IceQueen
The Clawed Fauni
@Icefox11, please edit this post to include the character/sign-up information.
The Apartment on13th Street
- Thread starter IceQueen
- Start date
IceQueen
The Clawed Fauni
Ratio: Male to Female
2/2
Ratio: Human to Not Human
1/3
~~Skeleton~~
Appearance
Name
Age
Race
Sexuality:
Personality(Detailed)
Bio(Two paragraphs)
Powers/ Abilities
Writing example(at the least 200 words)
Other
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BloodThunder27
Seven Thousand Club
Appearance:
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_10/inis.jpg.3f76e44e2a42bb6c9107b01b63d24cfa.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="31622" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_10/inis.jpg.3f76e44e2a42bb6c9107b01b63d24cfa.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
-Description: East-Asian Female, Brown Hair, 5' 6" Tall, Sitting at around 145 lbs., Expecting Mother (Seven Months Pregnant), frequently seen wearing a diamond bracelet, gold gemstone bracelet, wedding ring necklace, purple maternity dress, white stockings, black boots and feather earrings. To keep warm, she wears a blue cardigan, but when not in cold environments, she keeps the sleeves raised.
Name: Angela Aimi Kang
-Aliases: Angie, AK
Age: 25
-Date of Birth: May 30 1989
-Time of Birth: 5:30pm
Race: Human
Sexuality: Straight/Heterosexual
Personality: Since High School, Angela tends to be very shy and is hard to approach. If one can look past her shyness, Angela is a nice and caring person. She is generally easygoing and lenient with people she meets.
-Likes: Spending time with her Family & Friends, Reading, Relaxing, Cuddling, playing with Animals (Especially cats and dogs), cleaning, writing, socializing
-Dislikes: People touching her (This only amplified when she got pregnant), sharp objects, foods with a strong smell, spiders, rodents, cigarettes
Strengths: Nice and Caring, Athletic, Multilingual (Knows English, Korean, Japanese, Chinese and Vietnamese, also Fluent in Russian, Portuguese, French, German, and Spanish)
-Weaknesses: Pregnancy (Well, you can't really do much when there's a baby inside you), Aichmophobia (Fear of Sharp Objects), Constantly has Nightmares about C-Sections as a result of Aichmophobia, Mood Swings (She's having a baby, she can't help it), Insomnia, Heartburn, Backache, Uncomfortable with Heights
Bio: Angela was born in Seattle, Washington to Korean-American Immigrants. Her Father is a Civil Engineer and her Mother is a Family Therapist. Since Junior High School, Angela has the natural talent of picking up other languages when she hears them enough and puts her mind to it. As a result, she can speak up to eight other languages next to English and her native tongue. After graduating from High School, Angela would go into College, aiming for the same major as her Mother, which was Psychology. She would then follow her Mother's Footsteps in becoming a Therapist. In her profession, she began working with troubled teenagers and families, much like her mother before her. Two years after College, Angela got married to her boyfriend of nearly nine years, two of which they were engaged. After two years of marriage, the couple wanted to start a family, so it was a happy moment when Angela announced that she was pregnant. After visiting a few relatives for a month in South Korea, her husband had to leave for a business trip a few days later.
Powers/Abilities: Precognition, Photographic Memory
Writing example: Angela woke up feeling dizzy, followed by a headache. When she looked around her, she was wondering where she was. Obviously she wasn't on a plane back to home. She didn't really bring much with her while she was visiting her parents, siblings and other relatives during her one month long trip to South Korea. Seeing that she was standing out on a beach and there was a plane wreck not too far from her. When she started regaining more consciences, she freaked out because if she did take a hard landing, something might happen to her baby. However, she was not bleeding and something had broken her fall, but she was unsure what it was. For a few moments she felt around her stomach to make sure the baby was okay. To her relief, the baby kicked, so to her, the baby was okay. The wind began blowing against her hair and earrings. She wondered if she was alone and wondered if she'd ever get to go home, not wanting to have a child in the place where she was now. A desolate island was obviously no place for a pregnant woman. How would she get home? Will she be alright?
Other:
-Place of Birth: Seattle, WA
-Relationships:
--Parents: Retired and moved back to South Korea after she had graduated from College
--Two Older Siblings: Has an Older Brother in South Korea working as a Police Officer and an Older Sister who is a Nurse and taking care of their now Elderly Parents.
--Two Younger Siblings: Has one younger brother who is studying Computer Engineering in Oklahoma and a Younger Sister who is a nurse.
--Husband: Dated for Seven Years, Engaged for Two, Married two years. Now expecting their first child. After her Return from South Korea, he leaves a few days later to go on a Business Trip.
Haunted
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_10/inis.jpg.3f76e44e2a42bb6c9107b01b63d24cfa.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="31622" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_10/inis.jpg.3f76e44e2a42bb6c9107b01b63d24cfa.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
-Description: East-Asian Female, Brown Hair, 5' 6" Tall, Sitting at around 145 lbs., Expecting Mother (Seven Months Pregnant), frequently seen wearing a diamond bracelet, gold gemstone bracelet, wedding ring necklace, purple maternity dress, white stockings, black boots and feather earrings. To keep warm, she wears a blue cardigan, but when not in cold environments, she keeps the sleeves raised.
Name: Angela Aimi Kang
-Aliases: Angie, AK
Age: 25
-Date of Birth: May 30 1989
-Time of Birth: 5:30pm
Race: Human
Sexuality: Straight/Heterosexual
Personality: Since High School, Angela tends to be very shy and is hard to approach. If one can look past her shyness, Angela is a nice and caring person. She is generally easygoing and lenient with people she meets.
-Likes: Spending time with her Family & Friends, Reading, Relaxing, Cuddling, playing with Animals (Especially cats and dogs), cleaning, writing, socializing
-Dislikes: People touching her (This only amplified when she got pregnant), sharp objects, foods with a strong smell, spiders, rodents, cigarettes
Strengths: Nice and Caring, Athletic, Multilingual (Knows English, Korean, Japanese, Chinese and Vietnamese, also Fluent in Russian, Portuguese, French, German, and Spanish)
-Weaknesses: Pregnancy (Well, you can't really do much when there's a baby inside you), Aichmophobia (Fear of Sharp Objects), Constantly has Nightmares about C-Sections as a result of Aichmophobia, Mood Swings (She's having a baby, she can't help it), Insomnia, Heartburn, Backache, Uncomfortable with Heights
Bio: Angela was born in Seattle, Washington to Korean-American Immigrants. Her Father is a Civil Engineer and her Mother is a Family Therapist. Since Junior High School, Angela has the natural talent of picking up other languages when she hears them enough and puts her mind to it. As a result, she can speak up to eight other languages next to English and her native tongue. After graduating from High School, Angela would go into College, aiming for the same major as her Mother, which was Psychology. She would then follow her Mother's Footsteps in becoming a Therapist. In her profession, she began working with troubled teenagers and families, much like her mother before her. Two years after College, Angela got married to her boyfriend of nearly nine years, two of which they were engaged. After two years of marriage, the couple wanted to start a family, so it was a happy moment when Angela announced that she was pregnant. After visiting a few relatives for a month in South Korea, her husband had to leave for a business trip a few days later.
Powers/Abilities: Precognition, Photographic Memory
Writing example: Angela woke up feeling dizzy, followed by a headache. When she looked around her, she was wondering where she was. Obviously she wasn't on a plane back to home. She didn't really bring much with her while she was visiting her parents, siblings and other relatives during her one month long trip to South Korea. Seeing that she was standing out on a beach and there was a plane wreck not too far from her. When she started regaining more consciences, she freaked out because if she did take a hard landing, something might happen to her baby. However, she was not bleeding and something had broken her fall, but she was unsure what it was. For a few moments she felt around her stomach to make sure the baby was okay. To her relief, the baby kicked, so to her, the baby was okay. The wind began blowing against her hair and earrings. She wondered if she was alone and wondered if she'd ever get to go home, not wanting to have a child in the place where she was now. A desolate island was obviously no place for a pregnant woman. How would she get home? Will she be alright?
Other:
-Place of Birth: Seattle, WA
-Relationships:
--Parents: Retired and moved back to South Korea after she had graduated from College
--Two Older Siblings: Has an Older Brother in South Korea working as a Police Officer and an Older Sister who is a Nurse and taking care of their now Elderly Parents.
--Two Younger Siblings: Has one younger brother who is studying Computer Engineering in Oklahoma and a Younger Sister who is a nurse.
--Husband: Dated for Seven Years, Engaged for Two, Married two years. Now expecting their first child. After her Return from South Korea, he leaves a few days later to go on a Business Trip.
Haunted
Attachments
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IceQueen
The Clawed Fauni
Name: Kyle Kent
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Appearance:
Kyle is a lanky british heartthrob. He was born in Czechoslovakia, but he lived in Great Britain for most of his life, giving him a heavy British accent. He stands around 6'2", with a weight of 170 pounds. He has a medium frame and lean muscle which is used for agility and flexibility. He is known for always wearing hoddies with t-shirts or tank tops underneath, with a pair of jeans. The only time he ever takes off his beanie is when he goes swimming or he goes to sleep. You will almost never see him without it.
Personality:
Kyle is not the most outgoing person at first. He is usually found tugging on his beanie, trying to hide his face with his hair, or fixing his gaze on the ground. He will most likely not speak much when you meet him, but he does hold strangers with high respect. He has a kind heart and good intentions.
Once you get to know him, he is a smiley kind of boy. He will throw in a bit of sarcasm here and there, but will never step to far. If by chance he does, he will most likely immediately apologize and probably stay away from you for a few days, thinking that you know either hate him, or cannot stand to see him.
Even he has flaws though. He can be untrusting, not willing to give to much information until he is sure he can trust you. He can also get increasingly angry at people who insult his close friends, or his work. He may not seem like a great fighter, but he can dodge like a boss. However, he hates fighting and will only resort to it when absolutely
necessary.
Power:
Since Kyle had spent most of his time in silence, he would sit atop a building regularly. There he could hear all the sounds of his home, London. Soon he began to collect the wind in his palm. At this point, he knows that he is not normal. He can create storms and manipulate the wind. He can also fly for a period of time.
History:
Kyle was born on November 14th in a small town located in Czechoslovakia. His town, was small to say the least. You knew everyone there by name, and you could barely see your neighbors house. Kyle, however has very little recollection of this town. He was about five when the move happened. He had just entered elementary school and had just made new friends when out of the blue, his family moved in the middle of the year to London because of his dad's work.
Now he was just a frightened boy, living in the middle of London, with no friends. He was enrolled in a public school near his house, which didn't help his case. At this point, all of the people in his school had friend groups. As a kid, he was a bit more adventurous. But as he attempted to join some friend groups, he was pushed into the dirt with the words "Eww! Go away loser." or "You can't play with us.". He resulted to being alone for the rest of the year, causing him to become lonely and quiet.
As the years went on, no one dared make friends with him. He would be seen drawing or painting at school and not participating in sports after school like the rest of the boys did. The boys began to spread rumors about him liking other boys. He ignored them, because for the moment, it was doing him no harm.
Years pass and nothing change. The horrible lies the boys told transferred to his middle school life. At this point, he was still in love with drawing. He was found most every day drawing cute pictures of a girl and a guy together or something like him in his library reading. Once the boys found out, he could never hear the end of it. One day, the boys came up to him at lunch with one of his drawings. At that point, they had finally snapped him. For the first time in his life, he fought back. They fought for a while, lots of blood being spilled, until a teacher noticed them and broke up the fight. Since then, the bully has wanted him to destroy every thing he loved. This didn't stop all the way though high school, but he still managed to graduate.
Kyle was afraid of his classmates, so as soon as possible, he moved to go to collage in New York to become a photographer. When he graduated, he got offered a job here in New York, so he decided to stay at the Hostel for a long time, until he could afford a good apartment that is.
Writing sample:
Kyle shivered, tugging his coat farther over his shoulders. It was another cold November day. But it was not just any November day, it was the 14th. His 16th birthday. Now most would be excited, elated, or even joyful, Kyle was nothing if not the opposite. He did not understand why he was being forced to celebrate the day he was born. Sure, it was nice to have cake and get a few gifts that he would actually enjoy from relatives, but the whole thing was a sore subject at school. He shifted his gaze down to the snow covered side walk, the thin layer of frosty flakes dotting the ground lightly. He looked up at the grey sky, seeing a few flakes fall down and land on his face, sticking to his eye lashes. Blinking a few times, he continued his walk to school.
Soon, the building came into view. He could see the amount of students increasing by the minute, all of them finding different ways to keep warm. A pair of lovers where holding gloved hands, a group of friends walked together like a line of penguins, and then there was Kyle, bundled up in a scarf and heavy winter coat, alone. He shivered, walking briskly inside the building.
As soon as Kyle walked in, he could feel the warm air invading his body though the coat, warming every fiber. He let a happy sigh escape him, walking towards his locker. Today he had brought a book, a good book at that. It was his favorite, and he was sure, by now that they would leave him alone. He smiled ever so slightly as he peaked at it in his back pack, shoving his coat into the locker, but keeping the scarf around his neck as he walked to class.
Finally, lunch rolled around, and he decided it was the perfect opportunity to read. He quietly brought out his book, along with his homemade lunch and his thick coat. He concealed the book in the brown lunch bag, pulling his thick jacket on before walking briskly back outside.
Outside where a few brave souls, but not too many, which was perfect. He walked towards the back corner of the school, where hardly any teacher or student dared venture. He found his usual nook and sat down, breathing hot breath into his hands at an attempt to warm them up. Quietly, he fished out his book, opening it to the place he had left of. And for a time, he thought that everything would be ok.
But the looming shadow over his head a few minutes later proved him wrong. His body tensed visibly, his hands beginning to shake and his skin paling significantly. It was Fransis, the local bully.
“Well, well. What do we have here?” Fransis asked, ripping the book out of his hands and hanging it by one of the covers.
“S-stop, please.” Kyle begged, getting onto his knees to try and take it back.
Fransis laughed, tugging the book far out of Kyle’s reach. “It looks like one of those things… what are they called… Ah! Yes, a book. Or a more common definition, fertilizer.” He said, grinning evilly. Kyle could feel tears coming to his eyes, as Fransis took a fist full of pages and yanked, the sheets giving off a horrifying ripping sound as they were violently taken from the book. Fransis’ gang laughed with him, joining in on ripping the pages. Slow tears start to fall from Kyles eyes, the pages falling into little tiny pieces onto the ground. Fransis soon made quick work, throwing the cover on the ground and leaving.
