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Ren Blanc Le vieux tribord, dimanche après-midi Ren se branlait avec l'ourlet de sa chemise. Marlin, hein. Il savait peu à rien sur les vols, et donc il était réticent à dire quelque chose sur le sujet. Il détestait parler de choses qui le faisaient paraître ignorant. Heureusement, il n'était pas obligé. Marlin a pointé son sac de livres. "Alors. Ces livres font de vous un avocat, un médecin ou un comptable." Soupirant lourdement, déjà oublié de ses études, Ren se redressait le dos, se creusant le cou des deux côtés. Si c'était à mon père que je serais probablement tous les trois. Comme s'il ne faisait que réaliser ses propres mouvements, Ren se déplaçait rapidement et fléchissait les doigts, se déplaçant les mains sous la table. Sheesh, comment parler des problèmes de ton père à un inconnu. Mais oui, le futur médecin - à votre service... Ren a fait un salut à deux doigts de son front, une tentative à demi-coeur d'un sourire accroché sur ses lèvres, pas tout à fait atteindre ses yeux. Et ces petits méchants sont ma compagnie jusqu'à mon prochain examen. Ren se demandait s'il devait partir avant que la femme ne se lasse de lui parler. D'une part, sa compagnie n'était pas la pire. C'était une belle distraction de ses propres pensées. Et l'option de retourner à son appartement froid et calme n'était pas trop tentante. Inconsciemment, Ren a commencé à froisser avec ses ongles. Ce n'est pas comme si tu connaissais un tas de gens dans cette ville. Qu'est-ce que le pire qui peut arriver... Ren avait déménagé de sa maison d'enfance en Californie à Sol City. Obtenez un peu d'espace pour se concentrer sur ses études – ou alors il a dit à ses parents. Ils étaient mécontents qu'il ne voulait pas aller à l'université de Stanford comme ils l'avaient fait, mais il avait accepté à contrecœur. Son père lui a même acheté un appartement sur le Riverside pour que Ren n'ait pas à vivre dans ces dortoirs sales, comme il l'avait dit. Pour être honnête Ren voulait juste s'éloigner de son père en laisse serrée et être rencontré avec de fausses gentillesses par tout le monde après s'être présenté comme un Blanc. Il y avait beaucoup d'argent à ce nom, et son père avait coulé ses griffes ici et là pour obtenir son chemin, dans le sens des affaires et en privé. Ren et Marlin se sont assis en silence pendant un moment, tous deux perdus dans la pensée. Il a été ramené à la réalité par la porte se fermant fort derrière un nouveau client, qui s'est arrêté et s'est assis sur une table à quelques mètres d'eux. C'est lui – du parc... Ce qui n'était qu'une pensée privée glissa sous son souffle sans que Ren s'en rende compte. Il a regardé comme la serveuse et le client a établi un malentendu, avant qu'elle ne se précipite vers une autre table – même s'il y avait peu d'autres personnes là-bas. L'homme s'assit à la place près du bar et Ren sentit à nouveau son estomac tordu. Ce regard insouciant était de retour sur le visage de l'homme et il ne devrait pas déranger Ren autant qu'il l'a fait. Il s'éloigna rapidement, comme si la vue lui brûlait les yeux. Donc, vous êtes un pilote? Même si Ren était mal à l'aise avec des sujets dans des eaux inexplorées, il ferait n'importe quoi pour se distraire de l'inconfort croissant de son estomac.

ℛen 𝒲hite Age: 21 Appearance: Height: 185 cm / 6’ Weight: 78 kg / 171 lbs Likes: Coffee, lots of it. Drinking – he loves to forget all about who he is, but hates being vulnerable of spilling his thoughts to other people. Arguing, and being right. Dislikes: Nosy people. Annoying people. People who think they’re better than him. Going to bed - Ren loves to sleep, but hates lying in bed alone with his thoughts. Zodiac Sign: Scorpio. Birthday: November 1st. Strengths: Resourceful, brave, passionate, stubborn, a true friend. Weaknesses: Distrusting, jealous, secretive, violent. Scorpio likes: Truth, facts, being right, longtime friends, teasing, a grand passion. Scorpio dislikes: Dishonesty, revealing secrets, passive people. Special Talent: Ren was taught to play the piano as a child, and is really good at it. Not that he wants anybody to know. He is also surprisingly good at dancing. Profession: Studying to become a surgeon at the most prestigious university in the city. Bio/Personality: Ren is the only child of a rich family. His father inherited a successful pharmaceutical company from his father again, earning them a fortune. Growing up in a big mansion Ren had lots of servants and maids around him, but rarely his parents - who were busy working. He has few friends and big time trust issues. He’s snarky, short tempered, grumpy and sulky when he doesn’t get his way. He’s smug, arrogant and believes himself to be better than most people. Secretly he just wants to be accepted for who he is instead of what he has and who his father is. He envies people who makes friends easy, and though he will never admit it he is drawn towards such people. Ren is struggling with his sexuality, not knowing what he identifies as. He tries to forget this by studying in most of his free time. As his father wanted, he’s in Med. School studying to become a surgeon, unsure of this is what he actually wants to do with his life. Your character's favorite song: Written in the Water by Gin Wigmore. If you bring this up Ren will turn beet red and utterly deny ever having heard of the song. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Tell us about yourself: *Your age: 22. *What part of the world are you from? Norway. *How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: I’ve never roleplayed on a forum like this before, but I used to roleplay a bit with people online back in the day when msn was a thing (Online chat, kind of like Skype), lol. It consisted primarily of speed posting, so writing paragraphs will be a welcoming challenge. I would exclusively do fandom based RP’s, so RP with OC’s is new territory for me as well. I think it’s more challenging to come up with the concept of a whole person instead of just writing about a character you’re already familiar with, but hey, still equally as fun. *How often do you have time to post? I’ll start by saying 2-4 times a week, but the way things are right now I’ll probably check in every day. *Anything else you want to mention? What you do for a living? How much do you work a week? What do you enjoy doing besides writing? I just finished my bachelor’s degree as a kindergarten teacher, but didn’t feel like going into the work field just yet, so now I’m studying a master’s degree in pedagogy. Other hobbies include watching movies and tv series, creative stuff like needle felting, drawing/painting, strumming clumsily on my ukulele and singing (guitar is too hard for me, lol.), etc. I play video games to a certain degree, but the games I can play is limited due to sever motion sickness if it’s a first person kind of game (I’ll almost throw up after 30 minutes of games like Mass Effect or such… (ಠ‿ಠ’) ). BTW: During winter here in Norway it gets dark most of the day. Right now, we get about 8 hours of sunlight a day, but it gets worse (ಥ_ಥ) Because of this most of us suffer from winter depressions, including me. Hooray ʘ‿ʘ. So if I get down in a funk and needs to step back from obligations I will give a heads up. I don’t think this will become likely right now, but maybe it will when I have exams on top of everything else. We’ll see (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ. PS: Sorry for the emoticon abuse. I find them too funny sometimes （´・ω・ `）(send help).

Marinalia (Romus) Olympus The Old Starboard, dimanche après-midi Marlin semblait plus détendue et s'asseyait en sirotant son thé, elle était coincée avec le thé maintenant elle devait avoir 24 heures de bouteille à gaz. La règle était stricte mais simple à retenir, ils l'avaient même fait rimer. Notant le gars qu'il était certainement celui de la piscine, petite ville il semblait, même parmi les milliers que vous pouviez encore se souvenir d'un visage. Thee comment à propos d'un père, évidemment celui-ci avait quelques problèmes, pas que Marilania pouvait parler de celui-ci. "Docteur, et bien M. DR. A peu près aussi lourd qu'un manuel de vol." Plus détendue et jouant légèrement avec son air, une bague en diamant proéminente scintille sur pas que le doigt twirling longs brins blond idely plus comme une vieille habitude que toute autre chose. Puis elle a remarqué la remarque sur l'homme de l'établissement sportif, oui c'était lui, devait l'être. Plus calme et tact que le stagiaire DR avec un accent légèrement plus chaud que le premier. Il y avait quelque chose d'intéressant chez lui car elle regardait curieusement en essayant d'être aussi discrète que possible, même si ses yeux gris rencontraient rapidement les siens une seconde et se détournaient vers l'homme à qui elle parlait. Ce bar était certainement intéressant et un bien meilleur choix que de retourner à son appartement à Old Harbour. Elle n'aurait fini que par regarder les bateaux ou jouer sans esprit à un jeu d'app. Peut-être qu'elle pouvait prendre une voiture, le Land rover Discovery était amusant à conduire bien qu'il était un porc de carburant dans le centre de la ville arrêt de la circulation de départ. "Oh, il était à la piscine, je faisais ma baignade du dimanche matin, facile à 3-4 km." Ok, c'était un cri d'humilité flagrant, elle avait travaillé très dur pour maintenir sa forme physique et les temps, bien que, beaucoup dans sa profession s'était assis gras dans le bureau, sur le travail, la nourriture d'hôtel agréable sur les arrêts.. il était facile de laisser le poids glisser sur mais Marinalia était déterminée à ne pas perdre cette partie de sa vie et l'une des rares constantes qu'elle avait sur ses voyages. "Ouais complètement autorisé, pris une leçon et trouvé mon truc, passé quand j'avais 18 ans. Il travaille actuellement au Daedalus. Depuis combien de temps Ive vole, c'est mon petit secret. Devinez que c'est dans le sang, mes pères un capitaine de vaisseau marchand. nous avons un sort plein de volonté" Pensant à ce qu'elle devait faire d'autre ce jour-là, pas beaucoup, bien qu'elle aurait dû faire pour creuser ses écouteurs, l'ancienne paire anolougue juste dans l'étui, Deadalus était une compagnie aérienne moderne, mais même ils pourraient ne pas avoir équipé le DC-7 d'un tout nouveau système de radio et de communications

Marilania (Romus), Olympus (double barreled, somewhat a name she hides) Age: 27 Appearance: fairly Athletic, long straight Blonde and with a penchant for skirts she remained in good shape after professional sports, though now is quite abit off her competition times. Always wearing a silver necklace in the style of 3 moons linked together gifted from an old friend, and a fair sized diamond ring that belonged to her grandmother which she values above all other things. She has a distinct knife wound scar on stomach she tries to downplay and looks much like her mother but has eyes nearly identical to her father in a fairly cold grey. Sometimes seen in more normal clothes, other times wears a flight suit with range of patches from a few airlines and UK flag for work and vintage aviators picked up on her travels. Otherwise favours UK/European clothing brands and styles. Distinct English Accent despite travels Height: 5’5 Weight: 130 pounds Likes: Pancakes Flying Driving, Mostly SUV and off roaders. Tea Exploring old ruins and local towns Technology Awful movies Swimming Rock music Bakers Dislikes: Crash landings Smoking being a passenger Deceptions, lies and intriques Ultra packed locations Cold weather/places Navy/Ships. Long term ties to where she lives Being judged for her Family name/appearance Zodiac Sign: TAURUS Special Talent: Able to make a Chocolate filled pancake with chocolate between two layers of pancake, Very quick to adapt to new cities. Profession: qualified pilot and Co Crew on a local cargo. Helicopters and short haul airline flights respectively. (also works in there small inner city office when not flying cago's and does general paperwork related to aircraft) Bio/Personality: Daughter of an English wealthy family, her mother Maria raised her alone after her father Vesarian a captain and owner of a shipping enterprise involved in several less than above board jobs left her before she was born. Raised on the family estate she was taught for her younger years quickly learning to be fluent in both Latin and English as an old family tradition dictated. Sent off to a private academy when she was barely in secondary education, she soon found her skills after an injury on running track in the swimming pool and won multiple awards in various championships. Though this time was not all easy, being away from family for so long, being abandoned as a child and a lack of a “home” took its toll and made her distant and also reserved. Things turned round when she took a flying lesson for fun as part of the academies extracurricular programme; she soon took to it and passed her full license just before she was 18. Returning home to her family, the manufacturing business was turning nasty and a rival firm moving meant her happy reunion was shortlived soon sucked into the internal battles, rivalries internal and external that had plagued the family for decades. Worse still when a mugging went wrong left her with a now scar she hides on her stomach she decided to try and find her own way and escape her family’s internal pull down into its darkside of wealth. Meeting her step sister Victoria and her father just before she left was the final straw and headed off and worked for a mix of local airlines, helicopter taxi and other jobs before now taking a role at the Sol city Daedalus Airlines and settling down into a smaller but well-furnished top floor apartment in one of the outer districts. Recently arrived into the city she has not got many ties to the place, renting everything out of habit from a pre furnished apartment, to an offroad SUV (land rover Discovery) on short term leases, never wanting long term ties to a place. (Had to leave anchorage after a news article linked her father to legal arms trade in Africa and her and his name where linked by a investigative journalist. Headed to Sol city to take up a new work contract for local air freight company.) Personality wise she is fairly confident, flirty but also takes a while to warm to people having moved about so much. Fairly easy going, slower to trust though and less willing to forgive. Not always wanting to get very close to people as less to deal with when she moves on. Maybe the new city will change her outlook or just be another stamp on the passport. Caring but again takes time for that to happen after many moves, and too many people. Generally takes time for true self to evident. Has very few personal effects with her bar the named jewellery as had been pretty nomadic since she was 18 ish, 9 years or thereabout. Your character's favorite song: The following is not required, but we strongly encourage you to at least put a little something. In the past we have found that when players get to know each other as real people, not just as names on a screen, it helps the longevity of the game. Seriously, please get to know your fellow players. Tell us about yourself: *Your age: 27 *What part of the world are you from? United Kingdom *How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: 1-2 years offsite, 3 months on guild *How often do you have time to post? Fairly Regularly, 2-3 times a week, maybe more at weekend *Anything else you want to mention? Tea loving office dweller, i paint, do photography and self confessed a bit of a nerd on some things. I also collect wargames models. "These are the things that make a good story great and good writers even greater."

Tommy Lomax Lieu: Old Harbour, Matin Tommy s'est réveillé à la douce roche des vagues, ayant depuis longtemps renoncé au besoin d'alarmes, les vagues avaient tendance à être comment Tommy s'est réveillé la plupart des matins. Blindant le sommeil de ses yeux, il pouvait voir la lumière de l'aube rayonner à travers les fenêtres latérales bâbord. Sortir du lit Tommy a commencé à passer par sa routine matinale. Vérifier son téléphone, allumer son Keurig Mini, s'emparer d'une remorque et sauter dans la douche. Après une douche rapide, Tommy s'habille dans sa tenue habituelle, une paire de pantalons noirs couplés à un bouton-up blanc, une veste en costume noir et une paire d'oxfords noirs. Ensuite, c'était juste une question de prendre son café, les clés, et la canne, quelque chose Tommy n'a pas quitté la maison sans plus, avant qu'il débarque de sa maison et fait son chemin vers le parking juste à l'est de la jetée. Glissant derrière le volant de son Continental, il a tourné le moteur et la voiture purée à la vie. Sortir la voiture du parking Tommy a mis le cap pour The Coffee Pot, où il continuerait sa routine matinale avec un petit déjeuner chaud et deux tasses supplémentaires ou plus de café. Lieu: Le Café Pot, Matin Un court trajet en voiture plus tard et Tommy a pu être trouvé dans son endroit habituel à The Coffee Pot. Cela aussi faisait partie de sa routine matinale, il était devenu quelque chose d'un habitué à The Coffee Pot. Assis à son siège habituel, dans le dos, ce n'était pas difficile d'observer les autres patrons ce dimanche matin. Regarder d'autres clients venir et aller était devenu une habitude pour l'athlète retraité, et aujourd'hui n'était pas différent. Ce matin, le café a été fréquenté par deux autres habitués que Tommy a reconnus par le visage sinon le nom ainsi que certains visages qu'il n'a pas reconnus, y compris celui d'un étudiant trop épuisé. Si ce n'était pas un dimanche, un début de journée pour Footsteps, il aurait pu être tenté d'entamer une conversation avec n'importe lequel des mécènes. Cependant, comme il a été neuf semaines dans la saison NFL et un match à l'extérieur pour les Anges Icarus, Footsteps a demandé et Tommy a dû répondre. Emplacement: Footsteps Sports Bar, Matin Tirant dans le lot d'employés derrière Footsteps, Tommy's montre lire 9:38 A.M., juste assez tôt pour s'assurer que le bar était ouvert à l'heure. Tommy n'était pas vraiment nécessaire pour superviser Footsteps, il avait engagé un cuisinier plus que compétent et le personnel d'attente, mais l'intention derrière l'ouverture du bar avait été de perturber la monotonie de la vie à la retraite et laisser les autres le diriger tout simplement n'a pas contribué à ce plan. Donc Tommy avait fait de son propre devoir d'être là quand Footsteps a ouvert et quand Footsteps a fermé le plus souvent possible mais avec aujourd'hui être un jeu pour la ville natale signifiait un flux d'affaires plus élevé et Tommmy a donc décidé qu'il passerait la plupart de ce dimanche au bar. En utilisant l'entrée arrière a conduit Tommy directement dans la cuisine où Ted, l'un des deux cuisiniers à Footsteps, était déjà dur au travail se préparant pour la journée. Tommy a donné au cuisinier un clin d'œil curt et sourire comme moyen de salutation, qui a été rendu presque instantanément. Ted n'était pas beaucoup de personne du matin, donc les quarts de samedi et de dimanche signifient généralement que la conversation était un pas avant plus tard dans la journée. De la cuisine Tommy s'est installé dans la salle à manger où trois autres membres du personnel s'installaient pour la journée. L'échange de brèves plaisanteries avec chaque Tommy a également mis à travailler vérifier le registre et s'assurer que tout a été stocké avant à trois minutes «jusqu'à 10 déverrouiller la porte d'entrée et allumer les lumières extérieures.

Name: Thomas “Tommy” Lomax Age: 28, birthday February 17th, 1989 Unlike the image Tommy is not tattooed but the outfit shown does reflect Tommy’s typical day to day dress, except for when exercising or relaxing home in which case he is much more likely to be found in a pair of sweat pants and a t-shirt. Additionally Tommy typically has a day or two worth of stubble before he shaves it. Height: 73 inches (185cm) Weight: 192lbs (87kg) Likes: -Football -Smoking -Boating -Fishing -Drinking -Coffee -Breakfast/Brunch -Mornings -Cats/Dogs -Rock/Alt Rock Dislikes: -Reminiscing on his “glory days” -Inactivity -Fancy drinks (pretty much anything with more than two or three ingredients) -Being pitied -Rain -Owning pets -Being the center of attention -Country music Zodiac Sign: Aquarius Special Talent: Despite not playing in the last four years Tommy still has one hell of an arm. Additionally he can make some pretty solid mixed drinks. Profession: Bartender/Owner Bio/Personality: It’s not a common event the birth of a star but that’s what the 17th of February 1989 marked. Thomas Lomax was the dream; quarterback of his high school football team, state champions all four years, a two time All-American, homecoming king--- he had it all. And life stayed that way for Thomas as he started university at Ohio State on an athletic scholarship. Tommy spent his first year at OSU mainly riding the bench, learning from the coaches and other players, his second year though saw him take the field as the first string quarterback where he proceeded to lead OSU to a conference championship. By this time the name Thomas Lomax was already making ripples in the professional community so it was to no real surprise that after Tommy followed the conference championship up with a national title that he was offered a spot in the NFL. In the 2011 NFL draft Thomas Lomax ended up a first round draft pick for the Sol City Icarus Angels. Dropping out of school Tommy relocated from the midwest to Sol City and began his training with the Angels. Tommy’s rookie year was a record breaking one in which he lead the Angels to the NFC championship, where they unfortunately lost. Going into his second year it was a similar story except in which the way it ended. The dawn of the 20th of January 2013 saw The Icarus Angels once again finding themselves competing in the NFC championship, once more playing for a spot at the Super Bowl. The game came down to the wire, it was a game that was decided by a matter seconds not a matter of points. However for Thomas Lomax it was a game with a life defining second. In the fourth quarter during the Angels’ last drive downfield Lomax took a nasty hit that shut down the dreams of the Sol City Icarus Angels and shattered the knee of their star quarterback. And so it was that the 20th of January 2013 marked the falling of a star. With a shattered knee Thomas found himself back in small town Ohio, staying with his parents while waiting for the knee to heal. The small town was suffocating after the last two years in Sol City and it was only made worse by the constant pity he felt from those around him. Once he was back on his feet, more literally than figuratively, Tommy made the decision to permanently make the move back to Sol City. Thanks to the size of the city Tommy could almost start over. People recognized him from time to time, and some of them still pitied him but it wasn’t the constant it had been in Ohio. Despite the tragically short career Tommy had had with the Icarus Angels he had still made a small fortune, roughly eight million between his signing bonus and the payout for his two years. In all reality it meant that Thomas was set for life and could feasibly enjoy a very young retirement. And this is what Tommy spent the next year doing. However, as is oft the case, retirement didn’t suite Tommy well. A sedentary life was just not one that clicked with the former All-American. Trying to find something to occupy his days as a retiree Tommy didn’t take long to settle on the idea of a sports bar. It made some level of sense, it was something to do that required near daily oversight and wasn’t liable to become too boring too quickly--- plus it also capitalized on his local fame. And so Footsteps Sports Bar was born. Since opening the bar in 2014 it has become somewhat of a go to spot for sports fans in the area. Other than the running of a sports bar, which does take up quite a bit of time. Tommy supplements his semi-retired life style with as much exercise as he can manage however due to his knee injury this isn’t always possible, in fact sometimes, on bad days, Tommy has to use a cane to get around. Your character's favorite song: Zip-Lock by Lit Tell us about yourself: *Your age: 23 *What part of the world are you from? The great nothingness of Midwest, United States (central standard time). *How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: I joined the guild in 2012, the year of Guildfall however I’ve been playing tabletop roleplaying games since 2006-2007 so total about ten years of roleplay experience. To be honest I have been on a rather long break from the Guild until very recently (roughly 2 years or so). *How often do you have time to post? Right now I’m pretty much free whenever, and can post once every day or two. However I am getting ready to move in the next few weeks which will probably slow down my ability to get posts up, I won’t disappear though as I do most of my roleplaying through my phone. *Misc. Outside of roleplaying my primary hobbies revolve around attending concerts, playing Magic the Gathering and keeping up with wrestling and the numerous podcasts I follow.

Kei Kinzo Kei prit tranquillement des gorgées de sa boisson mélangée, il sentit la chaleur de l'alcool se laver sur tout son corps, et la carbine de la coke lui mordit la gorge lentement, c'était un mélange puissant, quelque chose qu'il appréciait à fond. Alors qu'il sirotait lentement sa boisson, il regardait de nouveau autour de la pièce, mais cette fois quelque chose rencontrait son regard. Plutôt que quelque chose, c'était quelqu'un, et pas seulement quelqu'un, c'était deux personnes. Au début, c'était le regard du mâle qu'il rencontrait. Les yeux des mâles semblaient regarder Kei et donner une ambiance d'envie. Au bout de quelques secondes, le mâle s'éloignait immédiatement des yeux et regardait en arrière la fille avec laquelle il semblait interagir. C'était à ce moment-là que le regard de la femme rencontrait le regard de Kei. Son regard était cependant différent, il semblait être plus d'un regard de confirmation de ce que Kei pouvait dire. Tout comme le regard du mâle, la femelle s'est vite détournée des yeux dès qu'elle s'est rendu compte que son regard avait rencontré celui de Kei. Avec curiosité à l'esprit Kei se leva avec sa boisson à la main et décida d'aller jusqu'aux deux discussions. Vu qu'ils étaient à quelques pas, Kei n'a pris que quelques pas pour y arriver. Avant de parler vers le haut Kei tranquillement éclairci sa gorge et un peu interrompu les deux. Salut vous deux, désolé si je suis un dérangement, mais je ne pouvais pas m'empêcher de remarquer que vous regardiez dans ma direction générale..Il a pris une petite gorgée de sa boisson et a continué sur....Peut-être que j'ai tort, peut-être j'ai raison, mais peu importe que j'ai pensé que je pourrais aussi bien me présenter aux deux personnes qui semblaient me regarder....Il a tiré une place à côté de la paire et leur a donné un sourire amical....

