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Fantasy 𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓥𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓾𝓪𝓻𝓭 (The Vanguard - CS)

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Saboona

president thot
The Vanguard - CS

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things to know before you begin
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Rules
1. Follow ToS and keep your character respectful and appropriate. Some detail, dark or morbid, is allowed but do it within reason of other people reading. If you want to go into detail and it's a bit explicit, keep it in a spoiler tag.
2. These are not first come first serve, so feel free to work on the profiles as you please. Placeholders are encouraged.
3. Roleplay will be semi-literate, but that's just to say don't write two words per post. Give people content, and they will return. However, don't be pressed to write a novel in a post. Novel's for backstories though? That's the good stuff.
4. Those in the Discord, if your character isn't approved, we will ask that you leave the discord. We can keep you on a waitlist if your character is approved but there isn't enough room, or you want a chance at coming back with an adapted character should a spot open. This isn't to be mean and say LEAVE! but just so nothing is spoiled and there isn't any ill blood between those accepted and those not.
5. Characters will be arranged to be wed, written in ink and bound in blood. However, this isn't going to be any forced heterosexual pairings. If it's expressed, we can. If not, we are open to any characters of any sexual orientation or sexual gender. Despite being a history based RP, we acknowledge that diversity has existed far beyond the realm of history books. The marriages don't have to be romantic either, but it is encouraged if people are interested.
6. Anything not make sense? Any questions? DM me or vexed vexed
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welcome to the few who remain
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Details
For your CS:
1. FC's are to be realistic, real actors and the like please. As period accurate as you can, if you want to supply pictures in your character sheet + posts, but if you're sticking with one photo go ahead and just try to make it look not modern.
2. Characters are to be between the ages of 22-30
3. Elemental powers are one of the five: Fire, Water, Earth, Air, Spirit, and there will be two people for each. If you want to go into detail on your power, and how your character manifests their ability, go ahead. Keep it legitimate, realistic and within the realm of their element. (i.e: fire produces flames, light, or energy). Nuances to the powers aren't required, but fun if you want it to tie into their character.
4. Characters are to be from the Union (British citizen/resident if possible), unless talked to with vexed vexed or myself about it. Obviously you can have different ethnicities, but try to have your character in England within the last ten years or so.
5. The CS's can be fairly simple, or very complex-- it's up to you and how you want to present your character. More detail will give a stronger chance of being considered first, and showing off your writing is a great example as well.
6. If you have questions about history, your character, or whatnot, feel free to DM myself or vexed.

CS MUST INCLUDE (at minimum):
Name:
Age:
Sexuality:
Zodiac:
Element:
Personality:
Weaknesses:
Strengths:
Background:


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off to the races
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roles
Fire:
- Isolde Bishop (Saboona)
- Roman Graves (noonshine)

Water:
- Ilya Zabolotsky (Cashi)
- Vayla Kaur (WalkingDogo)

Earth:
- Berinhard Reichenbach (vexed)
- Delvin Connelly (Arzee)

Air:
- Devin Murphy (wickedlittlecritta)
- Eben Hudnall (horses)

Spirit:
- Valentin Auclair (Hell0nHighWater)
- Vasilis Laskaris (L0ck0n)​


code by valen t.
 
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Saboona

president thot
isolde bishop. ❞
the fire that burns within,
compared to death hardly stings the soul.​
❝ cursory information. ❞

full name— isolde maryweather bishop.
nickname(s)— ise, isa.
gender— female.
age— twenty-five.
sexuality— heterosexual.
zodiac— leo.
element— fire.

❝ background. ❞

Isolde was born already loved, doted on by her mother and sister. Her mother, young and in love with the wealthy banker who swept her off the streets, would be one of the kindest people that Isolde would know. It was no surprise that her first born, Isolde's sister Beatrice, would take after her mother's qualities. Minnie was a fan of old literature, spending her pregnancies reading poetry from Shakespeare to Whitman. Isolde and Beatrice were ushered into appreciating poetry and art from a young age, although their father-- the very practical Ronald Bishop, couldn't have the tolerance for creativity. Beatrice obliged most often to their father's request of spending less time reading and more time on realistic life skills. Isolde disliked her father for this, and made it clear. She was a nuisance to the man, very nearly getting her bottom whooped red on occasion. Trouble would have been Isolde's middle name, if her mother hadn't insisted otherwise.

Isolde and her sister showed their powers at a young age. Isolde showed when she, in the midst of a tantrum, sent a burning cascade of flame up the left side of the bedroom she shared with her sister. Her mother, alarmed and unprepared for that level of child rearing, rushed to retrieve their father from work. Almost as if on cue, rather than Ronald Bishop walk through the front door, a man that Isolde only knew as Uncle Richard, strode in with a moustached fellow behind him. Richard explained the situation to their mother in the parlor, Isolde and Beatrice doing their best to eavesdrop. They didn't retrieve much information, and before they knew it, she was being shipped off to spend their summer at their Uncle's estate. At the prospect of being deep in the countryside and away from their mother, Isolde began to panic. Little fires began to burn around her, and being away from her sister only increase her fears. Although it wasn't known what abilities Bea had, they were quickly noted-- as she seemed to almost proficiently bend water to her will to put out these fires. Their Uncle hadn't known this, and knowing that, more than happily took both girls with him.

At her Uncle's, Isolde once again did what she could to push everyone's buttons around her. She only managed to truly get along with Michel, her Uncle's friend and advisor, as he was eccentric and erratic enough to keep her on her toes. Isolde definitely, above all, disliked her Uncle's ward. Some german mutt, as it were, and Isolde made it clear that she didn't like him. It wasn't just that he was German, and she knew enough about the war at her age to reason who were allies and who were enemies, but Bea was immediately smitten with the boy. Isolde relied on her sister, perhaps a little too unhealthily, and noticing that Bea's attention drifted more than once on Berinhard made Isolde loathe the boy. She'd smolder his shorts, heat up his silverware at dinner, and in whatever capacity possible tease him to death. Beatrice tried her best to dismiss her sister's protectiveness, but it only made Isolde more jealous. Pushing herself away from Bea, perhaps at her wits end, she could only watch in abject horror as Bea became closer and closer to Berinhard.

The single summer at her Uncle's turned into many years, with occasional vacations spent back home in London. Her parents seemed okay with it, although she could see how being away from her daughters made Minnie go a bit mad. Isolde began to associate life with training, honing her skills, and preparing for whatever secret operation her Uncle was working on. He made quick not to let any of the children in on his inner machinations, as much as Isolde tried to find out. Beatrice and Berin only got closer, with Isolde choosing to spend her time on more constructive activities. She took up instruments, violin and piano being her favourite. It was a good way of honing her focus, and circumventing her emotions. More physical activities she indulged in was sword fighting, courtesy of Michel, and eventually training with a gun. She decided there and then, lonely in most regards, that she would devote herself to whatever her Uncle was brewing. He mentioned more than once that it would change the war, and that was all Isolde needed.

Later in life, Berin and Bea took off to join the fight. Isolde stayed back, at her Uncle's behest, although she had been determined to do her part as well. It became more lonely at the estate for Isolde.

When Berinhard came back home, injured and his heart in tatters, Isolde very nearly burned the whole property down that night. Learning that her sister had died, so callously and suddenly, dented the woman to her core. It was silent between her and Berinhard, though she couldn't quite get the same hatred for him that she had had when they were younger. They both were stunted from the tragedy, and though she made it clear that she still didn't like him, part of her reasoned that for Bea's sake she would at least cooperate with the German oaf.

That, and she promised at Bea's memorial that she would end this war.

❝ relationships. ❞

mother— Mary "Minnie" Bishop née Fairfield / Living.
father— Ronald Bishop / Living.
uncle— Baron Richard Bishop / Living.
sister— Beatrice Bishop / Deceased.
brother— Sebastian Bishop / Living.

❝ abilities. ❞

Isolde wields fire at her fingertips, able to conjure it at ease and to a dangerous degree of control. So long as she is calm, in a stable mind, and focused: the fire bends to her will. Her hands ignite, and as if doused in candle wax, will not burn. She can shoot this fire out, be it as a projectile or a long ray of flames. The fire, however, is tied to Isolde's mind and body. If she is at an extreme emotion, happiness or sadness (usually anger), the fire begins to act out on its own. This can be in the form of uncontrollable blazes or random spurts of flames. Lack of focus makes the fire begin to behave as regular fire does, and consume everything in its path. Fire that is directly connected to her is a lot safer than letting fires burn on their own; because then, at that point, Isolde has no more control over it. She has begun to learn to control fire that she has not directly summoned, by extinguishing flames or holding orphan fires, but she is a novice at that.

❝ psyche. ❞

vices— impulsive, easily frustrated, haughty, easily flustered.
virtues— daring, outspoken, loyal, righteous.
fatal flaw— jealousy.
happiest memory— her mother reading to her and her sister before bed, every night
a secret— although devoted to good, isolde has vowed to do whatever it takes to end the war. whatever it takes.