He touched the pages gently, the sneering of the bullies still echoing in his mind. He looked at the pages, the ink smeared by the snow and the tears running down his face. He could hear the class bell ring in the distance, but he didn’t make a move. He just curled up around the soaked pages, holding onto one last piece with a note in smeared ink on it.
“To My Dearest Grandson,
Love you forever
Grandma 11/14”
Gender: Male
Age: 24
Appearance:
Kyle is a lanky british heartthrob. He was born in Czechoslovakia, but he lived in Great Britain for most of his life, giving him a heavy British accent. He stands around 6'2", with a weight of 170 pounds. He has a medium frame and lean muscle which is used for agility and flexibility. He is known for always wearing hoddies with t-shirts or tank tops underneath, with a pair of jeans. The only time he ever takes off his beanie is when he goes swimming or he goes to sleep. You will almost never see him without it.
Personality:
Kyle is not the most outgoing person at first. He is usually found tugging on his beanie, trying to hide his face with his hair, or fixing his gaze on the ground. He will most likely not speak much when you meet him, but he does hold strangers with high respect. He has a kind heart and good intentions.
Once you get to know him, he is a smiley kind of boy. He will throw in a bit of sarcasm here and there, but will never step to far. If by chance he does, he will most likely immediately apologize and probably stay away from you for a few days, thinking that you know either hate him, or cannot stand to see him.
Even he has flaws though. He can be untrusting, not willing to give to much information until he is sure he can trust you. He can also get increasingly angry at people who insult his close friends, or his work. He may not seem like a great fighter, but he can dodge like a boss. However, he hates fighting and will only resort to it when absolutely
necessary.
Power:
Since Kyle had spent most of his time in silence, he would sit atop a building regularly. There he could hear all the sounds of his home, London. Soon he began to collect the wind in his palm. At this point, he knows that he is not normal. He can create storms and manipulate the wind. He can also fly for a period of time.
History:
Kyle was born on November 14th in a small town located in Czechoslovakia. His town, was small to say the least. You knew everyone there by name, and you could barely see your neighbors house. Kyle, however has very little recollection of this town. He was about five when the move happened. He had just entered elementary school and had just made new friends when out of the blue, his family moved in the middle of the year to London because of his dad's work.
Now he was just a frightened boy, living in the middle of London, with no friends. He was enrolled in a public school near his house, which didn't help his case. At this point, all of the people in his school had friend groups. As a kid, he was a bit more adventurous. But as he attempted to join some friend groups, he was pushed into the dirt with the words "Eww! Go away loser." or "You can't play with us.". He resulted to being alone for the rest of the year, causing him to become lonely and quiet.
As the years went on, no one dared make friends with him. He would be seen drawing or painting at school and not participating in sports after school like the rest of the boys did. The boys began to spread rumors about him liking other boys. He ignored them, because for the moment, it was doing him no harm.
Years pass and nothing change. The horrible lies the boys told transferred to his middle school life. At this point, he was still in love with drawing. He was found most every day drawing cute pictures of a girl and a guy together or something like him in his library reading. Once the boys found out, he could never hear the end of it. One day, the boys came up to him at lunch with one of his drawings. At that point, they had finally snapped him. For the first time in his life, he fought back. They fought for a while, lots of blood being spilled, until a teacher noticed them and broke up the fight. Since then, the bully has wanted him to destroy every thing he loved. This didn't stop all the way though high school, but he still managed to graduate.
Kyle was afraid of his classmates, so as soon as possible, he moved to go to collage in New York to become a photographer. When he graduated, he got offered a job here in New York, so he decided to stay at the Hostel for a long time, until he could afford a good apartment that is.
Writing sample:
Kyle shivered, tugging his coat farther over his shoulders. It was another cold November day. But it was not just any November day, it was the 14th. His 16th birthday. Now most would be excited, elated, or even joyful, Kyle was nothing if not the opposite. He did not understand why he was being forced to celebrate the day he was born. Sure, it was nice to have cake and get a few gifts that he would actually enjoy from relatives, but the whole thing was a sore subject at school. He shifted his gaze down to the snow covered side walk, the thin layer of frosty flakes dotting the ground lightly. He looked up at the grey sky, seeing a few flakes fall down and land on his face, sticking to his eye lashes. Blinking a few times, he continued his walk to school.
Soon, the building came into view. He could see the amount of students increasing by the minute, all of them finding different ways to keep warm. A pair of lovers where holding gloved hands, a group of friends walked together like a line of penguins, and then there was Kyle, bundled up in a scarf and heavy winter coat, alone. He shivered, walking briskly inside the building.
As soon as Kyle walked in, he could feel the warm air invading his body though the coat, warming every fiber. He let a happy sigh escape him, walking towards his locker. Today he had brought a book, a good book at that. It was his favorite, and he was sure, by now that they would leave him alone. He smiled ever so slightly as he peaked at it in his back pack, shoving his coat into the locker, but keeping the scarf around his neck as he walked to class.
Finally, lunch rolled around, and he decided it was the perfect opportunity to read. He quietly brought out his book, along with his homemade lunch and his thick coat. He concealed the book in the brown lunch bag, pulling his thick jacket on before walking briskly back outside.
Outside where a few brave souls, but not too many, which was perfect. He walked towards the back corner of the school, where hardly any teacher or student dared venture. He found his usual nook and sat down, breathing hot breath into his hands at an attempt to warm them up. Quietly, he fished out his book, opening it to the place he had left of. And for a time, he thought that everything would be ok.
But the looming shadow over his head a few minutes later proved him wrong. His body tensed visibly, his hands beginning to shake and his skin paling significantly. It was Fransis, the local bully.
“Well, well. What do we have here?” Fransis asked, ripping the book out of his hands and hanging it by one of the covers.
“S-stop, please.” Kyle begged, getting onto his knees to try and take it back.
Fransis laughed, tugging the book far out of Kyle’s reach. “It looks like one of those things… what are they called… Ah! Yes, a book. Or a more common definition, fertilizer.” He said, grinning evilly. Kyle could feel tears coming to his eyes, as Fransis took a fist full of pages and yanked, the sheets giving off a horrifying ripping sound as they were violently taken from the book. Fransis’ gang laughed with him, joining in on ripping the pages. Slow tears start to fall from Kyles eyes, the pages falling into little tiny pieces onto the ground. Fransis soon made quick work, throwing the cover on the ground and leaving.
He touched the pages gently, the sneering of the bullies still echoing in his mind. He looked at the pages, the ink smeared by the snow and the tears running down his face. He could hear the class bell ring in the distance, but he didn’t make a move. He just curled up around the soaked pages, holding onto one last piece with a note in smeared ink on it.
“To My Dearest Grandson,
Love you forever
Grandma 11/14”
Last edited by a moderator:
Hinatarocks
Today I got lost on the road of life.
Appearance
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_10/Danielle.jpg.771505ae2ae44a5f3a69fb47efaa325f.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="31666" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_10/Danielle.jpg.771505ae2ae44a5f3a69fb47efaa325f.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
Name: Danielle Delacriox
Age: 32
Race: Caucasian
Sexuality: Hetero
Personality: Cold, conceited, methodical and unappreciative. She has no time to hear of anyone's problems and will nonchalantly walk away mid-conversation. A pure diva who could care less about anyone in her life, truly anyone. She tries not to speak to most people because she feels as if she's above them or they would want to talk about pursuits she simply doesn't care about. She takes the phrase “It's all about me' to a whole new level. She can be found shopping constantly and that is where she feels the most at home. Her one true love, material. She loves anything of value and will show it off in a grandeur fashion.
Bio: Danielle was born into stardom at an early age in Paris, France. Both of her parents were soap opera actors and fell in love on the set. Her childhood was that of privilege. She was afforded any doll she could dream of, any pony she wanted in her fathers stables, and a closet so large it could engulf the average master bedroom. Danielle never knew strife, but on the downside, she never cared about anyone who had. In grade school she was very popular wearing the trendiest clothes, prettiest in her class, and the biggest diva there. Because of her parents the other children swooned over here and Danielle felt a sense of entitlement, so she came to expect that behavior. If another child dared not worship her she would spread rumors and ultimately destroy that child. Danielle's home life was dysfunctional to put it mildly. Her mother would be found wearing short dresses and caked in makeup. Constantly her mother had a cigarette in her mouth held by a fancy cigarette holder made of pure ivory. Danielle rarely spoke to her mother because between social engagements, award shows, and rehearsing for the next show, she never gave Danielle a second. Her father was much of the same except he crossed over into feature films and was oftentimes living in a city called Los Angeles. Danielle had several hired hands and not a soul bothered to get to know her so as a consequence she grew into adulthood cold, unable to understand empathy or love towards one another. After her reign of terror in school she became an actress, forced upon her by her parents. Her mother was now a wash-up, a has-been and lives vicariously through Danielle. Her first role was about a poor nurse who was a struggling single mother and all the acting in the world couldn't make this role believable so she was released from the show. However, her mother's former soap opera picked her up and made her the villain of the show. A rich and uncaring woman who was materialistic. Danielle really had to stretch her acting there (yeah right). She was an overnight success. She adored by everyone. Her mailbox flowing with letter of praise and single men wishing to marry her. The tabloids followed her everywhere and the paparazzi and her had a wonderful working relationship. She ate up the stardom. She attended the most lavish parties, went to the most sought after and hard to get in clubs, and lived recklessly. Award show after award show she became more and more of a household name. After five years of being France's #1 starlet she made the move to Hollywood. There she learned (with much reluctance) proper American English and starred in many films. She had around sixteen blockbusters by the time she was thirty-two. By this time she was slowing down a little. She had never really dated anyone other than one night stands and never let anyone in. She started to feel empty. She became depressed. For about six months she lived with a depression she wanted nobody to know about, that is until the day she decided she wanted to die. Always being in control she wrote a letter telling her fans crap they would want to hear and she slit her wrists. The End, the grand finale. Danielle Delacroix was pronounced dead on arrival.
Powers/ Abilities: She is a soul collector and uses an ethereal device to channel lost souls into hell. She is a demon however she retained her beautiful outward appearance so that she may blend in amongst the humans.
Writing example: When she arrived in hell she looked around. It was horrible and the whole place was on fire. “Who the hell is the decorator here?” She laughs and walks around as if she runs the place. Danielle had no religious beliefs but realizes soon that she may have been wrong in her thinking. These demons look as if they are in such pain, burning eternally, and for once in her life she is scared and worried she may not be able to act her way out of this mess. No sooner than she turns around she petrifies with fear, the most handsome man she had ever seen approaches her and strokes her hair, “Danielle Delacroix, welcome to my kingdom, this shall not be your home. In-fact, your job is much, much worse, you truly were a demon all along.” Danielle cowers to him for the first time in her life,”Please, please let me go, I'll do anything.” Satan smiles and continues “Dear Danielle you are to remain forever on earth. Your first assignment will be in New York, a place far worse than hell and you shall bring the souls of the lost to me. There are many and I expect you to keep your end of the bargain. You see those souls over there screaming in pain? Those are the ones that defied me, I suggest you don't do the same. And going forward you shall call me your master.” Shuddering at this point Danielle accepts and in an instance is teleported to the Apartnement on 13th Street with only a tiny device in her hand and no way to know how to make a living. “Damn this is hell,” she thinks to herself.
Other She has a love for pocket designer dogs, though she doesn’t have one yet she may in the future.
~Haunted~
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_10/Danielle.jpg.771505ae2ae44a5f3a69fb47efaa325f.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="31666" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_10/Danielle.jpg.771505ae2ae44a5f3a69fb47efaa325f.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
Name: Danielle Delacriox
Age: 32
Race: Caucasian
Sexuality: Hetero
Personality: Cold, conceited, methodical and unappreciative. She has no time to hear of anyone's problems and will nonchalantly walk away mid-conversation. A pure diva who could care less about anyone in her life, truly anyone. She tries not to speak to most people because she feels as if she's above them or they would want to talk about pursuits she simply doesn't care about. She takes the phrase “It's all about me' to a whole new level. She can be found shopping constantly and that is where she feels the most at home. Her one true love, material. She loves anything of value and will show it off in a grandeur fashion.
Bio: Danielle was born into stardom at an early age in Paris, France. Both of her parents were soap opera actors and fell in love on the set. Her childhood was that of privilege. She was afforded any doll she could dream of, any pony she wanted in her fathers stables, and a closet so large it could engulf the average master bedroom. Danielle never knew strife, but on the downside, she never cared about anyone who had. In grade school she was very popular wearing the trendiest clothes, prettiest in her class, and the biggest diva there. Because of her parents the other children swooned over here and Danielle felt a sense of entitlement, so she came to expect that behavior. If another child dared not worship her she would spread rumors and ultimately destroy that child. Danielle's home life was dysfunctional to put it mildly. Her mother would be found wearing short dresses and caked in makeup. Constantly her mother had a cigarette in her mouth held by a fancy cigarette holder made of pure ivory. Danielle rarely spoke to her mother because between social engagements, award shows, and rehearsing for the next show, she never gave Danielle a second. Her father was much of the same except he crossed over into feature films and was oftentimes living in a city called Los Angeles. Danielle had several hired hands and not a soul bothered to get to know her so as a consequence she grew into adulthood cold, unable to understand empathy or love towards one another. After her reign of terror in school she became an actress, forced upon her by her parents. Her mother was now a wash-up, a has-been and lives vicariously through Danielle. Her first role was about a poor nurse who was a struggling single mother and all the acting in the world couldn't make this role believable so she was released from the show. However, her mother's former soap opera picked her up and made her the villain of the show. A rich and uncaring woman who was materialistic. Danielle really had to stretch her acting there (yeah right). She was an overnight success. She adored by everyone. Her mailbox flowing with letter of praise and single men wishing to marry her. The tabloids followed her everywhere and the paparazzi and her had a wonderful working relationship. She ate up the stardom. She attended the most lavish parties, went to the most sought after and hard to get in clubs, and lived recklessly. Award show after award show she became more and more of a household name. After five years of being France's #1 starlet she made the move to Hollywood. There she learned (with much reluctance) proper American English and starred in many films. She had around sixteen blockbusters by the time she was thirty-two. By this time she was slowing down a little. She had never really dated anyone other than one night stands and never let anyone in. She started to feel empty. She became depressed. For about six months she lived with a depression she wanted nobody to know about, that is until the day she decided she wanted to die. Always being in control she wrote a letter telling her fans crap they would want to hear and she slit her wrists. The End, the grand finale. Danielle Delacroix was pronounced dead on arrival.
Powers/ Abilities: She is a soul collector and uses an ethereal device to channel lost souls into hell. She is a demon however she retained her beautiful outward appearance so that she may blend in amongst the humans.