Name: Kei Kinzo Age: 21 Appearance: Height: 178 cm or 5'11" Weight: 82 kg or 180 lbs Likes: Kind people, video games, cold weather, anime, manga, talking to people, technology, cars, fun activities, girls, cooking, good food, living comfortably, keeping things simple, guns, glasses. Dislikes: Bad people, boring people, overly deep water, liars, school, unneeded details, cigarettes. Zodiac Sign: Aquarius Special Talent: Kei doesn't have any extraordinary special talent, but what he is good at is video games, cars, and cooking. Aside from those three things he is about as average as a person can get in terms of other talents. Profession: To avoid having to work for the rest of his life Kei decided on taking a job that would allow him to both have fun and make tons of money on a day to day basis, as such his profession lies in day trade, whether it be stocks or foreign currency he trades them all and makes a good amount of money doing it. Despite having an honest to good job, every now and again he is an arms dealer that lies within the grey area of legality. Bio/Personality: Kei is probably an overly outgoing guy, he was always this way since a young age, he really didn't care who someone was or what kind of person they were as long as they were kind he was able to get along with them with ease. He is a simplistic thinker and hates when things are made overly complicated since there is no real reason for things to become harder than it already is. As such he does his best to simplify every aspect of his life without compromising his interests. While yes he would love to live as a god and not have to worry about bodily functions, but he would not go and get special surgery to get bodily functions removed. A trait that usually goes hand in hand with outgoing, is being kind and helpful. Kei does not lack that trait in any way you can say he is the epitome of a kind and outgoing guy even to a fault. Aside from all that Kei is the type of guy to try and get to know a random stranger in the street and hopefully become friends with said stranger for a lifetime, he cares that deeply for relationships. Growing up Kei was always intelligent and methodical about everything he did, this carried all through his life even to now. That's one of the reasons he decided to become a day trade and arms dealer. He wanted a life of relative ease and comfort. While he does hate the idea of school he understands that somewhere down the line the diploma and education will benefit him and as such he is putting himself through school something that his parents always struggled to do as they could never afford to get him in, but with Kei coming into a fortune due to day trading and arms dealing, he has no problems affording the tuition costs for school, as such he puts himself through it all. While yes Kei is indeed richer than most people, he does not like to show it off because then he feels he is being a horrible person for doing so. Your character's favorite song: *Your age: 20 *Region: United States *How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: 4-5 years *How often do you have time to post?: Pretty much everyday unless stated otherwise *Misc: I do attend university so sometimes the work load from that may cause me to go MIA for a day or two, but I will always give a heads up! "These are the things that make a good story great and good writers even greater."

Avant que Joel n'ait pris possession, son garage avait autrefois été une sorte de atelier de soudage. Il s'est souvenu de marcher sur le sol vide avec le courtier immobilier commercial avant qu'ils ne ferment sur la propriété et la poussière de soudage qui avait été littéralement tout. Quelle douleur de nettoyer. À l'intérieur, il gardait l'ancien bureau en grande partie intact. L'étage avait été une salle de conférence combinée avec deux autres petits bureaux et il ya quelques années, il a décidé de consolider et faire de la zone un espace de vie. Ce projet était encore inachevé, mais l'atelier était une merveille immaculée. Tuile bleuâtre brillait dans une finition semi-brillante qui continuait à mi-monter le mur avec une bordure noire qui séparait le blanc brillant qui continuait jusqu'au plafond noirci. De nouveaux luminaires suspendus avec des lignes d'air et d'électricité pour son usage. Derrière l'aire de bureau du mur arrière se trouvait la boîte à outils principale de Joël: une affaire bleue royale avec des poignées polies et divers tiroirs et portes contenant une myriade d'outils, tous soigneusement organisés. L'ensemble était plus grand qu'il ne l'était et présentait diverses connexions électriques dans un bureau central pour plus de commodité. Il a gardé un ordinateur portable dans le centre avec un tabouret élevé où il s'est assis brièvement à la recherche de sujets complètement sans rapport avec son travail actuel. Un visiteur remarquerait que cette petite section de la boutique, non visible de l'extérieur, était un peu plus personnelle que l'étage principal stérilisé. Plusieurs photos accrochées de lui avec des amis et des événements passés, beaucoup mettant en vedette la voiture actuellement à l'arrière de la boutique. Des trophées de différentes dates ont été rangés sur un petit rebord au-dessus, ainsi que des certificats encadrés et des lettres. La radio s'est évanouie et il n'a pas prêté attention au visiteur qui s'était envolé avec son scooter blessé. Il a pivoté sur le tabouret et a trouvé la jeune femme debout là. Gelant en place, il a tiré une double prise légèrement stupéfaite vers elle, ses yeux confirmant à son cerveau qu'il y avait effectivement une autre personne dans le magasin et juste en face de lui. Attends, quel jour sommes-nous? C'était sa première pensée. Merde, j'ai laissé la porte ouverte... c'était sa deuxième pensée. Tout cela a-t-il réussi à s'enregistrer hors de sa bouche. Il est revenu à l'ordinateur portable tout en regardant le scooter endommagé et a allégé le volume. Merde, j'aime cette chanson aussi, qu'est-ce que c'est? Ses yeux scannaient le petit scooter, un Vespa, qui semblait avoir pris quelques dégâts cosmétiques puis à son conducteur apparent qui semblait avoir pris quelques dégâts de mode. Pas si mauvais Joel, tu as laissé la porte ouverte, crétin. Ses notes mentales continuèrent. Comme elle l'avait apparemment poussé dedans, il s'est dit qu'il ne courait pas. Simple une machine telle qu'elle était, il était encore un peu curieux. Il n'avait jamais touché un Vespa et le sien semblait être un vieux, mais toujours dans un kit étonnamment bon. Intéressant. Il s'est souvenu une fois avoir entendu que certains d'entre eux pouvaient valoir plus de quelques dollars. Comme d'habitude, la première chose qu'il a faite après avoir sauté était de monter le siège et de voir s'il y avait du carburant à l'intérieur. Qu'est-ce qui s'est passé? Il lui est brièvement apparu que l'arôme de bon goût de l'huile d'engrenage Jeep toujours accroché sur son t-shirt à manches longues et short. Joel's Shop Radio #2

Name: Joel Nicolosi Age: 32 Height: 6’1” Weight: 185 lbs Likes: +Caffeine +Reading +Conspiracy Theories +Working-Out +Talk Radio +Cars/Trucks/Vehicles/etc. Dislikes: -Seafood -Sports -Cold Weather -Bad Grammar -Authority -Disorganization Zodiac Sign: Gemini Special Talent: Legendary Alcohol Tolerance Profession: Mechanic/Owner Apex Designs, a small, single-door garage, tucked away on the industrial Southside end of town with enough room for about three cars inside. Bio/Personality: Joel is a man who views himself as someone not necessarily doing what they want to do in life, but doing what they're good at. He enjoys repairing the automotive woes of many of Sol City’s wealthy clientele. However, even though his work is considered some of the best in the city, he’s often equally known for his lengthy vacations and costly invoices. Additionally armed with a business degree that he earned off of an only briefly offered scholarship in his youth, he very carefully balances work, play and sometimes outright laziness. He keeps no set schedule and can be found in his shop sometimes at the most bizarre of hours. Outwardly, Joel has a very arrogant aura that often turns off others. He’s been told that he’s “unapproachable” and though he likes the thought of being intimidating, sometimes he does feel a genuine desire to have deeper conversations. He enjoys flirting and being in some social venues, but often feels bored and out of place. He doesn’t consider himself extroverted. Interestingly, he tends to talk non-stop while working on vehicles and has his own crowd of conversational regulars, often the bored and retired older men of the city, that stop by just to see what he’s working on. Joel is very aware of his eccentricities and has a warped sense of justice. He enjoys watching people that may have wronged him or refused his advice “get what they deserve” to the point of comedy. He likes that some may look down on him for his chosen profession, but at the same time wishes he was doing something else. He’s never satisfied for very long. Favorite Song: Tell us about yourself: Age: 32 What part of the world are you from?: VA, USA How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: Around 17 How often do you have time to post?: Usually 2-3 times per week, maybe more depending on my work schedule/other things. Anything else you want to mention?: I actually work a pretty cool job, but it does demand a lot of time out of me sometimes. I'm married and have three kids. Roleplay/Writing is one of my few surviving hobbies in adulthood next to working out and reading a book occasionally. I usually only have time to write one game at a time here on the Guild so this is it for now. I'm going to my level best to make sure its a winner. I try to take care of my players, so if you're reading this and thinking about joining, we'll be glad to have you.

Le pot à café Ayant assez de temps dans le café mulling sur un expresso étonnamment décent Sasha succomba à l'ennui et s'abaissa sur sa chaise; inconsciemment, il espérait que quelqu'un l'aurait déjà forcé à révéler son vrai personnage, afin qu'il puisse alors montrer sa supériorité sur les paysans assemblés. Hélas, il semblait que ces ternes étaient dupés par son astuce, peut-être qu'il jouait un peu trop bien à Jocelyn. Avec un peu plus de charisme Sas... errez Jocelyn aurait ces idiots embrasser le sol ses pieds parfaitement pédigués marchaient sur. Il n'était pas irrité par le manque d'attention, pas de monsieur, pas d'un seul morceau. Sa main droite traçait le luxueux cuir Epi de son embrayage Neo Belaia, tandis que le magnifique sac Louis Vuitton rappelait son statut, c'était aussi son sac de triche. Un sourire enroulé son visage, ces sycophants de retour au penthouse n'auraient pas dû prendre sa parole qu'il jouerait honnêtement. Au début, il n'a pas envisagé de faire entrer en contrebande des provisions avec lui, mais alors Dieu a de nouveau fait la tentation si séduisante. Sa nouvelle stratégie était de rester à l'écart (comme il doutait que ses toadies allaient vérifier sur lui dans une mesure notable) et il gagnerait ce défi idiot; la tricherie serait techniquement aller à l'encontre de l'esprit de tout le Shebang, mais s'il n'était pas pris était-il tricher? Son téléphone a averti que son chauffeur UberLUX l'attendait à l'extérieur. Il a mis des billets froissés sur la table et a fait son chemin à l'extérieur. Un vent froid souffla alors qu'il entrait dans la berline de luxe haut de gamme. La marche a été surévaluée. L'ancien tribord Sasha roula les yeux tandis que le conducteur harcelait sans cesse sur sa couvée d'enfants. L'état de l'industrie des services dans cette ville était une blague et tout comme le fait que ce morse moustachu a procréé. Pire encore c'est que l'imbécile drone sur la scène gay locale quand Sasha s'est renseigné sur les bars. Pourquoi l'homme pensait que Sasha voudrait savoir que l'information était au-delà de lui. Il s'est tordu les cheveux dans les doigts. Stupide vieux fou, qu'est-ce qu'il savait. Rien de tout ça. Le simpleton ne s'est pas rendu compte que Sasha était l'un des célibataires les plus admissibles de la ville et non un homosexuel... il a juste dévié du chemin proverbial de temps en temps qui est une chose hétérosexuelle tout à fait normale à faire. Pervert devait le frapper ou quelque chose comme ça. Eck... gros. Il a supprimé un bâillon pendant que la voiture s'arrêtait sur The Old Starboard. Malgré son dégoût avec le peon, il a fait marcher la borgne autour de la voiture et lui a ouvert la porte. Sasha s'est moqué du conducteur car l'imp avait l'audace de lui dire d'avoir une bonne journée et de rester en sécurité. Comme c'est présomptueux. Alors que Sasha se dirigeait vers le bar, il tenta de canaliser le personnage de Jocelyn, mais fut vaincu par une envie de participer à un vice particulièrement coquin. Après avoir commandé un scotch...J&B sur les rochers (un favori personnel) il a fait son chemin vers la salle de bains. Sur son chemin, il se plisa le nez dans le dégoût, alors que cet établissement sentait le manque d'ambition ainsi que la classe, la culture, le goût et l'intelligence. Il pensait qu'il reconnaissait aussi l'un des roubles de la cafétéria, ce qui serait trop approprié s'il était vrai. Une fois à l'intérieur de la salle de bain, il s'est assuré qu'il était vraiment seul avant d'atteindre l'intérieur de son embrayage pour un petit miroir, un billet de cent dollars, une lame de rasoir, et un sac clair contenant un gramme de cocaïne. Après avoir ronflé quelques lignes, il ferme les yeux et se sent réconforté par son cœur coureur; les larmes coulent sur son visage. Pendant un moment, il se sent bien en accord avec l'univers avant de retomber sur terre. Brillant la lame de rasoir et le sac vide, il replace les autres objets dans son embrayage. Sasha sèche ses larmes et essuie le léger résidu de cocaïne de ses lèvres avec un mouchoir. S'assurer que ses narines ne saignent pas, il lie son chemin à la barre un pep supplémentaire dans son pas à dire.

Max Sylvester Summerson Age: 28, just. Apparel: Height: 5'11 Weight: 145 Ibs Likes: Cigarettes, Cigars and Malt Whiskey; Fast Cars and Slow women; Coffee and Morning Mist; Working under the wing on a sunny day; Flying the plane in stormy weather; Lobster Thermidor and Pot Noodles; Letting off steam and Buckshot; Keats, Burns and Chaucer; Risk, Monopoly and DnD; Batting off of the wing of his plane; Big Dogs and sweeping up the runway; playing music loudly in a traffic jam. Dislikes: Paying Taxes and Government Plane Inspectors; Large Airlines and Traffic Control; Electric Cars and Counting Pennies; Other Pilots and Other Mechanics; Daedalus and PanAm. Zodiac Sign: Libra Special Talent: Mental Arithmetic Profession: Commercial Passenger/Cargo Pilot Personality: A bit on the quiet side, when Max says something his voice demands attention, that said he's not an attention seeker by any stretch of the word. Despite that he is a fun loving, and creative individual when you've been around him enough, with a very genuine sense of life and openness. As of recently however he has become more irritable and moody, with the decline of his company and the loss of his one other employee. He lives his life in a state of barely satiated boredom, having relied on his own entertainment as his circle of friends is fairly scant. But when he is with people, people he likes, he likes to take part in good hearted mayhem. Max doesn't feel like he is above anyone, and that comes off in the way he speaks to people, this doesn't mean he won't speak up if he knows he's right. Bio: To understand Max, one must take a trip back in time, to a time before he was born. Max's grandfather had emigrated from Germany to the United States in the Mid-30s, under his new, anglicized name Simon Summerson (previously Simone Zimmersonne). He had worked for Dornier as a technician at one of their engine works, and so had experience with motors and planes, as his engines went into Dornier's planes; the rise of the Nazi Party, however, convinced him to leave Germany. Quickly Simon found that his German Marks were worthless, and stuck in Britain as a young man with no credible references, he had to do petty work for petty cash. Once the war started however, he was drafted into the Airforce as a mechanic, and during desperate times he himself was forced to pilot fighters. After the war, decorated and an ace, Simon made the final leg of his journey to America. There, on the cramped boat, he made the acquaintance of one Axel Suhlhoff (Anglicized to Axel Suhl), a German Catholic who managed to escape in the final months of the war to Spain. Both being native to south Germany, they stuck together; Axel had not come alone however, he traveled with his wife and children. And his sister, Mira (whom Simon later married). Upon arriving the group continued to travel together, and found a place to settle in Solaris County. There, with what funds they had left, opened a machine shop and worked on tractors and crop dusters. It was in the summer of 51, when the government was surplusing DC-3s, that year Summerson and Suhl entered the business of actual flying. By the end of the 50s Suhl had passed away, but the company was in strong financial shape, the fleet had tripled to 9 planes by that time; making numerous flights every month under contract with state government. Summerson and Suhl continued to preform strongly for decades, hauling goods, mail and passengers and into and out of state. Plans for an air traffic control were drafted up and Martin, Simon's son, was acquiring finances when news arrived that Pan-America was opening a division on the west coast. Daedalus. Those plans of opening a terminal and getting the contract to traffic surrounding airspace were quickly put aside as an up hill battle ensured. Backed by the wealth of its mother company, Daedalus had established a large regional airport that quickly became international, state shifted its contracts with the newer airline and business began to dry up as a result of uncompetitive pricing of Daedalus deals. During this time Max was being raised, his father had insisted Max and all his children go to public school, despite his considerable wealth. Max didn't do particularly well, nor did he do particularly poorly, he was an average student by all accounts, only really excelling in maths but not algebra. Max was considered one of the cool kids, but his choice of company never really expressed it. He tended towards hanging out with the "nerds", going so far that people called him King of the nerds, a title he begrudgingly accepted. In this time he got into bored games and maths championships, skipping out on parties and dating for a night of DnD or CoC. Not to say he's never had experience with with the other gender, but his experience is lacking. Upon graduation his father's connections easily found him a place in the state university, where mostly he kept his head down and did his work, all the while training to be a pilot. It had seemed as though he was the only one of his father's children who had any intention on joining the family business. S&S slowly began to decline, and as did Martin's health, the once large fleet had to be sold off to cover medical expenses, and Daedalus tried numerous times to buy out the company to no avail. Max assumed control of the company a week after his father's passing, by that point it was him, and one other pilot. And 9 silent DC-3s, the planes that his father had instructed him not to sell no matter what. Loyal customers continued to be loyal, keeping the company barely afloat, but the company never really operated at full capacity. Recently the other pilot left for a more lucrative contract at Daedalus, and Max carries out contracts very rarely, coasting on the money he was left by his father and his degree in Civil Engineering. Max resides in the large house that was once his family home, his siblings had all grown up and left, and the house was empty but for a few rooms. His mother continues to live with him, quietly assuming her duties as head of the house. Your character's favorite song:

8h00 À travers l'odeur du port et une chanson venant fort du téléphone de Sadie, l'étudiante de 21 ans s'est réveillée pour la journée. Elle s'est préparée pour la journée. Elle avait besoin de se dépêcher et d'aller à Footsteps depuis aujourd'hui était un jeu à l'écart. Tout le monde sur le pont en fait un marché. Elle a attrapé son téléphone et des écouteurs tournant la chanson sur laquelle elle s'est réveillée à pleine explosion. En deux jours, elle avait une vitrine et elle avait l'habitude d'écouter la chanson sélectionnée aussi souvent qu'elle le pouvait pour obtenir le son parfaitement baissé. La laissant petite et un peu froide, en raison de l'AC défectueux, appartement, Sadie a fait son chemin à la cafetière. Depuis qu'elle a laissé son amie emprunter son Keurig la chose darn juste ne semble plus fonctionner correctement ainsi jusqu'à ce que le futur prévisible Sadie soit devenu un Coffee Pot régulier. Pour être honnête, elle aime vraiment ça. Le café est beaucoup mieux quand fait par quelqu'un qui sait vraiment comment le faire. Son seul problème est qu'elle semble avoir l'incapacité de se réveiller correctement jusqu'à la première gorgée du nectar sombre. 9 h 30 Elle n'avait pas passé longtemps au Coffee Pot. Elle avait du travail et ne voulait pas que tout le monde se prépare pour la journée sans elle. Quand elle est arrivée, la seule autre personne était Ted. Il a presque toujours battu tout le monde ici malgré être loin d'une personne du matin. C'était impressionnant si elle devait être honnête. Voyant le chef, Sadie a fait son chemin vers l'avant et a commencé à nettoyer. Elle était là depuis environ 30 minutes avant que Tommy n'entre en scène. Elle a fini ce qu'elle se préparait et a déménagé pour aider l'autre serveuse afin qu'ils soient terminés avant l'ouverture. Quand ils ont fini, elle a regardé sa montre en notant que l'heure d'ouverture était à l'horizon et a rapidement emparé ses écouteurs dans sa poche et a attendu les premiers mécènes de la journée.

Name: Sadie Katlyn Hill Age: 21 Height: 5’5” Weight: 124 lbs. Likes: Baking Sweets/Candies Putting a smile on someone's face Softball/Baseball Dancing Bow Hunting Reading Dislikes: Trying to remember her past Bullies Flirting Pushy/Bossy people Her Scars Cigarettes Alcohol Zodiac Sign: Gemini Special Talent: Dancing, Baking, and some would consider her kindness a special talent. Profession: She is currently a waitress at Footsteps Sports Bar but is also studying at a performing arts school for dancing. Bio/Personality: Sadie and her family originally lived in New York when Sadie was growing up. Her life from birth to about 6 was fairly normal. She had many friends in Kindergarten, and first grade had started the same way until something happened. You see Sadie wasn't born a Hill. She was adopted into the family at the age of six. She was orphaned when her family was killed during a kidnapping gone wrong. Her father and mother tried to stop two men who were attempting to kidnap Sadie and her younger brother. The parents were killed by the two men and Sadie and her brother had received serious injuries, but before the kidnappers could get away the cops showed up. The men were arrested and the two children were rushed to the hospital. Unfortunately, Sadie's brother died during treatment and when Sadie was stable weeks later they moved her to the children's wing. The long process of figuring out what to do with her began. She had no close or distant living relatives and they were most likely going to put her in the foster program. However, there was a family that had happened to be volunteering at the hospital at the time and Sadie quickly became attached to the twins of the family. The kids knew that Sadie was probably going to become a foster child but they couldn't let it happened. So after days of constant begging, their parents decided to undergo the adoption process. She doesn't remember much before the incident but loves her new family all the same. Sadie was overjoyed with the fact that someone had chosen to take her in. She had two new older brothers, Oliver and Alex; two older sisters, Lindsey and Kiley; and a younger brother, Micky. Her new parents were Nathan and Taylor. Her new family was loving and caring and she didn't feel left out for one second. They always made sure she felt at home with them. This is only the first chapter of Sadie's story. After finishing her schooling with this wonderfully close family standing behind her, she decided to head out her on her own to pursue her love of dancing. As far as who she is, Sadie is a natural caretaker. It is just who she is. Whenever she sees anyone hurting or in need she can't help but try to take care of them no matter who they are or what they've done. Although she does at times neglect to take care of herself and if anyone mentions it she will get upset. She makes friends easily, but she won't abandon her closest friends. Some people on the outside looking in probably think she has gotten over her past and is a perfect example of what someone should hope to be. This isn't true in the slightest. She still has her issues. As a result of the trauma early in her life, she has developed chronic depression and Depersonilization Disorder. It hasn't been that bad in recent years because she is starting to get better but she is still very self-conscious. Your character's favorite song: Tell us about yourself: *Your age: 21 *What part of the world are you from? North Carolina, USA *How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: That’s a little hard to answer. I’ll get into it if someone asks. *How often do you have time to post? Just depends on what’s going on that day. *Anything else you want to mention? Umm well, I like acting and I guess my enjoyment of roleplaying came from that.