❝ visage. ❞

Isolde stands above average at about five foot six, something that has always been an insecurity to the girl who likes to wear heels. Her skin is smooth, freckled and blushed from roaming outdoors in her youth and early adulthood. She's insecure about her height, as well as her mouth and nose, these things she likes to hide with a polite hand across her face or a slight slope to her shoulders. Her tousled brown hair, more chestnut in the summer than chocolate, is often tangled into some bun or braid down her back. She does smile, if you can catch it, and it's wide and mischievous from a life of starting trouble. Isolde prefers to wear paler colours, simple frocks or gowns, but very much enjoys to throw on a pair of trousers and a linen blouse on days lazing about.

&&— ❝ the fire starter. ❞
 
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vexed

𝔀𝓮𝓷𝓬𝓱
bernard king. ❞
I awoke like a condemned man,
to the naivety of birdsong

❝ cursory information. ❞

full name— berinhard otto reichenbach.
nickname(s)— ber, bear, king.
gender— male.
age— 29.
sexuality— heterosexual.
zodiac— capricorn.
element— earth.

❝ background. ❞
Born in Munich to a family of labourers, Berinhard would be the third child to survive the filthy conditions of their shared flat. With life as it was and plenty of family having left for a better life abroad, they were eager to join them in Britain. At the age of seven, he would leave his home country - never to lay eyes on it again. Arriving in Dover, their new life was founded in London. Yet within two years, Berinhard’s mother and sister succumbed to scarlet fever. The deaths shook the family and within the year their father took to drink, threatening to turn them out on the street for every minor indiscretion. Ber’s last ally, his elder brother, ran off at the age of fifteen to join the war upon its declaration.

Forced into work for a meagre wage to aid in keeping a roof over their heads, life became an angry, sad thing to endure. On the first of May, 1900, they would receive the telegram that the brother who ran to join the great adventure overseas, had been killed in action. Embittered and soon unemployed for his German heritage, Berin’s father took to pawning his wedding ring and beating his only boy; right until the moment he tried to protect himself, manipulating the red brick walls of their crumbling townhouse to throw at the old man.

Berinhard was sold to Baron Bishop for ten shillings and five pence, discovered by his men through rumours of the slums. Protected under wardship, his abilities and possible heritage have never been questioned. Adjusting to life among the upper echelons of society was hard, harder still when you insisted that your father was coming back for you. Upon arrival, he was a filthy, skinny little thing with a mop of greasy hair and quick eyes - barely able to spell his own name.

Eventually befriending the Barons' nieces, Isolde and Beatrice, he found his place in the family. A guardian of sorts where his own had failed him. Isa hated it, although Beatrice was the ever lovely and composed sister. It would be the one he spent his days doting on, until he asked her to marry him before he went away to his first conflict at twenty-two, with too many years of standing on the sidelines.

During his time on the western front, Berin was shot going over the top and before his return to blighty, spent his days in a field hospital writing his last letter to Beatrice. Two days after he was sent home on medical leave, Bea’s post was bombed and among it’s injured was his fiancee who wouldn’t survive the night. It wasn’t right, the space at the table - the gap between him and Isolde, no negotiator now to calm their spats.

Unable to rejoin the fight due to a prominent limp he’d been required therapy for, Ber indulges in the thought of the Vanguard as a reason to enter the conflict again and over the few years, he’s reduced his limp to almost nought. Nevertheless, he is unjustified in his rage towards the German heritage that he has always claimed as his own as if there is something truly wicked in his DNA.

❝ relationships. ❞
mother— lieselotte reichenbach / deceased.
father— albrecht reichenbach / unknown.
older sister— frida reichenbach / deceased.
older brother— johann reichenbach / KIA.

❝ abilities. ❞
Manipulating soil and rock, the main tenets of his powers, Berinhard is able to alter the landscape and utilise the ground beneath his feet. Defensively creating shields or aiding in a quick trench, it’s his movements which are correlated to the push and pull of the Earth itself. Whilst able to produce projectiles and spear men with frozen soil in the deep midwinter, Ber can detect vibrations through the Earth and somewhat effectively guess the direction and marching speed of any mech, man, or horse. Abuse of his power will eventually lead to exhaustion, as with any physical exertion, pronouncing his limp.

❝ psyche. ❞
vices— loyal, obstinate, vindictive, irritable.
virtues— compassionate, faithful, waggish, intuitive.
fatal flaw— overlooking himself and others to follow orders.
happiest memory— the very night he proposed to Beatrice Bishop.
a secret— Beatrice gifted Berinhard her mother’s ring, one which he keeps in his breast pocket on a chain - Isolde believes it was destroyed or lost upon her death.

❝ visage. ❞
Standing at the height of 6’3”, Berinhard is a broad, sinewy man from his time overseas. A blue-eyed middle german from birth with hair on the darker side of blond, Bernard is notable for a neat beard framing his angular jaw and no nonsense, plain dress sense. However, if closely examined, he slightly drags his left leg.

&&— ❝ the good soldier. ❞
 
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noonshine

Dingus McPingus
Roman Graves
Basics

Name: Roman Cornelius Graves

Age: 24

Sexuality: Gay and Avoiding it

Zodiac: Sagittarius

Element: Fire

The Good: Observant, well mannered, quick on his feet, determined

The Bad: Conceited, neurotic, sickly, willfully-ignorant, gossips and keeps secrets about the wrong crap

The Ugly: An absolute bourgeoisie tattle-tale, and a coward

Abilities

Already running at an unusual temperature, Roman’s presence is much warmer than who he is in action- he is followed by intense heat, as though under his skin are smoldering embers- with some dedication to that aspect of himself, he can bring his hands to temperatures that have destroyed some gloves and left a certain bedroom mirror without a center. In situations of extreme stress he has been known to have a sort of emotional eruption and rather than screaming- emits flames from the mouth- which he finds embarrassing, and unsightly. At worst, he has emitted a bile that has burned holes through tile, but that is a rare and drunken day.

Appearance

Roman wears his dark chestnut hair short, pushed away from his brow. Although he is a handsome young man, he often has a sunken look about him as he is frequently dehydrated for lack of thought. His eyes are a pale green, blue in some lights and in their pleasant almond shape add a sense of playfulness to his often burdened expression. He is angular, and wiry in his frame of average height, 5’5”. He dresses well, but avoids the lavish garb preferred by his father and living brother as they draw too much attention.



This is tyranny's disease, to trust no friends...
Personality

He trusts authority, having a chain of command- and does not necessarily trust freewill. In some lack of trust for himself, for those around him, he believes is systematic integrity. That is to say that no one is more comfortable bending to authority than Roman Graves- who keeps most to himself but never fails to at least try to flatter a superior. He is attentive, and determined- if a job can be done without risk of limb or defamation of character he will surely get it done.

Only at his most flustered will an obscenity escape his mouth. He takes most of what he says into careful consideration and bides his time. He is a wonderful listener, someone who asks the right questions and takes his time to find out what he needs while doing his best to maintain the image of politeness he had created for himself- and there is an authenticity to that part of him, he is exceptionally curious, very interested in the lives of other people and pleased by anything he comes to find out. In fact, he is fairly easy to please and often pleasantly surprised by little things. Although he is ever the optimist, he has bouts of angst, where he retreats into solitude and revels in his own dramatics.
Background

The Graves made their money in coal, profiting on the labor and often lives of people in their employ. As ever adaptable entrepreneurs they expanded, changed hands, sold off their mines and slowly became a leading shipping company, Mercury & Co. Finances in his family have never been a place of trouble, even in war do they find themselves at an advantage.

Born to Lawrance and Kate Graves on December 21, 1893, the youngest of five children, Roman was a sickly and colic baby. Not expected to live past his infant years he was almost constantly with fever, and nearly never outdoors. His sister, Mayme, closest in age to himself, would cater to him and paid him more mind than anyone else, for some time acting as his only playmate. As they grew older she began to favor her friends outside of the family- and Roman, persistent in his care, would try to follow her, but she easily outran him. When she was around less, he took to his father’s side, observing his work, meeting the important people and providing all the entertainment a mannered child allowed- until he was old enough that it was no longer as endearing to his father’s colleagues.

His mother spoiled him relentlessly between fits of isolation that she was prone to, at times he would go months without seeing her, only to suddenly be showered in her affections and the aesthetic bliss of her love. They would go on holidays when he was well enough, and Mayme would come along during the times she was in their mother’s favor. Kate and Mayme had a more volatile relationship, Kate often had dreams where Mayme would in some way embarrass the family- she took them very seriously and although they were dreams Mayme would be relentlessly hounded about them.
His three brothers, away for school, or fighting in a war were not terribly present.

Eventually finding himself in better health, Roman began to make trips down to the market just to leave the house. There he met a young man named Ira Rice, who came to be his best friend. Ira was the son of a baker, and it was rare that he was not busy, but Roman found any reason he could to visit.

At the age of fourteen the sudden passing of his mother rocked the family, it was a day of incredible sorrow, Mayme, having found her dead, was forever changed. Two weeks later, they receive news that his brother, the second eldest, Malcolm, died the very same day as their mother in a bunker- a bunker where an undetonated thought to be useless grenade one of his fellow soldiers was saving as a souvenir hit the floor erupted, and set off the other explosives with them, killing a total of six people.
His father moves on and remarries nearly seven months later to a woman named Olall, nearly half his age.

During this time Ira, his best friend, also becomes his first love. They engaged in a chaste but gripping romance- but it was far too brief for Roman. He finds that Ira is engaged to a young woman with some status and in jealousy ceased to see him. Roman retreated to his family’s summer home and stayed there to brood, finding some comfort in anguishing alone.

