Recently transferred over to Division 9.[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]
[class=fyuriwrapper] max-width:950px; margin:auto; color:#000; font-family:'Raleway', Verdana; [/class] [class=left] background:#ffeccc; max-width: 350px; margin-right: 10px; [/class] [class=charaimg] text-align:center; font-size: 0; [/class] [class=header] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); font-family:'Megrim', Verdana; font-weight:800; font-size:30px; color:#fff; text-align:center; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=header2] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right,rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); font-family:'Megrim', Verdana; font-weight:800; font-size:30px; color:#fff; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=text] padding:10px; box-sizing:border-box; text-align:justify; [/class] [class=fyuricredit] max-width:950px; margin:auto; opacity:0.5; font-size:10px; [/class]
[div class=left][div class=charaimg]
[div class=header] Identification[/div][div class=text]Division: NineRank: Detective
Blood Type: AB -
Handler / Charge: Aamon Buchanan
[/div][div class=header] Stats[/div]
Strength
Dexterity
Constitution
Intelligence
Humour
Charisma
[div class=header] Skills[/div]Dexterity
Constitution
Intelligence
Humour
Charisma
Perceptivity
Hand to Hand
Marksmanship
Cognition
Pain Tolerance
Diplomacy
[div class=header]Theme Music[/div][/div]Hand to Hand
Marksmanship
Cognition
Pain Tolerance
Diplomacy
[div class=header2] Aaralynn Ling Yang Wei
[div class=text]Age: 27Race: Human
Ethnicity: Eurasian
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Height: 165cm (5 ft 5)
Eye Color: Grey. Turquoise flecks.
Hair Color: Russet Brown
Extra: Has a proverb in her maternal ethnic language tattooed along her spine. Right eye is biotronic, capable of Ultra/Infravision a 50x zoom and dark vision. Changing visual modes too often may cause temporary vertigo.
[/div]
[div class=header2] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]define: Aaralynn Ling
A light-hearted exterior, dusted with alluring wit layered on obstinate naive idealism and driven by a tenacious soul.
Outside of her work, sometimes even during some of her more routine cases, Aaralynn appears as a rather convivial and agreeable individual. Nonetheless, this buoyant exuburence is both a gift as well as a curse. The former of which allows her to be the kindling fireplace of infectious warmth to those around her; lighting up the room with her tinkling laughter, setting a summery mood with her genial mannerisms and enrapturing observers with her precocious curiosity for almost anything under the sun. In the case of the latter, she can sometimes appear apathetic to the personal space of more introverted individuals, oftentimes impressing her presence a little too close for comfort to those around her.
This largely stems from her issue of a rather peculiar way of segmenting her social interactions around her, with stark differences in her mannerisms to those she perceives a threat and those she allows to stand by her side. Single-minded in her purpose to be the top-cop, Aaralynn's raison d'être is not the accolades and material rewards she might've received but rather for the position of authority. A platform as such from which she could impart righteous reforms in an often perceived corrupt system. Ironically, her naivety and 'us-vs-them' attitude means that she may give her team too much credit for their work, when in reality, a more selfish arrogance about her own brilliance may bode for a more formidable law enforcer. Her inherent willingness to so quickly include a colleague into her fold may be the sole blindspot that prevents her from training her magnifying glass closer to home. This coupled with a callow belief that there is good in everyone if only circumstances had dealt them a gentler hand leads to an existence of bitter irony, of which she is blissfully unaware permeates every corner of her life. A tinted glassbox existence that could one day shatter the very foundations of her world into a million excruciating pieces. Perhaps if one were to dig beneath the bottom-most layer, one might find a traumatized child living in continuous denial, terrified of facing the painful truth.
Nevertheless, young Aaralynn Ling Yang Wei appears to be a rising star of Bara's KMPD, with a string of solved cases dotting a spotless career.
Spotless except for one indellible mark which occasionally haunts her dreams.[/div]
[div class=header2]水往下流, 人往上走. . .[/div][div class=text]"Sui wang sia liu, ren wang sia zhou...~"
As the nature of water is to flow downwards, so it is that people should look up to the skies. A proverb taught to a young impressionable Aaralynn by her maternal grandmother. A teaching that holds the very foundations of her beliefs; that mankind should strive with all their heart, no matter the difficulty of the situation, to be the very best that they can be in character and in deeds.[/div]
[div class=header2] Backstory[/div][div class=text]Aaralynn was born Aaralynn Cresthall to a wealthy business conglomerate owner, Robert Cresthall and his wife, Dr. Ling Xin Mei. She was the youngest of two children, with an older brother in the Bara KPMD. With sizable investments not just in the local city of Bara, but also in several industries spanning Vrekta, Robert Cresthall rarely had time for his youngest child. As for Dr. Ling, being employed directly by the Kasnian authorities for various research projects also meant that she was often absent from her daughter's earliest years. She did, however, try to make time whenever she could, though much of Aaralynn's upbringing was by her maternal grandmother.
As for her brother, with an age gap of nearly fifteen years between her and Pierce Cresthall, her adolescent years was often devoid of much interaction with her older sibling who seemed to be making waves when he joined with the police force. As such, it was her grandmother who instilled much of the ideals that Aaralynn holds dear to even to this day. The seeming lack of close interaction with her immediate family members was not seen as a lack of love, but rather as a necessary sacrifice for the good of the family name and unit. Any harsh dealings were quickly learned to be overlooked as after all, the mistakes of a mere child were nothing compared to what the adults had to deal with for the sake of the family. Giving the benefit of the doubt was her way of giving back to the good of them all.