Marinalia (Romus) Olympus The Old Starboard, dimanche après-midi Marilania a remarqué que l'homme marchait, elle n'avait évidemment pas été aussi discrète et sous le radar qu'il l'avait semblé. Eh bien, cela allait être embarrassant, il y avait un moyen probable de s'en sortir, mais sans avoir à recourir à des mesures désespérées. Penser rapidement et répondre avec un accent anglais chaleureux qui semblait avoir quitté le pays il y a seulement une semaine. "Oh, oui... un peu. Je croyais t'avoir reconnu de la piscine plus tôt. Luna sport, blonde évidemment... Maillot de bain bleu pâle? Les cheveux attachés en arrière? " Elle a toujours caché son estomac à la piscine, un méchant couteau blessé dans une attaque l'avait laissée avec une cicatrice qu'elle détestait. L'une des raisons pour lesquelles elle était devenue la personne qu'elle était, voyageant, prenant un emploi. L'entreprise familiale avait toujours été moins que polie, mais les choses se sont trop coupées la gorge. Ce n'était pas Marilania et elle s'est cassée du chemin de sa mère et a pris une vie semblable à celle de son père. L'argent n'en valait pas le prix. Il s'est présenté lui-même, au moins il était poli, allant un petit peu rose à se faire prendre la main a tendu la main pour les aviateurs vintage avant de décider de ne pas s'enfuir, malgré son embarrassant embarrassant d'être attrapé. "Marlin, si tu es formel, Marilania, Romus, Olympus. Désolé d'avoir regardé. Je serais plutôt un mauvais espion. Briser les œufs, faire des omelettes. Qu'est-ce qui vous amène à la ville de Sol, tout le monde a une histoire" Romus. Un réserviste d'un père qui l'avait abandonnée mais qui l'avait sauvée d'une manière, ses transactions en Afrique, et les expéditions lui avaient fait quitter l'Alaska. Pourquoi n'a-t-il pas pu expédier moins d'armes politiques que d'armes? L'Olympe. Olympus heavy Industries, une grande entreprise industrielle basée au Royaume-Uni, son grand-père à la tête du conseil d'administration, sa mère, sa tante ont tous eu voix au chapitre, les réseaux de mensonges, le côté sombre du succès et les fosses qu'ils étaient allés à l'achèvement, c'était une sorte de tache noire qu'aucune eau ne pouvait enlever. Une tache qui l'a fait ne jamais s'installer, la plus longue qu'elle ait été dans une ville était 8-9 mois avant de passer à autre chose. En regardant autour du bar, un autre étranger était entré, cheveux bruns, comme tout le monde, rien de spécial. Je suis allé au bar, pas de vrai bavardage. Thr bar était de plus en plus occupé, sans doute juste quelqu'un qui voulait une bière et une nuit tranquille. Sans remarquer qu'il a quitté les toilettes, elle s'est retournée vers les deux étrangers, ce que les gens doivent penser, une jeune blonde, des étrangers, une dame honorable bien sûr... Même si quelqu'un dans ce bar doutait serait innocent de quoi que ce soit de moins.

Marilania (Romus), Olympus (double barreled, somewhat a name she hides) Age: 27 Appearance: fairly Athletic, long straight Blonde and with a penchant for skirts she remained in good shape after professional sports, though now is quite abit off her competition times. Always wearing a silver necklace in the style of 3 moons linked together gifted from an old friend, and a fair sized diamond ring that belonged to her grandmother which she values above all other things. She has a distinct knife wound scar on stomach she tries to downplay and looks much like her mother but has eyes nearly identical to her father in a fairly cold grey. Sometimes seen in more normal clothes, other times wears a flight suit with range of patches from a few airlines and UK flag for work and vintage aviators picked up on her travels. Otherwise favours UK/European clothing brands and styles. Distinct English Accent despite travels Height: 5’5 Weight: 130 pounds Likes: Pancakes Flying Driving, Mostly SUV and off roaders. Tea Exploring old ruins and local towns Technology Awful movies Swimming Rock music Bakers Dislikes: Crash landings Smoking being a passenger Deceptions, lies and intriques Ultra packed locations Cold weather/places Navy/Ships. Long term ties to where she lives Being judged for her Family name/appearance Zodiac Sign: TAURUS Special Talent: Able to make a Chocolate filled pancake with chocolate between two layers of pancake, Very quick to adapt to new cities. Profession: qualified pilot and Co Crew on a local cargo. Helicopters and short haul airline flights respectively. (also works in there small inner city office when not flying cago's and does general paperwork related to aircraft) Bio/Personality: Daughter of an English wealthy family, her mother Maria raised her alone after her father Vesarian a captain and owner of a shipping enterprise involved in several less than above board jobs left her before she was born. Raised on the family estate she was taught for her younger years quickly learning to be fluent in both Latin and English as an old family tradition dictated. Sent off to a private academy when she was barely in secondary education, she soon found her skills after an injury on running track in the swimming pool and won multiple awards in various championships. Though this time was not all easy, being away from family for so long, being abandoned as a child and a lack of a “home” took its toll and made her distant and also reserved. Things turned round when she took a flying lesson for fun as part of the academies extracurricular programme; she soon took to it and passed her full license just before she was 18. Returning home to her family, the manufacturing business was turning nasty and a rival firm moving meant her happy reunion was shortlived soon sucked into the internal battles, rivalries internal and external that had plagued the family for decades. Worse still when a mugging went wrong left her with a now scar she hides on her stomach she decided to try and find her own way and escape her family’s internal pull down into its darkside of wealth. Meeting her step sister Victoria and her father just before she left was the final straw and headed off and worked for a mix of local airlines, helicopter taxi and other jobs before now taking a role at the Sol city Daedalus Airlines and settling down into a smaller but well-furnished top floor apartment in one of the outer districts. Recently arrived into the city she has not got many ties to the place, renting everything out of habit from a pre furnished apartment, to an offroad SUV (land rover Discovery) on short term leases, never wanting long term ties to a place. (Had to leave anchorage after a news article linked her father to legal arms trade in Africa and her and his name where linked by a investigative journalist. Headed to Sol city to take up a new work contract for local air freight company.) Personality wise she is fairly confident, flirty but also takes a while to warm to people having moved about so much. Fairly easy going, slower to trust though and less willing to forgive. Not always wanting to get very close to people as less to deal with when she moves on. Maybe the new city will change her outlook or just be another stamp on the passport. Caring but again takes time for that to happen after many moves, and too many people. Generally takes time for true self to evident. Has very few personal effects with her bar the named jewellery as had been pretty nomadic since she was 18 ish, 9 years or thereabout. Your character's favorite song: The following is not required, but we strongly encourage you to at least put a little something. In the past we have found that when players get to know each other as real people, not just as names on a screen, it helps the longevity of the game. Seriously, please get to know your fellow players. Tell us about yourself: *Your age: 27 *What part of the world are you from? United Kingdom *How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: 1-2 years offsite, 3 months on guild *How often do you have time to post? Fairly Regularly, 2-3 times a week, maybe more at weekend *Anything else you want to mention? Tea loving office dweller, i paint, do photography and self confessed a bit of a nerd on some things. I also collect wargames models. "These are the things that make a good story great and good writers even greater."

Ren Blanc The Old Starboard, dimanche après-midi "Docteur, alors M. DR. A peu près aussi lourd qu'un manuel de vol." Ren sniffa à la tentative de refléter sa propre blague sur le surnom. "Ren est bien." Comme s'il sortait de l'air, l'homme du bar était soudain à côté d'eux. Ren a regardé l'homme, levant un sourcil. Salut à vous deux, désolé si je suis un problème, mais je ne pouvais pas m'empêcher de remarquer que vous regardez dans ma direction générale. Le visage de Ren était de retour à un air d'ennui total, avec un intérêt soudain sur une tache sur la table et un trait faible de rose sur ses pommettes. Peut-être que j'ai tort, peut-être que j'ai raison, mais peu importe ce que j'ai pensé je pourrais aussi bien me présenter aux deux personnes qui semblaient me regarder. "C'est un peu présomptueux, non? Peut-être que nous voulions juste l'attention du serveur." Ren roula les yeux et se pencha la tête loin de l'homme. Kei, apparemment. Ren commençait à avoir de nouveau des vertiges. Ses paumes étaient transpirées et il a commencé à déjeuner hier avait été son dernier repas, et peut-être que ce n'était pas sa meilleure idée jamais. "Je suis Ren." Il s'est étouffé, toujours pas regarder Kei, avant qu'il se lève brusquement à nouveau. "Salle de bain, désolé." Alors qu'il quittait la cabine, il entendit Marlin se présenter vaguement. "Marlin, si tu es formel, Marilania, Romus, Olympe..." Ren n'avait pas vraiment besoin d'utiliser les toilettes, il a juste dû se lever. Le stress de ses études et de sa famille s'était accumulé, et apparemment aujourd'hui était un jour aussi bon que n'importe qui pour obtenir un effondrement. Ça n'a pas aidé que Ren ne se sente pas comme lui aujourd'hui non plus. D'habitude, il mordait des étrangers s'ils essayaient de lui parler, mais pour une raison quelconque, il ne pouvait pas s'en sortir aujourd'hui. Il marchait vite jusqu'aux toilettes. Poussant les yeux fermés, espérant qu'il fermerait la pulsation dans sa tête, Ren poussa la porte ouverte tout comme un homme partait. Ren était presque plus grand que l'homme et il lui a fallu un peu trop de temps pour le remarquer. Il a eu trop d'élan de sa marche et a marché sur le pied de l'homme avant de pouvoir s'arrêter, mais puis sa tête a recommencé à tourner – et il a renversé et a pris l'homme avec lui à sa chute. Ils ont atterri dans un écheveau maladroit sur le sol. « Ugh... » Ren a frappé la tête contre le mur à la chute, et était encore plus vertigineuse aujourd'hui qu'il ne l'était auparavant.

ℛen 𝒲hite Age: 21 Appearance: Height: 185 cm / 6’ Weight: 78 kg / 171 lbs Likes: Coffee, lots of it. Drinking – he loves to forget all about who he is, but hates being vulnerable of spilling his thoughts to other people. Arguing, and being right. Dislikes: Nosy people. Annoying people. People who think they’re better than him. Going to bed - Ren loves to sleep, but hates lying in bed alone with his thoughts. Zodiac Sign: Scorpio. Birthday: November 1st. Strengths: Resourceful, brave, passionate, stubborn, a true friend. Weaknesses: Distrusting, jealous, secretive, violent. Scorpio likes: Truth, facts, being right, longtime friends, teasing, a grand passion. Scorpio dislikes: Dishonesty, revealing secrets, passive people. Special Talent: Ren was taught to play the piano as a child, and is really good at it. Not that he wants anybody to know. He is also surprisingly good at dancing. Profession: Studying to become a surgeon at the most prestigious university in the city. Bio/Personality: Ren is the only child of a rich family. His father inherited a successful pharmaceutical company from his father again, earning them a fortune. Growing up in a big mansion Ren had lots of servants and maids around him, but rarely his parents - who were busy working. He has few friends and big time trust issues. He’s snarky, short tempered, grumpy and sulky when he doesn’t get his way. He’s smug, arrogant and believes himself to be better than most people. Secretly he just wants to be accepted for who he is instead of what he has and who his father is. He envies people who makes friends easy, and though he will never admit it he is drawn towards such people. Ren is struggling with his sexuality, not knowing what he identifies as. He tries to forget this by studying in most of his free time. As his father wanted, he’s in Med. School studying to become a surgeon, unsure of this is what he actually wants to do with his life. Your character's favorite song: Written in the Water by Gin Wigmore. If you bring this up Ren will turn beet red and utterly deny ever having heard of the song. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Tell us about yourself: *Your age: 22. *What part of the world are you from? Norway. *How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: I’ve never roleplayed on a forum like this before, but I used to roleplay a bit with people online back in the day when msn was a thing (Online chat, kind of like Skype), lol. It consisted primarily of speed posting, so writing paragraphs will be a welcoming challenge. I would exclusively do fandom based RP’s, so RP with OC’s is new territory for me as well. I think it’s more challenging to come up with the concept of a whole person instead of just writing about a character you’re already familiar with, but hey, still equally as fun. *How often do you have time to post? I’ll start by saying 2-4 times a week, but the way things are right now I’ll probably check in every day. *Anything else you want to mention? What you do for a living? How much do you work a week? What do you enjoy doing besides writing? I just finished my bachelor’s degree as a kindergarten teacher, but didn’t feel like going into the work field just yet, so now I’m studying a master’s degree in pedagogy. Other hobbies include watching movies and tv series, creative stuff like needle felting, drawing/painting, strumming clumsily on my ukulele and singing (guitar is too hard for me, lol.), etc. I play video games to a certain degree, but the games I can play is limited due to sever motion sickness if it’s a first person kind of game (I’ll almost throw up after 30 minutes of games like Mass Effect or such… (ಠ‿ಠ’) ). BTW: During winter here in Norway it gets dark most of the day. Right now, we get about 8 hours of sunlight a day, but it gets worse (ಥ_ಥ) Because of this most of us suffer from winter depressions, including me. Hooray ʘ‿ʘ. So if I get down in a funk and needs to step back from obligations I will give a heads up. I don’t think this will become likely right now, but maybe it will when I have exams on top of everything else. We’ll see (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ. PS: Sorry for the emoticon abuse. I find them too funny sometimes （´・ω・ `）(send help).

Kei Kinzo Kei écoutait attentivement pendant que la femme nommée Marlin parlait, et quant au gars, avant de donner toute sorte de nom qu'il appelait Kei dehors pour être présomptueux. Honnêtement, il avait raison pour tout Kei sait peut-être qu'ils essayaient d'attirer l'attention de quelqu'un d'autre dans le Old Starboard. Ce n'était pas longtemps après que le mâle de finalement se soit présenté comme Ren. Kei sourit et hoche la tête, alors qu'il allait ouvrir la bouche et s'excuser d'être présomptueux sur les regards, Red se tenait de son siège en regardant un peu mal à l'aise et s'excusait à la salle de bains. Comme tel Kei n'a pas pu s'excuser ou dire quoi que ce soit au mâle plutôt. Maintenant, c'était juste à Marlin et Kei. C'est pendant ce temps qu'un autre client était entré dans le magasin, mais Kei n'a pas beaucoup prêté attention à l'autre client. Après une brève seconde de silence, Kei regarda Marlin et commença à parler. Comme Ren l'a dit avant de m'excuser, j'étais vraiment présomptueuse et en tant que telle, je voulais m'excuser d'être ainsi. En tant que tel, il n'y a aucune raison de s'excuser pour quoi que ce soit, comme en toute technicité, vous auriez pu juste regarder dans l'espace qui, par coïncidence, était dans ma même direction. Après avoir pris une autre petite gorgée de son rhum et de sa coke dilués, il toussait légèrement pour l'éclaircir la gorge. De toute façon que vous parliez de la piscine, je vous y ai certainement vu plus tôt aujourd'hui, alors que bref, je vous ai vu. Est-ce que vous allez à l'établissement sportif une partie de votre routine quotidienne? J'ai pensé que je t'y avais vu d'autres fois en plus d'aujourd'hui. Désolé si je suis un peu insouciant, pas d'obligation de répondre d'ailleurs. Kei ne s'est pas rendu compte mais il commençait à devenir un blabber bouche, il était juste en cours et sur quelque chose qu'il ne savait vraiment pas. Non seulement ça commençait à lui faire paraître un peu flippant. Dans son esprit, il était venu à réaliser cela et en tant que tel, il commençait à devenir un peu embarrassé de lui-même. Il a laissé un petit rire essayer de son mieux pour atténuer toute gêne entre les deux.

Name: Kei Kinzo Age: 21 Appearance: Height: 178 cm or 5'11" Weight: 82 kg or 180 lbs Likes: Kind people, video games, cold weather, anime, manga, talking to people, technology, cars, fun activities, girls, cooking, good food, living comfortably, keeping things simple, guns, glasses. Dislikes: Bad people, boring people, overly deep water, liars, school, unneeded details, cigarettes. Zodiac Sign: Aquarius Special Talent: Kei doesn't have any extraordinary special talent, but what he is good at is video games, cars, and cooking. Aside from those three things he is about as average as a person can get in terms of other talents. Profession: To avoid having to work for the rest of his life Kei decided on taking a job that would allow him to both have fun and make tons of money on a day to day basis, as such his profession lies in day trade, whether it be stocks or foreign currency he trades them all and makes a good amount of money doing it. Despite having an honest to good job, every now and again he is an arms dealer that lies within the grey area of legality. Bio/Personality: Kei is probably an overly outgoing guy, he was always this way since a young age, he really didn't care who someone was or what kind of person they were as long as they were kind he was able to get along with them with ease. He is a simplistic thinker and hates when things are made overly complicated since there is no real reason for things to become harder than it already is. As such he does his best to simplify every aspect of his life without compromising his interests. While yes he would love to live as a god and not have to worry about bodily functions, but he would not go and get special surgery to get bodily functions removed. A trait that usually goes hand in hand with outgoing, is being kind and helpful. Kei does not lack that trait in any way you can say he is the epitome of a kind and outgoing guy even to a fault. Aside from all that Kei is the type of guy to try and get to know a random stranger in the street and hopefully become friends with said stranger for a lifetime, he cares that deeply for relationships. Growing up Kei was always intelligent and methodical about everything he did, this carried all through his life even to now. That's one of the reasons he decided to become a day trade and arms dealer. He wanted a life of relative ease and comfort. While he does hate the idea of school he understands that somewhere down the line the diploma and education will benefit him and as such he is putting himself through school something that his parents always struggled to do as they could never afford to get him in, but with Kei coming into a fortune due to day trading and arms dealing, he has no problems affording the tuition costs for school, as such he puts himself through it all. While yes Kei is indeed richer than most people, he does not like to show it off because then he feels he is being a horrible person for doing so. Your character's favorite song: *Your age: 20 *Region: United States *How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: 4-5 years *How often do you have time to post?: Pretty much everyday unless stated otherwise *Misc: I do attend university so sometimes the work load from that may cause me to go MIA for a day or two, but I will always give a heads up! "These are the things that make a good story great and good writers even greater."

Marinalia (Romus) Olympus The Old Starboard, dimanche après-midi Notant que Ren montrait quelque peu des signes d'avoir quelques-uns, pas trop nombreux et encore sobres pour fonctionner bien que les routes pourraient ne pas être très sûres de sa conduite. Il y avait quelque chose d'étrange chez lui, même si Marilania ne pouvait pas y mettre son doigt. Il semblait sur le point de dire quelque chose alors est venu l'explosion. Un saut soudain vers les toilettes, certainement somthing là-haut bien qu'elle l'ait connu toutes les 5 minutes et être très impolie à pry. "Bien sûr. Il regarde tes livres. L'autre homme était arrivé, thr bar semblait être amical et l'alcool avait un effet plutôt pratique pour rendre les gens moins embarrassants même si elle était coincée sur le thé et les non alcooliques. Le type avait l'air de gronder beaucoup, qu'est-ce que c'était avec cet endroit et les hommes trébuchant là-bas leurs propres langues, pas comme si elle portait quelque chose de provocateur. Pink track top, jupe, bottes, manteau plié soigneusement prochain obtenir des sacs et la paire d'aviateurs sur la table. Vintage des années 50 et du genre que vous avez vu dans un vieux film de WW2. Souriant légèrement, le dérapage n'était pas fou au moins. "Et bien je te regardais un peu.. Je n'étais pas sûr que tu sois d'où je connaissais quelqu'un d'ancrage. C'était un mensonge, mais ça pourrait couvrir le regard, et peut-être la faire paraître moins comme si elle le traquait. Ce n'est pas une bonne façon de rencontrer quelqu'un à quelque titre que ce soit. Ancrage. L'accent anglais a toujours été amusant à avoir parfois. La piscine, OK.. Pas de soucis là-bas, ils sont tous les deux là où être aussi faible clé flippant que l'autre. C'était une journée plutôt différente que Marinalia ne l'avait prévu. "Oui... Je suis un habitué si la vie me laisse, le travail de rota et tout. Essayez d'obtenir quelques kilomètres avant que les choses deviennent trop occupés avec tous les enfants. J'avais l'habitude de nager competive jusqu'à ce que j'aie eu un peu de malchance avec une blessure" Blessure, oui coup de couteau à l'intestin, mais ça met plutôt les gens sur le bord, les questions et tout. Les blessures, personne n'a jamais vu, barrent quelques amants et la famille qu'elle avait peiné à cacher pendant des années. "Donc, à part les réunions maladroites du bar. Qu'est-ce que tu as?"

Marilania (Romus), Olympus (double barreled, somewhat a name she hides) Age: 27 Appearance: fairly Athletic, long straight Blonde and with a penchant for skirts she remained in good shape after professional sports, though now is quite abit off her competition times. Always wearing a silver necklace in the style of 3 moons linked together gifted from an old friend, and a fair sized diamond ring that belonged to her grandmother which she values above all other things. She has a distinct knife wound scar on stomach she tries to downplay and looks much like her mother but has eyes nearly identical to her father in a fairly cold grey. Sometimes seen in more normal clothes, other times wears a flight suit with range of patches from a few airlines and UK flag for work and vintage aviators picked up on her travels. Otherwise favours UK/European clothing brands and styles. Distinct English Accent despite travels Height: 5’5 Weight: 130 pounds Likes: Pancakes Flying Driving, Mostly SUV and off roaders. Tea Exploring old ruins and local towns Technology Awful movies Swimming Rock music Bakers Dislikes: Crash landings Smoking being a passenger Deceptions, lies and intriques Ultra packed locations Cold weather/places Navy/Ships. Long term ties to where she lives Being judged for her Family name/appearance Zodiac Sign: TAURUS Special Talent: Able to make a Chocolate filled pancake with chocolate between two layers of pancake, Very quick to adapt to new cities. Profession: qualified pilot and Co Crew on a local cargo. Helicopters and short haul airline flights respectively. (also works in there small inner city office when not flying cago's and does general paperwork related to aircraft) Bio/Personality: Daughter of an English wealthy family, her mother Maria raised her alone after her father Vesarian a captain and owner of a shipping enterprise involved in several less than above board jobs left her before she was born. Raised on the family estate she was taught for her younger years quickly learning to be fluent in both Latin and English as an old family tradition dictated. Sent off to a private academy when she was barely in secondary education, she soon found her skills after an injury on running track in the swimming pool and won multiple awards in various championships. Though this time was not all easy, being away from family for so long, being abandoned as a child and a lack of a “home” took its toll and made her distant and also reserved. Things turned round when she took a flying lesson for fun as part of the academies extracurricular programme; she soon took to it and passed her full license just before she was 18. Returning home to her family, the manufacturing business was turning nasty and a rival firm moving meant her happy reunion was shortlived soon sucked into the internal battles, rivalries internal and external that had plagued the family for decades. Worse still when a mugging went wrong left her with a now scar she hides on her stomach she decided to try and find her own way and escape her family’s internal pull down into its darkside of wealth. Meeting her step sister Victoria and her father just before she left was the final straw and headed off and worked for a mix of local airlines, helicopter taxi and other jobs before now taking a role at the Sol city Daedalus Airlines and settling down into a smaller but well-furnished top floor apartment in one of the outer districts. Recently arrived into the city she has not got many ties to the place, renting everything out of habit from a pre furnished apartment, to an offroad SUV (land rover Discovery) on short term leases, never wanting long term ties to a place. (Had to leave anchorage after a news article linked her father to legal arms trade in Africa and her and his name where linked by a investigative journalist. Headed to Sol city to take up a new work contract for local air freight company.) Personality wise she is fairly confident, flirty but also takes a while to warm to people having moved about so much. Fairly easy going, slower to trust though and less willing to forgive. Not always wanting to get very close to people as less to deal with when she moves on. Maybe the new city will change her outlook or just be another stamp on the passport. Caring but again takes time for that to happen after many moves, and too many people. Generally takes time for true self to evident. Has very few personal effects with her bar the named jewellery as had been pretty nomadic since she was 18 ish, 9 years or thereabout. Your character's favorite song: The following is not required, but we strongly encourage you to at least put a little something. In the past we have found that when players get to know each other as real people, not just as names on a screen, it helps the longevity of the game. Seriously, please get to know your fellow players. Tell us about yourself: *Your age: 27 *What part of the world are you from? United Kingdom *How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: 1-2 years offsite, 3 months on guild *How often do you have time to post? Fairly Regularly, 2-3 times a week, maybe more at weekend *Anything else you want to mention? Tea loving office dweller, i paint, do photography and self confessed a bit of a nerd on some things. I also collect wargames models. "These are the things that make a good story great and good writers even greater."