Writing example: When she arrived in hell she looked around. It was horrible and the whole place was on fire. “Who the hell is the decorator here?” She laughs and walks around as if she runs the place. Danielle had no religious beliefs but realizes soon that she may have been wrong in her thinking. These demons look as if they are in such pain, burning eternally, and for once in her life she is scared and worried she may not be able to act her way out of this mess. No sooner than she turns around she petrifies with fear, the most handsome man she had ever seen approaches her and strokes her hair, “Danielle Delacroix, welcome to my kingdom, this shall not be your home. In-fact, your job is much, much worse, you truly were a demon all along.” Danielle cowers to him for the first time in her life,”Please, please let me go, I'll do anything.” Satan smiles and continues “Dear Danielle you are to remain forever on earth. Your first assignment will be in New York, a place far worse than hell and you shall bring the souls of the lost to me. There are many and I expect you to keep your end of the bargain. You see those souls over there screaming in pain? Those are the ones that defied me, I suggest you don't do the same. And going forward you shall call me your master.” Shuddering at this point Danielle accepts and in an instance is teleported to the Apartnement on 13th Street with only a tiny device in her hand and no way to know how to make a living. “Damn this is hell,” she thinks to herself.
Other She has a love for pocket designer dogs, though she doesn’t have one yet she may in the future.
~Haunted~
Attachments
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CrimsonEclipse
The One and Only
Appearance:
Name: Al'thuzar Khura'an
Age: It had been so long that he no longer counted it. He estimates that he is about 6 - 7 centuries old, maybe even a millennia or two.
Race: Wraith
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Personality: He is cold and distant, his years of existence making him into this. Because of the things he has witnessed, he finds it hard to trust anyone, especially humans. But, there are still a few whom he trusted, a few whom he calls friend. Though he may seem pessimistic and rude at times, he is full of knowledge and wisdom, and one would be wise to listen to what he is saying. He is brutally honest and straight forward, not hesitating to speak his mind. His patience is his most outstanding virtue. He is slow to anger, yet, once anger gets ahold of him, he is sadistic and cruel.
Bio: Al'thuzar had live for countless of generations, witnessing the rise and fall of kings, the truce and betrayal between kingdoms, friendship and backstabbing between friends, all of this he had seen, yet he chose not to take part in any of it. The beginning of Al'thuzar was a mystery, even to himself. He just knew he existed, anything before that was nothing, he only remembered his name.
Not knowing where to go and what to do, he decided to wander around, no destination in mind. He came across several towns and villages, but there have only been one reaction when they saw him, fear. It was the fear of the unknown that spurred the villagers and townspeople to drive him away. It was their fear of him that caused hate and anger against him, despite not having done anything wrong. He returned to the seclusion of the woods, the peace and quiet it had, the solitude it offered, but yet again, he felt lonely and longing. He wanted the company of a human, for they converse with each other and express their emotions, unlike the dumb and flat animals of the woods.
Again, he returned but this time, everything seemed, different. Gone were the small and simple villages and they were replaced with elaborate and grand castles, bustling and thriving towns. The Dark Ages have come. It was during this time that he realized an ability he had. He can go into the ethereal plane, making him invisible to the eyes of those in the mortal realm. But in this plane of existence, he cannot touch anything from the corporeal plane, nor can they touch him. He Haunted castles and manors, even normal houses, in hopes of finding the warmth and company he had always longed for, but still, he has yet to find it.
Centuries passed and still, he still felt hollow and meaningless, his life driven by no purpose at all. But somehow, he felt that there will come a time, a time when every thing will change, and all he has to do is wait. He then again started to wander, letting the wind lead him to where he is supposed to be. He traveled countless of miles, he rode on a ship to cross the vast ocean, and when the ship docked, he let his instinct take over. And it led him to the apartment on 13th street.
Powers/ Abilities: Al'thuzar is able to drink the emotion and dreams of people, which serves as both his sustenance and a means for him to feel somewhat human, allowing him to empathize with others, though there are also times when he hungers for flesh. His claws are long and sharp, allowing him to cut through wood with ease. He is able to go forth between the ethereal and corporeal plane. If he is ethereal, he is invulnerable to any physical contacts, but he cannot touch others as well, but he can slam doors shut, throw objects and affect his surroundings, but he can't touch a living thing. But, if he is in the corporeal, he can touch and feel living things, but they can also touch him, allowing them to kill him if they catch him off guard. He also has the uncanny ability of mimicking voices with little to no flaw, as well as to temporarily cloak himself in an illusion, making him appear human for a few minutes.
Writing example: Immortality, what a foolish dream. Humans, so foolish and naive, thinking that immortality is a gift but truth be told, it is a curse. While you stand there, young and fresh, forever youthful, the world around you crumbles and deteriorates. The people you have known and loved, grow old, a withered husk of their former selves. Who would want to see kingdoms fall? Who would love to witness an entire race slaughtered? No one should have the misfortune of seeing all of those, but unfortunately, there is one poor soul who've had the misfortune of witnessing all those horrors.
In all his days of existing, he saw nothing good in this life he was handed. He was cursed, who cursed him no one knows, to forever wander this world alone and tired. It had been so long, too long for him to even count, since he started this never ending journey of his. He went from one town to another, only to be faced with fear and hostility, the angry mob driving him away. If he learned one thing about humans, it is that they fear anything different, thy fear change. They claim to be advanced and progressive, and yet, they cannot even embrace the differences between themselves. He never saw one human who accepted him, who saw beyond his difference.
He has considered to end his existence generations ago, and yet, he couldn't seem to bring himself to do it. He felt as though there is something waiting, something grand and great, which could either be evil or good. He doesn't know what will happen or when it will happen, he just knows something will happen. He sighed, looking beyond the horizon. "I guess I'll just have to wait." He said to himself, once more embarking a never ending journey, a journey with no destination and possibly no end, but a journey nevertheless.
Other
Age: It had been so long that he no longer counted it. He estimates that he is about 6 - 7 centuries old, maybe even a millennia or two.
Race: Wraith
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Personality: He is cold and distant, his years of existence making him into this. Because of the things he has witnessed, he finds it hard to trust anyone, especially humans. But, there are still a few whom he trusted, a few whom he calls friend. Though he may seem pessimistic and rude at times, he is full of knowledge and wisdom, and one would be wise to listen to what he is saying. He is brutally honest and straight forward, not hesitating to speak his mind. His patience is his most outstanding virtue. He is slow to anger, yet, once anger gets ahold of him, he is sadistic and cruel.
Bio: Al'thuzar had live for countless of generations, witnessing the rise and fall of kings, the truce and betrayal between kingdoms, friendship and backstabbing between friends, all of this he had seen, yet he chose not to take part in any of it. The beginning of Al'thuzar was a mystery, even to himself. He just knew he existed, anything before that was nothing, he only remembered his name.
Not knowing where to go and what to do, he decided to wander around, no destination in mind. He came across several towns and villages, but there have only been one reaction when they saw him, fear. It was the fear of the unknown that spurred the villagers and townspeople to drive him away. It was their fear of him that caused hate and anger against him, despite not having done anything wrong. He returned to the seclusion of the woods, the peace and quiet it had, the solitude it offered, but yet again, he felt lonely and longing. He wanted the company of a human, for they converse with each other and express their emotions, unlike the dumb and flat animals of the woods.
Again, he returned but this time, everything seemed, different. Gone were the small and simple villages and they were replaced with elaborate and grand castles, bustling and thriving towns. The Dark Ages have come. It was during this time that he realized an ability he had. He can go into the ethereal plane, making him invisible to the eyes of those in the mortal realm. But in this plane of existence, he cannot touch anything from the corporeal plane, nor can they touch him. He Haunted castles and manors, even normal houses, in hopes of finding the warmth and company he had always longed for, but still, he has yet to find it.
Centuries passed and still, he still felt hollow and meaningless, his life driven by no purpose at all. But somehow, he felt that there will come a time, a time when every thing will change, and all he has to do is wait. He then again started to wander, letting the wind lead him to where he is supposed to be. He traveled countless of miles, he rode on a ship to cross the vast ocean, and when the ship docked, he let his instinct take over. And it led him to the apartment on 13th street.
Powers/ Abilities: Al'thuzar is able to drink the emotion and dreams of people, which serves as both his sustenance and a means for him to feel somewhat human, allowing him to empathize with others, though there are also times when he hungers for flesh. His claws are long and sharp, allowing him to cut through wood with ease. He is able to go forth between the ethereal and corporeal plane. If he is ethereal, he is invulnerable to any physical contacts, but he cannot touch others as well, but he can slam doors shut, throw objects and affect his surroundings, but he can't touch a living thing. But, if he is in the corporeal, he can touch and feel living things, but they can also touch him, allowing them to kill him if they catch him off guard. He also has the uncanny ability of mimicking voices with little to no flaw, as well as to temporarily cloak himself in an illusion, making him appear human for a few minutes.
Writing example: Immortality, what a foolish dream. Humans, so foolish and naive, thinking that immortality is a gift but truth be told, it is a curse. While you stand there, young and fresh, forever youthful, the world around you crumbles and deteriorates. The people you have known and loved, grow old, a withered husk of their former selves. Who would want to see kingdoms fall? Who would love to witness an entire race slaughtered? No one should have the misfortune of seeing all of those, but unfortunately, there is one poor soul who've had the misfortune of witnessing all those horrors.
In all his days of existing, he saw nothing good in this life he was handed. He was cursed, who cursed him no one knows, to forever wander this world alone and tired. It had been so long, too long for him to even count, since he started this never ending journey of his. He went from one town to another, only to be faced with fear and hostility, the angry mob driving him away. If he learned one thing about humans, it is that they fear anything different, thy fear change. They claim to be advanced and progressive, and yet, they cannot even embrace the differences between themselves. He never saw one human who accepted him, who saw beyond his difference.
He has considered to end his existence generations ago, and yet, he couldn't seem to bring himself to do it. He felt as though there is something waiting, something grand and great, which could either be evil or good. He doesn't know what will happen or when it will happen, he just knows something will happen. He sighed, looking beyond the horizon. "I guess I'll just have to wait." He said to himself, once more embarking a never ending journey, a journey with no destination and possibly no end, but a journey nevertheless.
Other
jinkx
amateur sleuth
W. I. P
Appearance: Mitsuki is a tall Japanese girl with a reasonably slim frame. She has hair that falls in subtle waves just past her shoulders. She normally has doodles of hearts and stars on the inside of her wrists. She likes to wear lots of soft colours and long sweaters that fall past her knees. She always wears glasses, never contact lenses.
Name: Mitsuki Yoshida
Age: Nineteen
Race: Human
Sexuality: Bisexual
Personality:
Mitsuki considerably quiet. She's also very intelligent. She prides herself on her good English, that she worked hard to learn. She is quietly confident, though some would say shy. She doesn't want to upset anyone so she generally keeps her opinions to herself. She is also a little sad sometimes because she feels her life is pointless and unexciting.
Biography:
Mitsuki was born in Tokyo, Japan, nineteen years ago. When she was nine, Mitsuki was signed to a record company and joined an idol group, where she made many friends. She very much enjoyed her time as an idol- she loved the group like family and was like an older sister to them. When her family moved to Wiscounsin, America, Mitsuki was pulled from the group and this upset her deeply. She didn't like losing all the friends that she'd made and she didn't like the idea that she wouldn't be performing anymore. What was she supposed to do with her time?
Her family moved to America when she was fourteen years old. It was a big change for Mitsuki. When she first moved, she knew very, very little English. She was pretty much shunned throughout high school. Nobody bullied her or even spoke to her; she was just there. Regardless, she passed her exams with flying colours and finally grasped English. She lived with her parents a while longer, fufilling her passion to be a writer by publishing short stories in a local magazine. After a while, she realised that she was more interested in real life stories than fiction.
At just nineteen years old, Mitsuki moved to New York to study journalism. It was a career choice that she had never considered before and she found herself to be enjoying it. She now writes a small column in a controversial newspaper, where she writes about inspirational people from around the world. She gets payed a substantial amount for it.
She very much enjoys her quiet life in The Hotel, New York. But she can't help wishing that it was a little more interesting.
Abilities:
Mitsuki has a sixth sense. Not a particularly good one, mind you. Whenever something bad is going to happen, she tends to feel rather unnerved and her skin prickles. She also gets headaches if she's near a particularly bad place. Ever since she's moved into The Hotel, she's had on and off headaches. She blames this purely on New York traffic and staring at her computer screen for too long.
Writing example:
What was she doing, living in the past? It wasn't doing her any good at all and staring at a screen for hours on end certainly wasn't doing her headache any favours. Mitsuki was sat upright in bed, on her laptop. She was supposed to be writing her newest column. Instead, she was looking at the website for her old idol group. Why? She wasn't sure. Whilst she liked idoling, she'd never had a passion for it like the other girls she knew. She certainly didn't want to idol again. And yet, she was on the site.
In all truth, she was just curious as to what had happened to the group after she'd left. Very few people that she knew were still in the group. But seeing their faces brought back happy memories. Mitsuki shut her laptop with a sigh. What was she doing? She didn't even know.
She got out of bed and stared at herself in the mirror for a few moments. She didn't look sick, she decided. She didn't look any paler. Yet, her head was pounding. With another sign, she went into the bathroom to find an aspirin. She found the box in the cupboard above the sink. She shook it, hopefully. Empty. She'd need to buy some new aspirin, if these headaches insisted. And maybe see a doctor.
She splashed some water on her face to keep her awake. She'd been awake all night "working". She went into the kitchen and made herself a cup of coffee, as strong as she dared. She sipped it slowly, staring down at it and wondering where her life had gone. It seemed just yesterday that she was nine years old and nervous about her first idol audition. Now, she was a nineteen year old column writer, living alone in New York. Aside from the other people in the building. She sometimes wondered if she was still living in Japan or still living with her parents or even if she had a roommate, whether she'd be happier. She felt lonely sometimes. She readjusted her glasses.
Then, Mitsuki took herself back to bed with her coffee in hand. Her life was very comfortable certainly, headaches aside. But it seemed so pointless. Everything she was doing... Seemed so very dull. She sipped her coffee and opened her laptop again. With one last glance at the site, she closed her browser down and returned to her column. Living in the past was pointless. But so was everything else she was doing.
Other: Haunted.
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clarinetti
Spectre
Appearance:
Name: Nathan Waters
Age: 27
Race: Human?
Sexuality: Flexible, usually prefers women
Personality: Pragmatic would be the best word to describe Nathan. He knows what he wants to accomplish in life and he's willing to do whatever it takes to get there. Naturally quick-witted, he often finds success when applying himself, which may result in him becoming cocky. Despite this, he usually doesn't allow personal feelings or thoughts to cloud his judgement on important matters, and is hardly one to sugarcoat or provide comforting lies over giving his honest opinion.