After a year of living in the summer home he is met with the news that his beloved sister, Mayme, has died of childbirth to an unknown father. His brother, Lawrence Jr., refused to let the child be sent off to other relations, and instead took the child himself. Their father, Lawrence Sr. was incensed by the idea, as he was sure it would in some way tarnish their family name and renounced Lawrence Jr. as his son, effectively making them both just Lawrence.

When Roman received the letter he in agony was made to scream only to have a burst of flame escape him- further upsetting him as he believed for that time that he was in hell.
It was the first manifestation of his magic outside of his persistent seemingly feverish state and extraordinary tolerance of heat.
It was also the last of their summer home. It burnt away in an absolute fit of panic.

With little hesitation he was enlisted in the Vanguard when word got out that he had magic. It was, according to his brother, William, a way to ingratiate himself to his father once more.

coded by @Galactic
 
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Cashi

New Member
(Okay done.)

ILYA ZABOLOTSKY
Notes

❝ psyche. ❞

【vices】
— Cold, quick-tempered, unsociable, hasty
【virtues】— Loyal, strong, sharp, fearless
【fatal flaw】— A combination of his recklessness and soft spot for outcasts.
【happiest memory】— Christmas eve, after midnight mass, when he had a snowball fight with his mother and then they went home and had Christmas cake.
【a secret】— The reason he and his mother fled to England is because he was seen using his water magic. The witch hunters are aware of his existence, though they do not know his location.

Visage
Ilya has close cropped blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and a permanently dour expression. He stands at 6'5", well-muscled and intimidating, and it is not uncommon to find smudges of dirt or grease somewhere on his person; especially on his hands or around his nail beds. He has been described as "built like a brick shit-house" more than once, and has been found to be just as immovable. His clothing is well worn and practical, usually a combination of a plain (dirty) linen shirt and his work coveralls. Should he go out to market to purchase anything for the autoshop, he brings along his flatcap and a rough denim jacket. Ilya has a small scar on his upper lip and a beauty mark at his neck and at his jawline.
Ilya
24
Heterosexual
Male
Capricorn
Water
PERSONALITY
Stoic, stubborn, glacial, and tough. These are accurate descriptors for the resident Russian. His interactions with the shop customers are brief and infrequent, generally only occurring when everyone else in the shop is occupied or running errands. He is known for his competence with a motor, not for catering to matrons. Customer interactions with Ilya tend to elicit monosyllabic responses as the shop goer tries to awkwardly communicate their need to the mechanic, whose posture is unconsciously hostile with his arms crossed over his chest. As such, most of the other mechanics interact with the customers while Ilya works steadily in the back, half under the frame of a car or crouched by the skeleton of a motorbike. His outings are different, however, and when he visits other stores (like the bakery in front of the station that has the pretty shop girl he will never be able to speak with normally) his demeanor is slightly unsure, as he becomes hyper aware of his size and of the people around him. Eye contact with persons he is uncertain how to interact with becomes difficult. Despite his naturally intimidating nature, Ilya has a classic soft spot, especially for neighbourhood cats and children, or those beaten down by the world. His mother was devoutly Christian, a religion she passed on to her son. Ilya will say grace before every meal and carries a thick silver cross beneath his shirt (the most expensive thing he owns).
WEAKNESSES
On a similar note with his frosty exterior, Ilya does not deal with anger well, most bouts of fury accompanied by physical reactions and occasionally violence. It is easier for Ilya to use his fists rather than his words, and it becomes challenging for him to keep his cool, especially when he (or those he cares about) is insulted. This can make him a liability as he cannot be 100% trusted to keep a level head. His experiences with the world have made him, for the most part, taciturn and unfriendly, and he can be incredibly defensive about slights against himself, but most especially slights against his family. Many a fight has been started and finished by him when the wrong person says something bad about his late mother; any mention that she was a Bol will unlock that anger in a hot second, as his pride in his family and home country are unprecedented. Ilya has also been known to leap before he looks: that is to say he has formulated erroneous conclusions about circumstances before and made rash decisions that may have been prevented had he taken a bit longer to assess the situation.
SKILLS & ABILITIES
Ilya is just chock-a-block with natural strength from his years of physical labour. His punches are hard and heavy-hitting, and despite his size and weight he is deceptively light on his feet and can hold his own in an unfair fight. In another time and another place, he might have made a good bodyguard, but alas in this life he is a simple grease monkey. His skills with anything mechanical are incredible, and he maps out blueprints in his head of different automobiles he wants to try and build in the future. Should he be with you when your car breaks down, it won't be dysfunctional for long. His dream when he was young was to be a mechanical engineer.
His height, cold, piercing stare and general air of bad-asserey also give him a +5 to intimidation.
In combat, Ilya has been trained with a sniper rifle, though the lessons were infrequent and he may not be as skilled as others. He prefers to use his fists, or whatever melee weapon is lying around (such as, perhaps, a lead pipe).
Ilya received his water magic from his father, but having kept it hidden and under lock for so long, is vastly unsure of how to use it. His mother forbade him from ever experimenting with it, lest he be caught by a witch hunter and killed for his natural ability.


RELATIONSHIPS
Ekaterina Zabolotsky ----- Mother (deceased)
Piotr Zabolotsky ----- Father (deceased)
Sacha Petrikov ----- Best Friend (former)
Dominik Chernyshevsky ----- Autoshop Owner
BACKSTORY

Ilya was born in Moscow, Russia, to a mother who worked as a seamstress and a father who was drafted into the war only a few years after he was born. While his father fought near the frontlines, Ilya's mother worked as much as she could while raising an infant to provide for her family. Ilya's relations on his mother's side were dead, and the relations on his father's side were estranged, having moved to Germany before he was born. Ilya hardly knew his father before news of his father's death was brought to his mother via telegram one spring morning. Shortly after, Russia entered into negotiations with The Union, exhausted from the fighting and seeking the best possible outcome for Mother Russia. After the alliance was formed, Ilya's mother immigrated with him in tow to England and found a tiny apartment shared with two other families to live in. While she worked day in and day out, Ilya befriended the children of the other families and life passed normally for a time.
Or so Ilya thought.
When he turned 13 his mother was arrested for being a rebel, and a few days after her imprisonment was executed along with other the "Bols", as the English called them, in her underground group. Now alone, Ilya was assigned to a government agent as an orphan, who gave him to a mechanic known for taking in orphaned Russian boys to work at his shop. There, Ilya grew into the withdrawn, glacial person he is today.
After a whole year of pestering, one Russian boy in the shop--Sacha--finally weedled his way under Ilya's icy exterior and they became unlikely friends. Ilya chased off the other boys who liked to bully Sacha for being smaller than the rest of them. It became a symbiotic relationship of Sacha providing Ilya with the trust and human interaction that Ilya needed, and Ilya being the immovable wall between Sacha and the run-of-the-mill bullies in the city quarter the autoshop was situated in. For a number of years it was Sacha and Ilya against the world, and they dreamed plans together of rising from the dregs of the city to high society through their hard earned merits. Ilya wanted to be a mechanical engineer and design and create automobiles, and Sacha wanted to be a pilot. Late at night, they would sketch blueprints of airplanes and automobiles, and sometimes when they were in particularly good spirits, automobiles with the potential power to fly.
Their relationship changed one winter, shortly after Ilya's birthday (January 5th), when Sacha and Ilya spent a few hours away from the shop to pick up parts from a donor outside the city limits. The donor's small farm resided next to a river, which Illya and Sacha decided to skate around in their boots for fun before they would have to pick up the parts.
It all happened very abruptly: one moment Sacha was laughing at Ilya for falling over, and the next he was under the ice, sucked away by the river, the broken pieces of snow and slush bobbing gently from where he'd fallen in. It was sheer panic that had Ilya shattering the ice with his powers and throwing it to either side as he searched for Sacha. He plucked his friend from the frigid, black current with a wave of brackish water and placed him gently on a tiny floe of ice, then pulled the floe to him and, finally able to grab Sacha physically, strong-armed him to shore. He did not notice that the parts donor watched everything from the window.
Sacha became distant after that and their friendship grew strained. Eventually, Sacha moved away to another part of the city, working as an inventor's assistant, and Ilya never saw him again.
Ilya had struggled so hard to hide his powers from the world, and he was mostly successful. However, his slip-up observed by the parts donor that day by the river would throw him into the path of The Vanguard, and alter his destiny forever.
code by valen t.


Name: Ilya Zabolotsky
Age: 24
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Zodiac: Capricorn
Element: Water

❝ psyche. ❞

【vices】
— Cold, quick-tempered, unsociable, hasty
【virtues】— Loyal, strong, sharp, fearless
【fatal flaw】— A combination of his recklessness and soft spot for outcasts.
【happiest memory】— Christmas eve, after midnight mass, when he had a snowball fight with his mother and then they went home and had Christmas cake.
【a secret】— The reason he and his mother fled to England is because he was seen using his water magic. The witch hunters are aware of his existence, though they do not know his location.