Kei Kinzo En l'écoutant admettre le regarder, il se sentait un peu mal à l'aise dans son esprit s'en aller, il se sentait un peu mieux à l'approcher. Il ne voulait toujours pas sortir comme un flippant bien qu'il ait gardé le plus recueilli possible. Après avoir pris encore une gorgée de sa boisson, il a finalement fini, de la glace et tout, considérant que la glace vient de fondre. Il a posé la coupe sur la table et, avec un léger bruit de collage, il a glissé la coupe loin des deux d'entre eux. Après avoir été préoccupé par sa coupe pendant cinq bonnes secondes, il a finalement regardé la fille alors qu'elle lui parlait à nouveau. Elle avait mentionné comment elle pensait que Kei ressemblait peut-être à quelqu'un d'Anchorage. Il a laissé sortir un petit rire très amical et a commencé à parler. Je suis désolé de ne pas avoir été la personne d'Anchorage. Il a laissé un sourire amical alors qu'elle a commencé à mentionner l'installation sportive et comment elle était une nageuse compétitive. Je ressens la même chose, si la vie me laisse, je fais de mon mieux pour être à la gym tous les jours de la semaine. Mais comme toi, la vie est parfois trop occupée. Aussi a pu dire, je ne pouvais jamais imaginer essayer de nager de façon compétitive, je peux nager mais je suis complètement nul quand il s'agit de vitesse et de forme. Tu peux peut-être m'apprendre un jour? Ses yeux s'élargissaient pendant une très courte seconde, il sentait qu'il disait quelque chose qui pouvait être complètement mal compris, après tout Kei essayait juste d'être amical avec quelqu'un qu'il vient de rencontrer aujourd'hui, mais pas de venir sur elle. Il était profondément réfléchi avant qu'elle lui ait posé une question, au début, il n'a pas attrapé la première moitié de celle-ci, mais il a immédiatement attrapé la queue de la question. Mon truc, hein? Il a vraiment dû y penser pendant une seconde, comment pourrait-il simplement aller ouvertement et lui dire que je suis actuellement un étudiant ce jour-là trade comme son travail et pour l'argent parallèle traite des armes légères. Ce n'est pas quelque chose que tout le monde entend au quotidien et ce n'est pas quelque chose à laquelle les gens participent normalement lorsqu'ils essaient d'être un bon membre de la société. Il a couru ses doigts à travers ses cheveux et s'est griffé la tête pour un bref moment. Eh bien, je suis un étudiant actuellement. Je travaille à la maison, le salaire est décent, je fais assez pour dire que je suis à l'aise. Kei s'est arrêté pour une très courte seconde. À part ça, je ne fais rien d'autre, je vis la vie comme les jours viennent.

Name: Kei Kinzo Age: 21 Appearance: Height: 178 cm or 5'11" Weight: 82 kg or 180 lbs Likes: Kind people, video games, cold weather, anime, manga, talking to people, technology, cars, fun activities, girls, cooking, good food, living comfortably, keeping things simple, guns, glasses. Dislikes: Bad people, boring people, overly deep water, liars, school, unneeded details, cigarettes. Zodiac Sign: Aquarius Special Talent: Kei doesn't have any extraordinary special talent, but what he is good at is video games, cars, and cooking. Aside from those three things he is about as average as a person can get in terms of other talents. Profession: To avoid having to work for the rest of his life Kei decided on taking a job that would allow him to both have fun and make tons of money on a day to day basis, as such his profession lies in day trade, whether it be stocks or foreign currency he trades them all and makes a good amount of money doing it. Despite having an honest to good job, every now and again he is an arms dealer that lies within the grey area of legality. Bio/Personality: Kei is probably an overly outgoing guy, he was always this way since a young age, he really didn't care who someone was or what kind of person they were as long as they were kind he was able to get along with them with ease. He is a simplistic thinker and hates when things are made overly complicated since there is no real reason for things to become harder than it already is. As such he does his best to simplify every aspect of his life without compromising his interests. While yes he would love to live as a god and not have to worry about bodily functions, but he would not go and get special surgery to get bodily functions removed. A trait that usually goes hand in hand with outgoing, is being kind and helpful. Kei does not lack that trait in any way you can say he is the epitome of a kind and outgoing guy even to a fault. Aside from all that Kei is the type of guy to try and get to know a random stranger in the street and hopefully become friends with said stranger for a lifetime, he cares that deeply for relationships. Growing up Kei was always intelligent and methodical about everything he did, this carried all through his life even to now. That's one of the reasons he decided to become a day trade and arms dealer. He wanted a life of relative ease and comfort. While he does hate the idea of school he understands that somewhere down the line the diploma and education will benefit him and as such he is putting himself through school something that his parents always struggled to do as they could never afford to get him in, but with Kei coming into a fortune due to day trading and arms dealing, he has no problems affording the tuition costs for school, as such he puts himself through it all. While yes Kei is indeed richer than most people, he does not like to show it off because then he feels he is being a horrible person for doing so. Your character's favorite song: *Your age: 20 *Region: United States *How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: 4-5 years *How often do you have time to post?: Pretty much everyday unless stated otherwise *Misc: I do attend university so sometimes the work load from that may cause me to go MIA for a day or two, but I will always give a heads up! "These are the things that make a good story great and good writers even greater."

C'est l'heure? Dans son état chimiquement modifié, Sasha n'était pas en mesure d'éviter la collision et la chute éventuelle; s'il n'avait pas été pour le bruit et la douleur aiguë qu'il aurait à peine enregistré le dos de sa tête claquer sur le sol. Ce n'était en aucun cas une chute gracieuse. Sa vision est devenue floue et le petit homme s'est évanoui pendant quelques secondes. Quand il est venu à lui, il s'est demandé comment il a réussi à se retrouver sur le sol et pourquoi son pied lui faisait mal; il se sentait aussi stupide, mais ce sentiment découle davantage du fait qu'il était profondément ignorant de son environnement que d'entrer en collision avec quelqu'un. Quelques questions ont poussé à l'avant-garde de son esprit. Pourquoi était-il à un point de vue qui semblait être un bar? Il a bu? Il est soûl? C'est pour ça que tout a duré? Non, il était mourant... il a été tué dans un bar? Pourquoi a-t-il été tué? Malgré la paranoïa alimentée par la cocaïne, Sahsa a réussi à se calmer en se concentrant sur les connus. Il n'était pas mort ou mourant, il semblait juste qu'il rencontrait littéralement quelqu'un; peut-être était-il très sujet aux accidents. Son nom était Sas... Non, c'était Jocelyn... c'était totalement Jocelyn, car ce nom lui avait une signification intrinsèque. L'embrayage cher a suggéré à Jocelyn qu'il doit être joli mode avant de se promener avec un sac à main femme. Cependant, cela, associé au fait qu'il se sentait étrangement excité par le beau étranger qui s'est heurté avec lui a parlé de volumes de sa sexualité; cela a été soutenu par un souvenir brumeux d'un chauffeur d'Uber poli lui parlant des divers établissements homosexuels dans la ville plus tôt dans la journée. Quelle personne utile orientée vers le service que le conducteur était, Jocelyn s'est rappelé de laisser un examen positif quand il a obtenu la chance. J'ai entendu parler de tomber pour un homme, mais c'est ridicule chéri. J'imagine que la plupart ont tendance à m'acheter un verre d'abord. », a dit Jocelyn poussant les cheveux bruns errants de son visage alors qu'il s'élevait chakily à ses pieds; son accent russe plus prononcé que normal comme ses inhibitions étaient assez faibles en ce moment. Quelque chose se sentait comme s'il devait humilier cet homme pour son incompétence et exiger des excuses, mais Jocelyn l'a rejeté car il n'avait pas l'impression qu'il était aussi terrible d'une personne. Pardonne-moi ma maladresse... Je suppose que je peux être un sacré ditz quand je bois. Je suis vraiment désolé. » Après avoir désinfecté ses mains avec une lotion trouvée dans son embrayage, il a étendu une main maintenant propre pour essayer d'aider le beau étranger vers le haut avant de rougir. J'espère que vous n'étiez pas un rendez-vous en ligne. Ce serait vraiment embarrassant. Je me sentirais encore plus terrible alors je le fais déjà. J'espère ne pas être toujours aussi terrible aux premières impressions. Je déteste sonner en avant, mais avant que je fasse un plus grand imbécile de moi-même pourriez-vous s'il vous plaît me dire si je devrais vous connaître ou pas. Il semble que j'ai pris toute la bosse à l'arrière de la tête et les choses sont encore assez floues. » Quelque chose se sentait encore mal, comme s'il devait être beaucoup plus impitoyable et vil alors qu'il agissait. Son subconscient lui criait d'éternuer, mais Jocelyn lâcha un léger sourire à la place.

Max Sylvester Summerson Age: 28, just. Apparel: Height: 5'11 Weight: 145 Ibs Likes: Cigarettes, Cigars and Malt Whiskey; Fast Cars and Slow women; Coffee and Morning Mist; Working under the wing on a sunny day; Flying the plane in stormy weather; Lobster Thermidor and Pot Noodles; Letting off steam and Buckshot; Keats, Burns and Chaucer; Risk, Monopoly and DnD; Batting off of the wing of his plane; Big Dogs and sweeping up the runway; playing music loudly in a traffic jam. Dislikes: Paying Taxes and Government Plane Inspectors; Large Airlines and Traffic Control; Electric Cars and Counting Pennies; Other Pilots and Other Mechanics; Daedalus and PanAm. Zodiac Sign: Libra Special Talent: Mental Arithmetic Profession: Commercial Passenger/Cargo Pilot Personality: A bit on the quiet side, when Max says something his voice demands attention, that said he's not an attention seeker by any stretch of the word. Despite that he is a fun loving, and creative individual when you've been around him enough, with a very genuine sense of life and openness. As of recently however he has become more irritable and moody, with the decline of his company and the loss of his one other employee. He lives his life in a state of barely satiated boredom, having relied on his own entertainment as his circle of friends is fairly scant. But when he is with people, people he likes, he likes to take part in good hearted mayhem. Max doesn't feel like he is above anyone, and that comes off in the way he speaks to people, this doesn't mean he won't speak up if he knows he's right. Bio: To understand Max, one must take a trip back in time, to a time before he was born. Max's grandfather had emigrated from Germany to the United States in the Mid-30s, under his new, anglicized name Simon Summerson (previously Simone Zimmersonne). He had worked for Dornier as a technician at one of their engine works, and so had experience with motors and planes, as his engines went into Dornier's planes; the rise of the Nazi Party, however, convinced him to leave Germany. Quickly Simon found that his German Marks were worthless, and stuck in Britain as a young man with no credible references, he had to do petty work for petty cash. Once the war started however, he was drafted into the Airforce as a mechanic, and during desperate times he himself was forced to pilot fighters. After the war, decorated and an ace, Simon made the final leg of his journey to America. There, on the cramped boat, he made the acquaintance of one Axel Suhlhoff (Anglicized to Axel Suhl), a German Catholic who managed to escape in the final months of the war to Spain. Both being native to south Germany, they stuck together; Axel had not come alone however, he traveled with his wife and children. And his sister, Mira (whom Simon later married). Upon arriving the group continued to travel together, and found a place to settle in Solaris County. There, with what funds they had left, opened a machine shop and worked on tractors and crop dusters. It was in the summer of 51, when the government was surplusing DC-3s, that year Summerson and Suhl entered the business of actual flying. By the end of the 50s Suhl had passed away, but the company was in strong financial shape, the fleet had tripled to 9 planes by that time; making numerous flights every month under contract with state government. Summerson and Suhl continued to preform strongly for decades, hauling goods, mail and passengers and into and out of state. Plans for an air traffic control were drafted up and Martin, Simon's son, was acquiring finances when news arrived that Pan-America was opening a division on the west coast. Daedalus. Those plans of opening a terminal and getting the contract to traffic surrounding airspace were quickly put aside as an up hill battle ensured. Backed by the wealth of its mother company, Daedalus had established a large regional airport that quickly became international, state shifted its contracts with the newer airline and business began to dry up as a result of uncompetitive pricing of Daedalus deals. During this time Max was being raised, his father had insisted Max and all his children go to public school, despite his considerable wealth. Max didn't do particularly well, nor did he do particularly poorly, he was an average student by all accounts, only really excelling in maths but not algebra. Max was considered one of the cool kids, but his choice of company never really expressed it. He tended towards hanging out with the "nerds", going so far that people called him King of the nerds, a title he begrudgingly accepted. In this time he got into bored games and maths championships, skipping out on parties and dating for a night of DnD or CoC. Not to say he's never had experience with with the other gender, but his experience is lacking. Upon graduation his father's connections easily found him a place in the state university, where mostly he kept his head down and did his work, all the while training to be a pilot. It had seemed as though he was the only one of his father's children who had any intention on joining the family business. S&S slowly began to decline, and as did Martin's health, the once large fleet had to be sold off to cover medical expenses, and Daedalus tried numerous times to buy out the company to no avail. Max assumed control of the company a week after his father's passing, by that point it was him, and one other pilot. And 9 silent DC-3s, the planes that his father had instructed him not to sell no matter what. Loyal customers continued to be loyal, keeping the company barely afloat, but the company never really operated at full capacity. Recently the other pilot left for a more lucrative contract at Daedalus, and Max carries out contracts very rarely, coasting on the money he was left by his father and his degree in Civil Engineering. Max resides in the large house that was once his family home, his siblings had all grown up and left, and the house was empty but for a few rooms. His mother continues to live with him, quietly assuming her duties as head of the house. Your character's favorite song:

Ren Blanc Le vieux tribord, dimanche après-midi Ren ne pouvait rouler que lorsque la personne en dessous de lui a essayé de se lever, gémissant alors qu'il bougeait la tête trop vite. J'ai entendu parler de tomber pour un homme, mais c'est ridicule chéri. Je suppose que la plupart ont tendance à m'acheter un verre d'abord. C'est vrai. Comme un idiot ivre Ren avait non seulement maladroitment quitté Marlin et Kei, mais maintenant il s'était fait passer pour un trou du cul encore plus gros en attaquant physiquement cette femme dans la salle de bain. Ou... mec? Si oui, une très jolie. C'était la troisième rencontre de Ren avec un étranger aujourd'hui. Eh bien, troisième fois le charme, n'est-ce pas? Ren a regardé la personne. Ils étaient assez grands pour une femme, mais très minces et pas de courbes. La tête de Ren est trop blessée pour ce genre de puzzle en ce moment. Par chance, il n'a pas eu besoin de finir sa phrase non cohérente avant que l'autre homme ne parle à nouveau. Pardonne-moi ma maladresse... Je suppose que je peux être un sacré ditz quand je bois. Je suis vraiment désolé. Oh non, non. C'est de ma faute. J'ai – ahh.-Ren a essayé d'entrer dans une position assise, mais son corps avait d'autres plans, donc il a fini dans une demi-baisse contre le mur. L'homme a parlé assez formel alors qu'il sortait son embrayage – peut-être une femme alors? – et a appliqué du liquide sur ses mains. D'autre part, Ren lui-même portait une soi-disant purse-homme pour ses livres, donc... La personne avait la longueur de l'épaule, les cheveux bruns et les yeux bleus perçants – même si c'était un peu difficile à voir en raison de ses pupilles dilatées et son regard clignotant. Une main s'étendit devant Ren, et il s'essuya sur son pantalon avant de l'attraper, s'arrêtant aussi sur le mur tout en se tenant debout. Il maudit un merci sous son souffle. L'homme mince continuait à parler, les mots sortant un peu trop vite. Tout ce que Ren pouvait faire, c'était regarder la personne devant lui. J'espère que vous n'étiez pas un rendez-vous en ligne. Ce serait vraiment embarrassant. Je me sentirais encore plus terrible alors je le fais déjà. J'espère ne pas être toujours aussi terrible aux premières impressions. Je déteste sonner en avant, mais avant que je fasse un plus grand imbécile de moi-même pourriez-vous s'il vous plaît me dire si je devrais vous connaître ou pas. Il semble que j'ai pris toute la bosse à l'arrière de la tête et les choses sont encore assez floues. » Date...? Connaissez-moi... je, euh. J'étais ici seul, mais maintenant il y a ces deux étrangers et... Eh, Ren a griffé l'arrière de sa tête. Je ne sais pas pour les dates, désolé.Les mots sortaient tous mal, et Ren maudit intérieurement comme il pouvait sentir un léger rougissement sur ses joues. Sa bouche était cassée. Ça devait être l'explication de tout ce charabia. Cet homme l'a pris pour quelqu'un d'autre? Il avait un petit sourire sur les lèvres. Ren s'est débarrassé de la gorge après avoir regardé un peu trop longtemps, essayant de se composer avant de continuer. C'était ma faute. J'espère que vous n'êtes pas blessé. Laissez-moi vous acheter ce verre que vous avez mentionné comme des excuses à tout le moins. » Respirant profondément, Ren tenait la porte de la salle de bains ouverte pour l'homme, alors qu'ils retournaient dans le lieu. Diriger le chemin vers le stand où Marlin et Kei bavardaient encore maladroitement il pouvait entendre Kei parler. « J'ai juste une sorte de vie comme les jours viennent » Ren s'est assis sur le banc et s'est scooté, faisant place à l'étranger. Marlin et Kei ont arrêté de parler et il y a eu quelques secondes de silence à la table. Yeux pétillants, toux maladroite ou flagellation avec des fils lâches sur les bords des chemises avant que Ren ne commence. Je lui dois un verre. Est-ce que je peux t'avoir quelque chose pendant que je suis là-dedans?... Ren n'avait jamais été bon aux excuses, mais il pensait que c'était une bonne façon de commencer. Même s'il n'était pas tout à fait sûr pourquoi il voulait obtenir du bon côté de tout le monde aujourd'hui.

ℛen 𝒲hite Age: 21 Appearance: Height: 185 cm / 6’ Weight: 78 kg / 171 lbs Likes: Coffee, lots of it. Drinking – he loves to forget all about who he is, but hates being vulnerable of spilling his thoughts to other people. Arguing, and being right. Dislikes: Nosy people. Annoying people. People who think they’re better than him. Going to bed - Ren loves to sleep, but hates lying in bed alone with his thoughts. Zodiac Sign: Scorpio. Birthday: November 1st. Strengths: Resourceful, brave, passionate, stubborn, a true friend. Weaknesses: Distrusting, jealous, secretive, violent. Scorpio likes: Truth, facts, being right, longtime friends, teasing, a grand passion. Scorpio dislikes: Dishonesty, revealing secrets, passive people. Special Talent: Ren was taught to play the piano as a child, and is really good at it. Not that he wants anybody to know. He is also surprisingly good at dancing. Profession: Studying to become a surgeon at the most prestigious university in the city. Bio/Personality: Ren is the only child of a rich family. His father inherited a successful pharmaceutical company from his father again, earning them a fortune. Growing up in a big mansion Ren had lots of servants and maids around him, but rarely his parents - who were busy working. He has few friends and big time trust issues. He’s snarky, short tempered, grumpy and sulky when he doesn’t get his way. He’s smug, arrogant and believes himself to be better than most people. Secretly he just wants to be accepted for who he is instead of what he has and who his father is. He envies people who makes friends easy, and though he will never admit it he is drawn towards such people. Ren is struggling with his sexuality, not knowing what he identifies as. He tries to forget this by studying in most of his free time. As his father wanted, he’s in Med. School studying to become a surgeon, unsure of this is what he actually wants to do with his life. Your character's favorite song: Written in the Water by Gin Wigmore. If you bring this up Ren will turn beet red and utterly deny ever having heard of the song. ______________________________________________________________________________________________________________ Tell us about yourself: *Your age: 22. *What part of the world are you from? Norway. *How many years have you been writing/roleplaying: I’ve never roleplayed on a forum like this before, but I used to roleplay a bit with people online back in the day when msn was a thing (Online chat, kind of like Skype), lol. It consisted primarily of speed posting, so writing paragraphs will be a welcoming challenge. I would exclusively do fandom based RP’s, so RP with OC’s is new territory for me as well. I think it’s more challenging to come up with the concept of a whole person instead of just writing about a character you’re already familiar with, but hey, still equally as fun. *How often do you have time to post? I’ll start by saying 2-4 times a week, but the way things are right now I’ll probably check in every day. *Anything else you want to mention? What you do for a living? How much do you work a week? What do you enjoy doing besides writing? I just finished my bachelor’s degree as a kindergarten teacher, but didn’t feel like going into the work field just yet, so now I’m studying a master’s degree in pedagogy. Other hobbies include watching movies and tv series, creative stuff like needle felting, drawing/painting, strumming clumsily on my ukulele and singing (guitar is too hard for me, lol.), etc. I play video games to a certain degree, but the games I can play is limited due to sever motion sickness if it’s a first person kind of game (I’ll almost throw up after 30 minutes of games like Mass Effect or such… (ಠ‿ಠ’) ). BTW: During winter here in Norway it gets dark most of the day. Right now, we get about 8 hours of sunlight a day, but it gets worse (ಥ_ಥ) Because of this most of us suffer from winter depressions, including me. Hooray ʘ‿ʘ. So if I get down in a funk and needs to step back from obligations I will give a heads up. I don’t think this will become likely right now, but maybe it will when I have exams on top of everything else. We’ll see (づ｡◕‿‿◕｡)づ. PS: Sorry for the emoticon abuse. I find them too funny sometimes （´・ω・ `）(send help).