Kindness is subjective, and whether he is genuinely a nice person depends on who you ask. While he is always polite to strangers, he won't go out of his way to help them unless it furthers his own agenda in some way. When it comes to the people he is close with, he is generally more considerate and tries his best to be there for them whenever possible. However, at the end of day, his top priority is himself, and his moments of selfishness sometimes detract from what kindness he does show.
Bio: The only child of a doctor and a stay at home mom, Nathan spent most of his childhood in Malone, New York. He played soccer and had a couple friends, but preferred to spend his time reading. He was always a top student, and some of the kids teased him for being a nerd, but he usually ignored them and kept his nose in a book. This became harder in middle school, as most boys his age were into sports and video games while he spent his days reading or with his paternal grandmother cooking or gardening, the latter becoming a particular hobby of his. He was occasionally harassed by his peers (It didn't help that he wasn't afraid to talk back to them), so he became very much a recluse and spent his recesses in the library.
The summer before starting high school, with his mother planning to return to work as a pedorthist and his father being offered a transfer, the family moved away from their extended family to Albany, NY. At the start of the year, he (With much pushing from his mother) joined a few clubs, particularly the debate team and the school newspaper. While some people were repelled by his sharp tongue and stoic behavior, he found others who were as clever as himself, and through many debates and rants became friends with some of his fellow students.
Upon graduating, Nathan attended Columbia University where he studied International Affairs, specializing in Conflict Resolution and Global Economics. It was during this time that he became close with fellow student Sarah Barbieri, whom he had met through the newspaper in high school. Despite their varying interests, the two of them got along unusually well, and managed to stay in contact beyond graduation. Shortly after completing his degree he successfully applied for a volunteer program with the UN in New York, and is currently working as a paid intern within the organization.
While Nathan has always been perceptive of people's emotions, it's only in the past year or two that he's realized he can influence the feelings of others. Similarly, his particularly acute senses have become more prominent over the years, to the point where he needs medication to sleep. He's kept these 'abilities' to himself more or less, his roommate being the only one to have any significant knowledge on the topic.
Powers/ Abilities: Empathy, Heightened Senses
Writing example: He hates nights like this.
He had never been a heavy sleeper growing up, waking up from the creaking of a door or the footsteps of his parents trying to quietly walk past his room. This problem had only gotten worse when he started University (Was that really almost a decade ago? God, he felt old just thinking about it). But these days, he would find himself up all night trying to block out the ever present whooshing of cars in the streets, the slurred mutterings of a drunk walking home, the footsteps of the other tenants, the water flowing through the building pipes... all of it just resulting in this constant cacophony of sound which never failed to disrupt his rest.
That's why he has the Doxepin tablets- most of the time he can pop a few pills and his senses are numbed enough that he can get a decent night's sleep. Sure, it makes his mornings miserable and the doctor's keep warning him about the risks of addiction (Too late for that), but at least his mind can be shut off for a few hours and he can rest in relative peace. But there are always those times where the drugs don't quite do the job, and he's left in a state of semi-consciousness, dying to slip away to sleep, but awake enough to hear the guy walking on the rooftop and the snoring of his roommate. He wishes he had the energy to get up and tell the other tenant to quit stomping about, but he knows what getting up would only wake himself up further. So he resolves to lie there, internally counting down the minutes until the drugs wear off, the sky lightens, and he has to get ready for work.
Appearance:
Name: Sarah Barbieri
Age: 28
Race: Human
Sexuality: Straight
Personality: Driven would be the first thing that comes to mind when describing Sarah. Her passion for life coupled with her ambition to be independent has given her a strong work ethic, and with it a degree of stubbornness. While she is frequently exhausted and overwhelmed by the amount of work she has to do, she more often than not perseveres through it (Though there are instances where she procrastinates and ultimately 'drops the ball', which never bodes well). Furthermore, her emotions can get the best of her sometimes, and her constant fatigue and anxiety can result in her being uncharacteristically snappy with others.
Generally, Sarah is an optimistic and well-intentioned person. She likes to help people when she can, and is often willing to listen to others and offer advice when able. While hardly a temperamental individual, she doesn't appreciate being treated as a 'doormat', and will make it clear when needed. She tries to be honest as much as possible, but has told a few white lies when she thinks it is necessary. Ultimately, she values her family and friends deeply, and struggles to balance her desire to be there for them with what she needs to do for herself.
Bio: Growing up was a rather mediocre affair for Sarah. She was an energetic, happy go lucky kid that lived in the same house in the suburbs of Albany throughout her school years, her mother raising her and her two brothers (One older, one younger). When she was young, her father was often away on business, and over time her parents grew apart until they had decided to separate while she was in elementary school. It had been sad, but that's what lots of children deal with these days, so it didn't seem particularly odd or devastating to her. She tried plenty of activities over the years, but nothing stuck with her.
She went through middle school much like elementary school- she got good grades(Excluding math and history), joined the school band as a saxophone player, and friends came and went like fads. Most of the people she hung out with were guys, as while she wasn't a tomboy, she preferred playing video games to talking about clothes and tween pop stars. Little changed in high school- her interests diversified, and she started reading and writing short stories along with playing in the band. This led to her joining the newspaper and meeting Nathan Waters, whom she briefly had a crush on before she got to know him, resulting in the two becoming good acquaintances.
Initially, she went to Columbia with the intention of becoming a journalist, but early in her first year she realized that writing was not the thing she hoped to make a career out of. After a semester of indecision and doubt, she decided to try out the music program, where she eventually adapted to the workload and excelled academically. She did equally well upon travelling to Yale to complete a Master's Degree with a scholarship, however, she has struggled to find employment since then. She is currently working full-time at a call center while applying to any internships or commissions available (This brings a great deal of stress and frustration to her, and she's debated whether or not to give up making her passion a career).
During her time at Columbia, she was reacquainted with Nathan, and the two gradually built up a strong friendship. They remained in contact when Nathan went to New York and Sarah to New Haven, and once she graduated, the two of them agreed to get an apartment together. She is aware of Nathan's 'gifts', but she doesn't pry on the matter and will only speak of it if he brings it up.
Powers/ Abilities: N/A
Writing example: "She is not going to be late, she is not going to be late."
This is the mantra Sarah repeats in her head as she weaves through the maze of cars, buses and trucks on her bike. Part of her wishes that she had not agreed when one of her co-workers, whose name always slipped her mind, had called to ask if she could cover their morning shift. After all, her next shift wasn't supposed to be until tonight, and she had had a late evening of tidying the kitchen (She had been the one to make a mess of it after all) and working on that composition proposal for the Chamber Orchestra. But she knows that if she wants to make a payment to her student loan this month, she has to pick up at least three more shifts.
"F**k." she mutters as the bus in front of her starts turning to the curb, effectively cutting her off and forcing her to slip around it onto the line, where a wall of cars pass by her with only inches to spare. She wishes she could check her phone in her pocket to see how much time she has, but taking her eyes off the road is suicide, so she just keeps pedalling, her thighs groaning all the while. Six blocks and two near accidents later, she finally spots the bleak concrete skyscraper where the call center lies. Cutting across the lane and onto the sidewalk, she almost stumbles getting off the metal contraption while leading it to the rack. Hastily wrapping the lock around the front wheel, she finally get a glimpse at the time before cursing and rushing into the building.
Haunted
(I hope it's ok I did two characters- if it's a problem, let me know).
Name: Nathan Waters
Age: 27
Race: Human?
Sexuality: Flexible, usually prefers women
Personality: Pragmatic would be the best word to describe Nathan. He knows what he wants to accomplish in life and he's willing to do whatever it takes to get there. Naturally quick-witted, he often finds success when applying himself, which may result in him becoming cocky. Despite this, he usually doesn't allow personal feelings or thoughts to cloud his judgement on important matters, and is hardly one to sugarcoat or provide comforting lies over giving his honest opinion.
Kindness is subjective, and whether he is genuinely a nice person depends on who you ask. While he is always polite to strangers, he won't go out of his way to help them unless it furthers his own agenda in some way. When it comes to the people he is close with, he is generally more considerate and tries his best to be there for them whenever possible. However, at the end of day, his top priority is himself, and his moments of selfishness sometimes detract from what kindness he does show.
Bio: The only child of a doctor and a stay at home mom, Nathan spent most of his childhood in Malone, New York. He played soccer and had a couple friends, but preferred to spend his time reading. He was always a top student, and some of the kids teased him for being a nerd, but he usually ignored them and kept his nose in a book. This became harder in middle school, as most boys his age were into sports and video games while he spent his days reading or with his paternal grandmother cooking or gardening, the latter becoming a particular hobby of his. He was occasionally harassed by his peers (It didn't help that he wasn't afraid to talk back to them), so he became very much a recluse and spent his recesses in the library.
The summer before starting high school, with his mother planning to return to work as a pedorthist and his father being offered a transfer, the family moved away from their extended family to Albany, NY. At the start of the year, he (With much pushing from his mother) joined a few clubs, particularly the debate team and the school newspaper. While some people were repelled by his sharp tongue and stoic behavior, he found others who were as clever as himself, and through many debates and rants became friends with some of his fellow students.
Upon graduating, Nathan attended Columbia University where he studied International Affairs, specializing in Conflict Resolution and Global Economics. It was during this time that he became close with fellow student Sarah Barbieri, whom he had met through the newspaper in high school. Despite their varying interests, the two of them got along unusually well, and managed to stay in contact beyond graduation. Shortly after completing his degree he successfully applied for a volunteer program with the UN in New York, and is currently working as a paid intern within the organization.
While Nathan has always been perceptive of people's emotions, it's only in the past year or two that he's realized he can influence the feelings of others. Similarly, his particularly acute senses have become more prominent over the years, to the point where he needs medication to sleep. He's kept these 'abilities' to himself more or less, his roommate being the only one to have any significant knowledge on the topic.
Powers/ Abilities: Empathy, Heightened Senses
Writing example: He hates nights like this.
He had never been a heavy sleeper growing up, waking up from the creaking of a door or the footsteps of his parents trying to quietly walk past his room. This problem had only gotten worse when he started University (Was that really almost a decade ago? God, he felt old just thinking about it). But these days, he would find himself up all night trying to block out the ever present whooshing of cars in the streets, the slurred mutterings of a drunk walking home, the footsteps of the other tenants, the water flowing through the building pipes... all of it just resulting in this constant cacophony of sound which never failed to disrupt his rest.
That's why he has the Doxepin tablets- most of the time he can pop a few pills and his senses are numbed enough that he can get a decent night's sleep. Sure, it makes his mornings miserable and the doctor's keep warning him about the risks of addiction (Too late for that), but at least his mind can be shut off for a few hours and he can rest in relative peace. But there are always those times where the drugs don't quite do the job, and he's left in a state of semi-consciousness, dying to slip away to sleep, but awake enough to hear the guy walking on the rooftop and the snoring of his roommate. He wishes he had the energy to get up and tell the other tenant to quit stomping about, but he knows what getting up would only wake himself up further. So he resolves to lie there, internally counting down the minutes until the drugs wear off, the sky lightens, and he has to get ready for work.
Appearance:
Name: Sarah Barbieri
Age: 28
Race: Human
Sexuality: Straight
Personality: Driven would be the first thing that comes to mind when describing Sarah. Her passion for life coupled with her ambition to be independent has given her a strong work ethic, and with it a degree of stubbornness. While she is frequently exhausted and overwhelmed by the amount of work she has to do, she more often than not perseveres through it (Though there are instances where she procrastinates and ultimately 'drops the ball', which never bodes well). Furthermore, her emotions can get the best of her sometimes, and her constant fatigue and anxiety can result in her being uncharacteristically snappy with others.
Generally, Sarah is an optimistic and well-intentioned person. She likes to help people when she can, and is often willing to listen to others and offer advice when able. While hardly a temperamental individual, she doesn't appreciate being treated as a 'doormat', and will make it clear when needed. She tries to be honest as much as possible, but has told a few white lies when she thinks it is necessary. Ultimately, she values her family and friends deeply, and struggles to balance her desire to be there for them with what she needs to do for herself.
Bio: Growing up was a rather mediocre affair for Sarah. She was an energetic, happy go lucky kid that lived in the same house in the suburbs of Albany throughout her school years, her mother raising her and her two brothers (One older, one younger). When she was young, her father was often away on business, and over time her parents grew apart until they had decided to separate while she was in elementary school. It had been sad, but that's what lots of children deal with these days, so it didn't seem particularly odd or devastating to her. She tried plenty of activities over the years, but nothing stuck with her.
She went through middle school much like elementary school- she got good grades(Excluding math and history), joined the school band as a saxophone player, and friends came and went like fads. Most of the people she hung out with were guys, as while she wasn't a tomboy, she preferred playing video games to talking about clothes and tween pop stars. Little changed in high school- her interests diversified, and she started reading and writing short stories along with playing in the band. This led to her joining the newspaper and meeting Nathan Waters, whom she briefly had a crush on before she got to know him, resulting in the two becoming good acquaintances.
Initially, she went to Columbia with the intention of becoming a journalist, but early in her first year she realized that writing was not the thing she hoped to make a career out of. After a semester of indecision and doubt, she decided to try out the music program, where she eventually adapted to the workload and excelled academically. She did equally well upon travelling to Yale to complete a Master's Degree with a scholarship, however, she has struggled to find employment since then. She is currently working full-time at a call center while applying to any internships or commissions available (This brings a great deal of stress and frustration to her, and she's debated whether or not to give up making her passion a career).
During her time at Columbia, she was reacquainted with Nathan, and the two gradually built up a strong friendship. They remained in contact when Nathan went to New York and Sarah to New Haven, and once she graduated, the two of them agreed to get an apartment together. She is aware of Nathan's 'gifts', but she doesn't pry on the matter and will only speak of it if he brings it up.
Powers/ Abilities: N/A
Writing example: "She is not going to be late, she is not going to be late."
This is the mantra Sarah repeats in her head as she weaves through the maze of cars, buses and trucks on her bike. Part of her wishes that she had not agreed when one of her co-workers, whose name always slipped her mind, had called to ask if she could cover their morning shift. After all, her next shift wasn't supposed to be until tonight, and she had had a late evening of tidying the kitchen (She had been the one to make a mess of it after all) and working on that composition proposal for the Chamber Orchestra. But she knows that if she wants to make a payment to her student loan this month, she has to pick up at least three more shifts.