Visage
Ilya has close cropped blond hair, piercing blue eyes, and a permanently dour expression. He stands at 6'5", well-muscled and intimidating, and it is not uncommon to find smudges of dirt or grease somewhere on his person; especially on his hands or around his nail beds. He has been described as "built like a brick shit-house" more than once, and has been found to be just as immovable. His clothing is well worn and practical, usually a combination of a plain (dirty) linen shirt and his work coveralls. Should he go out to market to purchase anything for the autoshop, he brings along his flatcap and a rough denim jacket. Ilya has a small scar on his upper lip and a beauty mark at his neck and at his jawline.

Personality:
Stoic, stubborn, glacial, and tough. These are accurate descriptors for the resident Russian. His interactions with the shop customers are brief and infrequent, generally only occurring when everyone else in the shop is occupied or running errands. He is known for his competence with a motor, not for catering to matrons. Customer interactions with Ilya tend to elicit monosyllabic responses as the shop goer tries to awkwardly communicate their need to the mechanic, whose posture is unconsciously hostile with his arms crossed over his chest. As such, most of the other mechanics interact with the customers while Ilya works steadily in the back, half under the frame of a car or crouched by the skeleton of a motorbike. His outings are different, however, and when he visits other stores (like the bakery in front of the station that has the pretty shop girl he will never be able to speak with normally) his demeanor is slightly unsure, as he becomes hyper aware of his size and of the people around him. Eye contact with persons he is uncertain how to interact with becomes difficult. Despite his naturally intimidating nature, Ilya has a classic soft spot, especially for neighbourhood cats and children, or those beaten down by the world. His mother was devoutly Christian, a religion she passed on to her son. Ilya will say grace before every meal and carries a thick silver cross beneath his shirt (the most expensive thing he owns).

Weaknesses:
On a similar note with his frosty exterior, Ilya does not deal with anger well, most bouts of fury accompanied by physical reactions and occasionally violence. It is easier for Ilya to use his fists rather than his words, and it becomes challenging for him to keep his cool, especially when he (or those he cares about) is insulted. This can make him a liability as he cannot be 100% trusted to keep a level head. His experiences with the world have made him, for the most part, taciturn and unfriendly, and he can be incredibly defensive about slights against himself, but most especially slights against his family. Many a fight has been started and finished by him when the wrong person says something bad about his late mother; any mention that she was a Bol will unlock that anger in a hot second, as his pride in his family and home country are unprecedented. Ilya has also been known to leap before he looks: that is to say he has formulated erroneous conclusions about circumstances before and made rash decisions that may have been prevented had he taken a bit longer to assess the situation.

Skills & Abilities:
Ilya is just chock-a-block with natural strength from his years of physical labour. His punches are hard and heavy-hitting, and despite his size and weight he is deceptively light on his feet and can hold his own in an unfair fight. In another time and another place, he might have made a good bodyguard, but alas in this life he is a simple grease monkey. His skills with anything mechanical are incredible, and he maps out blueprints in his head of different automobiles he wants to try and build in the future. Should he be with you when your car breaks down, it won't be dysfunctional for long. His dream when he was young was to be a mechanical engineer.
His height, cold, piercing stare and general air of bad-asserey also give him a +5 to intimidation.
In combat, Ilya has been trained with a sniper rifle, though the lessons were infrequent and he may not be as skilled as others. He prefers to use his fists, or whatever melee weapon is lying around (such as, perhaps, a lead pipe).
Ilya received his water magic from his father, but having kept it hidden and under lock for so long, is vastly unsure of how to use it. His mother forbade him from ever experimenting with it, lest he be caught by a witch hunter and killed for his natural ability.

Backstory:
Ilya was born in Moscow, Russia, to a mother who worked as a seamstress and a father who was drafted into the war only a few years after he was born. While his father fought near the frontlines, Ilya's mother worked as much as she could while raising an infant to provide for her family. Ilya's relations on his mother's side were dead, and the relations on his father's side were estranged, having moved to Germany before he was born. Ilya hardly knew his father before news of his father's death was brought to his mother via telegram one spring morning. Shortly after, Russia entered into negotiations with The Union, exhausted from the fighting and seeking the best possible outcome for Mother Russia. After the alliance was formed, Ilya's mother immigrated with him in tow to England and found a tiny apartment shared with two other families to live in. While she worked day in and day out, Ilya befriended the children of the other families and life passed normally for a time.
Or so Ilya thought.
When he turned 13 his mother was arrested for being a rebel, and a few days after her imprisonment was executed along with other the "Bols", as the English called them, in her underground group. Now alone, Ilya was assigned to a government agent as an orphan, who gave him to a mechanic known for taking in orphaned Russian boys to work at his shop. There, Ilya grew into the withdrawn, glacial person he is today.
After a whole year of pestering, one Russian boy in the shop--Sacha--finally weedled his way under Ilya's icy exterior and they became unlikely friends. Ilya chased off the other boys who liked to bully Sacha for being smaller than the rest of them. It became a symbiotic relationship of Sacha providing Ilya with the trust and human interaction that Ilya needed, and Ilya being the immovable wall between Sacha and the run-of-the-mill bullies in the city quarter the autoshop was situated in. For a number of years it was Sacha and Ilya against the world, and they dreamed plans together of rising from the dregs of the city to high society through their hard earned merits. Ilya wanted to be a mechanical engineer and design and create automobiles, and Sacha wanted to be a pilot. Late at night, they would sketch blueprints of airplanes and automobiles, and sometimes when they were in particularly good spirits, automobiles with the potential power to fly.
Their relationship changed one winter, shortly after Ilya's birthday (January 5th), when Sacha and Ilya spent a few hours away from the shop to pick up parts from a donor outside the city limits. The donor's small farm resided next to a river, which Illya and Sacha decided to skate around in their boots for fun before they would have to pick up the parts.
It all happened very abruptly: one moment Sacha was laughing at Ilya for falling over, and the next he was under the ice, sucked away by the river, the broken pieces of snow and slush bobbing gently from where he'd fallen in. It was sheer panic that had Ilya shattering the ice with his powers and throwing it to either side as he searched for Sacha. He plucked his friend from the frigid, black current with a wave of brackish water and placed him gently on a tiny floe of ice, then pulled the floe to him and, finally able to grab Sacha physically, strong-armed him to shore. He did not notice that the parts donor watched everything from the window.
Sacha became distant after that and their friendship grew strained. Eventually, Sacha moved away to another part of the city, working as an inventor's assistant, and Ilya never saw him again.
Ilya had struggled so hard to hide his powers from the world, and he was mostly successful. However, his slip-up observed by the parts donor that day by the river would throw him into the path of The Vanguard, and alter his destiny forever.

Relationships:
Ekaterina Zabolotsky ----- Mother (deceased)
Piotr Zabolotsky ----- Father (deceased)
Sacha Petrikov ----- Best Friend (former)
Dominik Chernyshevsky ----- Autoshop Owner
 
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Arzee

pepodj
ezgif-7-3d0403b5de2f.gif

Delvin Connelly.

courage as unbreakable as stone,

just try to get passed.
❝ cursory information. ❞

【full name】— Delvin Seamus
O'Connell
【nickname(s)】— Dev
【gender】— Male
【age】— Thirty
【sexuality】— Bisexual
【zodiac】— Taurus
【element】— Earth

❝ background. ❞

Born outside of Boyle, Ireland to a poor farming family with his two parents and three siblings with Delvin being the second child. He lived in the province that was hit the hardest during the famine which had been on a sloth pace climb to recovery. Delvin and his family would've sailed for New Columbia if not for his sick mother who had typhoid a few years after Delvin's youngest brother was born, so they spent their days all alone on their farm with the passers by that happened to make their way through their farm where they could sell whatever crops they had left. Life was dull until the Great War started, Delvin would eventually lose his mother and Ireland was contesting the idea of Home Rule after years of exploitation by the British. He and his family were staunch nationalists and anti-crown and it wouldn't be long until tensions would flare up. But the O'Connell's were dwindling in their poor state. Delvin's father had pneumonia and it was a matter of time before it would be him and his siblings. Delvin knew that as much as his labor was necessary for ensuring his family's survival he was just another mouth to feed, so he discussed joining the army which was met with enragement. But Delvin had already prepared himself to abandon his family, and he did one night leaving his family behind until he went to join the Connaught Rangers, an Irish regiment where recruits came from the Connaught province. After being admitted, Delvin was sent to South Africa where fighting was held between the British and the Germans who were supporting the weakened Boer Republics where Delvin distinguished himself as reliable and a guardian of those he fought with, saving his brothers in arms from near death. One instance was where Delvin discovered his earth bending powers. Delvin and his squamates had come across a soldier not from their regiment who was badly wounded. As Delvin tried to tend to him, they saw an artillery round head towards them. Delvin shielded the wounded soldier and as he did, a thick layer of the earth covered him, taking the impact of the shell and the explosion. When it has subsided, it took a while for everyone to process. Eventually Delvin reported the incident to his commanding officer who then informed him that he was going to England where he would join the Vanguard and harness his earth bending abilities as well as anglicizing his name.