Les affaires commençaient à prendre dans le magasin de thé de Shizue. Un vieil homme a fini de siroter son thé juste avant que la foule du soir commence à s'aligner, comme il l'a souvent fait. Il était un client régulier dans son magasin depuis environ un mois maintenant, et est venu presque tous les jours à la même heure. On pourrait supposer que c'est ainsi qu'il a gardé un semblant d'horaire maintenant qu'il était, ostensiblement, à la retraite. Il avait toujours été cordial et amical à l'époque où il avait été un client ici, semblant n'être rien de plus qu'un homme ordinaire mais bon-natured. Il se leva et s'approcha du comptoir même s'il avait déjà payé et glissé Shizue une enveloppe blanche. "Un petit quelque chose de plus pour toi." C'est ce qu'il a dit. Avant que Shizue ne puisse s'y opposer, il était déjà passé par la porte. Non seulement il était étonnamment épouvantable pour un retraité, mais il semblait avoir soudainement un but qui n'était pas là avant. C'était comme s'il s'attendait à ce que quelqu'un commence à le poursuivre dès qu'il a quitté la boutique de Shizue. Tikaani avait toujours eu un lien particulier avec le monde spirituel, mais il ne s'était jamais manifesté tout à fait ainsi. C'était peut-être la première fois qu'elle était venue à Republic City pour visiter les forêts spirituelles qui s'y trouvaient, mais c'était la première fois qu'ils l'appelaient ainsi. Dès qu'elle s'est approchée de la forêt, elle a senti quelque chose qui l'a attirée plus loin, vers un point qui n'était presque pas lu par d'autres humains. Un mot est tombé de l'air pour qu'elle l'attrape. Kavi était récemment revenu de ses voyages, comme il l'a souvent fait, au Temple de l'Air du Nord. Un accueil amical l'attendait là-bas, comme toujours. Bien que la Nation de l'Air ait parcouru un long chemin au cours des dernières décennies, le Temple de l'Air du Nord était toujours le plus peuplé et était considéré comme le plus « ouvert » des temples de l'air, compte tenu de son histoire avec les étrangers. Un envoyé de l'Ordre du Lotus Blanc parlait avec un moine près de l'entrée. Ce n'était pas une vue terriblement rare, et ce membre de l'ordre avait été ici quelques fois auparavant. Ils ont tous les deux remarqué l'arrivée de Kavi. "Et tu es sûr que c'est lui que tu veux demander? Il y a des maîtres ici qui... » a dit le moine. -- Et j'apprécie leurs offres, interjeta l'envoyé, mais j'ai mes raisons de ne pas vouloir qu'ils se mettent sur la ligne. Oui, je suis certain qu'il est la personne pour le travail." L'envoyé s'est approché de Kavi et a dit assez gravement, "Kavi des nomades de l'air, l'Ordre du Lotus Blanc a besoin de votre aide." La ville de la République était toujours aux prises avec le crime, et bien que ce soit un problème que beaucoup étaient venus à accepter, cela signifiait l'opportunité pour les semblables de Virra Lin. Il a répondu à une prime qu'il avait tiré d'un mur, qui a demandé au lecteur d'aller dans un parc local près d'une des forêts d'esprit, de tous les endroits, pour plus d'informations. Quand il est arrivé à l'endroit mentionné dans l'avis de prime, il a rencontré un homme avec des lunettes de soleil et un costume formel, plutôt étrange pour ce type de réunion. Quand Lin lui a dit pourquoi il était là, l'homme s'est contenté de regarder sur lui et a dit "Vous semblez assez digne de confiance. Prends ça, s'il te plaît." L'homme lui tendit une enveloppe blanche et, d'une manière presque fantôme, disparut dans la forêt. C'était une journée moyenne au restaurant Kieran. La dernière foule venait de s'évanouir, et les choses seraient assez lentes pendant une heure avant que le dîner ne l'amène à nouveau dans la cuisine. Kieran avait été envoyé sur une course d'ingrédients car le restaurant était plus court sur quelques choses qu'ils ne l'avaient prévu. Alors qu'il allait mettre son manteau et sortir de la porte, il sentait quelque chose dans l'une des poches qui n'avait pas été là avant. À l'intérieur de son manteau, il y avait une enveloppe. Jalika avait traité avec de nombreux clients différents au fil des ans depuis qu'elle s'était installée dans l'usine de myrtilles, de sorte qu'avoir quelqu'un qui s'approchait d'elle chez elle n'était pas terriblement étrange. Ce qui était inhabituel, c'était ce que cet individu portait, une robe qui, si elle était réelle, l'aurait marqué comme membre de l'Ordre du Lotus Blanc. Il l'a approchée et a dit "Jalika des Nomades d'Air, le Lotus Blanc a besoin de vous." Sanrock avait eu une journée assez normale, et pratiquait son tir dans un champ de tir de fortune qu'il avait installé dans le désert à l'extérieur de la ville où il vivait. On lui a fait une pause quand, hors de nulle part, quelqu'un a frappé un œil parfait sur l'une des cibles qu'il avait posées. Il s'est retourné pour voir un individu s'approcher de lui. "Sanrock, l'Ordre du Lotus Blanc et votre peuple ont besoin de votre aide." Zayric avait répondu à une annonce personnelle qu'il avait vu dans le journal pour des pièces qu'il pouvait utiliser pour son mechsuit, quelque chose de assez rare en soi mais d'autant plus vu combien les prix offerts étaient bon marché. La personne qu'il avait rencontrée lui a vendu les pièces comme promis, et quand Zayric est rentré à la maison, il a remarqué qu'une enveloppe avait été soigneusement pliée et placée à l'intérieur d'un des joints. Le chasseur de primes connu le plus seulement comme Stalker était assis dans un bar local qui était fréquenté par son type. Une femme rugueuse aux cheveux noirs avec des cicatrices faciales proéminentes prit un tabouret de bar attenant et s'adressa à lui sans tourner la tête dans sa direction. "Si tu veux de l'argent, prends ça et fais ce qu'il dit." Elle parlait fermement mais rapidement. Elle s'est levée et est sortie du bar, laissant une enveloppe à côté du chasseur de primes. Dans le sous-sol du même bar, qui, si vous en aviez parlé, le barman insisterait seulement était utilisé pour stocker des provisions, un voleur solitaire s'est penché contre un mur après avoir été renversé que quelqu'un qui avait travaillé pour lui voulait le rencontrer ici. Le même homme qui avait été dans le magasin de thé de Shizue sans mots est entré dans le bar et a remis au barman une enveloppe, cachée entre plusieurs grosses factures. Le barman a dit "Ne dis plus rien, je reviens tout de suite." Il est entré dans la cave où le voleur séjournait et lui a remis l'enveloppe et une partie de l'argent, puis a saisi une bouteille qui était remplie d'alcool très cher. Il est revenu à l'étage et a dit: "Certainement, vous êtes un homme de goût exigeant, c'est la meilleure chose que nous ayons." Le vieux a pris la bouteille et est parti. À l'intérieur de chacune des enveloppes se trouvait une lettre qui était adressée individuellement au destinataire respectif. Chaque lettre se lisait comme suit: « Nous vous contactons au sujet d'une question de la plus haute urgence. Nous avons été témoins de vos talents uniques et sommes en train de vous atteindre précisément dans l'espoir que vous répondrez à nous dans notre heure la plus terrible de notre besoin. Si vous choisissez de nous aider, nous vous payerons tout prix que vous demandez dans la plus grande mesure de nos capacités, que ce soit votre poids en or, une faveur spécifique, ou la connaissance que notre organisation est à jamais dans votre dette. Si vous avez choisi d'accepter notre demande d'aide, venez à l'adresse ci-dessous avant minuit ce soir. Un représentant de notre organisation sera au sous-sol du bâtiment. » Chacune de ces lettres portait le symbole de l'Ordre du Lotus Blanc. L'adresse était d'un temple abandonné dans un bidonville à la périphérie de la ville.

Name: Real name unknown, goes by Cricket Gender: Male Bending ability if any: None Birthplace: Somewhere in Republic City Backstory: As far as anyone knows, Cricket has spent his entire life in the streets. He has been a thief since he was very young, and has learned the tricks of the trade mostly through trial and error. Over the years he's gained somewhat of a reputation for himself throughout Republic City's underworld as a reliable professional. Items/weapons on person: A dagger, his lock picking equipment, and several bombs. Physical Attributes and Abilities: Weapon proficiency: Dagger (II) Move silently (II) Infiltration (II)

Mmmmm... Mothberry Grove, Jalika a dit calmement. Ses yeux quittèrent l'homme pour l'instant, et continuèrent sa tâche. Elle cueillait les coques vides de cocons d'araignées dans les baies sauvages. Quand elle regarda en arrière pour voir l'expression perplexe de l'homme, elle exposa, dans son slur d'arrêt habituel, "Pas un Nomad. Maintenant je suis Jalika du Mothberry Grove. Qu'est-ce que le Lotus me veut?" Elle a continué à cueillir. De temps en temps, elle prenait une gorgée d'une bouteille, face à l'homme, mais toujours très calculée dans sa vue.

Name: Jalika Age: 26 Bending ability if any: Air Birthplace: Western Air Temple Personality: Carries a lot of the introspection that is common in Air Nomads, but without their air of lightheartedness and fun. Her personality is a mish-mash of traits, both earnest and affected. She appears as a typical drunk, and yet is known to dispense wisdom to anyone who bothers to listen to her. She acts as if she is still grieving for her loss, but has turned her need to nurture on to others. With Jalika, nothing is, in its entirety, on the surface, and she is not easy to read. Backstory (Optional): Though traditionally nomadic, Jalika would have called the Western Air Temple home in her youth. She was born there, and it was usually where she would return between journeys. She was poised to complete her training and attain mastery of Air Bending, but was jolted from her normal life when her bison companion was killed for fur by poachers. In her despair, she ran from the Temple and isolated herself for nearly a year. When she returned, the elder monks tried to use her friend's death as a teaching tool, warning her against earthly attachments. Rather than comfort her, Jalika was enraged by how little they regarded her loss. To her, it wasn't a mere physical loss, it was a spiritual one. On this note of disagreement, she left the order for good. In the years to come, Jalika fell into a cycle of despondence and alcoholism. That is, until she came upon a mothberry grove, so called because the plants feed the infant worms of spider-moths. When she came upon the grove, she found that it was often beset by silk makers, who would take the cocoons, the metamorphosing worms still inside, and boil them down to take the silk, with little regard for the creature inside. Jalika chased the cloth makers away, and found new meaning living in the mothberry grove, protecting the moths' young from predators and poachers alike. Since she's taken up residence, the grove has grown large and wild. She takes the husks of the cocoons, after the moths have hatched, and spins it into her own wild silk, which she sells to the people of the Fire Nation nearby. Items/weapons on person: - A plethora of folding paper fans, mostly Fire Nation in origin. - Usually just one bottle of wine - A small flute Physical Attributes and Abilities: - Airbending Uses a style of her own invention, called the Crooked Breeze, that mimics the unsteady movements of the very intoxicated. - Animal riding

Au début, tout ce que Zayric a fait était d'enlever l'obstruction articulaire et de le placer sur une table proche par, il était défiantement curieux mais en ce moment il voulait juste réparer son costume et le sortir pour un tour. Finalement, bien que sa curiosité ait obtenu le meilleur de lui et il a cessé de travailler pour ouvrir l'enveloppe et lire la note à l'intérieur. "Quel genre de " talents uniques" est-ce que je-" mais Zayric s'est coupé quand il s'est souvenu qu'il avait un costume de mech en sa possession. Zayric sourit un grand sourire et commença à se dépêcher avec les ajustements de son costume pour qu'il soit prêt d'ici minuit ce soir. Bientôt minuit vint et Zayric marcha jusqu'au temple. C'était une longue promenade mais c'était vraiment la seule façon non visible d'obtenir son armure là-bas et il n'a pas fallu tant d'efforts heureusement puisque son costume a fait la plupart du travail pour lui. Zayric est entré dans le bâtiment et a marché lentement vers le sous-sol tout en regardant dans la crainte à l'immeuble autour de lui. Après avoir vu un peu de vue, il a fait son chemin soigneusement en descendant les escaliers dans le sous - sol du temple.

Name: Zayric Age: 24 Bending ability if any: None Birthplace: Republic City Backstory (Optional): Items/weapons on person: -Jury rigged Mecha suit- A salvaged Mecha suit which is better and worse than the original design. Only a few of the original functions still work such as the obvious defence and strength but it also still has the built in flamethrower. The suit is a lot more agile than the average suit thanks to some actual ingenuity, Zayric managed to upgrade his suit with move advanced machinery in the movement department. On the downside though, the suit has been repaired with more common metals, making parts of it vulnerable to metal-benders. Just for a little pizazz he has an especially viscous looking Physical Attributes and Abilities: Engineering(II), Charm(III), Hand-to-hand combat(I)

Le sourcil de Shizue, qui était l'un de ses clients réguliers récemment, s'approchait du comptoir même si l'aîné avait payé sa facture. Il lui a fait penser qu'il avait peut-être une plainte ou quelque chose d'important qu'il voulait exprimer avec elle, ce qui semblait un peu bizarre pour cette personne. Il n'était généralement pas un pour beaucoup de mots, bien qu'il ait toujours été agréablement amical sans de telles choses. Elle ne savait pas grand-chose à quoi s'attendre du retraité, mais une simple enveloppe blanche ne l'avait pas été. Shizue s'était opposé, pensant que c'était une sorte d'argent supplémentaire ou un pourboire qui était trop gros pour partir, et elle n'était pas juste une personne qui prenait la main, mais il ne lui a même pas donné la chance. Elle n'en connaissait pas une qui pouvait avancer si vite et elle se penchait sur le comptoir, lui demandant d'attendre, mais elle tombait sur les oreilles sourdes pendant qu'il continuait. Une légère fronce a trouvé son chemin sur ses traits, ses yeux se déplaçant vers l'enveloppe dans ses mains et la tournant pour essayer de voir si elle avait une indication sur ce qui était à l'intérieur, mais même le sceau était vide. Elle chatouillait sa curiosité, ses doigts bougeaient pour briser le sceau seulement pour être interrompue par l'appel d'un client qui lui faisait réaliser que l'étrange lettre devait attendre. Shizue s'est assurée de mettre la lettre de côté dans un endroit sûr, en la gardant sur le dos de son esprit pour plus tard quand l'endroit était à l'arrêt ou quand 'Panada Lily' a été fermé pour la soirée.

Name: Shizue Bending ability if any: Waterbending, Healing Birthplace: Northern Water Tribe Age: 22 Backstory: Shizue spent her younger years in the Northern water tribe, learning from the best on how to heal and fight when she showed potential at waterbending. It seemed all was practically perfect, that is until her mother got really sick and no matter how much anyone tried it just wasn't getting better. Shizue even tried herself once when her mother was sleeping, hoping that maybe she could do it but it hadn't done anything. Her mother still faded away, smiling even in her last moments and telling her daughter to stay the strong smiling girl she loved. Asking her to watch out for her father since he would need his little girl more than ever. It left an empty feeling in her heart but she didn't let it get her down, fighting to stay happy and strong for her dad. Her father on the other hand felt like they needed to get away, away from the place where he could see his wife in every person and every turn. He thought about joining his sister in the Southern Water Tribe but decided against it, having a feeling even their he would be haunted with the memory so instead he went to Republic City to start a new life. He opened up a little tea shop called 'Panda Lily' and it seemed that they could get along now. Shizue kept up her waterbending on her own when ever she could, only waiting till she was in her teen years to explore other regions of the world and working as a Hunteress (Selling whatever she caught) to live. It took her all over but she always came back to visit her father, telling him stories of her travels. It sadly became a perminate stay when her father was murdered, the shop and the place above it suddenly becoming her own. Shizue couldn't bring herself to get rid of the place he worked so hard to make and the only home she mostly remembered. The business thrived under her care, some even giving her silly nicknames like 'Tea Goddess' thanks to her special secret brews. It seemed she always had something for the right occasion Items/weapons on person: Bow/Arrows and Daggers, Backpack (Filled with essential items), Water pouch Physical Attributes and Abilities: Waterbending/Healing (III) Carried Weapons (II) Acrobatics (I) Other: Shizue found this little guy in kind of a horrible way. She was hunting, trying to practice a better aim along with the fact she was tired of having fish everyday since she wasn't having much luck with anything else. It was the first time out on her own and there was no way she was going back so soon. She would be a failure in her eyes. It was then that she saw it,a large Addapard, it being occupied by what she assumed was a fresh kill or maybe even grazing so she took her shoot. Shizue rushed over in excitement but then felt her heart drop at what the beasts attention had been on. A small cub, its eyes not even open. Shizue felt like she might be sick, not even being able to look at the kill she had just made and not feeling right about eating the creature now. She carefully scooped up the cub, taking it with her and taking care of the poor boy by being its mother. Mitsuru is now her only companion.

Excusez-moi. le membre de White Lotus a dit en réponse à Jalika le corriger. "Il y a une situation à Republic City. C'est plutôt urgent, en fait. Je suppose que vous pourriez dire que je suis un scout de talent, et le type de talent que je cherche doit être capable de gérer le danger. S'il vous plaît, ne le prenez pas mal, mais l'Ordre a été... mis au courant que vous correspondez au projet de loi." Le représentant de l'ordre s'est arrêté pour voir comment Jalika prendrait ce qu'il avait dit. Il était clairement un peu anxieux, mais il parlait clairement. "Je réalise que ce n'est pas exactement une explication complète, mais s'il vous plaît comprenez, il n'y a que tant d'informations que je peux vous donner. Je suis plus que disposé à répondre aux questions que vous pourriez avoir, si vous êtes intéressé."

Name: Real name unknown, goes by Cricket Gender: Male Bending ability if any: None Birthplace: Somewhere in Republic City Backstory: As far as anyone knows, Cricket has spent his entire life in the streets. He has been a thief since he was very young, and has learned the tricks of the trade mostly through trial and error. Over the years he's gained somewhat of a reputation for himself throughout Republic City's underworld as a reliable professional. Items/weapons on person: A dagger, his lock picking equipment, and several bombs. Physical Attributes and Abilities: Weapon proficiency: Dagger (II) Move silently (II) Infiltration (II)

Elle s'est essuyée la bouche alors qu'elle glissa la fiole en céramique dans une poche de sa robe souple. "Vous pensez que j'ai un talent. Un dangereux. C'est une blague? A qui avez-vous parlé?"

Name: Jalika Age: 26 Bending ability if any: Air Birthplace: Western Air Temple Personality: Carries a lot of the introspection that is common in Air Nomads, but without their air of lightheartedness and fun. Her personality is a mish-mash of traits, both earnest and affected. She appears as a typical drunk, and yet is known to dispense wisdom to anyone who bothers to listen to her. She acts as if she is still grieving for her loss, but has turned her need to nurture on to others. With Jalika, nothing is, in its entirety, on the surface, and she is not easy to read. Backstory (Optional): Though traditionally nomadic, Jalika would have called the Western Air Temple home in her youth. She was born there, and it was usually where she would return between journeys. She was poised to complete her training and attain mastery of Air Bending, but was jolted from her normal life when her bison companion was killed for fur by poachers. In her despair, she ran from the Temple and isolated herself for nearly a year. When she returned, the elder monks tried to use her friend's death as a teaching tool, warning her against earthly attachments. Rather than comfort her, Jalika was enraged by how little they regarded her loss. To her, it wasn't a mere physical loss, it was a spiritual one. On this note of disagreement, she left the order for good. In the years to come, Jalika fell into a cycle of despondence and alcoholism. That is, until she came upon a mothberry grove, so called because the plants feed the infant worms of spider-moths. When she came upon the grove, she found that it was often beset by silk makers, who would take the cocoons, the metamorphosing worms still inside, and boil them down to take the silk, with little regard for the creature inside. Jalika chased the cloth makers away, and found new meaning living in the mothberry grove, protecting the moths' young from predators and poachers alike. Since she's taken up residence, the grove has grown large and wild. She takes the husks of the cocoons, after the moths have hatched, and spins it into her own wild silk, which she sells to the people of the Fire Nation nearby. Items/weapons on person: - A plethora of folding paper fans, mostly Fire Nation in origin. - Usually just one bottle of wine - A small flute Physical Attributes and Abilities: - Airbending Uses a style of her own invention, called the Crooked Breeze, that mimics the unsteady movements of the very intoxicated. - Animal riding

Tikaani a lu la note plusieurs fois. Elle pensait reconnaître le symbole sur le papier, mais il ne lui est pas venu tout à fait à l'esprit en ce moment. Soupirant que les esprits devaient attendre, elle monta Siku, son léopard polaire. Elle a tapé Siku sur sa tête, la faisant sortir un petit rugissement. "Venez sur Siku, quelqu'un nous a convoqués." Tikanni a conduit Siku à travers la ville à la périphérie. Elle avait l'habitude d'avoir des apparences étranges à cause de Siku, mais ça ne lui dérangeait pas. Ni Siku. Elle aimait l'attention. Ils s'arrêtèrent au bord du temple.

Kieran Jong | 23 | Earth Birthplace: Republic City Backstory (Optional): Kieran was born in Republic City to an earthbending mother and a nonbending, water tribe native father. He grew up with a decent life, his father worked as a chef and his mother was a police officer. Kieran himself got into the normal amount of mischief as a kid, of course his mother's status as an officer kept him on the right side of the law most of the time. As he got into his teens, he dabbled in the pro-bending leagues, winning enough money to get him by. Recently, he took up a job at the restaurant his dad works at as a sous chef. His mother is working on enrolling him in the police academy, but lacking the money for the upfront costs, Kieran has decided to work alongside his father for now to save up the money. Items/weapons on person: An engraved sabre fang from the northern water tribe, given by his father. Some change. A metal wire spool similar to what the police force uses, modified to be hidden underneath sleeves. Physical Attributes and Abilities: Earthbending (IIII) Metalbending (II)

Kavi Kavi sourit, donnant un arc à l'homme avant de le suivre et le moine à qui il parlait dans le temple. Contrairement aux autres moines, les robes de Kavi étaient colorées dans des tons de rouge et de noir, pour représenter ses racines de nation de feu, ou alors c'était ce que les moines lui avaient dit. En réalité, Kavi n'est jamais vraiment compatible avec les styles plus traditionnels des Nomades d'Air, et certains ont ressenti un bot de ressentiment envers lui en conséquence. Bien que Kavi ne se soucie pas beaucoup de cela, il y a eu des moments où il est devenu douloureusement évident combien certaines personnes ne voulaient rien faire avec lui, et cela a pesé sur son esprit. Qu'est-ce que je fais en me sentant si glouton, détends-toi déjà! Vous obtenez une mission d'un membre du Lotus Blanc, à quel point c'est génial?!?! C'est un jour heureux, et donc, il faut un visage heureux. Maintenant suce-le et ne t'embarrasse pas. Kavi s'est légèrement giflé au visage, secouant la tête un peu plus tard avant que le groupe n'arrive finalement à une pièce sécurisée. Une fois là-bas, le membre de White Lotus lui a dit tout ce qu'elle avait besoin de savoir sur la mission, ce qui était certes très peu, mais cela n'avait pas d'importance. C'était plus qu'assez pour attraper l'intérêt de Kavi et ils se hurlaient comme des fous à mi-chemin. L'homme était confus par le manque d'affirmation verbale, seulement pour le moine de chanter rapidement en ce que Kavi était apparemment muet, ayant été incapable de parler pendant longtemps, même si d'après ce que les guérisseurs pouvaient dire, rien n'est mal avec eux médicalement. L'homme hoche la tête dans l'intelligence, se tournant vers Kavi seulement pour les amender partis, après s'être enfui de la pièce dès que l'attention avait été levée de lui. Bientôt, le cri d'un Bison du Ciel put être entendu, ainsi que les cris d'un Rasharna très somnolent et malheureux comme il a été traîné par Kavi pour participer à l'un de ses activites les moins préférés. L'homme se mit un peu à l'enthousiasme du garçon tandis que le moine à côté de lui soupirait tout simplement.