"F**k." she mutters as the bus in front of her starts turning to the curb, effectively cutting her off and forcing her to slip around it onto the line, where a wall of cars pass by her with only inches to spare. She wishes she could check her phone in her pocket to see how much time she has, but taking her eyes off the road is suicide, so she just keeps pedalling, her thighs groaning all the while. Six blocks and two near accidents later, she finally spots the bleak concrete skyscraper where the call center lies. Cutting across the lane and onto the sidewalk, she almost stumbles getting off the metal contraption while leading it to the rack. Hastily wrapping the lock around the front wheel, she finally get a glimpse at the time before cursing and rushing into the building.
Haunted
(I hope it's ok I did two characters- if it's a problem, let me know).
yistae
Ruler of friendly sharks
Appearance:
This is what he looks like most of the time so humans can see him, but he can also look like a small child with black hair, pale white skin, and the same electric blue eyes as when he's a cat. When in his natural state where only other spirits or the rare human can see him, he looks like an older version of the child, only about 25 or so.
Name: Kurt. Has a few others that humans might call him, and the collar some of the tenants put on him says "Lucky".
Age: Doesn't really know, but about three and a half centuries. Been in the building for forty one years.
Race: A house spirit. Specifically a kobold.
Sexuality: Pansexual
Personality: He's mischievous by nature and loves to play pranks on the tenants of the building, but wouldn't dare to harm any of them. He is the protecting spirit of the building and is loyal to the tenants, helping out with small things when they get busy or if they offer him rewards (mostly in the form of food and shelter). Even though he can speak, he doesn't do it very often with humans since most of them don't believe he's anything other than a cat, and with other creatures he doesn't talk to them because a lot of times they're malicious. If someone is friendly to him he is friendly back, and is quite the conversationalist when he gets to talk to someone.
Bio: Kurt is a house spirit, and was from an old German home originally. He's not sure how he came to be, just that he was. Back then the house owners knew he was real and treated him with respect, allowing him into the home and repaying him with little gifts when he did any chores. When the couple moved out, Kurt followed them, bound to them by some unsaid contract.
Several generations passed, with Kurt following the same family descendants and them forgetting he was even there. It turned him bitter and he started acting more malevolent for being forgotten. He haunted the family more, breaking things, causing food to go bad, the garden to die. A priest was called a few years later when the "strange happenings" didn't stop and they performed an exorcism. It'd didn't kill Kurt, but it broke the bond between him and the family.
Now free to do as he wanted, Kurt took on the form of a cat and went into the city. He knew he wouldn't be able to survive on his own, so he went to find someplace that would take him in. It rained one day, and as he was passing a new apartment building, a little girl saw him and took him inside. They fed him and dried him off, and when they took him to the landlady of the building, she made him the residential pet. He was given his own bed by the front desk and free reign over all the floors, and once again was bound to protect. He didn't move with the people like he had before, instead staying with the building and calling it home. None of the residents are still around from when he first showed up, but the old landlady's daughter took over and now she herself is an old woman. There's still a pillow kept on the front desk for him to rest on, and the landlady always seems to give him knowing smiles when no one else is around.
Powers/ Abilities: He's invisible to humans most of the time, and when he manifests he appears as a cat or a small child. Has the power of telekinesis, which has gotten him mistaken for a poltergeist several times. He can also tell where every person in the building is when they're inside, and can tell when someone enters or exits it. He's not able to leave the property, extreme pain taking over if he tries to leave the boundaries.
Writing example:
Walking down the street, Kurt was cursing every possible thing he could. He cursed the exorcist for undoing his bind, the family for forgetting him, himself for manifesting as a cat, and the stupid rain for being, well, rain. He sneezed, water droplets flying off his ears, then glared at the ground and picked up his pace. His tail was drooping behind him and ears pinned back, and he didn't even want to think about what he must look like. 'A drowned rat,' he though to himself miserably, picking up his pace even more as the rain came down harder, hitting his soaked coat like pellets.
Since he was busy moping around, Kurt didn't see the girl until she was right in front if him. Both stopped and stared at the other, ignoring the rain for the moment. The girl had light hair that reminded Kurt of gold, and muddy brown eyes. She had an umbrella over her, so she was protected from the rain. A flash of jealousy went through Kurt, but vanished just as fast as it had come. She was a child, and plus he wasn't able to get sick like humans or other mortal creatures. The girl bent down, sitting on her heels so she was closer to Kurt's level. Neither made any attempt to break the silence. Kurt was about to walk away when the girl suddenly put the umbrella over him, protecting him from the rain and letting it fall on her. He blinked, then walked over and stood closer to her. The girl moved the umbrella to follow him, and they were now both under it. The child smiled at this and stood up, careful to keep the protection over both of them, and started walking down the street. "Come on," she said to Kurt, looking down at him and smiling. "I know a place where you can be dry and safe." Kurt did follow, trailing right on her heels until they got to a new looking apartment building. The girl told him to wait, and he did, sitting on the top step in the rain and watching for the girl through the glass door. A few minutes passed, and the girl came back, grinning and carrying a towel with her. She scooped Kurt up in the warm towel and started drying him, carrying him into the apartment lobby where a young couple and an older woman were waiting, watching the girl and cat with smiles. Kurt looked up at the girl and started purring, knowing that if he spoke he would ruin any chance he had. The girl giggled and her smiled widened, and she said two words that changed Kurt's life from then on; "Welcome home."
Other: Haunted
(This ok?)
This is what he looks like most of the time so humans can see him, but he can also look like a small child with black hair, pale white skin, and the same electric blue eyes as when he's a cat. When in his natural state where only other spirits or the rare human can see him, he looks like an older version of the child, only about 25 or so.
Name: Kurt. Has a few others that humans might call him, and the collar some of the tenants put on him says "Lucky".
Age: Doesn't really know, but about three and a half centuries. Been in the building for forty one years.
Race: A house spirit. Specifically a kobold.
Sexuality: Pansexual
Personality: He's mischievous by nature and loves to play pranks on the tenants of the building, but wouldn't dare to harm any of them. He is the protecting spirit of the building and is loyal to the tenants, helping out with small things when they get busy or if they offer him rewards (mostly in the form of food and shelter). Even though he can speak, he doesn't do it very often with humans since most of them don't believe he's anything other than a cat, and with other creatures he doesn't talk to them because a lot of times they're malicious. If someone is friendly to him he is friendly back, and is quite the conversationalist when he gets to talk to someone.
Bio: Kurt is a house spirit, and was from an old German home originally. He's not sure how he came to be, just that he was. Back then the house owners knew he was real and treated him with respect, allowing him into the home and repaying him with little gifts when he did any chores. When the couple moved out, Kurt followed them, bound to them by some unsaid contract.
Several generations passed, with Kurt following the same family descendants and them forgetting he was even there. It turned him bitter and he started acting more malevolent for being forgotten. He haunted the family more, breaking things, causing food to go bad, the garden to die. A priest was called a few years later when the "strange happenings" didn't stop and they performed an exorcism. It'd didn't kill Kurt, but it broke the bond between him and the family.
Now free to do as he wanted, Kurt took on the form of a cat and went into the city. He knew he wouldn't be able to survive on his own, so he went to find someplace that would take him in. It rained one day, and as he was passing a new apartment building, a little girl saw him and took him inside. They fed him and dried him off, and when they took him to the landlady of the building, she made him the residential pet. He was given his own bed by the front desk and free reign over all the floors, and once again was bound to protect. He didn't move with the people like he had before, instead staying with the building and calling it home. None of the residents are still around from when he first showed up, but the old landlady's daughter took over and now she herself is an old woman. There's still a pillow kept on the front desk for him to rest on, and the landlady always seems to give him knowing smiles when no one else is around.
Powers/ Abilities: He's invisible to humans most of the time, and when he manifests he appears as a cat or a small child. Has the power of telekinesis, which has gotten him mistaken for a poltergeist several times. He can also tell where every person in the building is when they're inside, and can tell when someone enters or exits it. He's not able to leave the property, extreme pain taking over if he tries to leave the boundaries.
Writing example:
Walking down the street, Kurt was cursing every possible thing he could. He cursed the exorcist for undoing his bind, the family for forgetting him, himself for manifesting as a cat, and the stupid rain for being, well, rain. He sneezed, water droplets flying off his ears, then glared at the ground and picked up his pace. His tail was drooping behind him and ears pinned back, and he didn't even want to think about what he must look like. 'A drowned rat,' he though to himself miserably, picking up his pace even more as the rain came down harder, hitting his soaked coat like pellets.
Since he was busy moping around, Kurt didn't see the girl until she was right in front if him. Both stopped and stared at the other, ignoring the rain for the moment. The girl had light hair that reminded Kurt of gold, and muddy brown eyes. She had an umbrella over her, so she was protected from the rain. A flash of jealousy went through Kurt, but vanished just as fast as it had come. She was a child, and plus he wasn't able to get sick like humans or other mortal creatures. The girl bent down, sitting on her heels so she was closer to Kurt's level. Neither made any attempt to break the silence. Kurt was about to walk away when the girl suddenly put the umbrella over him, protecting him from the rain and letting it fall on her. He blinked, then walked over and stood closer to her. The girl moved the umbrella to follow him, and they were now both under it. The child smiled at this and stood up, careful to keep the protection over both of them, and started walking down the street. "Come on," she said to Kurt, looking down at him and smiling. "I know a place where you can be dry and safe." Kurt did follow, trailing right on her heels until they got to a new looking apartment building. The girl told him to wait, and he did, sitting on the top step in the rain and watching for the girl through the glass door. A few minutes passed, and the girl came back, grinning and carrying a towel with her. She scooped Kurt up in the warm towel and started drying him, carrying him into the apartment lobby where a young couple and an older woman were waiting, watching the girl and cat with smiles. Kurt looked up at the girl and started purring, knowing that if he spoke he would ruin any chance he had. The girl giggled and her smiled widened, and she said two words that changed Kurt's life from then on; "Welcome home."
Other: Haunted
(This ok?)
clarinetti
Spectre
Ahh, sorry about that :l... hopefully these shall work.Icefox11 said:
Nathan Waters
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_10/upload_2014-10-12_0-9-2.jpeg.6b31195408ae79d49ccf026fa5784a8f.jpeg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="31738" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_10/upload_2014-10-12_0-9-2.jpeg.6b31195408ae79d49ccf026fa5784a8f.jpeg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
Sarah Barbieri
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_10/upload_2014-10-12_0-7-43.jpeg.59e3850bf03562d25e0100139da51c86.jpeg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="31737" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_10/upload_2014-10-12_0-7-43.jpeg.59e3850bf03562d25e0100139da51c86.jpeg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
Attachments
jinkx
amateur sleuth
I edited it. Is it okay now that she's seveteen, nearly eighteen? Or is that just as bad?Icefox11 said:
IceQueen
The Clawed Fauni
Everyone would be probably close to 20. But 18 is fine if she is in collage.
eheu
Chief Defenestrator
Appearance:
Not extraordinary tall at 6’2’’, yet the man’s well-built frame often imposes a rather intimidating presence as a first impression. That impression, however, is almost always immediately cancelled by one of his warm, wide smiles; or the trademark roaring laughter.
Julian’s typical getup consists mainly of button-down shirts and trousers, maybe toss on a jacket on a colder day. He forever refuses to wear the shirt tidily, but more often than not will have parts of it tucked into his trousers just to show the effort.
Name:
Julian E. Laurence
Age:
34 (alleged)
Race:
Human. At least for now.
Sexuality:
(Assumed) Heterosexual.
Personality:
If you speak of a Julian Laurence to anyone in the neighbourhood, you would likely invariably receive the “aaaaaah that person” response. You will also be provided a very consistent set of descriptions: that he was mostly friendly, helpful, generous. He was a good man, put in simple terms; and a rather well-respected member of the society.
Julian is a rather pleasant person to be around. With him, one can be comfortable around without knowing him well enough, yet won’t need to tolerate unknowingly discomforting comments under the guise of friendly mischievousness when they grew close. Julian is polite to friends and strangers alike, but never to a degree that appears distant or condescending. He jokes, but never at the expense of anyone’s feelings; he drinks, with friends and other affiliates, but only healthily.
He cares for the weak, and never hesitates to speak up against the powerful when they were unrightful. He takes to great lengths following the path of the righteous.
Maybe a bit too far, actually. Some said that the only thing that kept his personality from being perfect was his judgement and how much he stressed it. If one was wronged and Julian knows of it he would do anything to ensure that he saw it corrected be it within his power. On the other hand, however, if one is falsely accused by Julian to have committed some act of disgrace - it is of one’s worst fortune that one will have to go through trying to clear it up for him. Julian can be especially stubborn concerning these issues - his black-and-white morality allows no middle ground, and things like this bothered him to no end. He was one of those people who one could just imagine having a giant book that listed rules and guidelines that covered each and every possible circumstance in life and detailing what is right to do and what is wrong, and what is acceptable and what is not; and it’s harder than anything to convince him that any one of those rules needs modifying, or that what really is happening isn’t what he thinks is happening. It’s easy to realize that that his judgement isn’t always precise would pose rather troubling a problem. There’s a saying that the nicest people are also the scariest bastards when they get angry - and that definitely applies here. (Though, of course, if one eventually managed to make him realize his mistake - do expect the sincerest of personal apologies from him, perhaps including a treat to a drink, or dinner.)
Julian appears to be rather religious, and could be seen sitting silently at the back row of the local church every time, and seems to never fall asleep no matter how particularly bland what the pastor was speaking about that week happened to be. It also seems that he has his own ideas about the topics as well - in conversation it is occasionally noticeable that he knows a great deal of theology - and at a bit more detail than people usually expect. Sometimes it almost seems like he knew all those figures in the scriptures personally, him taking mention of their character, personality, and various miscellanea that leads one to wonder how exactly he came to know of these things.
Bio (& Writing Example):
His approachableness makes it easy to forget this fact, but it seems that even the people he was closest with could produce no answers when it came to his background and family. That was possibly also part of the reason behind the myths and rumours spread around regarding his presence and his history. Some suspected that he wasn’t exactly right in his mind, that he had a background that should not or cannot be speak of. Theories ranging from him being some sort of secret agent, a very humanoid robot, or even some incarnate of a demon or heavenly being. Those, of course, were only playful words spreading among the youth that resided in the area, speculations gone wild with their vivid imaginations. Julian himself actually enjoyed listening to those stories when he came across them once in a while, and he almost always got good laughs out of it.
And then there’s also that one story about how that one time he drank a bit too much staying up chatting with some friends; and started uttering nonsense: “Fear not - I stand in the very presence of the God, and I have been sent…”
He stood firmly upon the ground, robes scraping the floor - although the mass of puffy mist that encased the last few centimeters towards the surface meant that his bare feet weren’t in sight. He kept his eyebrows knitted together, and cast his sight into the light.