A resolute character, her spirit refused to be dampened for long, even after her grandmother's passing. Aaralynn carried herself with an infallible precociousness that eased her into a life of disciplined independence which carried her in top form all the way through school. Inspired by her brother and driven by the desire to act upon the values she was instilled with, Aaralynn joined the police force as soon as she graduated from school. Unsurprisingly, her aptitude and ingenuity quickly distinguished herself above the ordinary flock of law enforcement officers.
Tragically, her strength of character would be tested twice over. Firstly, was when her father and brother was found to be colluding a corrupt business empire by the increasingly strict Flynn Whitman administration. A crackdown that caused the death of her brother during a violent shootout with officials, one which Aaralynn was unknowingly part of though she was but a junior officer. It was during this period that she lost her right eye due to shrapnel that narrowly missed striking her brain. Nonetheless, the repercussions from that time still visit her in the occasional splitting headaches that a quick medication would suppress. Disheartened by her family's fall from grace, she reluctantly changed her name on advice from her mother, taking up her maiden name as her own. Though she was under no illusion that her father and brother was innocent, she nonetheless still believes that they only acted in the best interests for the family that they cared for, in the only way circumstances taught them how. If anything the incident renewed her resolve to one day reach a position where she could influence society to a more nurturing environment that values positive growth. And she would start by being a positive example to her colleagues around her, diligently cleansing the stains of deceit in the society of the outside world. Us against them, for the good of all.
The second test of her resolve was the death of her mother. Though it was closed as a burglary gone wrong, Aaralynn could never shake the feeling that there might be more to the mystery than as it appears. She'd known that her mother was once employed under the Hybrid Project, but resigned due to management issues. Dr. Ling later found an employment contract with a privately funded laboratory with research interests in the Moroi and bioidentical synthetic compounds, where she would one day be robbed in the parking lot and left for dead. Just a scientist at the wrong place and wrong time... that was pretty much all she knew. The loss of her mother was perhaps the hardest blow of all, but by then, she'd already believed in something greater than herself to stay down for too long.
Recently transferred over to Division 9.[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]
[class=fyuriwrapper] max-width:950px; margin:auto; color:#000; font-family:'Raleway', Verdana; [/class] [class=left] background:#ffeccc; max-width: 350px; margin-right: 10px; [/class] [class=charaimg] text-align:center; font-size: 0; [/class] [class=header] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); font-family:'Megrim', Verdana; font-weight:800; font-size:30px; color:#fff; text-align:center; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=header2] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right,rgb(42, 14, 12) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); font-family:'Megrim', Verdana; font-weight:800; font-size:30px; color:#fff; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=text] padding:10px; box-sizing:border-box; text-align:justify; [/class] [class=fyuricredit] max-width:950px; margin:auto; opacity:0.5; font-size:10px; [/class]
Last edited:
geode x
♡
[div class=fyuriwrapper]
Rank: Detective
Blood Type: B
Handler / Charge: Alekzandra Ebenhardt-Zhurkov
[/div][div class=header] Stats[/div]
Strength
Dexterity
Constitution
Intelligence
Wisdom
Charisma
[div class=header] Skills[/div]
Manipulation
Charm
Presence
Speech
Small Arms Usage
Speed
[div class=header]Theme Music[/div][/div]
Race: Moroi
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bisexual
Height: 5'7" / 170.18cm
Eye Color: Dark Brown/Black
Hair Color: Dark Brown/Black
Extra: Sets of ring-like tattoos on both hands
[/div]
[div class=header2] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]
[div class=header2]“A girl should be two things: classy and fabulous.”[/div][div class=text] Khalina is fashionable and materialistic, smells of expensive perfume and decked out in the latest trends she's always looking to make a statement with her appearance. Her beauty is a weapon, she keeps a cool head and calm demeanor with a clever attitude and remains purposefully ambiguous in regards to her motives and goals. [/div]
[div class=header2] Backstory[/div][div class=text]
[class=fyuriwrapper] max-width:950px; margin:auto; color:#000; font-family:'Raleway', Verdana; [/class] [class=left] background:#A381AC ; max-width: 350px; margin-right: 10px; [/class] [class=charaimg] text-align:center; font-size: 0; [/class] [class=header] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); font-family:'Prompt', Verdana; font-size:30px; color:#A381AC ; text-align:center; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=header2] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); font-family:'Prompt', Verdana; font-size:30px; color:#A381AC ; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=text] padding:10px; box-sizing:border-box; text-align:justify; [/class] [class=fyuricredit] max-width:950px; margin:auto; opacity:0.5; font-size:10px; [/class]
[div class=left][div class=charaimg]
View attachment 581389
[div class=header] Identification[/div][div class=text]Division: 9View attachment 581389Rank: Detective
Blood Type: B
Handler / Charge: Alekzandra Ebenhardt-Zhurkov
[/div][div class=header] Stats[/div]
Strength
Dexterity
Constitution
Intelligence
Wisdom
Charisma
[div class=header] Skills[/div]
Manipulation
Charm
Presence
Speech
Small Arms Usage
Speed
[div class=header]Theme Music[/div][/div]
[div class=header2]Khalina Myers
[div class=text]Age: 25Race: Moroi
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bisexual
Height: 5'7" / 170.18cm
Eye Color: Dark Brown/Black
Hair Color: Dark Brown/Black
Extra: Sets of ring-like tattoos on both hands
[/div]
[div class=header2] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]
Khalina is a modern socialite or a nosy busy body depending on who you ask. She always has the latest news and gossip about current happenings and knows a little too much about certain people. What she lacks in physical strength and prowess she more than makes up for in intelligence, specifically emotional intelligence. She is a master manipulator and can get information she needs out of just about anyone, having a great eye for people and knows who to avoid at all costs and who she can bend to her whim. A flirtatious sort she wants people to hang on to her every word, drawing people in with her soft mannerisms and seductive charms, a sensual and sensitive type. She loves cavorting with others and getting involved with petty affairs that have nothing to do with her, especially when it comes to humans. Being a Moroi has always been a source of pride for Khalina, she likes the power she has, the fear she strikes in others, and the curiosity her existence brings. She's never lost herself in the bloodlust but has witnessed what it can do to her kind, the savagery, the power, the rage, her potential both frightens and draws her in. She has an immense curiosity about her kind; where they come from, who they were, and why they are the way they are. Whether she admits it or not she unconsciously believes the Moroi are better than human beings, however, she believes a peaceful coexistence is better than all out war.