Name: Tikaani Age: 23 Bending ability if any: Water Birthplace: Southern Water Tribe Backstory (Optional): Tikaani was born and raised in the Southern Water Tribe but she felt that she was called by the spirits. So at the of 15, Tikaani began to wonder the world, searching for Spirit sensitive areas. by far her favorite place is the spirit oasis. She wonders, visiting cities and villages to learn ways to connect with the spirit realm. She promotes peace between all benders and peace between spirits and humans. Tikaani travels with her polar leopard, Siku, who is quite gentle and friendly, who she uses as company and transportation. Items/weapons on person: A waterskin she carries everywhere. camping supplies and rations for travel, usually carried by Siku. Physical Attributes and Abilities: -Waterbending(III) +Traditional waterbending techniques +Can use octopus form(advanced) -Spiritual Meditation(II) +She is able to meditate and enter the spirit realm for a short time at places that are closely connected to the spirit realm. +She can detect auras -Healing(I)

Le représentant du Lotus blanc a été légèrement secoué à la question de Jalika. « Nous ne sommes peut-être pas l'organisation que nous étions autrefois, mais nous avons encore des yeux et des oreilles en plus de quelques endroits, vous voyez. S'il vous plaît comprenez, alors que nous n'espionnerions jamais, en soi, quand nous avons vraiment besoin de nouveaux membres, nous avons nos moyens. Nous savons que vous protégez seul ce bosquet, et depuis un certain temps pas moins. Ce n'est pas un petit exploit. Votre réputation est ce qui nous a conduits à vous contacter." Le membre du Lotus blanc qui avait été envoyé après Kavi s'est précipité après lui et lui a remis l'adresse et les instructions sur la façon d'y arriver. Alors qu'il partait, il criait : "Et quoi que tu fasses, assure-toi que tu ne dises à personne qu'on t'envoie!" Le voleur a fait son chemin vers la partie de la ville où le temple était censé être. Il était dommage qu'un temple ici ait été forcé de fermer, comme il semblait que cette partie de la ville aurait pu utiliser de manière douloureuse toute la charité qu'elle avait à offrir. Les bâtiments ont été fabriqués de façon shooddile et ont l'air vieux et décrépit, bien que ce soit une partie relativement nouvelle de la ville. Tout était sale. Ce n'était cependant pas une préoccupation du voleur. Il est resté dans l'ombre et s'est lentement déplacé vers le temple, évitant les endroits ouverts où il pourrait être vu. Les gens d'une telle communauté étaient probablement habitués à son genre, et la loi ne serait probablement pas venue dans cette partie de la ville rapidement si sa présence était signalée, mais il ne voulait pas prendre de risques. Il a utilisé des maisons sans lumière allumées, qui étaient situées loin de la rue principale comme sa couverture. Le manque de lumière le gardait invisible jusqu'à ce qu'il atteigne le temple. Alors qu'il le voyait, il vit qu'il y avait déjà quelqu'un, une femme qui conduisait un grand animal. C'était un bon signe, mais il ne voulait pas encore être vu. Il se retourna et emménagea de nouveau dans l'ombre, cette fois pour la petite zone boisée qui était juste derrière le temple. Il se déplaça derrière les arbres et atteignit l'arrière du temple où, heureusement pour lui, il y avait une porte de derrière qui était bien hors de la vue de quiconque. Il est entré et, au lieu d'entrer dans le sous-sol, a marché directement à la porte d'entrée. De l'intérieur du temple, Tikaani entendait une voix. " Quelqu'un qui prétend être le Lotus Blanc vous a-t-il contacté?" il a demandé.

Name: Real name unknown, goes by Cricket Gender: Male Bending ability if any: None Birthplace: Somewhere in Republic City Backstory: As far as anyone knows, Cricket has spent his entire life in the streets. He has been a thief since he was very young, and has learned the tricks of the trade mostly through trial and error. Over the years he's gained somewhat of a reputation for himself throughout Republic City's underworld as a reliable professional. Items/weapons on person: A dagger, his lock picking equipment, and several bombs. Physical Attributes and Abilities: Weapon proficiency: Dagger (II) Move silently (II) Infiltration (II)

Tikaani n'a pas monté Siku et a fait quelques pas vers la voix. Elle a senti un frisson descendre sa colonne vertébrale de la personne craintive, mais a ignoré le sentiment. En lui saluant légèrement la tête, elle répondit : « Oui. J'ai été appelé par le Lotus blanc ici et je suis ici pour répondre à cet appel." Tikaani a levé la tête en arrière. Siku grondait doucement et roulait sur son dos paresseusement.

Name: Zayric Age: 24 Bending ability if any: None Birthplace: Republic City Backstory (Optional): Items/weapons on person: -Jury rigged Mecha suit- A salvaged Mecha suit which is better and worse than the original design. Only a few of the original functions still work such as the obvious defence and strength but it also still has the built in flamethrower. The suit is a lot more agile than the average suit thanks to some actual ingenuity, Zayric managed to upgrade his suit with move advanced machinery in the movement department. On the downside though, the suit has been repaired with more common metals, making parts of it vulnerable to metal-benders. Just for a little pizazz he has an especially viscous looking Physical Attributes and Abilities: Engineering(II), Charm(III), Hand-to-hand combat(I)

Pendant un bref moment, le voleur a été surpris par le bruit. Ses vêtements sombres et le fait qu'il n'y avait presque pas de lumière à parler l'aidaient à le cacher, mais il n'y avait rien ici pour se cacher derrière. "J'ai reçu la même invitation que vous apparemment, oui." le voleur a répondu à Zayric. Il a ouvert la porte un peu et a regardé dehors. Il a décidé que Tikaani et son animal n'avaient pas l'air particulièrement dangereux et a ouvert la porte complètement. Entrez. Le fait que nous nous réunissions dans un endroit comme celui-ci est un bon indicateur qu'ils ne veulent pas que nous soyons debout en plein air. »

Name: Real name unknown, goes by Cricket Gender: Male Bending ability if any: None Birthplace: Somewhere in Republic City Backstory: As far as anyone knows, Cricket has spent his entire life in the streets. He has been a thief since he was very young, and has learned the tricks of the trade mostly through trial and error. Over the years he's gained somewhat of a reputation for himself throughout Republic City's underworld as a reliable professional. Items/weapons on person: A dagger, his lock picking equipment, and several bombs. Physical Attributes and Abilities: Weapon proficiency: Dagger (II) Move silently (II) Infiltration (II)

Tikaani nudged Siku, faisant le chat paresseux se remettre avec un huff staunch. Elle a demandé qu'elle suive alors qu'ils entraient dans le temple. Elle a regardé autour et a vu qu'il y avait deux personnes. "Bonjour." Siku est passé à Zayric et le gros chat a commencé à le renifler partout. Tikaani sourit et traversa les bras. "On dirait que Siku s'est fait un nouvel ami." Siku a puré et léché le visage de Zayric.

Name: Sanrock, often shortened to San Age: 26 Bending ability if any: Knows very basic Earthbending techniques, other than that nothing. Birthplace: Earth Kingdom Appearance: Ground control to Major Tom. Wears this outfit, but without the skull shoulderguard. Personality: Will be added later. Backstory: Will be added later. Items/weapons on person: This rifle. It is capable of holding three rounds Twenty-one rounds for rifle This derringer. It can only hold one bullet, and takes half an hour to reload (can be done faster with a very expensive tool, however, but then it takes ten minutes) Three bullets for derringer Clothing Goggles Twelve yuan Physical Attributes and Abilities: Marksmanship (III) Engineering (II) Earthbending (I)

Shizue a fait signe à son dernier client, en fermant la boutique avec un soupir doux et a lentement commencé à nettoyer l'endroit seul depuis qu'elle avait envoyé ses aides à la maison il y a longtemps. Elle ne se souciait pas du travail, mais parfois elle souhaitait que son père soit encore là, les deux d'entre eux riant et plaisantant à la fin d'une longue journée de travail, au moins quand elle était là. Elle avait souvent appris qu'elle n'était pas assez là pour le regretter, car elle avait cru stupidement qu'il serait toujours là ou du moins longtemps. Elle savait que la vie n'était pas toujours juste, alors pourquoi avait-elle pensé que voyager était une bonne idée? Elle savait pourquoi et elle ne pouvait pas vraiment dire qu'elle ne voulait pas le refaire. Elle a manqué l'air libre et de monter avec Mitsuru à travers des endroits inconnus ou même dans des zones que personne n'osait aller mais elle ne voulait pas laisser aller cet endroit. Beaucoup d'offres avaient été faites pour acheter l'endroit, mais elle ne leur faisait pas confiance avec le bébé de son père qu'il a construit de la terre vers le haut et les seules personnes qu'elle avait confiance pour le prendre ont refusé de le garder. Ils étaient prêts à aider mais ils ne voulaient pas posséder ce qu'ils savaient devrait rester la sienne. Qu'est-ce que je devrais faire? Elle pensa à elle-même, en rangant le comptoir arrière pour le lendemain, quand sa main se baladait contre une enveloppe. Shizue a froncé, se demandant ce que sur terre quelque chose comme ça faisait là-bas jusqu'à ce qu'une lumière de reconnaissance apparaisse dans ses yeux à l'étrange chose. Elle avait presque complètement oublié l'enveloppe vierge mystérieuse des anciens et maintenant elle n'avait aucune distraction du jour pour l'empêcher de voir exactement ce qu'il lui avait donné. La lettre à l'intérieur n'avait pas été ce qu'elle attendait du tout et encore plus... Elle voulait y aller? C'était une sorte d'astuce? Pourquoi la voudraient-ils? L'homme n'avait pas l'air d'être le genre à la piéger, alors devrait-elle essayer? Ça en vaut la peine. Elle a passé des heures à réfléchir à l'idée et elle était finalement arrivée à une conclusion alors qu'elle se préparait à tout ce qui pourrait arriver. Shizue a installé quelqu'un pour diriger le magasin demain, emballé comme si elle partait en voyage et tirait sur ses armes pour être prêt si attaqué. Une fois que tout a été installé et enfermé, elle s'est installée à l'arrière de sa maison et a souri au pâturage d'Addapard là-bas. Mitsuru s'est levé la tête, se déplaçant à Shizue pour placer son visage contre le sien avec un étrange comme purre venant de sa poitrine. Elle gloussait, se frottait le cou avant d'embrasser le nez et parlait à l'animal avant elle comme si on parlait à un autre être."Nous devons aller quelque part et j'ai le sentiment que tu n'aimeras pas ça." Elle répondit alors qu'elle regardait ses oreilles revenir en arrière et qu'elles descendaient pour qu'elle puisse les préparer pour le voyage. Bien sûr, elle allait maintenant s'occuper du garçon qui faisait tout le voyage et qui était sur la défensive autour d'elle, alors elle a pitoyé celui qui a essayé de l'attaquer. Elle le sella, ajoutant les packs à ses détenteurs avant d'escalader gracieusement comme Mitsuru se tenait. Il sauta au-dessus de la clôture, s'élançant dans la nuit avec Shizue le conduisant dans la direction du temple. Peu de temps avant leur arrivée, d'autres se rassemblaient déjà près de l'entrée et elle se demandait si eux aussi avaient reçu la même lettre ou s'ils en faisaient partie. Au moins, je ne suis pas le premier ou le seul à arriver ou j'ai pu être nerveux." Shizue a déclaré avant de sauter de son voyage et de caresser soigneusement les autres fourrures pour le garder calme. Mitsuru l'a laissée calmer un peu avant qu'il ne s'éloigne de son côté, se dirigeant vers un endroit pour se coucher ou se cacher jusqu'à ce qu'elle revienne pour lui une fois de plus mais ses oreilles sont restées perchées et en haute alerte.

Name: Shizue Bending ability if any: Waterbending, Healing Birthplace: Northern Water Tribe Age: 22 Backstory: Shizue spent her younger years in the Northern water tribe, learning from the best on how to heal and fight when she showed potential at waterbending. It seemed all was practically perfect, that is until her mother got really sick and no matter how much anyone tried it just wasn't getting better. Shizue even tried herself once when her mother was sleeping, hoping that maybe she could do it but it hadn't done anything. Her mother still faded away, smiling even in her last moments and telling her daughter to stay the strong smiling girl she loved. Asking her to watch out for her father since he would need his little girl more than ever. It left an empty feeling in her heart but she didn't let it get her down, fighting to stay happy and strong for her dad. Her father on the other hand felt like they needed to get away, away from the place where he could see his wife in every person and every turn. He thought about joining his sister in the Southern Water Tribe but decided against it, having a feeling even their he would be haunted with the memory so instead he went to Republic City to start a new life. He opened up a little tea shop called 'Panda Lily' and it seemed that they could get along now. Shizue kept up her waterbending on her own when ever she could, only waiting till she was in her teen years to explore other regions of the world and working as a Hunteress (Selling whatever she caught) to live. It took her all over but she always came back to visit her father, telling him stories of her travels. It sadly became a perminate stay when her father was murdered, the shop and the place above it suddenly becoming her own. Shizue couldn't bring herself to get rid of the place he worked so hard to make and the only home she mostly remembered. The business thrived under her care, some even giving her silly nicknames like 'Tea Goddess' thanks to her special secret brews. It seemed she always had something for the right occasion Items/weapons on person: Bow/Arrows and Daggers, Backpack (Filled with essential items), Water pouch Physical Attributes and Abilities: Waterbending/Healing (III) Carried Weapons (II) Acrobatics (I) Other: Shizue found this little guy in kind of a horrible way. She was hunting, trying to practice a better aim along with the fact she was tired of having fish everyday since she wasn't having much luck with anything else. It was the first time out on her own and there was no way she was going back so soon. She would be a failure in her eyes. It was then that she saw it,a large Addapard, it being occupied by what she assumed was a fresh kill or maybe even grazing so she took her shoot. Shizue rushed over in excitement but then felt her heart drop at what the beasts attention had been on. A small cub, its eyes not even open. Shizue felt like she might be sick, not even being able to look at the kill she had just made and not feeling right about eating the creature now. She carefully scooped up the cub, taking it with her and taking care of the poor boy by being its mother. Mitsuru is now her only companion.

Zayric riait un peu comme l'animal avant qu'il lui lèche le visage. Il aimait les animaux mais il n'avait jamais eu un des siens puisqu'il ne pensait pas qu'il était à la hauteur de ce genre de responsabilité, mais cela ne voulait pas dire qu'il ne souhaitait pas en avoir un. "Alors, quels sont vos noms? Zayric a demandé quand il a donné à Siku un animal de compagnie avec la main de son costume.

Name: Zayric Age: 24 Bending ability if any: None Birthplace: Republic City Backstory (Optional): Items/weapons on person: -Jury rigged Mecha suit- A salvaged Mecha suit which is better and worse than the original design. Only a few of the original functions still work such as the obvious defence and strength but it also still has the built in flamethrower. The suit is a lot more agile than the average suit thanks to some actual ingenuity, Zayric managed to upgrade his suit with move advanced machinery in the movement department. On the downside though, the suit has been repaired with more common metals, making parts of it vulnerable to metal-benders. Just for a little pizazz he has an especially viscous looking Physical Attributes and Abilities: Engineering(II), Charm(III), Hand-to-hand combat(I)

Tikaani sourit et croisa et plaça les mains sur ses hanches. "Eh bien. C'est Siku." Siku s'est purée à son nom et s'est droguée contre Zayric. "Et maintenant tu seras toujours ton ami."Tikanni riait et marchait vers eux. "Je suis Tikaani. Quel est votre nom?" Elle a piqué Siku sur le dos, la faisant reculer.

Name: Jalika Age: 26 Bending ability if any: Air Birthplace: Western Air Temple Personality: Carries a lot of the introspection that is common in Air Nomads, but without their air of lightheartedness and fun. Her personality is a mish-mash of traits, both earnest and affected. She appears as a typical drunk, and yet is known to dispense wisdom to anyone who bothers to listen to her. She acts as if she is still grieving for her loss, but has turned her need to nurture on to others. With Jalika, nothing is, in its entirety, on the surface, and she is not easy to read. Backstory (Optional): Though traditionally nomadic, Jalika would have called the Western Air Temple home in her youth. She was born there, and it was usually where she would return between journeys. She was poised to complete her training and attain mastery of Air Bending, but was jolted from her normal life when her bison companion was killed for fur by poachers. In her despair, she ran from the Temple and isolated herself for nearly a year. When she returned, the elder monks tried to use her friend's death as a teaching tool, warning her against earthly attachments. Rather than comfort her, Jalika was enraged by how little they regarded her loss. To her, it wasn't a mere physical loss, it was a spiritual one. On this note of disagreement, she left the order for good. In the years to come, Jalika fell into a cycle of despondence and alcoholism. That is, until she came upon a mothberry grove, so called because the plants feed the infant worms of spider-moths. When she came upon the grove, she found that it was often beset by silk makers, who would take the cocoons, the metamorphosing worms still inside, and boil them down to take the silk, with little regard for the creature inside. Jalika chased the cloth makers away, and found new meaning living in the mothberry grove, protecting the moths' young from predators and poachers alike. Since she's taken up residence, the grove has grown large and wild. She takes the husks of the cocoons, after the moths have hatched, and spins it into her own wild silk, which she sells to the people of the Fire Nation nearby. Items/weapons on person: - A plethora of folding paper fans, mostly Fire Nation in origin. - Usually just one bottle of wine - A small flute Physical Attributes and Abilities: - Airbending Uses a style of her own invention, called the Crooked Breeze, that mimics the unsteady movements of the very intoxicated. - Animal riding

Je ne suis pas censé vous en dire trop. Le tireur a dit à Sanrock. « Seulement qu'ils pourraient vous utiliser à Republic City pour une question de grande importance, et bientôt. J'ai reçu pour instruction de sécuriser votre entrée dans la ville et de vous dire où aller, si vous acceptez." "Cricket." le voleur a dit clairement en réponse à Zayric. Il a cassé la porte une fois de plus pour voir ce que le bruit venant de l'extérieur était et a repéré une jeune femme avec un animal de conduite qu'il n'a pas reconnu. "Si vous êtes ici parce que le Lotus Blanc vous a contacté, je vous suggère de venir avant que vous attiriez l'attention sur votre présence." -- Oui, naturellement. le membre Lotus a dit à Jalika. « On m'a demandé de vous fournir à la fois une promenade à la frontière et un ferry dans la ville, bien que je ne puisse pas vous accompagner pour ce dernier. Êtes-vous prêt à partir?"

Name: Real name unknown, goes by Cricket Gender: Male Bending ability if any: None Birthplace: Somewhere in Republic City Backstory: As far as anyone knows, Cricket has spent his entire life in the streets. He has been a thief since he was very young, and has learned the tricks of the trade mostly through trial and error. Over the years he's gained somewhat of a reputation for himself throughout Republic City's underworld as a reliable professional. Items/weapons on person: A dagger, his lock picking equipment, and several bombs. Physical Attributes and Abilities: Weapon proficiency: Dagger (II) Move silently (II) Infiltration (II)

Elle n'a pas répondu immédiatement, à la place, Jalika a choisi une place dans la mûre envahie et a poussé son bras jusqu'à l'épaule dans le fourreau. Il y avait un moment de lutte, une malédiction lugubre et indistincte, et quand elle tira sa main libre, elle avait un bâton de maître de l'air traditionnel. Elle se penchait dessus comme si elle ne pouvait pas se tenir seule, malgré le fait qu'elle avait été très bien il y a un moment, puis a fait un geste à l'agent Lotus. "Le est parti." - C'est pas vrai. Un voyage plus tard, complété par une perte spectaculaire de son déjeuner sur le côté du ferry, et Jalika était dans le bon quartier. Elle trébucha dans les rues, et semblait décider de l'abandon qu'elle entra entièrement au hasard. Elle a remarqué une autre personne dans les rues autrement vides, chevauchant un animal qu'elle pensait, bien que toutes ses hypothèses étaient basées sur le mouvement de l'air sur sa peau. Quelqu'un à l'intérieur du lieu de réunion a remarqué soit l'autre personne, soit Jalika, et est sorti pour demander s'ils ont été convoqués par le Lotus. « Ils l'ont fait », a-t-elle dit, et s'est glissé devant lui avant qu'on puisse l'interroger davantage.

Name: Jalika Age: 26 Bending ability if any: Air Birthplace: Western Air Temple Personality: Carries a lot of the introspection that is common in Air Nomads, but without their air of lightheartedness and fun. Her personality is a mish-mash of traits, both earnest and affected. She appears as a typical drunk, and yet is known to dispense wisdom to anyone who bothers to listen to her. She acts as if she is still grieving for her loss, but has turned her need to nurture on to others. With Jalika, nothing is, in its entirety, on the surface, and she is not easy to read. Backstory (Optional): Though traditionally nomadic, Jalika would have called the Western Air Temple home in her youth. She was born there, and it was usually where she would return between journeys. She was poised to complete her training and attain mastery of Air Bending, but was jolted from her normal life when her bison companion was killed for fur by poachers. In her despair, she ran from the Temple and isolated herself for nearly a year. When she returned, the elder monks tried to use her friend's death as a teaching tool, warning her against earthly attachments. Rather than comfort her, Jalika was enraged by how little they regarded her loss. To her, it wasn't a mere physical loss, it was a spiritual one. On this note of disagreement, she left the order for good. In the years to come, Jalika fell into a cycle of despondence and alcoholism. That is, until she came upon a mothberry grove, so called because the plants feed the infant worms of spider-moths. When she came upon the grove, she found that it was often beset by silk makers, who would take the cocoons, the metamorphosing worms still inside, and boil them down to take the silk, with little regard for the creature inside. Jalika chased the cloth makers away, and found new meaning living in the mothberry grove, protecting the moths' young from predators and poachers alike. Since she's taken up residence, the grove has grown large and wild. She takes the husks of the cocoons, after the moths have hatched, and spins it into her own wild silk, which she sells to the people of the Fire Nation nearby. Items/weapons on person: - A plethora of folding paper fans, mostly Fire Nation in origin. - Usually just one bottle of wine - A small flute Physical Attributes and Abilities: - Airbending Uses a style of her own invention, called the Crooked Breeze, that mimics the unsteady movements of the very intoxicated. - Animal riding

Le nom est Zayric. C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer Tikanni, Cricket et Siku. Zayric a dit avec un sourire qu'il regardait le groupe qui habitait maintenant le temple. Par les sons venant de l'extérieur et les propres actions de Cricket il semblait que d'autres étaient sur le point de les rejoindre mais avant cela Zayric a mis son costume dans une position assise et verrouillé les jambes en faisant essentiellement une chaise surcomplexe.

Name: Zayric Age: 24 Bending ability if any: None Birthplace: Republic City Backstory (Optional): Items/weapons on person: -Jury rigged Mecha suit- A salvaged Mecha suit which is better and worse than the original design. Only a few of the original functions still work such as the obvious defence and strength but it also still has the built in flamethrower. The suit is a lot more agile than the average suit thanks to some actual ingenuity, Zayric managed to upgrade his suit with move advanced machinery in the movement department. On the downside though, the suit has been repaired with more common metals, making parts of it vulnerable to metal-benders. Just for a little pizazz he has an especially viscous looking Physical Attributes and Abilities: Engineering(II), Charm(III), Hand-to-hand combat(I)

Cricket a hurlé à Zayric mais n'a rien dit, il n'était pas vraiment pour les gentillesses. Après avoir laissé entrer les deux, Cricket s'est tourné vers Jalika. La seule raison pour laquelle il n'était pas encore allé directement au sous-sol c'était parce qu'il ne voulait pas être le premier en bas de la chance que c'était une installation. "Si vous vous dirigez vers le bas, dirigez-vous." C'est ce qu'il a dit.