“You are a watcher. You gather information. You deliver messages. You carry out orders,” The voice roared from beyond what he could see. It wasn’t really even loud, but it was a roar no less - one that was meant to invoke fear. And he could tell that it was - at the very least - upset. “Now see what you have done.”
He growled in protest: “He was dying -”
“-As I intended for the man to be.” The voice in the light spoke and he fell silent. “And I intended for you to bring him to me.”
“And why, if I may ask? He was a good man. That has been seen. Did he deserve -”
“It is not necessary that you know why. You must only take my word, and you were to bring the man to me.” The voice paused for a moment, and then added: “Man fears death, yet only mistakenly so. Life does not end when life on earth ceases to be, and you are aware -”
“Yet the man hoped to live,” he said, his heart trembling as he realized he had interrupted the word in anger. But he spoke on, “He asked me to let him live. Does his will not account -”
“And is this better?” The voice boomed back. “Is this better?”
“They were trying to kill him.” He said, “And it is your law that -”
“Law!” The voice growled, “I formulated the laws for man and I did not expect you to be as foolish as man has been! ”
Was it just him, or was the light growing brighter…? He brought up a hand to block the blinding rays, not yet realizing what this sensation was signifying.
“You cut their time short because they broke my laws. Does there walk a single person on earth that has never done in violation of my laws? You know well that they yet had chances at redemption, and you prevented that. Five souls, a hundred and twenty years in total, because one man begged you to let him live. Is this better? I and I alone have the right to determine -”
A pause. He could feel his breathing becoming heavy.
“You have placed the wants of a man and judgement of your own before my word and my will, Watcher - do you realize your mistake?” The voice said at last, in a voice much calmer, but no less fearsome.
“I have done wrong.” He admitted, although even he could tell himself that there was still a tint of defiance in his voice. That noncompliance sealed the outcome.
Immediately after that was when it happened. He felt his legs weaken, and the light grew like it was the flame from a thousand suns and his eyes could bear it no more. Each ray felt like it pierced his skin and flesh.
He let out a cry as his stance finally collapsed, him crumbling onto his knees - only that his knees didn’t hit anything.
He fell.
The man groaned as he struggled to stand up. He felt strongly that his waist and legs were shouting in protest as they came to support the weight of his body, forcing a hand onto the nearby wall to aid so that he didn’t fall over.
He had heard of men speak of pain, but it really felt nothing like he expected it to be.
His body didn’t feel any lighter, even though it probably should have. He placed one of his hands upon his back, and felt a bulge where the shoulder blade was.
No wings. He thought, frowning.
Where was this? He took a few steps in a random direction.
He looked up into the sky, trying to recall. So that’s what it felt like to people down here, he thought, remembering the blinding light and blazing heat. Of course, he couldn’t see it from here - the sky was just a canvas of grey lined with puffy masses of an even darker colour.
Powers/ Abilities:
In his current state, Julian does not possess any obviously supernatural abilities. It does seem, however, that he is maintained at something that would be near peak human conditions. He is surprisingly physically strong, and seems to have heightened senses and reflexes above that of an average human. He is, of course, therefore not without weaknesses, and is harmed by anything that would conceivably harm any other human being. It might be suitable to imagine a person very highly trained in some blend of martial arts, having mastered the skills and techniques and possessing the physical fitness to utilize them to the fullest extent.
Other:
Haunted.
Julian’s typical getup consists mainly of button-down shirts and trousers, maybe toss on a jacket on a colder day. He forever refuses to wear the shirt tidily, but more often than not will have parts of it tucked into his trousers just to show the effort.
Name:
Julian E. Laurence
Age:
34 (alleged)
Race:
Human. At least for now.
Sexuality:
(Assumed) Heterosexual.
Personality:
If you speak of a Julian Laurence to anyone in the neighbourhood, you would likely invariably receive the “aaaaaah that person” response. You will also be provided a very consistent set of descriptions: that he was mostly friendly, helpful, generous. He was a good man, put in simple terms; and a rather well-respected member of the society.
Julian is a rather pleasant person to be around. With him, one can be comfortable around without knowing him well enough, yet won’t need to tolerate unknowingly discomforting comments under the guise of friendly mischievousness when they grew close. Julian is polite to friends and strangers alike, but never to a degree that appears distant or condescending. He jokes, but never at the expense of anyone’s feelings; he drinks, with friends and other affiliates, but only healthily.
He cares for the weak, and never hesitates to speak up against the powerful when they were unrightful. He takes to great lengths following the path of the righteous.
Maybe a bit too far, actually. Some said that the only thing that kept his personality from being perfect was his judgement and how much he stressed it. If one was wronged and Julian knows of it he would do anything to ensure that he saw it corrected be it within his power. On the other hand, however, if one is falsely accused by Julian to have committed some act of disgrace - it is of one’s worst fortune that one will have to go through trying to clear it up for him. Julian can be especially stubborn concerning these issues - his black-and-white morality allows no middle ground, and things like this bothered him to no end. He was one of those people who one could just imagine having a giant book that listed rules and guidelines that covered each and every possible circumstance in life and detailing what is right to do and what is wrong, and what is acceptable and what is not; and it’s harder than anything to convince him that any one of those rules needs modifying, or that what really is happening isn’t what he thinks is happening. It’s easy to realize that that his judgement isn’t always precise would pose rather troubling a problem. There’s a saying that the nicest people are also the scariest bastards when they get angry - and that definitely applies here. (Though, of course, if one eventually managed to make him realize his mistake - do expect the sincerest of personal apologies from him, perhaps including a treat to a drink, or dinner.)
Julian appears to be rather religious, and could be seen sitting silently at the back row of the local church every time, and seems to never fall asleep no matter how particularly bland what the pastor was speaking about that week happened to be. It also seems that he has his own ideas about the topics as well - in conversation it is occasionally noticeable that he knows a great deal of theology - and at a bit more detail than people usually expect. Sometimes it almost seems like he knew all those figures in the scriptures personally, him taking mention of their character, personality, and various miscellanea that leads one to wonder how exactly he came to know of these things.
Bio (& Writing Example):
His approachableness makes it easy to forget this fact, but it seems that even the people he was closest with could produce no answers when it came to his background and family. That was possibly also part of the reason behind the myths and rumours spread around regarding his presence and his history. Some suspected that he wasn’t exactly right in his mind, that he had a background that should not or cannot be speak of. Theories ranging from him being some sort of secret agent, a very humanoid robot, or even some incarnate of a demon or heavenly being. Those, of course, were only playful words spreading among the youth that resided in the area, speculations gone wild with their vivid imaginations. Julian himself actually enjoyed listening to those stories when he came across them once in a while, and he almost always got good laughs out of it.
And then there’s also that one story about how that one time he drank a bit too much staying up chatting with some friends; and started uttering nonsense: “Fear not - I stand in the very presence of the God, and I have been sent…”
* * * *
He stood firmly upon the ground, robes scraping the floor - although the mass of puffy mist that encased the last few centimeters towards the surface meant that his bare feet weren’t in sight. He kept his eyebrows knitted together, and cast his sight into the light.
“You are a watcher. You gather information. You deliver messages. You carry out orders,” The voice roared from beyond what he could see. It wasn’t really even loud, but it was a roar no less - one that was meant to invoke fear. And he could tell that it was - at the very least - upset. “Now see what you have done.”
He growled in protest: “He was dying -”
“-As I intended for the man to be.” The voice in the light spoke and he fell silent. “And I intended for you to bring him to me.”
“And why, if I may ask? He was a good man. That has been seen. Did he deserve -”
“It is not necessary that you know why. You must only take my word, and you were to bring the man to me.” The voice paused for a moment, and then added: “Man fears death, yet only mistakenly so. Life does not end when life on earth ceases to be, and you are aware -”
“Yet the man hoped to live,” he said, his heart trembling as he realized he had interrupted the word in anger. But he spoke on, “He asked me to let him live. Does his will not account -”
“And is this better?” The voice boomed back. “Is this better?”
“They were trying to kill him.” He said, “And it is your law that -”
“Law!” The voice growled, “I formulated the laws for man and I did not expect you to be as foolish as man has been! ”
Was it just him, or was the light growing brighter…? He brought up a hand to block the blinding rays, not yet realizing what this sensation was signifying.
“You cut their time short because they broke my laws. Does there walk a single person on earth that has never done in violation of my laws? You know well that they yet had chances at redemption, and you prevented that. Five souls, a hundred and twenty years in total, because one man begged you to let him live. Is this better? I and I alone have the right to determine -”
A pause. He could feel his breathing becoming heavy.
“You have placed the wants of a man and judgement of your own before my word and my will, Watcher - do you realize your mistake?” The voice said at last, in a voice much calmer, but no less fearsome.
“I have done wrong.” He admitted, although even he could tell himself that there was still a tint of defiance in his voice. That noncompliance sealed the outcome.
Immediately after that was when it happened. He felt his legs weaken, and the light grew like it was the flame from a thousand suns and his eyes could bear it no more. Each ray felt like it pierced his skin and flesh.
He let out a cry as his stance finally collapsed, him crumbling onto his knees - only that his knees didn’t hit anything.
He fell.
* * * *
The man groaned as he struggled to stand up. He felt strongly that his waist and legs were shouting in protest as they came to support the weight of his body, forcing a hand onto the nearby wall to aid so that he didn’t fall over.
He had heard of men speak of pain, but it really felt nothing like he expected it to be.
His body didn’t feel any lighter, even though it probably should have. He placed one of his hands upon his back, and felt a bulge where the shoulder blade was.
No wings. He thought, frowning.
Where was this? He took a few steps in a random direction.
He looked up into the sky, trying to recall. So that’s what it felt like to people down here, he thought, remembering the blinding light and blazing heat. Of course, he couldn’t see it from here - the sky was just a canvas of grey lined with puffy masses of an even darker colour.
Powers/ Abilities:
In his current state, Julian does not possess any obviously supernatural abilities. It does seem, however, that he is maintained at something that would be near peak human conditions. He is surprisingly physically strong, and seems to have heightened senses and reflexes above that of an average human. He is, of course, therefore not without weaknesses, and is harmed by anything that would conceivably harm any other human being. It might be suitable to imagine a person very highly trained in some blend of martial arts, having mastered the skills and techniques and possessing the physical fitness to utilize them to the fullest extent.
Other:
Haunted.
IceQueen
The Clawed Fauni
Name: Kora Kawashira
Age: Around 2000 years
Race: Nine tailed fox Spirit
Sexuality: Pansexual
Personality:
Kora is really quite the interesting girl. She has the grace of a high class woman when it is needed. She can be poised and prompt. She always carries a fan around and she looks quite regal when she walks with all 9 tails exposed and billowing beautifully behind her. This is her guardian side. Her guardian side has been known to act proper, gentle and sweet to people. This form is known to be shimmery and loves to float around. She also wears traditional samurai gear as seen in the picture.
However, that is not her most common form. Her common form is a lot different. Her more humanesque form posses quite the opposite stets of traits. Her other form is known for its relaxed attitude and sharp temper. She can be very sarcastic in this form and she is not afraid to burp the alphabet in front of a crowd. This form is known to wear something loose and comfortable, and easy to move in.
Underneath both those layers is a pure form. Her pure form is actually quite lonely, lacking a spirit entity or person to attach itself to. This is more of an embodiment that can happen at any time during any form. This form is triggered by bringing up a soft subject, such as how old she is, what she is, what is her story, etc. Warning, this form when fully reveal usually causes her to spill her life story, along with gallons of tears so be prepared for anything.
Bio:
Kora was born by a powerful wish from the owner of a shrine in old japan. The owners only son was dying, and he had called upon his ancient spirits. But since they did not have any ancestors, being a first time family, they had no one to pray to. So the wife made up a god, the nine tailed fox, and sought to make it real.
At first, she brought great fortune to the temple, and it soon it prospered, bringing great fortune to the owners. But soon the owner was blinded by greed, and he began suppressing the poor spirit until she was completely controlled by him and had no free will. That was until she realized she was not tied to the shrine. She withdrew her blessing from the temple, and the greedy couple soon abandoned the place, leaving the poor fox spirit abandoned.
Since then she has moved on from them, abandoning the shrine as well. She lives in the apartment now, with her own room, almost like a human.
Powers/ Abilities:
Kora has the abilitys of a divine spirit. Basically she can ward of monsters with a particular dance, or her control over fire. She can strike fear into trespassers and the fire that she controls can range from a brilliant blue, to a blinding white.
Other:
Age: Around 2000 years
Race: Nine tailed fox Spirit
Sexuality: Pansexual
Personality:
Kora is really quite the interesting girl. She has the grace of a high class woman when it is needed. She can be poised and prompt. She always carries a fan around and she looks quite regal when she walks with all 9 tails exposed and billowing beautifully behind her. This is her guardian side. Her guardian side has been known to act proper, gentle and sweet to people. This form is known to be shimmery and loves to float around. She also wears traditional samurai gear as seen in the picture.
However, that is not her most common form. Her common form is a lot different. Her more humanesque form posses quite the opposite stets of traits. Her other form is known for its relaxed attitude and sharp temper. She can be very sarcastic in this form and she is not afraid to burp the alphabet in front of a crowd. This form is known to wear something loose and comfortable, and easy to move in.
Underneath both those layers is a pure form. Her pure form is actually quite lonely, lacking a spirit entity or person to attach itself to. This is more of an embodiment that can happen at any time during any form. This form is triggered by bringing up a soft subject, such as how old she is, what she is, what is her story, etc. Warning, this form when fully reveal usually causes her to spill her life story, along with gallons of tears so be prepared for anything.
Bio:
Kora was born by a powerful wish from the owner of a shrine in old japan. The owners only son was dying, and he had called upon his ancient spirits. But since they did not have any ancestors, being a first time family, they had no one to pray to. So the wife made up a god, the nine tailed fox, and sought to make it real.
At first, she brought great fortune to the temple, and it soon it prospered, bringing great fortune to the owners. But soon the owner was blinded by greed, and he began suppressing the poor spirit until she was completely controlled by him and had no free will. That was until she realized she was not tied to the shrine. She withdrew her blessing from the temple, and the greedy couple soon abandoned the place, leaving the poor fox spirit abandoned.
Since then she has moved on from them, abandoning the shrine as well. She lives in the apartment now, with her own room, almost like a human.
Powers/ Abilities:
Kora has the abilitys of a divine spirit. Basically she can ward of monsters with a particular dance, or her control over fire. She can strike fear into trespassers and the fire that she controls can range from a brilliant blue, to a blinding white.
Other:
Last edited by a moderator:
jinkx
amateur sleuth
@Icefox11 I edited some more .-. Is it okay now, senpai?