[/div][div class=header2]“A girl should be two things: classy and fabulous.”[/div][div class=text] Khalina is fashionable and materialistic, smells of expensive perfume and decked out in the latest trends she's always looking to make a statement with her appearance. Her beauty is a weapon, she keeps a cool head and calm demeanor with a clever attitude and remains purposefully ambiguous in regards to her motives and goals. [/div]
[div class=header2] Backstory[/div][div class=text]
Like most Moroi her parents died when she was relatively young and instead of being adopted into a human family like a lot of her Moroi peers she ran away from it all and lived in the underworld of Xosa, surviving on charity, theft, and a small community of Moroi who helped raise her. When the murders started all sorts of rumors flew among her band about a Moroi uprising and how they would finally be able to live free from shadow of humanity. No longer needing to hide in plain sight. That is until one of their own was killed, her friend at the time Sienna. Sienna was Khalina's closest friend and confident, they grew up together and had a unshakable bond, they considered each other family and talked about their big dreams of escaping this life and traveling all over Kasnia. The news absolutely destroyed her, anger, grief, sadness, she went through it all over and over and felt like she couldn't go on living. She became obsessed with the the murders, she needed to know why, how, when, but with the news censoring the facts of the case and the general public foolishly believing a single person was behind it things were difficult. Eventually she left her group and decided to join Division 9 in an effort to really get to the bottom of the murder of her dear friend and discover the secrets of the Moroi.
[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div][class=fyuriwrapper] max-width:950px; margin:auto; color:#000; font-family:'Raleway', Verdana; [/class] [class=left] background:#A381AC ; max-width: 350px; margin-right: 10px; [/class] [class=charaimg] text-align:center; font-size: 0; [/class] [class=header] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); font-family:'Prompt', Verdana; font-size:30px; color:#A381AC ; text-align:center; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=header2] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(12, 18, 42) 0%, rgb(136, 103, 122) 100%); font-family:'Prompt', Verdana; font-size:30px; color:#A381AC ; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=text] padding:10px; box-sizing:border-box; text-align:justify; [/class] [class=fyuricredit] max-width:950px; margin:auto; opacity:0.5; font-size:10px; [/class]
Last edited:
Crazy Trey-n
lickety-split
[div class=fyuriwrapper]
Rank: Consultant / Specialist
Blood Type: O-
Handler / Charge: N/A
[/div][div class=header] Stats[/div]
Race: Half-Breed
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Seemingly N/A
Height: 192cm / 6'3"
Eye Color: Pale Blue
Hair Color: White, dyed black to conceal his true nature.
Extra: Beneath his stoic demeanor and the dark clothing that typically accompanies it, Marcin hides a body marred with scars afflicted by moroi, human weaponry and a few by the various surgical tools he'd been subjected to some time in his past.
[/div]
[div class=header2] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]
[div class=header2] Amor Fati[/div][div class=text]"Did you know that madness, not unlike beauty, is in the eye of the beholder?"
The young moroi that Marcin had spoken to seemed unimpressed and nearly dismissive of his words. "Trying to converse with a bloodlustful moroi is foolish. You should just kill me and finish this already sloppy job."
"If I had that mentality when I'd first laid eyes on you, then you'd be dead already." The other man still seemed unconvinced. Marcin decided to offer him a few more of his vocalized thoughts, leaving the battered moroi that had been his target in a crumpled, bloody mess. Perhaps it would change the boy's life and philosophy. Perhaps not. Marcin would find him again if it didn't.
"The blossom is brother to the weed. No one should be condemned simply for being different, so I will stand up for the rights of all... and so should you, else the darkness of our own kind consume us."[/div]
[div class=header2] Backstory[/div][div class=text]Very little is known of the half-breed's past. Marcin is known to be honest and straightforward, but the only time that he blatantly lies is when it comes to what his life was before joining the Division, pulling most of the stories he weaves as simple jests. So far the tales add up to being the son of a moroi overlord who has planted him within society to see the uprising of his people, seducing a government agent and manipulating his way out of containment, and participating in an underground half-breed gladiator match for his freedom and winning.