Name: Real name unknown, goes by Cricket Gender: Male Bending ability if any: None Birthplace: Somewhere in Republic City Backstory: As far as anyone knows, Cricket has spent his entire life in the streets. He has been a thief since he was very young, and has learned the tricks of the trade mostly through trial and error. Over the years he's gained somewhat of a reputation for himself throughout Republic City's underworld as a reliable professional. Items/weapons on person: A dagger, his lock picking equipment, and several bombs. Physical Attributes and Abilities: Weapon proficiency: Dagger (II) Move silently (II) Infiltration (II)

Shizue s'est sentie un peu maladroite en entrant, allant complètement inaperçu sauf pour le mâle qu'elle a attrapé a été nommé Cricket comme il était celui qui lui a dit d'entrer. Elle n'a pas eu envie d'interrompre tout le monde en se présentant si elle avait à peine été remarquée alors elle est restée silencieuse et a espéré que ce n'était pas un énorme piège où ils étaient tous conduits. Shizue prit une profonde respiration, s'avançant jusqu'à l'escalier qui mène au sous-sol et regarda vers le bas dans ses profondeurs. Après tout, quelqu'un devait être le premier alors pourquoi pas? Elle regarda Cricket pendant qu'il parlait, souriant un peu avant de mijoter et de se diriger vers le bas. Ils pourraient suivre s'ils le voulaient ou si c'était un piège qu'au moins ils pourraient sortir même si elle ne l'a pas fait. "C'est parti."

Name: Shizue Bending ability if any: Waterbending, Healing Birthplace: Northern Water Tribe Age: 22 Backstory: Shizue spent her younger years in the Northern water tribe, learning from the best on how to heal and fight when she showed potential at waterbending. It seemed all was practically perfect, that is until her mother got really sick and no matter how much anyone tried it just wasn't getting better. Shizue even tried herself once when her mother was sleeping, hoping that maybe she could do it but it hadn't done anything. Her mother still faded away, smiling even in her last moments and telling her daughter to stay the strong smiling girl she loved. Asking her to watch out for her father since he would need his little girl more than ever. It left an empty feeling in her heart but she didn't let it get her down, fighting to stay happy and strong for her dad. Her father on the other hand felt like they needed to get away, away from the place where he could see his wife in every person and every turn. He thought about joining his sister in the Southern Water Tribe but decided against it, having a feeling even their he would be haunted with the memory so instead he went to Republic City to start a new life. He opened up a little tea shop called 'Panda Lily' and it seemed that they could get along now. Shizue kept up her waterbending on her own when ever she could, only waiting till she was in her teen years to explore other regions of the world and working as a Hunteress (Selling whatever she caught) to live. It took her all over but she always came back to visit her father, telling him stories of her travels. It sadly became a perminate stay when her father was murdered, the shop and the place above it suddenly becoming her own. Shizue couldn't bring herself to get rid of the place he worked so hard to make and the only home she mostly remembered. The business thrived under her care, some even giving her silly nicknames like 'Tea Goddess' thanks to her special secret brews. It seemed she always had something for the right occasion Items/weapons on person: Bow/Arrows and Daggers, Backpack (Filled with essential items), Water pouch Physical Attributes and Abilities: Waterbending/Healing (III) Carried Weapons (II) Acrobatics (I) Other: Shizue found this little guy in kind of a horrible way. She was hunting, trying to practice a better aim along with the fact she was tired of having fish everyday since she wasn't having much luck with anything else. It was the first time out on her own and there was no way she was going back so soon. She would be a failure in her eyes. It was then that she saw it,a large Addapard, it being occupied by what she assumed was a fresh kill or maybe even grazing so she took her shoot. Shizue rushed over in excitement but then felt her heart drop at what the beasts attention had been on. A small cub, its eyes not even open. Shizue felt like she might be sick, not even being able to look at the kill she had just made and not feeling right about eating the creature now. She carefully scooped up the cub, taking it with her and taking care of the poor boy by being its mother. Mitsuru is now her only companion.

Il y avait plus de gens ici que Jalika ne s'y attendait. Bien que, il avait nvwr avait beaucoup à faire pour former des attentes en premier lieu. Elle n'a fait aucun effort pour se présenter, et tout simplement suivi derrière la fille qui a pris sur elle d'être le premier à descendre.

Name: Jalika Age: 26 Bending ability if any: Air Birthplace: Western Air Temple Personality: Carries a lot of the introspection that is common in Air Nomads, but without their air of lightheartedness and fun. Her personality is a mish-mash of traits, both earnest and affected. She appears as a typical drunk, and yet is known to dispense wisdom to anyone who bothers to listen to her. She acts as if she is still grieving for her loss, but has turned her need to nurture on to others. With Jalika, nothing is, in its entirety, on the surface, and she is not easy to read. Backstory (Optional): Though traditionally nomadic, Jalika would have called the Western Air Temple home in her youth. She was born there, and it was usually where she would return between journeys. She was poised to complete her training and attain mastery of Air Bending, but was jolted from her normal life when her bison companion was killed for fur by poachers. In her despair, she ran from the Temple and isolated herself for nearly a year. When she returned, the elder monks tried to use her friend's death as a teaching tool, warning her against earthly attachments. Rather than comfort her, Jalika was enraged by how little they regarded her loss. To her, it wasn't a mere physical loss, it was a spiritual one. On this note of disagreement, she left the order for good. In the years to come, Jalika fell into a cycle of despondence and alcoholism. That is, until she came upon a mothberry grove, so called because the plants feed the infant worms of spider-moths. When she came upon the grove, she found that it was often beset by silk makers, who would take the cocoons, the metamorphosing worms still inside, and boil them down to take the silk, with little regard for the creature inside. Jalika chased the cloth makers away, and found new meaning living in the mothberry grove, protecting the moths' young from predators and poachers alike. Since she's taken up residence, the grove has grown large and wild. She takes the husks of the cocoons, after the moths have hatched, and spins it into her own wild silk, which she sells to the people of the Fire Nation nearby. Items/weapons on person: - A plethora of folding paper fans, mostly Fire Nation in origin. - Usually just one bottle of wine - A small flute Physical Attributes and Abilities: - Airbending Uses a style of her own invention, called the Crooked Breeze, that mimics the unsteady movements of the very intoxicated. - Animal riding

Cette ville est énorme. Tanno s'est dit en marchant dans la rue. Tout autour d'elle, les bâtiments étaient grands mais compacts. Il y avait du métal partout, y compris dans la police, qu'elle a vu poursuivre un jeune garçon dans les rues. Avec un objectif précis, Tanno a levé une petite brique juste devant le pied du garçon, le faisant tomber et rouler, permettant à la police de l'attraper. Au moment où ils avaient remarqué la brique surélevée, Tanno était parti de la scène. "J'ai besoin de trouver un hôtel." Elle a dit avec un bâillement. "Dormir sur le sol n'est pas bon pour moi." Tanno n'avait pas remarqué l'homme qui la suivait de loin. Il avait vu sa flexion précise et savait qu'elle allait être un bon ajout. Incapable de trouver un hôtel par elle-même, elle a commencé à essayer de demander aux gens qui l'ont passée, même si personne ne s'arrêtait et n'écoutait. "Monsieur, pourriez-vous... Excusez-moi, monsieur... ça a duré quelques minutes avant qu'un homme ne s'arrête. "Pouvez-vous me dire où se trouve un hôtel?" Au lieu de répondre, il lui a remis une enveloppe. -- Est-ce une carte? Elle a demandé, mais quand elle a levé les yeux, il était déjà parti. Avec un shrug, elle a ouvert l'enveloppe, lisant le message à l'intérieur. Il lui a dit où aller, même si elle ne savait pas où c'était. Après quelques heures de plus de voyage, elle est arrivée à l'immeuble et a commencé à entrer assez fort. Interrogée sur l'entrée, elle retenait l'enveloppe avec l'emblème du Lotus blanc. Elle se dirigea vers les autres, qui semblaient se tenir devant un escalier vers le bas. Tanno a regardé l'escalier avec une fronce, se déplaçant devant tout le monde pour regarder par-dessus. En dépit d'être très fatiguée, elle savait qu'ils avaient un peu peur des pièges. "Gardez-vous." Elle a dit, tirant légèrement sur l'épaule de la fille sur le point de descendre. Elle a frappé son poing contre le mur, se concentrant sur les vibrations. Grâce à ça, elle pourrait dire s'il y avait des pièges, dont il n'y en avait pas. "Sûre." Elle a dit, commençant sa descente avec un bâillement fort.

Name: Tanno Bang Bending ability if any: Earthbender Birthplace: Ba Sing Se Appearance: Tanno is a tall, slim, busty teenage girl with short, dark brown hair that she has styled in a spiky manner and forest green. She wears a juniper colored long sleeve shirt under an olive colored short sleeve shirt with chartreuse and shamrock designs running along the neck, the edge of the sleeve and the bottom and a pine colored line running along the buttons in the front. She also wears crocodile colored pants with a dark green, thin rope used as a belt and leaf green, ankle-high boots. Age: 15 Backstory: Tanno was born and raised in Ba Sing Se by her mother, Yisa, and her father, Roke, until she was 8. Since her parents owned a bakery, she was often with her best friend, Tae, running around the neighborhood. One day, Tae got sick and couldn't get better. Tanno had stayed by her side the entire time, refusing to return to the bakery until her friend got better. Many doctors had been by to see the girl but none were able to help her. Being only 9 at the time, Tanno wasn't able to handle the loss of her friend and spent 2 weeks in her room, not coming out for anything. During that time, she barely ate and became sick herself. When the doctors came to visit her, she became angry. Many of the stones around the room began lifting around the doctors, proving the girl to be stronger than she seemed. Her parents were able to calm her down and help her get better. Five years later, she left home, looking to train with the best, Through her travels, she found many earthbenders who could give her tips and tricks but none who could truly teach her. While traveling, she had heard of both metalbending, which she had believed to be a myth until she had seen it firsthand, and lavabending, which she had never heard of before. Despite practice with both, she was unable to use either. After a year of traveling, she ended up in Republic City. Items/Weapons on person: a pack full of food Physical attributes or abilities: Earthbending I, Physical Strength II, Concentrated Focus I, Defensive Style II Other: Lesbian man-hater.

Le sous-sol a été révélé être un couloir étroit, peut-être assez large pour que le groupe descende deux par deux. C'était presque noir ici, sauf pour une torche venant d'une cinquantaine de pieds d'ici. La torche était montée par une porte, apparemment menant à la zone où le groupe était censé se rencontrer. Celui qui a ouvert la porte d'abord verrait entrer dans une chambre humble. La pièce était petite, ronde, en brique, et d'une certaine façon encore plus nue que le reste de ce temple. Il a également été allumé seulement par quelques torches peu nombreuses placées autour d'elle. Le vieil homme qui avait contacté certaines personnes qui étaient ici se tenait au centre de la pièce, portant son uniforme de Lotus Blanc. Au coin, autant que cette pièce avait des coins, assis une petite fille.

Name: Real name unknown, goes by Cricket Gender: Male Bending ability if any: None Birthplace: Somewhere in Republic City Backstory: As far as anyone knows, Cricket has spent his entire life in the streets. He has been a thief since he was very young, and has learned the tricks of the trade mostly through trial and error. Over the years he's gained somewhat of a reputation for himself throughout Republic City's underworld as a reliable professional. Items/weapons on person: A dagger, his lock picking equipment, and several bombs. Physical Attributes and Abilities: Weapon proficiency: Dagger (II) Move silently (II) Infiltration (II)

Jalika a brièvement noté l'homme, mais était plus intéressé par la fille du côté de la pièce. Certains de ceux convoqués ici étaient assez jeunes, donc cela ne semblait pas aussi loin que cela le pouvait pour d'autres, mais elle était encore curieuse d'elle. Jalika traversa la pièce, se penchant légèrement sur son bâton, et s'assit dans une approximation proche d'une position méditative à côté d'elle, son bâton sur ses genoux. "Bonjour," a-t-elle salué avec un sourire simple. "Je suis Jalika. Quel est votre nom?"

Name: Jalika Age: 26 Bending ability if any: Air Birthplace: Western Air Temple Personality: Carries a lot of the introspection that is common in Air Nomads, but without their air of lightheartedness and fun. Her personality is a mish-mash of traits, both earnest and affected. She appears as a typical drunk, and yet is known to dispense wisdom to anyone who bothers to listen to her. She acts as if she is still grieving for her loss, but has turned her need to nurture on to others. With Jalika, nothing is, in its entirety, on the surface, and she is not easy to read. Backstory (Optional): Though traditionally nomadic, Jalika would have called the Western Air Temple home in her youth. She was born there, and it was usually where she would return between journeys. She was poised to complete her training and attain mastery of Air Bending, but was jolted from her normal life when her bison companion was killed for fur by poachers. In her despair, she ran from the Temple and isolated herself for nearly a year. When she returned, the elder monks tried to use her friend's death as a teaching tool, warning her against earthly attachments. Rather than comfort her, Jalika was enraged by how little they regarded her loss. To her, it wasn't a mere physical loss, it was a spiritual one. On this note of disagreement, she left the order for good. In the years to come, Jalika fell into a cycle of despondence and alcoholism. That is, until she came upon a mothberry grove, so called because the plants feed the infant worms of spider-moths. When she came upon the grove, she found that it was often beset by silk makers, who would take the cocoons, the metamorphosing worms still inside, and boil them down to take the silk, with little regard for the creature inside. Jalika chased the cloth makers away, and found new meaning living in the mothberry grove, protecting the moths' young from predators and poachers alike. Since she's taken up residence, the grove has grown large and wild. She takes the husks of the cocoons, after the moths have hatched, and spins it into her own wild silk, which she sells to the people of the Fire Nation nearby. Items/weapons on person: - A plethora of folding paper fans, mostly Fire Nation in origin. - Usually just one bottle of wine - A small flute Physical Attributes and Abilities: - Airbending Uses a style of her own invention, called the Crooked Breeze, that mimics the unsteady movements of the very intoxicated. - Animal riding