❝ relationships. ❞

【father】— Bryan O'Connell. Currently has pneumonia and head of the O'Connell family

【older brother】— Shane O'Connell, primary caretaker who works in a factory to provide for his family
【younger sister】— Rose O'Connell, the only daughter of the O'Connell family who works alongside her brother
【younger brother】— Jamie O'Connell, the youngest son who works as a paper boy

❝ abilities. ❞

Delvin's abilities encompass basic geokinetic abilities. He can levitate pieces of earth and stone as well as bring thick slabs of earth from the ground to form walls to provide cover or can be propelled. Delvin can also use this ability to make shelter if need be. He can compress pieces of earth into smaller bits to use almost like bullets, propelling them at high speeds. Further training has also allowed Delvin to utilize earth related elements like metal and crystal to his advantage using the same abilities he would with earth. He can also magnetize himself to metal surfaces allowing himself to tread on them.

❝ psyche. ❞

【vices】— stubborn, intolerant, overly modest, secretive
【virtues】— passionate, optimistic, courageous, selfless
【fatal flaw】— self deprecation
【happiest memory】— Spending summers at the farmers market with his family
【a secret】— Delvin writes letters to his sister sending her money via a trusted friend from his service in South Africa

❝ visage. ❞

Delvin stands at 5'11, weighing 187 lbs. He has scars all over his fit and chiseled body from his times deployed as a soldier.


&&— ❝ warden of valor. ❞

 
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wickedlittlecritta

the once and future twink
Devin Murphy
"Beidh lá eile ag an bPaorach"
  • Name: Devin Murphy/Damhán Ó Murchú (Birth name redacted)
    Age: 29
    Sexuality: Bisexual
    Zodiac: Gemini
    Element: Air
    Languages: English, Irish
    Height: 5’3”
    Weight: 136lbs
    Appearance: Small, slight, and covered in freckles, Devin is deceptively cute. He's in possession of big blue eyes, a button nose, and dark lashes, and he abuses all of them. He doesn't pass particularly well, but is more likely to be mistaken for a pre-teen boy than a woman. He's over dressed at all times--full suits, tails, brocades, silks, linens, the works. Is probably wearing rings on every finger. Tacky. Decadent. Living his best live.
 
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WalkingDogo

New Member
Vayla Kaur


  • Name: Vayla Kaur
    Alias: Sepoy Dalbir Singh
    Age: 22
    Sexuality: Homosexual
    Zodiac: Aquarius
    Element: Water
    Languages: Punjabi, Hindi, English


 
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StormWolf

Elder Member

  • Name: Roland Valland McCann
    Age: 28
    Sexuality: Probably Hetero
    Zodiac: Aries
    Element: Gun
 
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Archived

Peckinou

The world just isn't fun without a little chaos.

  • Name: Resie Báthory
    (Austrian Alies: Jan Kelu)
    (British Alies: Kani Valor)
    (Austrian Agency Cose Name: Aegis)
    Age: 22
    Sexuality: Bisexual
    Zodiac: Capricorn
 
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Hell0NHighWater

Queen of Hell

⊰ Valentin Auclair ⊱


❝Nothing ever ends poetically; It just ends; Then we force it to become poetry. All that blood was never once beautiful. Just red.❞





GENERAL INFO


Nickname : Val
Age : 25
Gender :Male
Nationality :French
Sexuality : Pansexual
Element :Spirit
Zodiac :Aries
Physical Description :All skin and bones with barely any muscle definition, Valentin has always looked, to some degree, as if he were minutes away from starvation. The dark bags under his eyes from years of not getting a full night's rest only seem to enhance the sharpness of his facial features. Val isn't that tall—approximately 5'7" with boots on. He is very particular about his hair for some reason and constantly remarks about having to have some standards in life. His ice blue eyes are probably the most notable feature about him.



PERSONALITY

Personality :Valentin Auclair is quite literally: a chain smoking, foul mouthed, working class, anti-establishment, cynical adrenaline addicted human Ouija board. Despite all of the drugs and alcohol he's pumped into his body over the years, Valentin is extremely intelligent though he often underplays his own cognitive ability, preferring instead to remain always underestimated. Valentin’s self-serving tendencies has ruined more relationships in his life than he would care to admit. He is not an easy person to get along with, but only when he's sober. Val does display, on occasion, a compassionate, humanist side, and is not afraid of risking his life for a heroic cause.
Likes :Poetry, Photography, Wine (red preferred), Cigarettes, Music, Money (though he never seems to have any)
Dislikes :Authority, Altruism, Being Sober, Others Self-Depreciation, Rats, Ghosts, Religion
Weaknesses :Selfish, Foul-Mouthed, Alcoholic, Drug Addict, Doesn't Sleep, Impulsive, Cynical, PTSD, Trust issues, Panic Attacks
Strengths :Smart boy, Charismatic when high/drunk, His joie de vivre, Bold, Decent shot w/pistols, Humanist
Fears :Rats, Ghosts, Pitch-black darkness, Watching people he cares about die, religious zealots
Vibes :The Cult of Dionysus ✨ The Orion Experience & Blood - MCR



DETAILS

Bio : Even as an infant his life was a cruel joke without a punchline. Abandoned and left on the steps on a cathedral in Rocamadour, France, Valentin started his early years in the care of priests. Of whom weren't very understanding once Valentin started talking to people they couldn't see. Forced outAdopted at the age of six, Valentin's childhood thereafter was anything but glamorous. The couple that had adopted him weren't any more understanding than the priests. The woman—his adoptive mother—would lock him in the broom closet if she even suspected that he was conversing with the devil.

Needless to say, at the age of fourteen, he ran away. Got on a train and went to Paris. While he was there, he found a job as a paperboy and slept on park benches. On one particular occasion, an older gentleman saw him sleeping there and offered him lodging. The gentleman was Francis Abbe, a rather well off factory owner. He offered Val a job. Paid in advance for an apartment. And gave Valentin his first taste of sin.

Between shifts, Valentin would sit on the fire escape and smoke. Meanwhile Francis would wax poetic about the nobility of fighting for his country —though he himself could not enlist. They conversed like men with strong ideals that could only be applied to the reality within their own heads. And then, he died.
Shot down in the streets. The police said it was a 'botched robbery', but Valentin knew otherwise. He knew that Francis had been shot by a hitman. He knew that hitman was connected to the Union sacrée. And he knew where to find him. Because Francis had told him.
His friend's anger was so strong that his spirit continued to hound Valentin, day in and day out, constantly, without end. It was maddening.

Valentin told himself later as he was cleaning the blood off his hands, that he would never listen to the dead again.

Only he did, because a week later he was standing in front of the army recruitment offices.
He thought that maybe, enlisting would get him as far away from Paris as possible. He didn't really think about the fact that wars killed people. It wasn't until he was knee deep in mud, cowering from the wails of the dead in the middle of a battle that he realized his mistake. The First Battle of Champagne had been his first experience with combat, and what he saw in those two years would haunt him just as doggedly as the spirits of the dead.

After a while, Valentin learned to 'ignore' the things he saw by drinking copious amounts of alcohol and shooting heroin into his veins. But even with all the drugs, reality had a way of catching up with him.

It was toward the end of his third year at war when he found himself sandwiched between decomposing corpses. Valentin had passed out, embarrassingly due to inebriation and his comrades thought him dead—tossing him into a mass grave. He was in that pit for days, screaming until his voice gave out. It was two when the rats came. Gnawing. Biting. Scratching at his flesh.
Desperation leads people to strange places, and for Valentin, that place was pleading with the dead for their help.

Needless to say, Valentin got out of the pit, but it wasn't without incident.
The soldiers throwing corpses into the pit didn't take too kindly to one of them crawling out and shot on sight. It was pure luck—and a little magic—that both shots missed him. It was more than luck—definitely magic—that ripped the hearts out of those men's chests.

Left with little choice, Valentin deserted, managed to hop a train to London, and found himself wandering the streets aimlessly.
He heard a rumor circling in the various social circles he found himself unexpectedly participating in, that there were others like him. People who were able to do the impossible. Control fire, bend earth, shape water—things that anyone normal shouldn't have been able to do.

Curiosity and whiskey—lots of whiskey—lead Valentin to the Vanguard, but it was the idea that he could have the capabilities to protect him from himself that made him sign.

Powers :Valentin is able to talk to the dead, sometimes even channel them, and bring their spirit to the real world as a physical entity for a short amount of time. He is only able to do this when he is sober and often struggles with interacting with the dead on a daily basis.




⊰ La vie est trop courte pour boire du mauvais vin ⊱
 
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L0ck0n

Your Friendly Neighborhood Weeb

Nickname:

Sil

Age:

25

Sexuality:

Bi-Sexual

Zodiac:

Libra

Nationality:

Greek

Parents:

Father - Greek: Adrian Laskaris

Mother - Italian: Emilia Laskaris (Mage - Water)
basics

Weaknesses:

Indecisiveness,
Ditzy, Distrustful, Irritable, Unsophisticated

Strengths:

Diplomatic, Social,
Witty, Humorous,
Optimistic, Sympathetic​

integrity


Elemental:

:bishiesparklesr: Spirit :bishiesparklesl:


Chakra and soul, though similar, are different. Draining someone's soul fuels Vaslis illusions for everyone to see, but in turn causes her to take in a part of a person's memories. Chakra is energy from emotions, and Vasilis can take Chakra to manifest her protective barriers, but in turn she absorbs a person's emotions.