One thing is certain: Marcin has been with the Division since it's very first days and has close ties with Flynn Whitman, who has sent him to accompany this newly-assembled team. Most of his work has been solo in the quest to solve the case of the murders, but he looks forward to helping them get to the source of the killings once and for all.[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]
[class=fyuriwrapper] max-width:950px; margin:auto; color:#000; font-family:'Raleway', Verdana; [/class] [class=left] background:#fff; max-width: 350px; margin-right: 10px; [/class] [class=charaimg] text-align:center; font-size: 0; [/class] [class=header] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); font-family:'Prompt', Verdana; font-size:30px; color:#fff; text-align:center; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=header2] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); font-family:'Prompt', Verdana; font-size:30px; color:#fff; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=text] padding:10px; box-sizing:border-box; text-align:justify; [/class] [class=fyuricredit] max-width:950px; margin:auto; opacity:0.5; font-size:10px; [/class]
[div class=left][div class=charaimg]
[div class=header] Identification[/div][div class=text]Division: 9, but directly loyal to Flynn Whitman.Rank: Consultant / Specialist
Blood Type: O-
Handler / Charge: N/A
[/div][div class=header] Stats[/div]
Strength
Dexterity
Constitution
Intelligence
Willpower
Charisma
[div class=header] Skills[/div]Dexterity
Constitution
Intelligence
Willpower
Charisma
Stealth
Perception
Knowledge
Acrobatics & Athletics
Persuasion
Bladed Weapon Proficiency
[div class=header]Theme Music[/div][/div]Perception
Knowledge
Acrobatics & Athletics
Persuasion
Bladed Weapon Proficiency
[div class=header2] Marcin [Surname Unknown]
[div class=text]Age: 32Race: Half-Breed
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Seemingly N/A
Height: 192cm / 6'3"
Eye Color: Pale Blue
Hair Color: White, dyed black to conceal his true nature.
Extra: Beneath his stoic demeanor and the dark clothing that typically accompanies it, Marcin hides a body marred with scars afflicted by moroi, human weaponry and a few by the various surgical tools he'd been subjected to some time in his past.
[/div]
[div class=header2] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]
Marcin is a calm, collected, quiet individual the majority of the time. His time spent under the employ of Division 9 has honed him into what he is today and whatever he was before, to him, is dead. As a half-breed, he finds himself subjected to certain degrees of various behavior throughout the division, but more often than not the stigma of simply being part morai stains peoples' prejudice towards him, garnering nothing more than hate or at the least a minor disgust. The practice of ignoring these people now comes naturally.
Morality and empathy are not lost upon him, either; Marcin holds a vague, imperceptible 'code' close to his heart. A sense of compassion is there, but overshadowed by the ambition to complete his duties and remain loyal to his overseer. The ideals of a better life for both humans and moroi lay burrowed within his heart, since he's resorted to masking this with a facade of grim forbearance. He is all too aware that being branded as a part of the moroi has detrimental effects on his reputation. The conflict of being both parts of a split society drives him to seclusion most of the time, though strangely enough, the half-breed is very willing to work with others when the rare occasion arises.
Perhaps the most abnormal thing about Marcin is his ability to hinder almost every aspect of his transformations. He can keep himself level-headed and controlled at the sight of blood, choosing to (when he isn't around others and even then very, very rarely) allow the bloodlust to overwhelm him or suppressing it entirely. It allows him to use blades in a fight since his physical limitations without transforming are that of an average human. It is also the only reason that he is allowed to go unchecked without a handler and a driving force for his secret notion of a peace between moroi and humans. If he can control the desire for power and blood, others may be able to as well.
He is also - though rarely - known to have an oddly sarcastic sense of humor and loves all foods with a passion.
There are infrequent cases when Marcin's mind 'breaks' and he falls into fits of transformation that are not under his control.
[/div]Morality and empathy are not lost upon him, either; Marcin holds a vague, imperceptible 'code' close to his heart. A sense of compassion is there, but overshadowed by the ambition to complete his duties and remain loyal to his overseer. The ideals of a better life for both humans and moroi lay burrowed within his heart, since he's resorted to masking this with a facade of grim forbearance. He is all too aware that being branded as a part of the moroi has detrimental effects on his reputation. The conflict of being both parts of a split society drives him to seclusion most of the time, though strangely enough, the half-breed is very willing to work with others when the rare occasion arises.
Perhaps the most abnormal thing about Marcin is his ability to hinder almost every aspect of his transformations. He can keep himself level-headed and controlled at the sight of blood, choosing to (when he isn't around others and even then very, very rarely) allow the bloodlust to overwhelm him or suppressing it entirely. It allows him to use blades in a fight since his physical limitations without transforming are that of an average human. It is also the only reason that he is allowed to go unchecked without a handler and a driving force for his secret notion of a peace between moroi and humans. If he can control the desire for power and blood, others may be able to as well.
He is also - though rarely - known to have an oddly sarcastic sense of humor and loves all foods with a passion.
There are infrequent cases when Marcin's mind 'breaks' and he falls into fits of transformation that are not under his control.
[div class=header2] Amor Fati[/div][div class=text]"Did you know that madness, not unlike beauty, is in the eye of the beholder?"
The young moroi that Marcin had spoken to seemed unimpressed and nearly dismissive of his words. "Trying to converse with a bloodlustful moroi is foolish. You should just kill me and finish this already sloppy job."
"If I had that mentality when I'd first laid eyes on you, then you'd be dead already." The other man still seemed unconvinced. Marcin decided to offer him a few more of his vocalized thoughts, leaving the battered moroi that had been his target in a crumpled, bloody mess. Perhaps it would change the boy's life and philosophy. Perhaps not. Marcin would find him again if it didn't.
"The blossom is brother to the weed. No one should be condemned simply for being different, so I will stand up for the rights of all... and so should you, else the darkness of our own kind consume us."[/div]
[div class=header2] Backstory[/div][div class=text]Very little is known of the half-breed's past. Marcin is known to be honest and straightforward, but the only time that he blatantly lies is when it comes to what his life was before joining the Division, pulling most of the stories he weaves as simple jests. So far the tales add up to being the son of a moroi overlord who has planted him within society to see the uprising of his people, seducing a government agent and manipulating his way out of containment, and participating in an underground half-breed gladiator match for his freedom and winning.