IceQueen
The Clawed Fauni
yes, yes it is.
jinkx
amateur sleuth
Thank you!Icefox11 said:
eheu
Chief Defenestrator
Appearance:
There are those people who appear aesthetically average or even unappealing at first sight, only to be revealed to be attractive all along when they pull their hair out of the bun, take off the thick glasses or braces, and get into more fashionable clothes.
Claudia Noether might be one of those people. Might, because the current consensus is that it would take divine intervention to have her take the effort to pull off that hollywood-stock-sequence makeover.
She stands at 5’7’’, with a frame bordering on being lanky, that property going unnoticed under the loose layers of clothing she wears.
Her hair is a perpetual mess consistently at about shoulder length. On occasion she ties it up - the occasions being those times when she manages to find those things to tie her hair with. She facial features aren’t the kind that would invoke and immediate impression - most of the time the contours of her face are distorted by the outlines of the dark, slightly curly masses of hair, and her expressions hard to discern with her eyebrows beneath the thick fringe that reaches as long as possible without getting into her eyes.
Zero sense of aesthetics and fashion. Comfort seems to be her primary concern in choosing clothing - not that she has a lot to choose from, though. Most of her few items of clothing look like they are several sizes larger. She takes a strong preference towards cotton or wool sweaters, presumably because their remote likeliness to the feathers that she is comfortable with.
As a raven, the average person’s ability to distinguish her from any other bird of her kind is virtually nonexistent, although it does seem that she’s slightly larger than her average wildlife counterpart. It might not even be able to discern the difference through terms of behaviour (as is possible with most other shifters/animal-form spirits): crows are known to be outstandingly brilliant creatures.
Name:
Claudia L. Noether
Age:
"early twenties"
Race:
Shifter(Raven / Human)
Sexuality:
Possibly tends to either both sides, or neither. Love is overrated anyways.
Personality:
It’s probably hard to put this in a gentle way. We shall just say that...her behaviour would likely be less incoherent if she was some despondent middle-aged drunkard living alone in a cheap rented apartment.
Well the cheap rented apartment part does overlap with reality, I suppose.
Back to personality.
She takes the chaotic neutral archetype to an extreme. Wellbeing and freedom are the goals she pursues, that is, necessarily her own well being and freedom and the assistance of others only when convenient. Questioning her morals or guidelines would most likely result in a confusing mess that only later reduces to the fact that she doesn’t really care: she opposes to laws or other restrictions on her right to do as she pleases, yet follows them when imposed on the grounds of avoidance of inconvenience.
She is amazingly lazy, and would sit or lie still indefinitely in come comfy corner of her place of residence if allowed to do so. The importance of conserving energy possibly serves as a valid excuse.
Possibly as a result of her nature as a shifter and the fact that even now she spends at least as much time as a bird and as a human, she seems to have some trouble switching distinctly between adapting to the behaviour of one of the two species. It always takes a few mistakes for her to remember that she should try to grab things with her feet instead of non-existent hands when she takes her animal form, vice versa. A human Claudia tired and about to fall comfortably asleep will sometimes be seen bringing her arm up trying to tuck her head somewhere underneath her wings. She finds it only moderately troubling - and that’s only when there are people around. She doesn’t mind otherwise. She already considers herself much more fortunate than those who shift into, say, sea urchins, or mealworms.
Some infer of some sort of trauma or scarring from a past breakdown, some consider her mentally ill. To many it almost seems that she’s perpetually drunk as she mutters or shouts things that make no sense to no-one in particular, or produces with her hoarse voice pathetic attempts at chirping sounds in apparent attempts to communicate with birds.
The latter would make a bit of sense to those who know her as a shifter, except that she admits that she actually can’t comprehend any of the sounds other birds make.
Despite her unorderly tendences, it could be said that she never deliberately causes harm. She isn’t even really a fan of mischief because of the effort needed for the setup. Possibly, somewhere under lies a personality that is inherently good, but just confused.
Or, of course, equally possibly there’s no secret heart of gold concealed somewhere, and she’s really just confused.
Bio:
Claudia Noether never had much to say of her past, mostly because she regarded it as bland, meaningless, as well as pretty terrible to live through.
(and the entire backstory is a bit tiresome to read through, therefore spoiler)
Claudia Noether is currently a long-time resident of the Hotel on 13th Street. She is no longer on the job at the restaurant and now (at least temporarily) sustains herself with unemployment benefits, as well as creatures run over by taxis and toast fragments tossed by residents and tourists.
Powers/Abilities:
Shapeshifter. Claudia is capable of manipulating her physiology to take the form of a human or an Australian Raven(Corvus coronoides).
Writing example:
She lost the keys to the door a few days ago. Again.
Not like it’s that much of an inconvenience to her anyway - unless someone somehow manages to close the windows from the outside, which is highly unlikely.
No-one in the room. The raven fluttered its wings and brought itself to a stop, its claws clasping the edge of the bottom of the window frame as it retracted its wings.
The keys will just turn up somewhere unexpected a few days or weeks later, she reckoned. Or a few months. Maybe longer. Maybe she’ll find it the next instant. It didn’t really matter whatsoever - she wasn’t going to leave this place anytime soon anyway.
Sometimes she wondered why even she stayed here. It started with how she needed an answer to feed people with when they asked where she lived. In retrospect, it didn’t even really bother her that much? Yet now the answer to the question why had shifted to become that she had too much stuff in unorganized heaps that were impossible to clear from the apartment. Or at least that she was too lazy to do so. Her forgetting where she put the keys every once in a while, also, provided a convenient excuse not to whenever she felt even remotely tempted to decide to move out.
Barely paying the rent wasn’t as bad as it sounded, really. She had almost started getting comfortable with living life the human way - it was harder than most people seem to tend to think, getting accustomed to the humongous size, unsatisfiable appetite, and of course, the lack of the capability to fly.
Then there was the pain of the process - another thing among the many more the shifter snorted at when she read of transforming humans in fiction because it seems to be never mentioned. It was only reasonable once one thought about it, however: it’s hard to imagine the breaking down and rearranging of one’s body parts to not at least hurt a little. However, the pain was - surprisingly - also something that you get used to after a while. At least she did. She heard other shifters - yes, she knew she was one of many - who possessed enough mastery of the process could bypass the painful parts by skilfully tinkering with how their neurological system was pushed around during the transformation.
She wondered if she could pull that off. Though, as it was with her regarding many other things, she only wondered. Maybe she’ll try, someday. Someday. Now she lacked the motivation and a particularly wonky transformation had left her shoulders and back aching.
She slid herself into the oversized jumper, the sleeves exposing only the fingertips, and the bottom rim covering halfway down her thighs. (No, clothing doesn’t magically disappear when you change from a human into a bird and conveniently re-appear when you go back to being human.) She grunted, meanwhile sinking herself into the pillow-laden corner of the room that she called her bed - the closest it possibly gets to a comfortable place to rest when you’re in a featherless body. There wasn’t terribly much to find out in the streets today,and plenty of competition in most places - the enormous population of pigeons in New York she found endlessly troublesome.
Sighing, she started idly trying to pick out the few remaining shreds of saliva-soaked toast that ended up stuck between her teeth.
Other:
There are those people who appear aesthetically average or even unappealing at first sight, only to be revealed to be attractive all along when they pull their hair out of the bun, take off the thick glasses or braces, and get into more fashionable clothes.
Claudia Noether might be one of those people. Might, because the current consensus is that it would take divine intervention to have her take the effort to pull off that hollywood-stock-sequence makeover.
She stands at 5’7’’, with a frame bordering on being lanky, that property going unnoticed under the loose layers of clothing she wears.
Her hair is a perpetual mess consistently at about shoulder length. On occasion she ties it up - the occasions being those times when she manages to find those things to tie her hair with. She facial features aren’t the kind that would invoke and immediate impression - most of the time the contours of her face are distorted by the outlines of the dark, slightly curly masses of hair, and her expressions hard to discern with her eyebrows beneath the thick fringe that reaches as long as possible without getting into her eyes.
Zero sense of aesthetics and fashion. Comfort seems to be her primary concern in choosing clothing - not that she has a lot to choose from, though. Most of her few items of clothing look like they are several sizes larger. She takes a strong preference towards cotton or wool sweaters, presumably because their remote likeliness to the feathers that she is comfortable with.
As a raven, the average person’s ability to distinguish her from any other bird of her kind is virtually nonexistent, although it does seem that she’s slightly larger than her average wildlife counterpart. It might not even be able to discern the difference through terms of behaviour (as is possible with most other shifters/animal-form spirits): crows are known to be outstandingly brilliant creatures.
Claudia L. Noether
Age:
"early twenties"
Race:
Shifter(Raven / Human)
Sexuality:
Possibly tends to either both sides, or neither. Love is overrated anyways.
Personality:
It’s probably hard to put this in a gentle way. We shall just say that...her behaviour would likely be less incoherent if she was some despondent middle-aged drunkard living alone in a cheap rented apartment.
Well the cheap rented apartment part does overlap with reality, I suppose.
Back to personality.
She takes the chaotic neutral archetype to an extreme. Wellbeing and freedom are the goals she pursues, that is, necessarily her own well being and freedom and the assistance of others only when convenient. Questioning her morals or guidelines would most likely result in a confusing mess that only later reduces to the fact that she doesn’t really care: she opposes to laws or other restrictions on her right to do as she pleases, yet follows them when imposed on the grounds of avoidance of inconvenience.
She is amazingly lazy, and would sit or lie still indefinitely in come comfy corner of her place of residence if allowed to do so. The importance of conserving energy possibly serves as a valid excuse.
Possibly as a result of her nature as a shifter and the fact that even now she spends at least as much time as a bird and as a human, she seems to have some trouble switching distinctly between adapting to the behaviour of one of the two species. It always takes a few mistakes for her to remember that she should try to grab things with her feet instead of non-existent hands when she takes her animal form, vice versa. A human Claudia tired and about to fall comfortably asleep will sometimes be seen bringing her arm up trying to tuck her head somewhere underneath her wings. She finds it only moderately troubling - and that’s only when there are people around. She doesn’t mind otherwise. She already considers herself much more fortunate than those who shift into, say, sea urchins, or mealworms.
Some infer of some sort of trauma or scarring from a past breakdown, some consider her mentally ill. To many it almost seems that she’s perpetually drunk as she mutters or shouts things that make no sense to no-one in particular, or produces with her hoarse voice pathetic attempts at chirping sounds in apparent attempts to communicate with birds.
The latter would make a bit of sense to those who know her as a shifter, except that she admits that she actually can’t comprehend any of the sounds other birds make.
Despite her unorderly tendences, it could be said that she never deliberately causes harm. She isn’t even really a fan of mischief because of the effort needed for the setup. Possibly, somewhere under lies a personality that is inherently good, but just confused.
Or, of course, equally possibly there’s no secret heart of gold concealed somewhere, and she’s really just confused.
Bio:
Claudia Noether never had much to say of her past, mostly because she regarded it as bland, meaningless, as well as pretty terrible to live through.
(and the entire backstory is a bit tiresome to read through, therefore spoiler)
Her parents she didn’t really get to know. She didn’t consider that a necessity, and still doesn’t - they probably were as uninteresting as any other pair of human mates are. She did know that they did not start out living in New York - fragmented, blurry memories remained in her mind of a decaying seaside village somewhere else. The kind with the old brick houses, the stone-paved roads too narrow for cars to go both ways, the harbour that once housed wooden boats of fishermen now replaced by buoyant masses of plastic and metal and the smell of petroleum in addition to rotten fish. There was also always the ever irritating sounds of seagulls occupying the air.
That was where they lived. Until, of course, all the moving into the city and thriving for a better life happened.
She didn’t really know why they made the decision. Surely there was something about the old life that left them unsatisfied. Her excuse for not remembering was that she should’ve been barely four years old when they drove the distance that felt like halfway across the continent and settled down in the city and started their new life.
Her father started working for...a business of sorts. They didn’t talk to her about it much, but they afforded a rented apartment with a few rooms and a kitchen. She went to school there, met new people. People of another kind, it seemed - the way they spoke, the clothes they wore, the things they talked about.
It was unfamiliar, but also amazing in a way. And she supposed she could call herself happy back then.
Then something went terribly wrong. Surely something did, but all she really knew was her father being home less and less and increasingly large proportions of the time he actually was home were spent arguing with her mother about one thing or another. There was, then, that she noticed the steady increase of the number of glass bottles, broken or otherwise, emitting the scent of alcohol - one she later came to absolutely loathe - in the trash she took out every few days.
On another topic, she doesn’t have an exact date to report as to when exactly she first became aware of her ability. Somewhere in her earlier middle school years, perhaps. Neither did she remember what she thought of it, except remembering that immediately afterwards she vomited all over her bedroom floor and swore never to make that happen again, because it hurt like all of her bones and muscles were being torn apart and shoved back together in another way.
And no-one knew of it. A few people in school came to know her, however, as being that one transfer student that ended up at the top of the class. And a friendly, pleasant, approachable person as well. So she made friends. She practiced her speech so that her accent remained no longer something that defined the first impression she gave. She learnt to talk about the same things that her friends did. She blended in, and through that she also drew her attention from the situation back at home - still all of that made no sense to her, but she could only feel that it was deteriorating. Maintaining facades she didn’t find overly difficult - she considered that an advantage.
Then in the end, she ended up doing that thing a second time. And a large number of times afterwards, actually. Being a bird had its benefits, she learnt. From some point on she ceased to see her father return home, and along with her mother she moved out of their apartment and into a relative’s quarters. She could feel like they weren’t welcome as guests - somehow - and she decided that she could be “home” as little as possible as to avoid the constant scorning directed to the two of them. It was insisted that they were only let to live there under the condition that they took care of their own meals, and she soon found that sustaining the diet of a bird was much easier than satisfying a human appetite. New York had plenty of automobiles and a massive population of rats, which results in a rather steady supply of scavenger food - she decided it doesn’t even taste that bad, at least not to the unrefined taste buds of a raven.
Some came to wonder what she was doing during lunch breaks or on weekends, as people rarely run into her. She shrugged and they let it pass, and no-one really noticed that one cell in the changing rooms consistently remained locked with no-one inside and a set of clothes hanging on the rails.
Work on the side was found a necessity, and she found a job as a waiter at some small restaurant where they didn’t bother to check for falsified personal information. She skipped school for work and went home only late at night. And so it continued: she spent her days at school, on the part-time job, and as an inconspicuous black bird of prey in corners of the city. A few years went by. Running frequently late and often even disappearing entirely from the classroom, some concern was raised, only to then be overlooked as it became the norm. At home, she barely spoke to her mother anymore - they didn’t speak much from the beginning either, but in the end they wound up absolute strangers. She was barely at home anyway. Outside, she still had her friends - the ones she met at school and at her job, the ones who cared about her - once in a while, that was.