Absorbing too much can cause her to feel dizzy, and become heavily disoriented. Over time it has caused Vasilis to suffer from nightmares, and questions her own memories as the memories of others are mixed in with her own. Because she intakes a heavy amount of emotions Vasilis struggles with controlling them. Because of the nightmares from various memories Vasilis has trouble sleeping, and just like the illusions she creates she has illusions in her head that she wishes would go away. Her body temperature spikes, causing a fever, when she uses up all of the stored energy. If she continues past that, completely depleting her own soul and chakra energies, then she will faint. Alcohol, and drugs severely limit Vasilis if not outright stop her from being able to use her powers. The most important part of her magic? Energy can only be taken through touch. Physical contact.


It's a struggle being a mage of her element. On one hand she can create something out of nothing from an outside perspective, learn certain things from people she would otherwise not know - that they would prefer to take to their grave, and can protect herself if need be. But, the question has always been, at what cost?

element
Vasilis Laskaris


Appearance:

Vasilis has blonde hair that has seen better days. She either has a self cut pixie do, or let's it grow to short shoulder length hair. Her weight fluctuates which she does not care about, and she carries herself in a tomboyish manner. She stands at a whopping 5'5 with size 7 shoe if anyone is looking to buy her a gift (she prefers boots - they last long). Blue eyes complete her facial look along with a full set of lips that she uses to throw insults to the sad fellows who attempt to cross her path.

tumblr_38733a65ab42f3a13c060f2bc3df05d1_2d979c88_1280.png

Personality:

Vasilis has an easygoing nature with a cheerful personality, and gives away smiles like confetti at a parade. Kind hearted to a fault Vasilis is easy to befriend, and makes friends in return. She enjoys a good conversation, and jokes even more so. They keep her spirits up (pun intended), and go hand in hand with her mischievous attitude. Good humor goes a long way.

Because of the darker view on humanity she has received due to her magic abilities she understands that many are not who they say they are. Vasilis will keep people at arm's length, and does not put her trust in strangers. She can be quick to anger, and easy to provoke, but she's working on it.

On the battlefield Vasilis weaknesses emerge. She would rather follow orders than decide them due to her indecisiveness to commit to a decision. Over time, being able to understand both sides of a story has caused Vasilis to consider certain options before acting on them. She's not a complete loss once she makes a decision or comes to her own conclusion if need be, but she chooses to be a follower instead of a leader. A middle-man instead of right or left winged. Switzerland if visuals are needed. This can be a good thing, but it has caused more harm than good when someone can’t dedicate themselves to one side.

At the current time Vasilis struggles with understanding who she is. There are more memories than she can process, and various emotions that she has yet to understand. Who is she? What is her purpose? Is it all really meaningless? Those are questions she would like answered, preferably before death.

Vasilis Laskaris did not have much schooling in her younger years, and she struggles with processing certain difficult concepts due to her current altered state at times. She understands she is not the smartest or most clever person to exist, the complete opposite actually, but she is eager to learn. Curiosity usually kills the cat, but Vasilis stays standing in a world where the odds are against her.


Background:

There’s a simple way to describe the life of Vasilis, and that’s by saying she’s a mage. In a world where magic is feared far worse than Satan himself that should be all that needs to be said. But, to understand where Vasilis is coming from then dipping into a bit of her past life would help.

Vasilis' father was drafted to fight in the Balkan Wars in 1895, and though he survived the 1st war he was presumed dead during the 2nd war. With the upsetting news of her father her mother left whatever life they had in Greece (which wasn't much), and moved to Italy where she found work as a teacher in a public school. When they moved Emilia, Vasilis mother, found out that Vasilis was able to create illusions. She demanded that Vasilis never use it in front of others she does not trust. If she did they would be killed without mercy. 5 years after moving to Italy Emilia became ill, and passed from an illness that could have been cured with the right amount of money. Vasilis was left with no known relative to care for her, and ended up on the streets, orphaned, with nowhere to go. She learned from others on the streets how to survive, and used what she could to stay alive.

During her time stealing Vasilis set her sights on a restaurant. She had never stolen from an establishment before, and the mission was a total failure to say the least. She got caught, but instead of being arrested the woman promised Vailis food and lodging in return for work. It was an offer Vasilis did not refuse, though she questioned the woman's motives. Her time there was not wasted as Mrs. Katsaros, the owner of the restaurant, taught Vasilis how to read and write properly, how to throw a few punches for defense, guided her on using magic in a less self destructive manner, and showed her the way of the tarot. In time, both Vasilis and Mrs. Katsaros had seen each other as family, and Vasilis enjoyed her time there as it was the most positive growth she was ever allowed to have. It felt like home. Something she had not felt even with her parents. That peace did not last as an attack was carried out by Witchfinder individuals that harbor hate towards mages. A rumor spread of the restaurant protecting and providing for mages, and the Witchfinders did not like that. There was no proof of such a thing happening, but the restaurant was burned, and the owner killed. With a heavy heart Vasilis went back into hiding.

Again, Vasilis was on the streets, surviving, but this time knew what she needed to do to stay alive. During her time back on the street her pick-pocketing game was much better, but again she made a mistake that cost her. Instead of simply surviving she was now running. She got her hands in the wrong pockets, and in the wrong pants. A well ranked mobsters daughters pants to be precise. Oops.

During her time on the run she landed a few side gigs to keep her afloat, and moved around so as to not stay in one place. She had no home, no family, no meaning to life other than taking it day by day. With news of being pardoned as a mage for serving as a soldier in the current war, Vasilis decided to take that opportunity. For what reason? She was not sure. Maybe, just maybe, she could find her reason for living through serving as a soldier.
code by valen t.
 
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horses

ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ
Eben
Hudnall
“I am never alone wherever I am. The air itself supplies me with a century of love. When I breathe in, I am breathing in the laughter, tears, victories, passions, thoughts, memories, existence, joys, moments, and the hues of the sunlight on many tones of skin; I am breathing in the same air that was exhaled by many before me. The air that bore them life. And so how can I ever say that I am alone?”
01
cursory information
full name
Eben Norah Hudnall
gender
Male
age
30
sexuality
Heterosexual
zodiac
Aquarius
element
Air
02
background
Eben was born to the sixteen-year-old daughter of a clergyman and a nineteen-year-old farmhand, in a small rural town in Wales. Of course, upon finding out that his daughter was pregnant, Eben's grandfather forced his parents into marriage. In order to provide for his new family, Eben's father moved them from Wales to London. He took up a grueling job in a factory, while Eben's mother stayed home to care for their son -- and eventually, their daughter. Eben's sister, Katheryne, was born when Eben was ten years old. At first, he wasn't a fan. Going from an only child to sharing everything was difficult, especially since they were rather poor and didn't have much to begin with. However, living with a mostly absent father and a rather neglectful mother brough Eben and his sister closer and closer as they got older. When Eben turned eighteen and moved out of his parents' byelaw terraced house and into his own, he brought his eight-year-old sister to live with him.

Eben's powers did not make an appearance until he was thirteen. While sitting outside with three-year-old Katheryne, their mother taking one of her drunken naps, his sister wandered into the street. By the time Eben noticed, a carriage was approaching his sister rather quickly. Neither the horses nor the driver seemed to notice the small child in their path. Nearly frozen with panic, Eben reached out towards his sister and screamed her name. Suddenly, there was a sound that resembled a gush of strong wind. Then, the carriage had tumbled on its side -- mere inches in front of the oblivious Katheryne. Eben quickly scooped up his sister and ran inside, never speaking of this incident with anyone. In his alone time, he practiced controlling his new powers and became quite good at it. Making things float was a good party trick, if nothing else.

When Eben moved out, he got a job as a door-to-door typewriter salesman. A boring and repetitive job, sure, but it was enough to provide for him and his sister. Only a few weeks into new career, Eben happened to knock of the door of a lovely young Japanese woman named Aimi. Two weeks later, she was pregnant. Eben did just what his father had, and they were married after only a month of knowing each other. Despite this, their life was quite a lovely one. Aimi and Katheryne adored each other, and Eben very quickly fell in love with his new wife. Over the next decade, they went on to have four beautiful daughters -- Carrie, Gray, Annora, and Celinda. Eben eventually moved up to a management position for his company, earning him his own office -- where Aimi worked as his secretary. They even moved out of their two-bedroom townhouse and into a much larger one -- with indoor plumbing, even!

Yes, life was going very well for Eben -- or so he thought. Ten years into his marriage, at the age of twenty-eight, he came home to find Aimi in bed with another man. Devastated and heartbroken, but refusing to stay in a loveless marriage like his parents, Eben divorced his wife. He allowed her to keep the house, wanting his daughters to have a nice place to grow up. Katheryne, now an adult herself, decided to stay with Aimi and help raise the girls. Eben moved into a small one-bedroom flat a few blocks away from the house, and he often visited the girls when their mother was out. Aimi continued to work as Eben's secretary, which worked out for awhile -- until it didn't. Seeing the only woman he ever loved everyday and not being able to kiss her or even touch her was mentally exhausting. Aimi had even gone on to publically date the man she cheated on Eben with. Not wanting Aimi to lose her job, Eben resigned.

At this point, Eben had felt completely hopeless. He was nearly twenty-nine, single, and jobless. He didn't even have friends, other than Katheryne and his daughters.

For a short period of time, Eben turned to a life of alcoholism and self-pity. However, after about a year of essentially becoming his mother, he knew that he couldn't go on like that. His daughters deserved a better father than that. So, in the midst of a raging war, he enlisted in the military.