One thing is certain: Marcin has been with the Division since it's very first days and has close ties with Flynn Whitman, who has sent him to accompany this newly-assembled team. Most of his work has been solo in the quest to solve the case of the murders, but he looks forward to helping them get to the source of the killings once and for all.[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]
[class=fyuriwrapper] max-width:950px; margin:auto; color:#000; font-family:'Raleway', Verdana; [/class] [class=left] background:#fff; max-width: 350px; margin-right: 10px; [/class] [class=charaimg] text-align:center; font-size: 0; [/class] [class=header] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); font-family:'Prompt', Verdana; font-size:30px; color:#fff; text-align:center; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=header2] width:100%; background: -webkit-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); background: -o-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); background: -ms-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); background: -moz-linear-gradient(left, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); background: linear-gradient(to right, rgb(0, 0, 0) 0%, rgb(255, 255, 255) 100%); font-family:'Prompt', Verdana; font-size:30px; color:#fff; padding:0px 10px 0px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; [/class] [class=text] padding:10px; box-sizing:border-box; text-align:justify; [/class] [class=fyuricredit] max-width:950px; margin:auto; opacity:0.5; font-size:10px; [/class]
Funeral
Body and Soul
Aldaine Adalwolf
Age: 32 years old
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Height: 5'10
Division: 9
Rank: Head of Division 9
Charge:
Blood Type: AB-negative
Personality: The brightest sun. The calmest moon. Seen. Unseen. Hot. Cold. There are two sides to every man. A struggle between thoughts and actions. There is always a conflict going on inside someone, anyone. But then there are those that see the world without any reservations, without any issues.................without any conflict. Not the tainted, not the impure, but the strong and righteous shall inherit the Earth. At least according to Aldaine Adalwolf. He is neither hot nor cold, but both. A face that will smile while a mind that is thinking of the way you will spend your last sun and sunset for existing (Moroi). He has been described as bipolar, unhinged, or having a split personality, welcoming and open, but then standing over the mass bodies of those that are imperfect and abominations without any hint of remorse. He is hot and cold, the sun and the moon, the seen and the unseen.................. at the same time.
"If I got rid of my demons, I'd lose my angels"
- Aldaine Adalwolf
Background: As the new head of Division 9, Aldaine was brought in under mysterious circumstances as the new head and has yet to make any public appearances. No one in Division 9 knows where he transferred from or know too much of his past or history. But the trail of those that look where they shouldn't be looking and asking questions they shouldn't be asking, are currently face to face with the answer of the question, what is there after death?
Attributes [/10]:
Strength: 8
Dexterity: 7
Constitution: 5
Intelligence: 8
Charisma: 6
Skills [/100]:
Weapon proficiency: 80
Hand-to-Hand: 75
Stealth: 85
Evade: 80
Medicine: 55
Parkour: 70
Collidias Rex
Proficient with Plot Armor and Natural Weapons.
[div class=fyuriwrapper]
Rank: Detective
Blood Type: O+
Handler:
[/div][div class=header] Stats[/div]
Strength
Dexterity
Constitution
Intelligence
Charisma
[div class=header] Skills[/div]
Kung-Fu
Stealth
Charm
Pain Tolerance
Sleight of Hand
Chemical Engineering
[div class=header]Theme Music[/div][/div]
Race: Moroi
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Pansexual
Height: 5'6"
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Ginger-Red
[/div]
[div class=header2] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]Val comes across as a sweet girl, relatively calm and positive. She enjoys the small things in life, and she is the type who likes to stop and smell the flowers. She's well-disciplined and has excellent self-control, though she's notably tense at times and doesn't cope with stress well.
She enjoys gardening, and has a bonsai tree she dotes over. Indoors, she likes smalltalk and watching TV.
She's also dangerously cunning.
When she transforms, she transforms slowly. First it's just the eyes, and in the right circumstances she can keep it that way. She can remain polite, cordial even ... as long as she thinks she's going to get her fill. Val doesn't explode into a frenzy at the first sight of blood - her first instinct is to negotiate. The polite and bubbly exterior melts away and a charming, forthright side rises to the forefront. She'll charm, intimidate, coerce and persuade her way into getting what she wants. After all, if someone would just play nice, she could be gentle.
Probably.
[/div]
[div class=header2] Handler, oh handler[/div][div class=text]Do you know the difference
between a monster and a beast?
A beast doesn't understand
that what it's doing is wrong
.[/div]
[div class=header2] Backstory[/div][div class=text]As a child, Val was scoped from an Arômencia orphanage. It seemed like she would be adopted by a young couple, but the couple changed their minds last-minute. The next day she was snatched off the street by the very people who had planned on adopting her, thrown into a sack and tossed into the back of a van. She didn't protest - part of her hoped that her kidnappers really did want to adopt her, and that something forced them to go about it this way. She didn’t want to go back.
After an hour she was dragged outside, and for a moment she recognized that she was still in Arômencia - before she was dragged into a basement and away from the sun. She was chained to the wall, fitted with an open-mouth gag and left like that for another hour. Then the first customer happened. A bare arm. A flash of steel. A sliver of perfect crimson seeped from pale skin and the same color pooled in her open, awestruck eyes. She thrashed and screamed, tearing at the restraints. She wanted it, she would have it, she had to have it ... but in the end, her struggling didn't matter. The customer brought himself to her, brought his arm right into her mouth where she could tear into him. She lurched and bit into him. The gag didn't let her tear and gorge like her gut demanded, but her teeth sunk in as she shook with terror and excitement. The drooling flesh melted onto her tastebuds, and for just a moment there was bliss. For just that moment, chained to a wall, gagged and gripped in the throes of ecstasy, everything she had ever been through felt like it was worth it.