Anything beyond that was lost, as if her memory just faded out into the present with no explanation whatsoever of what happened in between. It involved her seeing her father one last time - much older than she remembered, well-dressed, and of course, still as uninteresting as she ever knew. It involved a lot of confusion. There was that relative whose home they were staying at acting more polite than ever saying you’re welcome to her fathers thanks. There were some tears, maybe. And then there was Claudia declaring herself old enough to look after herself, followed by her forcing through the door and disappearing into the streets.
That was where they lived. Until, of course, all the moving into the city and thriving for a better life happened.
She didn’t really know why they made the decision. Surely there was something about the old life that left them unsatisfied. Her excuse for not remembering was that she should’ve been barely four years old when they drove the distance that felt like halfway across the continent and settled down in the city and started their new life.
Her father started working for...a business of sorts. They didn’t talk to her about it much, but they afforded a rented apartment with a few rooms and a kitchen. She went to school there, met new people. People of another kind, it seemed - the way they spoke, the clothes they wore, the things they talked about.
It was unfamiliar, but also amazing in a way. And she supposed she could call herself happy back then.
Then something went terribly wrong. Surely something did, but all she really knew was her father being home less and less and increasingly large proportions of the time he actually was home were spent arguing with her mother about one thing or another. There was, then, that she noticed the steady increase of the number of glass bottles, broken or otherwise, emitting the scent of alcohol - one she later came to absolutely loathe - in the trash she took out every few days.
On another topic, she doesn’t have an exact date to report as to when exactly she first became aware of her ability. Somewhere in her earlier middle school years, perhaps. Neither did she remember what she thought of it, except remembering that immediately afterwards she vomited all over her bedroom floor and swore never to make that happen again, because it hurt like all of her bones and muscles were being torn apart and shoved back together in another way.
And no-one knew of it. A few people in school came to know her, however, as being that one transfer student that ended up at the top of the class. And a friendly, pleasant, approachable person as well. So she made friends. She practiced her speech so that her accent remained no longer something that defined the first impression she gave. She learnt to talk about the same things that her friends did. She blended in, and through that she also drew her attention from the situation back at home - still all of that made no sense to her, but she could only feel that it was deteriorating. Maintaining facades she didn’t find overly difficult - she considered that an advantage.
Then in the end, she ended up doing that thing a second time. And a large number of times afterwards, actually. Being a bird had its benefits, she learnt. From some point on she ceased to see her father return home, and along with her mother she moved out of their apartment and into a relative’s quarters. She could feel like they weren’t welcome as guests - somehow - and she decided that she could be “home” as little as possible as to avoid the constant scorning directed to the two of them. It was insisted that they were only let to live there under the condition that they took care of their own meals, and she soon found that sustaining the diet of a bird was much easier than satisfying a human appetite. New York had plenty of automobiles and a massive population of rats, which results in a rather steady supply of scavenger food - she decided it doesn’t even taste that bad, at least not to the unrefined taste buds of a raven.
Some came to wonder what she was doing during lunch breaks or on weekends, as people rarely run into her. She shrugged and they let it pass, and no-one really noticed that one cell in the changing rooms consistently remained locked with no-one inside and a set of clothes hanging on the rails.
Work on the side was found a necessity, and she found a job as a waiter at some small restaurant where they didn’t bother to check for falsified personal information. She skipped school for work and went home only late at night. And so it continued: she spent her days at school, on the part-time job, and as an inconspicuous black bird of prey in corners of the city. A few years went by. Running frequently late and often even disappearing entirely from the classroom, some concern was raised, only to then be overlooked as it became the norm. At home, she barely spoke to her mother anymore - they didn’t speak much from the beginning either, but in the end they wound up absolute strangers. She was barely at home anyway. Outside, she still had her friends - the ones she met at school and at her job, the ones who cared about her - once in a while, that was.
Anything beyond that was lost, as if her memory just faded out into the present with no explanation whatsoever of what happened in between. It involved her seeing her father one last time - much older than she remembered, well-dressed, and of course, still as uninteresting as she ever knew. It involved a lot of confusion. There was that relative whose home they were staying at acting more polite than ever saying you’re welcome to her fathers thanks. There were some tears, maybe. And then there was Claudia declaring herself old enough to look after herself, followed by her forcing through the door and disappearing into the streets.
Powers/Abilities:
Shapeshifter. Claudia is capable of manipulating her physiology to take the form of a human or an Australian Raven(Corvus coronoides).
Writing example:
She lost the keys to the door a few days ago. Again.
Not like it’s that much of an inconvenience to her anyway - unless someone somehow manages to close the windows from the outside, which is highly unlikely.
No-one in the room. The raven fluttered its wings and brought itself to a stop, its claws clasping the edge of the bottom of the window frame as it retracted its wings.
The keys will just turn up somewhere unexpected a few days or weeks later, she reckoned. Or a few months. Maybe longer. Maybe she’ll find it the next instant. It didn’t really matter whatsoever - she wasn’t going to leave this place anytime soon anyway.
Sometimes she wondered why even she stayed here. It started with how she needed an answer to feed people with when they asked where she lived. In retrospect, it didn’t even really bother her that much? Yet now the answer to the question why had shifted to become that she had too much stuff in unorganized heaps that were impossible to clear from the apartment. Or at least that she was too lazy to do so. Her forgetting where she put the keys every once in a while, also, provided a convenient excuse not to whenever she felt even remotely tempted to decide to move out.
Barely paying the rent wasn’t as bad as it sounded, really. She had almost started getting comfortable with living life the human way - it was harder than most people seem to tend to think, getting accustomed to the humongous size, unsatisfiable appetite, and of course, the lack of the capability to fly.
Then there was the pain of the process - another thing among the many more the shifter snorted at when she read of transforming humans in fiction because it seems to be never mentioned. It was only reasonable once one thought about it, however: it’s hard to imagine the breaking down and rearranging of one’s body parts to not at least hurt a little. However, the pain was - surprisingly - also something that you get used to after a while. At least she did. She heard other shifters - yes, she knew she was one of many - who possessed enough mastery of the process could bypass the painful parts by skilfully tinkering with how their neurological system was pushed around during the transformation.
She wondered if she could pull that off. Though, as it was with her regarding many other things, she only wondered. Maybe she’ll try, someday. Someday. Now she lacked the motivation and a particularly wonky transformation had left her shoulders and back aching.
She slid herself into the oversized jumper, the sleeves exposing only the fingertips, and the bottom rim covering halfway down her thighs. (No, clothing doesn’t magically disappear when you change from a human into a bird and conveniently re-appear when you go back to being human.) She grunted, meanwhile sinking herself into the pillow-laden corner of the room that she called her bed - the closest it possibly gets to a comfortable place to rest when you’re in a featherless body. There wasn’t terribly much to find out in the streets today,and plenty of competition in most places - the enormous population of pigeons in New York she found endlessly troublesome.
Sighing, she started idly trying to pick out the few remaining shreds of saliva-soaked toast that ended up stuck between her teeth.
Other:
- A human tenant currently shares the room with her. The roommate works at a office and only returns for nights and weekends, leaving the room to Claudia during the days where she has nothing to do. It’s a miracle that Claudia’s behaviour is tolerated - not without some frightening encounters in the early days, of course, but there was this agreement that those things weren’t to be spoken of outside of the apartment, so they should be safe by now.
- Also, H-H-H-Haaaaaaauuunted.
amended
I am an Eternal Spring flowing under dirt.
Jamie's Ghoul form isn't much different from his human form, but it does vary depending on his emotional state. His basic Ghoul appearance, which is pretty much what he will look like despite his emotions, is where he becomes extremely thin surpassing the thinness of an anorexic person.
(Picture the fake mother at the end or Coraline except with less sharp features.)
His eyes also seem to be blotted out, like the demons off of Supernatural where their eyes are completely black, including the Retina.
But as mentioned, Jamie's emotions can change the way he looks. In Ghoul form, if he gets upset or angry, he will start to decay at an unspeakable rate, getting worse and worse until he has fully decayed and can't decompose anymore. Whenever Jamie is threatened, his mouth will elongate down to his chest and will dangle there until danger has passed and he feels safe, then it will retrieve itself back into its original position upon his face; the same goes for whenever he decays, once he feels better, his skin will mend itself to where he looks normal once again.
Upon all of this, Jamie's height increases when he transforms into his Ghoul appearance, changing from 5' 10 to 8' 9.
Name
Jamie Hewlett
Age
140
Race
Ghoul
Sexuality:
Heterosexual
Personality
Jamie is actually a very stern person, always wanting to do everything the way he's done it and the way he WILL do it. If you try to oppose Jamie, he will become very bitter towards said person, even more bitter than usual. If you do somehow end up earning his liking, he will act as friendly as he knows towards you, this is very rare, though.
Interests/Activities
Jamie is in love with several items which he buys constantly, Sprite, shoes, books, CDs, movies, and other things as well, it's almost like it's mandatory for him to buy something when he goes to the store to get his daily Sprite. Jamie rather prefers to stay inside than go outside and socialize, he's practically an antisocial, but he goes out too much to be one.
Quirks
On top of being bitter with everyone, James does not have a big sense of humor, in fact, he particularly despises jokes. (You can hear him yelling at a movie occasionally for a terrible joke.) Jokes aside, James REALLY loves music, any type of music, except for that modern pop crap, only singing about sex and alcohol, there's something that James hates with a passion.
Bio
Jamie was born into a middle class family in 1874, his mother was human and his father was a ghoul. Although his family was middle-classed as mentioned before, Jamie's father had his fair share of enemies and rivals that have all wanted to get their hands on his throat; this obviously posed a problem for Jamie's family which caused them to move from their home in New York, all the way to Texas, just to ensure their safety.
After Jamie and his family moved to Texas and built a small log cabin where him and his family lived peacefully for several years. One night, Jamie was awoken by a peculiar smell, the smell of smoke, it turn out that during the night, some of his father's rivals had tossed a torch into his house. This caused his house to catch on fire, killing his mother in the process.
After the attack, Jamie left his home and started travelling to big cities and collecting all sorts of shoes and book, ETC. Once The Great War broke out, Jamie enlisted himself in the military and fought against the Germans among the trenches of Europe. After the war ended, he continued to wander around and collect practically useless items. He continued this act until World War 2 was in play, Jamie once again enlisted himself, this time he fought the Japanese on a small island just south of Japan, called Iwo Jima. Once he was sent back home, Jamie actually stopped travelling around and decided to settle down in one spot. Vietnam broke out many years later, so Jamie decided to go to war for one last time; Jamie was sent into La Drang Valley to fight in one of the most bloodiest battles of the war. But after he left Vietnam, he found himself a little apartment building on a corner in New York and currently resides there.
Powers/ Abilities
Jamie has some incredible strength, especially for such a scrawny person like himself.
He can turn himself invisible if his surroundings are mostly dark.
Ghouls have a higher tendency to resist damage, a gunshot would do 1/4 of damage to a ghoul, to a human.
Writing example(at the least 200 words)
Jamie walks out of his apartment, he has a nasty habit of leaving his lights on and today was no different. Jamie locks his door and proceeds to walk down the hall out down the stairs, eventually arriving downstairs and exiting the building. He walks down the street, Jesus, his posture is terrible, there's something he needs to fix; Jamie walks down the street towards the convenient store that's located two blocks away from his own apartment building, it's not a long walk, but due to a count of four alleyways in between Jamie's apartment building and the store, not to mention countless others outside of these two points, it is not a desired route to be taken by many due to the high risk of being jumped.
Jamie exits the store with his usual couple of sprites and proceeds to head back towards his house, his spoils of a successful store run were beckoning him to just consume the drinks on the spot, but Jamie knew self control very well. As he was passing an alley, it happened,
"GIVE ME ALL YOU MONEY OR I BLOW YOUR FUCKIN' HEAD OFF!" Screams the short and chubby man who was currently holding a revolver to the back of Jamie's head,
"NOW!" The man screams again. Jamie slowly sets the bag on the ground, several snapping sounds erupt from him as he starts to grow, ever so slowly. The short man was in pure shock of what he was seeing, a man growing right before his eyes,
"Wha-WHAT THE FUCK?!" The man screams as Jamie tuns around, his jaw was swinging by his chest and his eyes were pitch black. The man goes to run but is suddenly killed as he is slammed into the wall by Jamie, ultimately snapping his neck and his spine. Jamie then transforms back into his human form, and he goes home.
Other
[media]
He's haunted.
IceQueen
The Clawed Fauni
Accepted!
amended
I am an Eternal Spring flowing under dirt.
Has anything important happened in the RP, or can my guy just be all like "JjjjJJhjkhKjHKJHK I hate people. JkjHKHkJHKHKjHK SPRITETETETETETE. KLJkHKJgKJHJHZlkHLKJhKHLK BOOKSSSKSKKSKSKSKS MKMMOOOOOOVIVIEVIEVISVSVIIEVIES!"
IceQueen
The Clawed Fauni
People basically are introducing themselves, if you want to talk to Kora
BloodThunder27
Seven Thousand Club
If only Angela wasn't so shy =/
CrimsonEclipse
The One and Only
WIP
Appearance
Passive Form:
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Aggressive Form:
<p><a href="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_11/image.jpg.0b4b5efe42a487ab8b5130601ad6339f.jpg" class="ipsAttachLink ipsAttachLink_image"><img data-fileid="35438" src="<fileStore.core_Attachment>/monthly_2014_11/image.jpg.0b4b5efe42a487ab8b5130601ad6339f.jpg" class="ipsImage ipsImage_thumbnailed" alt=""></a></p>
Chibiterasu Shiranui
Age
Unknown
Race
Celestial Brush God
Sexuality
Heterosexual
Personality
Chibiterasu, or whatever nickname anyone calls him, is benevolent, helping all those in need. He is loyal to hi friends and determined to protect his friends, although he can be quite mischievous at times. He is incredibly playful, running around a person and playfully tackling them if he wants to play. He has an incredibly short attention span resulting him to sometimes stare off into space when he is being spoken to, which sometimes leads him to fall asleep. He always causes quite a mess, especially because of his tail.
Bio
To be followed
Powers/Abilities
Chibi is known to have the power to control flames. However, the strength of this power varies depending on his form. If he is in his passive form, he can create nothing more than small puffs of flame, sometimes a small fireball. In his aggressive form however, he can create huge balls of fire or powerful jets of flame, he can even engulf himself in flames. In both forms, his tail is like a calligraphy brush, the tip always has ink in it, which may be quite messy.
Writing example(at the least 200 words)
To be followed
Other
Chibi doesn't know how to read. He can also speak to any animals, humans included.