The Vanguard, to be specific.
03
relationships
father
Rolland Hudnall | Living
mother
Alexandra Hudnall née Pelley | Living
Sister
Katheryne Hudnall | Living
Ex-Wife
Aimi Hudnall née Yoshioka | Living
Daughters
Carrie, Gray, Annora, & Celinda Hudnall | Living
04
abilities
Eben can create, shape, and manipulate air and wind. Since air cannot be seen by conventional methods, neither can Eben's attacks and deriatives formed by/from it -- making it an invisible and versatile weapon that is very difficult to dodge and block. He has recently been practicing aerokinetic flight, but is still very new to this and has yet to make it farther than a few yards. He also has the ability to purify the air around him to a certain extent, which is particularly helpful against tear gas. Along with being able to produce attacks from his hands, Eben can exhale gale-force winds. His lungs are largely expansive and take a long time to run out of air. While this ability allows Eben to survive extended periods without breathing, that doesn't mean he doesn't need air. Sooner or later, he has to breathe. In fact, all of Eben's other abilites are stronger when there is an abundance of air or wind surrounding Eben.
05
psyche
vices
Overly Picky, Gullible, Bland, & Finicky
virtues
Decent, Adaptable, Contemplative, & Understanding
fatal flaw
Instability
happiest memories
The Births Of His Daughters
secret
Still Very Much In Love With His Ex-Wife
06
visage
Eben stands at about 5'10, and he's surprisingly lean and muscular. His skin is pale with a slight olive hue, which brings out the blueness of his tired eyes. His strawberry blonde hair is always styled in a professional manner, slicked back and kept shorter on the sides. He has a strong jaw and a toothy smile, which is a rare sight. He's always wearing his thick-framed glasses, as he's blind as a bat without them. He takes his appearance very seriously and likes to appear accomplished, almost always seen in a suit and tie during his pre-military days.
code by @Nano
 

Hell0NHighWater

Queen of Hell

⋞ Arabella de Montagu ⋟


❝Darling, if I didn't want for people to fear me, I wouldn't dress like this.❞





GENERAL INFO


Nickname : Bella
Age : 24
Gender :Female
Nationality :British/New Columbian
Sexuality : Heterosexual
Element :Air
Zodiac :Virgo
Physical Description :Arabella isn't beautiful in the classical way, no flowing golden curls or ivory skin; no piercing eyes of green or blue. Her curly dark brown hair falls in soft layers around her shoulders and her eyes are a remarkably stunning shade of amber. In heels, she is almost intimidatingly tall for a woman standing just under 6 feet (without the shoes she's 5'8).



PERSONALITY

Personality :Arabella's nature is famously ruthless and cold--even towards those she actually cares about. Her morals are well decided, and not influenced by the opinions of others, she is only concerned by what is effective, and doesn't adopt rules unless they make sense to her. She values her own opinion highly, and believes or rationalizes that her path is ultimately the right one.
Likes :Shoes, Climbing, Soirées, Singing, Fencing, Horseback riding
Dislikes :Foul Language, Dirt/filth, War, Hunting, Inefficiency, 90% of the male population
Weaknesses :Brutally honest, Book smart, Emotional constipation, Inability to control the amount of dmg her powers do, can't magic scream forever, air scream has short range
Strengths :Intelligent (book smart), Multi-lingual, Understanding of high society, Strong morals
Fears :Dead bodies/Death, being outcast by society, and failing in her promise to her mother
Vibes :The Villain I Appear to Be


DETAILS

Bio : The youngest of seven and the only daughter of the well-esteemed Earl of Salisbury, William de Montagu, Arabella was born into a world of wealth and opulence. From a young age it was clear to Bella that no matter who her father was she would never fit in amongst the Ton. With a skin color darker than porcelain and the unnatural ability to manipulate air, Arabella's parents excluded her and her oldest brother, William jr., from attending any and all of the lavish parties during the season.
A month after Arabella's seventeenth birthday, tragedy struck. Harriet de Montagu, the mother of seven and beloved wife, left this world by her own volition. And as the years dragged on, Arabella's once bubbly and personable nature became colder and more distant. Constantly absorbed in her studies, Arabella hardly had much of an interest in anything that a typical young woman of her status would. Aside from her utter fascination with shoes, Bella preferred to engage in the same activities as her brothers. Fencing, horseback riding, tree climbing--everything that her painfully prim & proper Aunt absolutely detested, Arabella did.
By the time she was twenty, Bella had taken a more active role in her father's business and often travelled with him as he was sent by the crown to speak with foreign dignitaries. The war had already claimed the lives of three of her brothers, and Arabella refused to let any other members of her family die in some foolish war. It took her three years and the death of her eldest brother to finally convince her father that she--and other people like her--could bring a halt to all of the death and destruction.


Powers :Years of singing have given Arabella the ability to control over her breathing with finite efficiency. She has been known to magnify sound waves generated by an instrument, and to some extent, her own voice.




⋞ Never trade respect for attention ⋟
 
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SavannahSmiles

I Move The Stars For No One













  • name
    Olivia Andersson.

    nickname
    Liv.

    age
    24 years old.

    gender
    Female.

    sexuality
    Pansexual.

    zodiac
    Pisces.

    element
    Earth.

    hair
    Dark Brown.

    eyes
    Blue.

    height
    4'11".

    weight
    105 lbs.

    body type
    Slender.




code by low fidelity.







name: Olivia Andersson.

nickname: Liv.

age: 24 years old.

gender: Female.

sexuality: Pansexual.

zodiac: Pisces.

element: Earth.

hair: Dark Brown.

eyes: Blue.

height: 4'11".

weight: 105 lbs.

body type: Slender.


virtues: Compassion, Cheerfulness, Loyalty.

vices: Recklessness, Self-Doubt.

fatal flaw: Risking her own safety to protect the ones she cares about.

happiest memory: Planting flowers in the garden with her mother.



abilities: Olivia is able to use her own energy to make plant-life and other vegetation grow. As of right now, she is only able to control the plants she grows herself. In order for her to grow anything, first she has to have access to the corresponding seed. If her plants are destroyed, she currently does not possess the skill to revive them and must use another seed to grow them again. Growing seeds requires access to earth otherwise it will not work. Sunlight and water are not needed, as she feeds the plants using her own energy. How large she can grow plants depends on her energy level, if it is too low, the plant runs the risk of withering before she can fully utilize it. Over-extending her ability can lead to exhaustion and eventual collapse.

Current Seed List:
Twinflower (Linnaea Borealis): A poultice can be made from this flower and applied to inflamed limbs.
Mullein: This flower can be used to make antiviral, antibacterial, antifungal, anti-inflammatory, astringent, expectorant (for coughs) and astringent medicine.
English Oak (Quercus robur)
Lily of the Valley: Ingestion of any part of this plant can cause the heart to slow.
English Ivy

Mother: Assumed Deceased. She was very close to her mother, as the two of them shared a love for nature. It is uncertain what exactly happened to her mother that day on the dock, but Olivia assumes that her mother is dead.
Father: Assumed Deceased. Her father never backed down from any challenge the world threw at him, and Olivia always admired him for it. After seeing him collapse on the dock that day, she assumes that he is dead.
Nikolas: Unknown. Her best friend growing up. She is unsure if he was the one that told the Witch-Finders about her location, but she is unable to come up with any other explanation for how they found out about her.

Growing up, Olivia lived in a small cottage with her parents. They didn't have much, but they were happy. Her father worked in a warehouse further into town while her mother stayed at home taking care of the household. Though small, her home was her sanctuary, with her favorite place above all else being the small garden her mother lovingly tended to. Olivia could remember many days spent under the bright rays of the sun, dirt smeared across her nose and a beaming smile on her face as she helped her mother weed the garden. It was the place where Olivia's love for plants bloomed, later resulting in her making a garden of her own in the nearby woods, her friend Nikolas right by her side. Nikolas was a mage as well, someone she could share her secret with. The two were careful to keep their abilities a secret from the rest of their town, retreating to the woods to play together. Olivia would have been content to spend the rest of her days just like that.

But fate has a funny way of reminding you that life is fragile and brief.

When they came for her, the day seemed like any other. The sun had been shining and she had been helping her mother in the kitchen when her father burst through the door, shouting that they needed to leave, that there were Witch-Finders in the town. After that, things blurred together in their flurry to leave. They fled to the docks to seek passage out of Sweden, but they were a second too late.

In order to buy Olivia time to board the boat, her parents stayed back on the dock to try and hold the Witch-Finders off. As she stated in horror, she spotted a figure standing nearby, a figure she recognized as Nikolas. Before she could call out to him, he was forced to turn away by the Witch-Finder beside him. The last thing she saw was her father being struck down, her mothers scream echoing across the water.

The boat spirited her away to England, where she felt lost and confused. The recruiters for the Vanguard found her and soon she found herself surround by strangers, in a country that was not her home.
 

Saboona

president thot
caitrìona maclerie. ❞
Whit’s fur ye’ll no go past ye
ride the tide, cherish love​
❝ cursory information. ❞

full name— caitrìona mara maclearie.
nickname(s)— cat, kitty, cattie.
gender— female.
age— twenty-three.
sexuality— bisexual.
zodiac— cancer.
element— water.