The first year was spent chained to something or another. A radiator when she slept, and the wall when she fed. In light of her tutelage, she came to the conclusion that she must have been some kind of demon. The frenzy that came over her had felt deeply, intrinsically sinful like nothing she had ever known, and from the first feeding she knew that she wouldn’t be able to stop. A succubus, perhaps? The customers got a kick out of it, she seemed to fulfil a desire of some description. Her initial response was fear, disgust and hatred at her own helplessness. She opened her heart so that He might give her the strength to resist temptation … and He never gave her that strength. God worked in mysterious ways, though this was a moment where she needed him more than ever.
But nobody came.
Over the months her disgust waned into sickened reluctance, then when her reluctance ebbed, it rebounded into self-loathing that she could give in to such a thing. And then slowly, slowly … she settled for acceptance.
Her feedings became less aggressive with time, diminishing from a savage frenzy to obedient, wide-eyed anticipation as each feeding approached. In spite, she rejected her teachings and she rejected the thought that any god would give her mercy. She was a demon, and the gods had no mercy for demons. And so she came to indulge in her nature - embracing her vices shamelessly. Instead of self-loathing, she found ecstasy in her acts of sin.
After the first year, they gave her a surface room and a longer chain. She was hooked now - she wouldn't run from such a good thing. After the second year, the chain became longer still, and after the third she was freed from her chain altogether - only bound when it was time to feed. She was good now. She was tame now. Or, that’s what they thought. They became complacent. One became bold and thought he could get his fix without binding and gagging her first. It worked like a charm until he decided he’d gotten his fix, and tried to pry her off. She panicked. She killed three people in the ensuing frenzy, each of whom thought she could be calmed down. The survivors were those who ran.
Fleeing her ‘home’ she tried to settle into a ‘normal’ life, but a childhood spent in orphanages and drug dens had warped her perception of the outside world, and she had no idea how to function properly. She fell in with another drug den, in Vektra this time. She laid down ground rules - she had every intention of feeding, but no intention of frenzying again. Proper feeding protocols were to be followed.
She learned to function in the outside world this time. Coming into the fold and willingly offering her nigh-supernatural ‘gifts’ earned her some trust, and she traded her ‘bite’ for goods and services. Money, dope, lessons about the world, tutelage in various criminal pursuits. She stayed here until she was eighteen. She had been flirting with a meth cook several years her senior, and when her birthday rolled around she thought it appropriate to consummate this relationship. She didn’t know what would happen - as far as she knew, only blood would trigger her frenzy. She had no way of knowing what would happen. She killed three people in her frenzy - starting with her lover before slowly, quietly progressing to two sleeping women. Even in her frenzy, she moved quietly and with purpose, pinning down and covering the mouths of her victims before latching on and draining them. Even in her frenzy she acted with frightening, lucid cunning.
She panicked when she came down again. She didn’t want to be a demon any more. She didn’t want these vices, she didn’t want to live in sin. She ran away again, scouring her memory and the net for something, for anything that could help her. This time she wound up at a monastery.
She wasn’t forthright, but she confessed to being gluttonous, to being undisciplined and to having no control over herself. She prostrated herself and went as far as begging someone to help her. She needed to learn self-control and she needed something spiritual on her side - but something that wouldn’t disqualify her on the basis of being a demon.
Learning to control her urges through meditation, Val managed to stay until she was twenty-four. There were a couple of near-incidents - twice she advanced upon and overpowered her mentor when the man was injured during training, advising that he submit and let her partake without any ‘roughness’. Her mentor was a calm and collected man. When she began feeding, he submitted to her threats, and instead of fighting he placed a hand on the back of her head and spoke to her reassuringly. She didn’t kill him - she calmly drained him for some time, but withdrew before the damage was done. She cried and profusely apologized for a while thereafter. Her mentor kept a much closer eye on her after that, giving her more personal attention and making an effort to keep her somewhat separated from the others. But he couldn’t keep an eye on her forever - and when a younger student cut his hand open while training alongside Val, her transformation triggered. She didn’t frenzy this time - but she advanced on the student and threatened him, ordering him to stay still and submit if he didn’t want to be hurt. He did so, and Val began feeding … until another student intervened by kicking her in the head. Her calm and collected bloodlust erupted into a frenzy once more. Many students were trained fighters, which only intensified her frenzy when they fought back competently. In her worst frenzy to date, she killed eight students, and then a ninth individual who rushed to the aid upon hearing the commotion. She lunged on the ninth and tore into him. The ninth didn’t fight back - he placed a hand on the back of her head as she killed him, and he apologized for letting this happen. Val had killed her mentor before she could even recognize him.
When the KMPD arrived on-scene to respond to the incident, they found Val drenched in blood and kneeling on the steps to the monastery - arms in the air, and eyes still a vivid red. Even in her frenzy, the shock of killing her mentor had hurt her enough to give herself in.
She confessed to all her crimes and to her ‘demonic’ nature, and the KMPD traced her activity back to everyone she had killed. A body-count of fifteen. She should have been executed for what she did, or at the very least thrown into a lab or a prison cell for life. Even as she confessed her crimes, she begged them to show mercy. She just wanted to live. She wanted to get help. She had tried to get help. She sat in a prison cell for four months as her case was reviewed, and she expected the worst. What she got was far more than she felt she deserved.
She was extended an offer by Division 9 of the KMPD - her history was serious enough that there was no hope she could never be released into the public, but she had expressed sincere remorse and made visible attempts to control her ‘situation’. Remarkably, while she had never managed to fully control herself - the fact that she could surrender to the KMPD even in the midst of a frenzy showed an uncharacteristic level of self-control. There was perhaps a way for her to integrate into society after all - but she’d need to be assigned someone to keep watch over her. Someone whose job it was to make sure she could never lose control of herself.
She joined Division 9 three years ago, assigned to a handler. Everything went fine up until her first frenzy. She had become excellent friends with her handler, but the moment she scented blood in the field, she turned that to her advantage. She told him that she didn’t want to hurt him. He didn’t want to hurt her, did he? They were friends. And friends helped one another out. And in that moment, she desperately needed his help. She was stronger than him, she would probably overpower him. But if he could play nice and submit, she could be gentle.
And her handler submitted. And true to her word, she was gentle - the pair enraptured by a shared moment of ecstasy in a Xosa alleyway. And then she withdrew, they covered up the bite mark, and they carried on like nothing had happened. This might have been the perfect cover-up if another agent hadn’t witnessed the whole thing from the shadows. Her handler was promptly removed from Division 9 for violation of conduct. A handler was expected to properly control their Moroi, and her handler had failed to do so. Val would be provided a new handler - a sterner handler who wouldn’t fall victim to her tricks. And if this new handler couldn’t keep her under control … maybe they’d just have to admit that it was impossible for Val to integrate into society.
Val is on her last chance now.
[/div][/div][/div][/div][div class=fyuricredit]code/design by @Fyuri[/div]
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[div class=left][div class=charaimg]
[div class=header] Identification[/div][div class=text]Division: 9
Rank: Detective
Blood Type: O+
Handler:
[/div][div class=header] Stats[/div]
Strength
Dexterity
Constitution
Intelligence
Charisma
[div class=header] Skills[/div]
Kung-Fu
Stealth
Charm
Pain Tolerance
Sleight of Hand
Chemical Engineering
[div class=header]Theme Music[/div][/div]
[div class=header2]Valencia
[div class=text]Age: 25Race: Moroi
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Pansexual
Height: 5'6"
Eye Color: Blue
Hair Color: Ginger-Red
[/div]
[div class=header2] Psychological Profile[/div][div class=text]Val comes across as a sweet girl, relatively calm and positive. She enjoys the small things in life, and she is the type who likes to stop and smell the flowers. She's well-disciplined and has excellent self-control, though she's notably tense at times and doesn't cope with stress well.
She enjoys gardening, and has a bonsai tree she dotes over. Indoors, she likes smalltalk and watching TV.
She's also dangerously cunning.
When she transforms, she transforms slowly. First it's just the eyes, and in the right circumstances she can keep it that way. She can remain polite, cordial even ... as long as she thinks she's going to get her fill. Val doesn't explode into a frenzy at the first sight of blood - her first instinct is to negotiate. The polite and bubbly exterior melts away and a charming, forthright side rises to the forefront. She'll charm, intimidate, coerce and persuade her way into getting what she wants. After all, if someone would just play nice, she could be gentle.
Probably.
[/div]
[div class=header2] Handler, oh handler[/div][div class=text]Do you know the difference
between a monster and a beast?
A beast doesn't understand
that what it's doing is wrong
.[/div]
[div class=header2] Backstory[/div][div class=text]As a child, Val was scoped from an Arômencia orphanage. It seemed like she would be adopted by a young couple, but the couple changed their minds last-minute. The next day she was snatched off the street by the very people who had planned on adopting her, thrown into a sack and tossed into the back of a van. She didn't protest - part of her hoped that her kidnappers really did want to adopt her, and that something forced them to go about it this way. She didn’t want to go back.
After an hour she was dragged outside, and for a moment she recognized that she was still in Arômencia - before she was dragged into a basement and away from the sun. She was chained to the wall, fitted with an open-mouth gag and left like that for another hour. Then the first customer happened. A bare arm. A flash of steel. A sliver of perfect crimson seeped from pale skin and the same color pooled in her open, awestruck eyes. She thrashed and screamed, tearing at the restraints. She wanted it, she would have it, she had to have it ... but in the end, her struggling didn't matter. The customer brought himself to her, brought his arm right into her mouth where she could tear into him. She lurched and bit into him. The gag didn't let her tear and gorge like her gut demanded, but her teeth sunk in as she shook with terror and excitement. The drooling flesh melted onto her tastebuds, and for just a moment there was bliss. For just that moment, chained to a wall, gagged and gripped in the throes of ecstasy, everything she had ever been through felt like it was worth it.
The first year was spent chained to something or another. A radiator when she slept, and the wall when she fed. In light of her tutelage, she came to the conclusion that she must have been some kind of demon. The frenzy that came over her had felt deeply, intrinsically sinful like nothing she had ever known, and from the first feeding she knew that she wouldn’t be able to stop. A succubus, perhaps? The customers got a kick out of it, she seemed to fulfil a desire of some description. Her initial response was fear, disgust and hatred at her own helplessness. She opened her heart so that He might give her the strength to resist temptation … and He never gave her that strength. God worked in mysterious ways, though this was a moment where she needed him more than ever.
But nobody came.
Over the months her disgust waned into sickened reluctance, then when her reluctance ebbed, it rebounded into self-loathing that she could give in to such a thing. And then slowly, slowly … she settled for acceptance.
Her feedings became less aggressive with time, diminishing from a savage frenzy to obedient, wide-eyed anticipation as each feeding approached. In spite, she rejected her teachings and she rejected the thought that any god would give her mercy. She was a demon, and the gods had no mercy for demons. And so she came to indulge in her nature - embracing her vices shamelessly. Instead of self-loathing, she found ecstasy in her acts of sin.