❝ background. ❞

Life was both simple, and always exciting, to Caitriona as she grew up. Close ties with her village, her family, and the odd friend or two that she had kept her sane during the years of the never-ending war. Although her clan's village kept mostly to themselves, there were occasional trips out to the bigger cities. Goods to sell, relationships to maintain, and Kitty had been lucky enough to be brought along in her father's cart some of the times. She delighted in the sights, the smells, and the way that life was different in the big town. Every trip she was gifted a shiny red apple by her father's friend, although she usually didn't eat it and kept it simply as a treasured gift. Even as the apple rotted, falling into itself on the window sill of the room she shared with her sisters.

Her older brother was a lifeline. Although Kitty was very much in tune with her feminine siblings, who giggled by the streams when washing clothes, she liked roughhousing with her brother. Lachlan was a lean, nimble little thing that upended her more times than she could knock him down. He always taught her a few things, a few dirty hits, and the black eyes she'd show to her mother only elicited clucks of annoyance from the woman. They bonded over these trips out, nestled by the beach. Sand and blood in her hair, creased in her dress and under her fingernails were a common staple after their outings. It was less of a worry to her mother and father, although Kitty's aunts often complained about the appearance of their niece. Emily Maclearie could only shrug, "Whit’s fur ye’ll no go by ye, a wee bit of dirt and blood will nae drown the barra."

Kitty became acquainted with her brother's friends, older boys who often came in and out of town. Sent away to fight, to the cities to work, or into the highlands to evade the world. Brennan Sinclair was her second closest friend, aside from her brother. Her sisters would gossip that Brennan was soft on Kitty, but she'd shake them off. She couldn't deny her own feelings of adoration and care for Brennan, that only blossomed as they grew up, but she refused to say anything to anyone.

Although she first showed her abilities when she was just a young girl, she was not kept closeted in the village. The threats were out there, with some of the big towns and cities occasionally swept through by wandering Witchfinders, but no one looked into their little village. The family there praised Kitty's abilities with water. She flooded the well more than once on request to maintain it, and made a few coins for keeping the grass green for the livestock. For the most part, she had only a vague idea of what the world outside of her tiny community wanted with someone of her magical inheritance. Her paternal grandfather handled most of the clan's activities, and it was through his good will that nobody was privy to the innerworkings of the village.

When Kitty was eighteen, Brennan and Lachlan were swept and drafted in to fight for the Brits. As much as they hated it, everyone was living through this terrible war. They had seen how it destroyed communities, lives, and was upending the whole world. For the spirit of Scotland, and for the honour of their families, they willingly went for it. Kitty wanted to take arms too, but her mother's recent sickness kept her at home with her sisters. Before the boys head out, Brennan approached Kitty with an engagement. Overwhelmed with fear, and joy, she accepted with open arms. Knowing that he would be heading off, maybe to never return, hung like an axe over their heads. Kitty insisted they wait till he come back to marry; thereby hoping to ensure his survival on the frontlines by sparking that sentiment.

Luck was not in their favours. Two years passed and the letters finally came. Lachlan and Brennan had been killed in the line of fire. Kitty was overcome with sadness, and it was then she really dipped into her alcoholism. It was a joke for the time, but the bender she went on lasted for months. Life was nothing but grey, floating inbetween awareness and death. She felt shameful for her inaction, for the things she didn't say, and for not dying out there with them.

The only chance she saw for redemption came when the Baron came to her door, with offers of a fighting force to end the war. For more than one reason, and with a heart full of honour, she obliged.

❝ relationships. ❞

mother— emily maclearie (nee fraser) - alive.
father— donald maclearie - alive.
brother— lachlan maclearie - deceased.
sisters— caitlin, coira, crissa maclearie - all alive.
ex-fiance— brennan sinclair - deceased.

❝ abilities. ❞
kitty is well-known for her abilities to bend and manipulate liquid water. her small village, rather than shun her abilities, called upon her for coin and favour to use her powers. she would overflow wells when the water went dry, produce hidden springs for gardens and purify drinking water. most of her skills are self-trained, though she has no grip whatsoever on emotional bursts, often causing anything with water around her to become turbulent. at some point she began to heal wounds and infections, not with her powers, but by her own volition alone. her growth as a person reflects her strength in manipulating water, and although not irreverent to hiding her abilities, she does not hide the pride she has. despite everything, it is one thing that she takes seriously.

❝ psyche. ❞

vices— stubborn, suspicious, insecure, emotionally turbulent .
virtues— loyal, tenacious, outgoing, humorous
fatal flaw— pride.
happiest memory— spring in the glen with her sisters, braiding each other's hair with daisies and dandelions and then jumping into the stream.
a secret—she wouldn't tell a soul that she's a heavy drinker (good at hiding it) and has been using it to cope with traumatic experiences since she was just a girl. she's an angry alcoholic.

❝ visage. ❞

though usually contained with a hardy plait or tens of barrettes, kitty's unruly ginger locks easily slip in and out of form (not unlike a torrent of water). she can slick it back and in place with a bit of water, delaying the frizz and curl, but she's recently become infatuated with hair straighteners (easier to manage her hair with). she's got a hard face, with a short jaw and occasionally pursed lips. but then again, you're more likely to see her with a bit of a smile on her lips as well. kitty's eyes are a sea-faring green and blue, large and emotional in comparison to her 'vocal' eyebrows. she stands at about five foot three (the shortest of her siblings), and has a robust frame. she's got strong arms and legs, athletic except for her long and nimble fingers. kitty prefers simple frocks and anything that allows her to move. she likes to dress up around people she fancies, being sure to look unusually put together.

&&— ❝ the water witch. ❞
 

noonshine

Dingus McPingus

“My mother groaned, my father wept,
who?

name : Cordelia February Capes
nickname(s) : Delia, Cordy
age : 30
height : 5’10”
dob : November 15, 1887
zodiac : Scorpio
sexuality : Who has time?
strengths : adaptable, realistic, loyal, nurturing,
weaknesses : impulsive, bossy, indecisive, overbearing

what?

element : water
abilities : Cordelia considers her abilities tide like, she can push water away from herself or move it toward herself. As a little girl she was positive her and a handful of other little girls around the world were what made the tides turn, and was sorely disappointed when none of her letters were returned. With a good amount of concentration she can pull the moisture from the air to use as she pleases. So, if need be she can bring most rooms to a comfortable humidity and stir some tea.

before?

background : Cordelia grew up only somewhat aware of her powers, and knew that what ever she had imagined of them was some secret that was shared with her mother and grandmother. A maternal lineage of mages and midwives who concealed their magical abilities and, for safety, ignored or suppressed them. She was no different, without much time to spend focusing on her powers that relied on concentration she had little to fret over. Most of her time from childhood on was consumed with some schooling, and then the assisting of her mother and grandmother in anything from childcare to baby deliveries.
Her father's death when she was a teenager came as little surprised, her siblings and her were all somewhat estranged to him after he had a series of affairs. She still cared for his corpse and prepared a funeral, unyielding respectful of life.
With a particular talent for medicine, she managed to begin training as a nurse, and was shortly deployed to Belgium- shortly because after a few months her condition obtained there (pregnancy) impeded her ability to work. Cordelia returned home around the same her brother was sent back, as he had lost an arm and was lucky enough to live. She was, however, unmarried and unsure of who the father was. To her surprise her mother and grandmother were somewhat bothered, but seemed unaffected otherwise.
A few months later her son Jasper was born, and she fell easily into the joys of motherhood and returned to being a midwife and seamstress for a bit of extra money.
Always happy to make the same mistake twice, she once again found herself in the awkward position of being unsure of who to blame her pregnancy on, sans that pesky woman she kept seeing in the mirror. Her daughter, Ayla, was anything but a mistake to her, however.
She is convinced she had dreams of both her children before her pregnancies and accurately heard their future voices- she even goes as fair to claim she saw them standing in a brook together holding hands once as a teenager long before they were even conceived.
After her daughter began to show signs of forceful and emotional magic Cordelia took it upon herself to join the Vanguard, in hopes that public draw would endear her publicly, and her children by proxy, not willing to let Ayla live in fear as a mage.


now?

personality : Cordelia is most proud of, most interested in, and most concerned about her children, she views her time in the Vanguard as an investment in the future of their safety. A babbler of advice, and a somewhat self-aware know-it-all she tries to make fun of herself but is still finds it frustrating when her words go unheeded and quickly writes people off as foolish (occasionally at her own detriment). She is a hard worker, intensely dedicated to the tasks she gives herself, and unafraid of putting her all into any work involving others. Adjusted to ridicule, and the general distresses and mood swings of very pregnant women there is not much in the way of taunting or name calling that gets under her skin- the gore and grime she's seen have made her less than squeamish, occasionally unaffected by some disturbing scenes.
Her caring for other people keeps her up at night, and should someone be on her mind there is little that can stop her from checking in.

people?

mother : Mira May Marlin (53)
father : Donald Liam Capes (deceased)
grandmother : Rebecca C. Portnoy (85)
son : Jasper September Capes (8)
daughter : Ayla October Capes (4)
brother : Ethan July Capes (20)
sister : Miriam May Capes (25)
closest friend : Sarah F. Morain (29)
into the dangerous world I leapt.”

coded by incandescent

 
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