After the first year, they gave her a surface room and a longer chain. She was hooked now - she wouldn't run from such a good thing. After the second year, the chain became longer still, and after the third she was freed from her chain altogether - only bound when it was time to feed. She was good now. She was tame now. Or, that’s what they thought. They became complacent. One became bold and thought he could get his fix without binding and gagging her first. It worked like a charm until he decided he’d gotten his fix, and tried to pry her off. She panicked. She killed three people in the ensuing frenzy, each of whom thought she could be calmed down. The survivors were those who ran.
Fleeing her ‘home’ she tried to settle into a ‘normal’ life, but a childhood spent in orphanages and drug dens had warped her perception of the outside world, and she had no idea how to function properly. She fell in with another drug den, in Vektra this time. She laid down ground rules - she had every intention of feeding, but no intention of frenzying again. Proper feeding protocols were to be followed.
She learned to function in the outside world this time. Coming into the fold and willingly offering her nigh-supernatural ‘gifts’ earned her some trust, and she traded her ‘bite’ for goods and services. Money, dope, lessons about the world, tutelage in various criminal pursuits. She stayed here until she was eighteen. She had been flirting with a meth cook several years her senior, and when her birthday rolled around she thought it appropriate to consummate this relationship. She didn’t know what would happen - as far as she knew, only blood would trigger her frenzy. She had no way of knowing what would happen. She killed three people in her frenzy - starting with her lover before slowly, quietly progressing to two sleeping women. Even in her frenzy, she moved quietly and with purpose, pinning down and covering the mouths of her victims before latching on and draining them. Even in her frenzy she acted with frightening, lucid cunning.
She panicked when she came down again. She didn’t want to be a demon any more. She didn’t want these vices, she didn’t want to live in sin. She ran away again, scouring her memory and the net for something, for anything that could help her. This time she wound up at a monastery.
She wasn’t forthright, but she confessed to being gluttonous, to being undisciplined and to having no control over herself. She prostrated herself and went as far as begging someone to help her. She needed to learn self-control and she needed something spiritual on her side - but something that wouldn’t disqualify her on the basis of being a demon.
Learning to control her urges through meditation, Val managed to stay until she was twenty-four. There were a couple of near-incidents - twice she advanced upon and overpowered her mentor when the man was injured during training, advising that he submit and let her partake without any ‘roughness’. Her mentor was a calm and collected man. When she began feeding, he submitted to her threats, and instead of fighting he placed a hand on the back of her head and spoke to her reassuringly. She didn’t kill him - she calmly drained him for some time, but withdrew before the damage was done. She cried and profusely apologized for a while thereafter. Her mentor kept a much closer eye on her after that, giving her more personal attention and making an effort to keep her somewhat separated from the others. But he couldn’t keep an eye on her forever - and when a younger student cut his hand open while training alongside Val, her transformation triggered. She didn’t frenzy this time - but she advanced on the student and threatened him, ordering him to stay still and submit if he didn’t want to be hurt. He did so, and Val began feeding … until another student intervened by kicking her in the head. Her calm and collected bloodlust erupted into a frenzy once more. Many students were trained fighters, which only intensified her frenzy when they fought back competently. In her worst frenzy to date, she killed eight students, and then a ninth individual who rushed to the aid upon hearing the commotion. She lunged on the ninth and tore into him. The ninth didn’t fight back - he placed a hand on the back of her head as she killed him, and he apologized for letting this happen. Val had killed her mentor before she could even recognize him.
When the KMPD arrived on-scene to respond to the incident, they found Val drenched in blood and kneeling on the steps to the monastery - arms in the air, and eyes still a vivid red. Even in her frenzy, the shock of killing her mentor had hurt her enough to give herself in.
She confessed to all her crimes and to her ‘demonic’ nature, and the KMPD traced her activity back to everyone she had killed. A body-count of fifteen. She should have been executed for what she did, or at the very least thrown into a lab or a prison cell for life. Even as she confessed her crimes, she begged them to show mercy. She just wanted to live. She wanted to get help. She had tried to get help. She sat in a prison cell for four months as her case was reviewed, and she expected the worst. What she got was far more than she felt she deserved.
She was extended an offer by Division 9 of the KMPD - her history was serious enough that there was no hope she could never be released into the public, but she had expressed sincere remorse and made visible attempts to control her ‘situation’. Remarkably, while she had never managed to fully control herself - the fact that she could surrender to the KMPD even in the midst of a frenzy showed an uncharacteristic level of self-control. There was perhaps a way for her to integrate into society after all - but she’d need to be assigned someone to keep watch over her. Someone whose job it was to make sure she could never lose control of herself.
She joined Division 9 three years ago, assigned to a handler. Everything went fine up until her first frenzy. She had become excellent friends with her handler, but the moment she scented blood in the field, she turned that to her advantage. She told him that she didn’t want to hurt him. He didn’t want to hurt her, did he? They were friends. And friends helped one another out. And in that moment, she desperately needed his help. She was stronger than him, she would probably overpower him. But if he could play nice and submit, she could be gentle.
And her handler submitted. And true to her word, she was gentle - the pair enraptured by a shared moment of ecstasy in a Xosa alleyway. And then she withdrew, they covered up the bite mark, and they carried on like nothing had happened. This might have been the perfect cover-up if another agent hadn’t witnessed the whole thing from the shadows. Her handler was promptly removed from Division 9 for violation of conduct. A handler was expected to properly control their Moroi, and her handler had failed to do so. Val would be provided a new handler - a sterner handler who wouldn’t fall victim to her tricks. And if this new handler couldn’t keep her under control … maybe they’d just have to admit that it was impossible for Val to integrate into society.
Val is on her last chance now.
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