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"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone - we find it with another." —Thomas Merton Lost Boy by Ruth B I am just a L O S T B O Y Save me from myself Don't let me D R O W N Low on self-esteem, so you just run on G A S O L I N E N A M E Dominic Petrov Wells A G E 24 G E N D E R Male E T H N I C I T Y Polish, German, Russian, and Cuban O C C U P A T I O N Aspiring Novelist; works as an Manager of a Barnes and Noble store S E X U A L I T Y Pansexual R E L A T I O N S H I P S T A T U S Engaged to be married to Chloe Jameson E D U C A T I O N A L L E V E L Working on his Master degree for English; has a BA in Graphic Design. A P P E A R A N C E Dominic isn't really big - tall, sure - but not muscular. He's a thin man, not Slender Man-thin, but he doesn't a large assemble of muscle mass. There have been occasions where Dominic's body was called "lean", which is having the ideal fat content for whatever height someone is. Dominic has that. As tall as he is, which is two inches higher than an even 6'0, Dominic's weight isn't proportioned to make him look intimidating or fierce. He imposes a gentle appearance. When they look at him, they don't see a man that will pound them into the ground. They don't see a guy who will back down from a fight, either. Dominic imposes the kind of atmosphere that isn't either of things, yet if you push him far enough, you might be surprised. It doesn't help his case that he also has a very pale, white skintone. That doesn't mean he's albino, but when the sun meets his skin, it will boil deep red. Obviously he doesn't get out much. Dominic is very indecisive when it comes to his hairstyle. It's like he will go through a style every year. It's been like that since high school, starting at his freshmen year. He would go from short to long to longer to even longer, and then cut it to almost buzzcut-length. It has been noted by his family and his fiance that the latter was his worst yet. Still, there is no denying that Dominic has a track record of being experimental with his hairstyles. There wre even moments of him going blonde. Safe to say it didn't work out so well. Stupid college. Anyways, back on topic. Dominic's hair, now, seemed to ahve found a middle ground from his boy band-esque length and Army Buzzcut as it comes just a few inches above his neckline. The bangs are about three inches away from his eyes when they flow naturally without anything moving them. His natural hair color seems to be around a mix of auburn and some kind of hazelnut brown shade. It's really hard to pinpoint exactly what the shade of Dominic's eyes are. There have been quite a few people whom have tried to guess what they were. His parents say they are hazelnut like his hair, but Jean often told him that they seem to be more of a lax green-brown hybrid. Other times have been noted by his friends that Dominic's eyes are actually almond with a hint of chocolate brown. Even Chloe told Dominic that she was unsure what his eye color was. Most people really don't know. Dominic isn't even sure himself, so he just went with what seemed to be the general consensus of that kind of light brown, hint of almond shade. Whatever you want to say it is, there is one thing that is true: Dominic's eyes are, regardless of the lighting, what one thinks, or whatever, brown. Though, generally, Dominic's fashion sense is what is to be expected of him, there is also something quite unique about it. You see, there are two sides to Dominic's fashion style. There's the part that is conservative, traditional, and stylish; it's the side that speaks normality and presentability.This is the side that is usually made up of slacks and sweater vests and button-up shirts. This is the side that Dominic has been known to call his "formal" wear. It's the side where nothing out of the ordinary is spotted. Shirts that are of neutral colors; pants that are of presentable length; shoes that have no flashy design. This is the style of clothing that Dominic wears when he's forced to forsake all uniqueness. This is what he must resort to impress those he must, like possible future employers that will want him for a job, or his future in-laws. This is the style that looks good on him, but it is not the real Dominic Wells. The second style — the one that Dominic shows only those that he trusts; a style that has Dominic in his true element — is one that is composed of wacky colors, off-beat, totally out of the ordinary, completely opposite of conservative style. It is one that has mismatching socks, hats that are as goofy as the character they are based off of, shirts that often have some comical design, sometimes a caricature of political figures. It is a style that has pants of various makes and of various color combinations. It is a style completely his own, and Dominic owns it. He takes it by the horns like a bullrider, and commands it to walk for him and not him walk for it. Everything about it speaks the true Dominic; the Dominic that Chloe fell in love with after getting to know him; the Dominic that Jean knows, that Chloe knows, that Tish knows, that his parents know — that everyone knows. This is the style that Dominic can be himself without worry of feeling awkward and/or out of place in the clothes he wears. To put quite simply, it's where he feels most like himself. It's where he feels like the real Dominic Petrov Wells. Dominic could be the first one to admit that he was never one for having an extensive amount of piercings or body art like certain childhood friends of his; however, that doesn't mean that Dom hasn't delved into some aspects of the aforementioned body accessories. During his high school years, Dom was dared by Jean to get his ears pierced. God how it hurt. The fact that something was going to punch a hole through his year frightened him greatly, but he did it because he didn't want to give Jean the bragging rights of rubbing it in his face on how much of a coward that Dominic was. Besides, it was only two(one on each of his earlobes). Still to this day, Dominic keeps his ears pierced. He doesn't wear anything flashy - just a pair of simple pearl earrings that Chloe gave to him for his eighteenth birthday. It also just so happened that his birthday fell around when they graduated high school, so there's that too. Along with the two piercings that Dominic has, he also has a few tattoos, which is kind of funny since Dominic has a deep-rooted fear of needles. Still, he wasn't assertive enough to turn down Tish when she offered, so he just endured the pain. He didn't know what he wanted to get, so he let Tish just pick a couple for him. Of course he had to sign off on them as they would be on his body permanently. The first tattoo he got was inked onto his body when Tish was just starting her tattoo shop in 2013. This first tattoo is a Harry Potter-based one.It is the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. It has the shape of a regular triangle with a vertical line going from the corner right through the center to the bottom. Rising from the bottom is a circle stroke that surrounds the line and connects with it. Around the triangle on the left side are "I solemnly swear that". That part goes from the bottom left side to the top left in a diagonal. "I am up to no good." is the same, but it goes from top right to bottom right in a diagonal line. Both parts are written in a handwriting, This tattoo is located on the back of his neck. The second tattoo that Dominic got was as personal as personal can get. It was a tattoo he got to symbolize his love for his darling Chloe. It was a tattoo that was commissioned by his oldest - and best - friend growing up, Tish. This tattoo was a matching one he got with Chloe. Together, they are watercolor puzzle hearts. One — Chloe's tattoo — has the paint inside, and the other — Dom's tattoo — has it exploding around it. Chloe's was done on her right wrist and Dominic's was done on his left wrist. Separate, they just look like cool, moderately-flashy tatoos, but together it's clear to anyone that it's a symbol of their love. Chloe represents the control and containment of their love. She represents the quiant aspect of it while Dominic's exploding half represents the emotional, the unconditional, the absolutely, wholeheartedly, love that they share. Separate they are incomplete, but together, like Dominic and Chloe themselves, they are whole. H A B I T S | O D D I T I E S | Q U I R K S ♞ Wears mis-matching socks ♞ Non-traditional photo presence ♞ Can always be seen holding a cup of a hot beverage in his hands ♞ Refuses to step on cracks on the sidewalk ♞ Has a snork in his laugh every time H O B B I E S ♛ Reading ♛ Drinking Hot Beverages ♛ Taking walks on the beach, usually at night or around sunset/sunrise ♛ Writing down in his diary online blog ♛ Getting lost in the music he listens to L I K E S ✔ Chloe!!!! ("You will always have all of my heart. ♥") ✔ Poetry and novels(and any other form of reading) ✔ Hot beverages ✔ Anything Quirky or Unusual ✔ Food in general ✔ Music and talking about it ✔ Japanese Roleplaying Video Games ✔ Finding the hidden depths of films D I S L I K E S ✘ Needles ✘ His father's ways/expectations/judgmental attitude ✘ Heights ✘ Agression and Confrontations ✘ His melancholic mood swings ✘ Energy Drinks ✘ Indian Food(from India, not Indiana) F E A R S ☠ Chloe will leave him for someone more muscular, more attractive, more rich than he is ☠ His future mother-in-law ☠ Ending up alone. ☠ Heights ☠ Needles P E R S O N A L I T Y ♦ Benevolent ♦ Timid ♦ Placid ♦ Pensive ♦ The mind of Dominic Petrov Wells is a complex puzzle. There are mutiple turns, multiple levels, many ways where he could end up sweet, kind, compassionate, understanding, and just an all around sweet guy. There are times where the future husband of Chloe Jameson can appear confident in that non-threatening way, where he could appear like teh strongest man in the room just by the way he presents himself. No, not in the way where physical strength is the deciding factor. It's the way that really matters. It's the way where something in the eyes that exhibits a stern, subtle fiercosity that only those who truly know what he's about really know that it's the most attractive thing that Dom could do. It's the ways that, even though he doesn't have the most intimidating presence, the way he stands his grand more than makes up for it. And yet, Dominic Wells has moments where all confidence is gone as soon as a Ferrari goes 0-60mph. It lays deep within his own insecurities. These insecurities are rooted back to his childhood, back to how his father was, how he was treated in school(all of them),how everything about Dominic doesn't spell most would've thought was the fiance of Chloe Jameson. These insecurities are rooted in paranoia, hesitation, over-thinking, not sure if he is worthy of her, if she might find a better husband in the arms of someone who presented themselves in a stronger way that Dominic does. It's how that Chloe deserves someone more physically-fit than he is, more consistent displays of confidence, a reassuring attitude that won't give Chloe worries or anger. It's the way how Dominic becomes his own worst enemy. It's how he always will psyche himself out. It doesn't matter how many people say otherwise, once Dominic gets inside his own mind, once he starts to think about something in such a way that often puts him in a less-than flattering light, Dominic can't stop but think about the outrageous possible scenarios, and psyche himself out. He can't control how he has a slight paranoid mindset and over-thinks a lot of things that he really shouldn't. Existing somewhere between those two areas within Dominic's personality, there is another; less subtle and less co-dependent. It is a middle ground that has often been noted the place where Dominic has the most leeway of all sides to him. Build with layers of unpredictability and wackiness, this particular area is where the goofball in Dominic resides. In a land full of pranks and odd dosesof laughter, this is the area that was geographically formed during his college years. Well into his relationship with his Chloe, this side emerged. It brought him out, and Dominic found different sides of him. He found a love for conversation, wacky parties, illogical attire choices, and pretty much became open to indulge into anything silly, whimsical, and any combination of the two. This is where Dominic truly came out. Through all intents and purposes, this land, if made into a movie, would probably be a Tim Burton movie with Johnny Depp starring as Dominic. Often noted by several people, they have said that Dominic's mannerisms were always polite. Eyes are always up front, never do they drift from where they should be. Odd, probably, but the thing about Dominic is that he likes to make a good first impression. Even though there have been some contradictions about him, like how he has confidence but has insecurities that make him lack his confidence in himself, he still likes to at least try to make sure that he meets the eyes of whomever he's trying to impress. It doesn't matter if it's a potential employer, his future in-laws, or whatever. There will always be maximum effort from his part to at least make sure the impression made of Dominic is at least one that could be considered favorable. Even if somehow screws it up, Dominic wants to at least try his best. If he does that, then he would consider it a success. H I S T O R Y Dominic Petrov Wells was born on June 25th, 1992. His father, Conrad Tobias Wells, co-founder and co-owner of the Wells-Smith Law Firm, and his mother, Yesenia Constance Ramos-Wells, the Head of Public Relations of Wells-Smith Law Firm. Together they would raise their sons in their four bedroom Miami house in the suburbs, about twenty minutes away from the beach region of Miami. The years that followed were as bare as they could get. Dominic grew up in a nice, post house with a brother, a mother, a not-so-present father, and a few nannies that came over the years. Due to their jobs, Jean was the one who mainly looked after Dominic. Of course, there were nannies here and there, but Yesenia did do most of the raising. She tried to make sure that she raised them, showed them what the love of a mother could do. She made sure to give them all the unconditional love that she could. While attending elementary school, Dominic met an unlikely friend by the name of Patricia Webber. She was odd. He was shy. Somehow they seemed to form some kind of friendship that would carry on for the years to come. Eventually, as both Wells children grew into their late childhood, it was revealed that Yesenia was pregnant. It was a girl. The rave in the Wells household was quite high, especially with the fact that Yesenia was finally getting a daughter. Her parents were all about making the occasion as stress-free as it could be. All of the classes that she had to go to were taken care of by her mother and father, and pretty much everything that she needed, was more or less taken care of by her family. that whole year was pretty much stress-free for Yesenia - well, aside form the fact that her husband was always being difficult. His usual words weren’t helping anyone, and most believed that he knew that. In fact, some among Yesenia’s family thought he was just doing it to spite her, to spite her family, to spite their children, and to spite anyone who would have been present during his constant ramblings. Aaahh, whatever, not like Yesenia would let it bother her. She’s such a Cuban woman. It didn’t matter. Once she got into her last trimester, no one was going to say anything, especially Conrad. And especially when she was going into birth. That was a scary time. Dominic doesn’t recall it that well. He only knows of what Jean has hinted to him over the years and that the birth of their sister, Anastasia Iris Ramos — who was born on December 23rd, 1998 — was a dark time for the Wells family. Apparently Conrad became the most obedient husband for the first week. Dominic couldn’t believe it, but apparently anything was possible. And thus the years continued on. Dominic and Jean started to become men. Only two years apart they were, so they generally went to the same schools up until Dominic was in seventh grade(Anastasia at the time was just starting first). Dominic was bound to be in the same high school as his big brother by the time he was a Freshman(9th grade). At the time, Jean would have been a Junior(11th grade). And by that time, Anastasia would have been in third grade. Still very young. High school was rough for Dominic, and his home life didn’t make it any easier. If it wasn’t bad enough that the kids at school were making fun of him, he was hearing whispers that his father might be cheating on his mother. You could imagine that this made Dominic angry, but he couldn’t do nothing about it since he didn’t have any concrete proof. It wouldn’t become known until a year later when Yesenia would confirm it one day. Apparently he had been cheating on her with his partner’s fresh-out-of-high-school daughter. Her name was Alison something something. Dominic really didn’t pay attention to her name. He honestly couldn’t stand the woman. She had broken up his family by seducing his father -or maybe he seduced her. Dominic wouldn’t know nor did he care. That put a sour note on his thoughts of his father. Safe to say that not long after all that went down, Yesenia put a speeding halt on the marriage, and filed for divorce. Of course, Dominic, Jean, and Anastasia were all behind her. The divorce wasn’t finally settled until three years later, by which time a lot happened to Dominic. In those three years, Dominic had surprisingly hit it off with someone unexpected. Her name was Chloe Elizabeth Desiree Jameson. They were paired as partners for the first US History assignment of the year. Of anyone that Dominic would end up with, he never expected it would be the Head Cheerleader of Miami Beach High School. She was beautiful, smart, sociable, liked by all, loved by more, and even envied by an equal amount. Every girl wanted to be her, and every guy that Dominic knew of wanted to be with her. It didn’t make any sense for them to be together, and yet, by new years, they had shared a kiss; a kiss that Dominic initiated. It was so strange. Complete opposites they were, but somehow they fit together so perfectly. When asked about Chloe and how such an awesome woman could be with someone like him, Dominic usually shrugged. He didn’t know why either, but there was a part of him that always wondered why. He never stood out as the kind of guy that would be liked by the kind of girls that Chloe seemed to be like. She was pretty and he was average; she was sociable and he wasn’t. Everything about them couldn’t anymore opposite from each other, yet it worked. It more than worked out. If you look at how many dates they shared, including most dances of both their Junior and Senior years, including proms of both years, they obviously had something between them. Most of his insecurities would be gone by their Senior Prom as he saw her in that red prom dress that made him melt a little. Stupid he was for having those insecurities and stupid he was for thinking that she wouldn’t want to be with him. She stayed after getting to know his father and his new wife. If she could stick around after that, then maybe she was the one after all. And thus began their post-high school lives. With both of them going to the same college, they were bound to have time together, right? Nope. Dominic and Chloe would have to make sure they stuck to a plan of weekly dates. She had the study of Microbiology and Immunology, while Dominic kept to his strengths, and double majored in English Lit and Graphic Design. Somehow both were able to remain as close as they were in high school, especially when she got accepted into the Delta Gamma Sorority. Apparently she was a legacy member, which made Dominic fear the worst. Would she end up like her mother after all of that? Dominic didn’t want to think like that, but he couldn’t help it. As it turns out, Dominic was just being paranoid because the woman that he feel in love within high school was the same woman he graduated with. And when they both graduated, there was such an overwhelming feeling that came over Dominic. When he saw her in her gown, when he saw how utterly happy she was, Dominic had realized something. All of his insecurities that he had, all of those doubts that she was with the wrong man, all of those thoughts that he had that she might leave him for someone better had gone away. The one thing that he knew was that he loved her; and at their party, in front of all of their friends, in front of all of their family, in front of all of those that cared deeply about them, Dominic probably surprised everyone — including himself — by getting down on one knee, holding out his mother’s grandmother’s Diamond and White gold engagement ring. The only person that knew about this was Dominic’s mother, but that was mainly because she’s his best friend right next to Tish. Of course she said yes — well, right after she stopped crying — and he slipped it on her. When she said yes, there were cheers of happiness and support — well, except from Edith and Conrad. The former never approved of Dominic and the latter didn’t think it was anything to congratulate, not with his contempt he held for his son. Still, Dominic wouldn’t let it ruin his mood. Of course, it was much due in part that the look on Chloe’s face wouldn’t allow him to let his father ruin his big moment. Or rather, their big moment. Only a year later would they become official, because within the next 365 days, Dominic and Chloe were to bed wed, and were to be husband and wife. F A M I L Y Polish-German | Cuban | Slovac-Russian Conrad Tobias Wells | Father | 53 | Lawyer; Owner of the Wells-Smith Law Firm | Face Claim: Robert Downey Jr. Everyone knows Conrad as the giving, charible guy who always defends the weak. They know him as one-half of the Defense Dream Team on the East Side. They know him as the one guy to go to if you're in a tight bind, but they don't know the real COnrad Tobias Wells. They only know what he wants people to know. They don't know the cheating Conrad Wells; they don't know the lying Conrad Wells; they don't know the abusive, demeaning Conrad Wells.They don't know the Conrad Wells that has constantly belittled his own flesh and blood; they don't know the side of Conrad Wells ruined his family for a younger, hotter girl. The general public know nothing about the real Conrad Wells. Alison Lianna Smith-Wells | Stepmother | 29 | Trophy Wife Finacial Accountant for Wells-Smith Law Firm | Face Claim: Amber Heard Not much to say about this one. She was the one that stole Conrad away from Dominic's mother. As far as everyone is concerned, she is public enemy number one. At least, that's what Yesenia says. Yesenia Constance Ramos| Mother |48 | Head of PR for the Wells-Smith Law Firm | Face Claim: Salma Hayek Strong-willed, passionate, loving to a fault, and above all, the heart of the Ramos name. She might still carry Conrad's last name, but someone like he will not let him control what she does. She still has her position at the firm despite what he did. As far as she's concerned, half of the firm is hers. According to what she has hinted at, Conrad understands that. He doesn't question what she says or anything. He simply pretends that nothing happened - well at least in the work place. To Dominic, she is everything to him. A momma's boy for sure. He loves his mother, his mami. He doesn't care who knows. His mother is his everything - well, right next to Chloe, that is. If anything were to happen, he woldn't know what to do. A bonus is that she absolutely loves Chloe. Anastasia Iris Ramos| Younger Sister | 18 | College Student at the University of Flordia | Face Claim: Victoria Justice The feisty younger sister, Anastasia Iris "Ana" Ramos. Much like her mother and much like her father, Ana has a fire in her belly that could only be rivaled by the fires of hell. She says what she wants when she wants to. All that comes from her mouth is unfiltered. It doesn't matter if it's dirty, blunt, or whatever. If Ana thinks it, most likely she's going to say it. When it comes to her future sister-in-law, she adores her, but is kind of baffled that someone like her actually stuck around after finding out the crazy, hot mess that her family is, she questions Chloe's sanity. Maybe Chloe's own is just as crazy. Oh well. Her loss, perhaps. A N Y T H I N G E L S E Movie-wise, I am definitely looking forward to Spider-Man: Homecoming

LOCATION — Miami International → Aéroport international de Las Vegas INTERACTION — Chloé () Tish () Paige () Viktor() Val() Oberon() River() L'OotD de Dom Alors qu'il sortait des talons de la troisième fête de Noël annuelle que Chloé et lui lançaient pour leurs amis et leur famille les plus proches, il avait une autre grande semaine devant lui. En un peu plus de six jours, Dominic épouse la fille de ses rêves. Eh bien, pas exactement vrai. La fille de ses rêves ne se compare même pas à son merveilleux fiancé, Chloe Elizabeth Desireé Jameson. Comment il a eu cette chance Dominic ne serait jamais en mesure de dire. Voici le gars qui était probablement l'adolescent le plus embarrassant du lycée central de Miami. Il s'est démarqué comme un mal de pouce - et pas dans le bon sens. Il a toujours été pris par ces jocks. Il n'avait pas beaucoup d'amis pendant ces quatre années infernales. Les amis qu'il a eu à l'aider étaient sa plus vieille amie, Patricia Webber, bien que tout le monde l'appelait Tish. Dominic l'a fait. Il l'a appelée Tish depuis qu'ils se sont rencontrés alors qu'ils étaient encore dans leurs années embarrassantes, adolescentes. Dominic n'avait jamais pu comprendre comment lui et Tish devenaient amis. Il avait toujours été maladroit. Il était maladroit quand il était petit. Et pourtant, par un coup de chance et peut-être un peu de main de quelque chose de plus, Dominic et Tish formèrent un lien qui serait autrement jugé impossible. Et quoi de plus, improbable. Pourtant, ils se sont révélés avoir un lien plus étroit que Dominic n'avait avec quiconque à l'époque. Tish n'était pas le seul avec lequel Dom avait un lien étroit. Il y avait aussi son frère, Viktor. Malgré les tensions croissantes qui avaient été brassées à la maison et même jusqu'à ce jour, lui et Vik avaient toujours maintenu une proximité que Dominic avait toujours aimée au-dessus de la plupart des choses. C'est la raison pour laquelle Dominic avait vécu une paranoïa au moment où l'avion arriverait à Las Vegas. Avec tout ce qui s'est passé dans sa vie et tout ce qu'il a essayé de passer, il y avait encore des choses avec lesquelles Dominic a lutté. Même s'il était entouré de ses amis et de son frère et de sa sœur bien-aimée, Dominic ne pouvait échapper à certaines de ses insécurités plus anciennes. Ou peut-être que c'était juste le fait qu'il était à plusieurs kilomètres de haut dans le ciel. Heights ne s'est jamais bien débrouillé avec moi. Quoi qu'il en soit, Doninic avait essayé de le forcer à l'esprit pendant que lui et ses amis jouissaient du temps qu'ils pouvaient passer les uns avec les autres dans l'avion. Il y avait eu plusieurs échanges de sièges. Dominic avait passé du temps avec presque tout le monde à un moment donné pendant le vol de quatre à cinq heures. Quand ils étaient arrivés à Las Vegas International, ils étaient tous souriants. Dominic avait son sourire habituel et particulier, essayant de vivre pour le moment alors que lui et Chloé sortaient main dans la main, les bras verrouillés, et à peu près semblant se joindre à la hanche. Comme ils auraient réclamé leurs bagages, leurs bagages, qui ont pris plus de temps que la préférence. Apparemment, huit personnes se rendant au même endroit, voyageant ensemble, ont produit des complications, en particulier en obtenant leurs bagages en temps opportun. En fait, cela s'est échelonné sur trois heures. Certains sacs s'étaient perdus dans le mélange, donc ils ont dû être récupérés. Mais ne craignez pas, car la foi dans le système de récupération des bagages de l'aéroport international de Las Vegas a été restaurée quand ils ont finalement pu obtenir tous leurs bagages. Et ce n'était pas plus de dix minutes qu'ils ont salué un taxi. Eh bien, pas seulement un taxi, mais environ quatre. En raison de la grande quantité de sacs et les gens qui possèdent ces sacs, ils ont dû avoir deux personnes son taxi: Chloé et Dominic en avaient un, le couple heureux de leurs frères et sœurs respectifs en partageaient un, River et Tish en ont pris un, et enfin (mais pas le moindre), Oberon et Val en avaient un. Les quatre taxis étaient en route pour l'hôtel Pink Flamingo et Cansino. Ça devrait être amusant.

"Love is our true destiny. We do not find the meaning of life by ourselves alone - we find it with another." —Thomas Merton Lost Boy by Ruth B I am just a L O S T B O Y Save me from myself Don't let me D R O W N Low on self-esteem, so you just run on G A S O L I N E N A M E Dominic Petrov Wells A G E 24 G E N D E R Male E T H N I C I T Y Polish, German, Russian, and Cuban O C C U P A T I O N Aspiring Novelist; works as an Manager of a Barnes and Noble store S E X U A L I T Y Pansexual R E L A T I O N S H I P S T A T U S Engaged to be married to Chloe Jameson E D U C A T I O N A L L E V E L Working on his Master degree for English; has a BA in Graphic Design. A P P E A R A N C E Dominic isn't really big - tall, sure - but not muscular. He's a thin man, not Slender Man-thin, but he doesn't a large assemble of muscle mass. There have been occasions where Dominic's body was called "lean", which is having the ideal fat content for whatever height someone is. Dominic has that. As tall as he is, which is two inches higher than an even 6'0, Dominic's weight isn't proportioned to make him look intimidating or fierce. He imposes a gentle appearance. When they look at him, they don't see a man that will pound them into the ground. They don't see a guy who will back down from a fight, either. Dominic imposes the kind of atmosphere that isn't either of things, yet if you push him far enough, you might be surprised. It doesn't help his case that he also has a very pale, white skintone. That doesn't mean he's albino, but when the sun meets his skin, it will boil deep red. Obviously he doesn't get out much. Dominic is very indecisive when it comes to his hairstyle. It's like he will go through a style every year. It's been like that since high school, starting at his freshmen year. He would go from short to long to longer to even longer, and then cut it to almost buzzcut-length. It has been noted by his family and his fiance that the latter was his worst yet. Still, there is no denying that Dominic has a track record of being experimental with his hairstyles. There wre even moments of him going blonde. Safe to say it didn't work out so well. Stupid college. Anyways, back on topic. Dominic's hair, now, seemed to ahve found a middle ground from his boy band-esque length and Army Buzzcut as it comes just a few inches above his neckline. The bangs are about three inches away from his eyes when they flow naturally without anything moving them. His natural hair color seems to be around a mix of auburn and some kind of hazelnut brown shade. It's really hard to pinpoint exactly what the shade of Dominic's eyes are. There have been quite a few people whom have tried to guess what they were. His parents say they are hazelnut like his hair, but Jean often told him that they seem to be more of a lax green-brown hybrid. Other times have been noted by his friends that Dominic's eyes are actually almond with a hint of chocolate brown. Even Chloe told Dominic that she was unsure what his eye color was. Most people really don't know. Dominic isn't even sure himself, so he just went with what seemed to be the general consensus of that kind of light brown, hint of almond shade. Whatever you want to say it is, there is one thing that is true: Dominic's eyes are, regardless of the lighting, what one thinks, or whatever, brown. Though, generally, Dominic's fashion sense is what is to be expected of him, there is also something quite unique about it. You see, there are two sides to Dominic's fashion style. There's the part that is conservative, traditional, and stylish; it's the side that speaks normality and presentability.This is the side that is usually made up of slacks and sweater vests and button-up shirts. This is the side that Dominic has been known to call his "formal" wear. It's the side where nothing out of the ordinary is spotted. Shirts that are of neutral colors; pants that are of presentable length; shoes that have no flashy design. This is the style of clothing that Dominic wears when he's forced to forsake all uniqueness. This is what he must resort to impress those he must, like possible future employers that will want him for a job, or his future in-laws. This is the style that looks good on him, but it is not the real Dominic Wells. The second style — the one that Dominic shows only those that he trusts; a style that has Dominic in his true element — is one that is composed of wacky colors, off-beat, totally out of the ordinary, completely opposite of conservative style. It is one that has mismatching socks, hats that are as goofy as the character they are based off of, shirts that often have some comical design, sometimes a caricature of political figures. It is a style that has pants of various makes and of various color combinations. It is a style completely his own, and Dominic owns it. He takes it by the horns like a bullrider, and commands it to walk for him and not him walk for it. Everything about it speaks the true Dominic; the Dominic that Chloe fell in love with after getting to know him; the Dominic that Jean knows, that Chloe knows, that Tish knows, that his parents know — that everyone knows. This is the style that Dominic can be himself without worry of feeling awkward and/or out of place in the clothes he wears. To put quite simply, it's where he feels most like himself. It's where he feels like the real Dominic Petrov Wells. Dominic could be the first one to admit that he was never one for having an extensive amount of piercings or body art like certain childhood friends of his; however, that doesn't mean that Dom hasn't delved into some aspects of the aforementioned body accessories. During his high school years, Dom was dared by Jean to get his ears pierced. God how it hurt. The fact that something was going to punch a hole through his year frightened him greatly, but he did it because he didn't want to give Jean the bragging rights of rubbing it in his face on how much of a coward that Dominic was. Besides, it was only two(one on each of his earlobes). Still to this day, Dominic keeps his ears pierced. He doesn't wear anything flashy - just a pair of simple pearl earrings that Chloe gave to him for his eighteenth birthday. It also just so happened that his birthday fell around when they graduated high school, so there's that too. Along with the two piercings that Dominic has, he also has a few tattoos, which is kind of funny since Dominic has a deep-rooted fear of needles. Still, he wasn't assertive enough to turn down Tish when she offered, so he just endured the pain. He didn't know what he wanted to get, so he let Tish just pick a couple for him. Of course he had to sign off on them as they would be on his body permanently. The first tattoo he got was inked onto his body when Tish was just starting her tattoo shop in 2013. This first tattoo is a Harry Potter-based one.It is the symbol of the Deathly Hallows. It has the shape of a regular triangle with a vertical line going from the corner right through the center to the bottom. Rising from the bottom is a circle stroke that surrounds the line and connects with it. Around the triangle on the left side are "I solemnly swear that". That part goes from the bottom left side to the top left in a diagonal. "I am up to no good." is the same, but it goes from top right to bottom right in a diagonal line. Both parts are written in a handwriting, This tattoo is located on the back of his neck. The second tattoo that Dominic got was as personal as personal can get. It was a tattoo he got to symbolize his love for his darling Chloe. It was a tattoo that was commissioned by his oldest - and best - friend growing up, Tish. This tattoo was a matching one he got with Chloe. Together, they are watercolor puzzle hearts. One — Chloe's tattoo — has the paint inside, and the other — Dom's tattoo — has it exploding around it. Chloe's was done on her right wrist and Dominic's was done on his left wrist. Separate, they just look like cool, moderately-flashy tatoos, but together it's clear to anyone that it's a symbol of their love. Chloe represents the control and containment of their love. She represents the quiant aspect of it while Dominic's exploding half represents the emotional, the unconditional, the absolutely, wholeheartedly, love that they share. Separate they are incomplete, but together, like Dominic and Chloe themselves, they are whole. H A B I T S | O D D I T I E S | Q U I R K S ♞ Wears mis-matching socks ♞ Non-traditional photo presence ♞ Can always be seen holding a cup of a hot beverage in his hands ♞ Refuses to step on cracks on the sidewalk ♞ Has a snork in his laugh every time H O B B I E S ♛ Reading ♛ Drinking Hot Beverages ♛ Taking walks on the beach, usually at night or around sunset/sunrise ♛ Writing down in his diary online blog ♛ Getting lost in the music he listens to L I K E S ✔ Chloe!!!! ("You will always have all of my heart. ♥") ✔ Poetry and novels(and any other form of reading) ✔ Hot beverages ✔ Anything Quirky or Unusual ✔ Food in general ✔ Music and talking about it ✔ Japanese Roleplaying Video Games ✔ Finding the hidden depths of films D I S L I K E S ✘ Needles ✘ His father's ways/expectations/judgmental attitude ✘ Heights ✘ Agression and Confrontations ✘ His melancholic mood swings ✘ Energy Drinks ✘ Indian Food(from India, not Indiana) F E A R S ☠ Chloe will leave him for someone more muscular, more attractive, more rich than he is ☠ His future mother-in-law ☠ Ending up alone. ☠ Heights ☠ Needles P E R S O N A L I T Y ♦ Benevolent ♦ Timid ♦ Placid ♦ Pensive ♦ The mind of Dominic Petrov Wells is a complex puzzle. There are mutiple turns, multiple levels, many ways where he could end up sweet, kind, compassionate, understanding, and just an all around sweet guy. There are times where the future husband of Chloe Jameson can appear confident in that non-threatening way, where he could appear like teh strongest man in the room just by the way he presents himself. No, not in the way where physical strength is the deciding factor. It's the way that really matters. It's the way where something in the eyes that exhibits a stern, subtle fiercosity that only those who truly know what he's about really know that it's the most attractive thing that Dom could do. It's the ways that, even though he doesn't have the most intimidating presence, the way he stands his grand more than makes up for it. And yet, Dominic Wells has moments where all confidence is gone as soon as a Ferrari goes 0-60mph. It lays deep within his own insecurities. These insecurities are rooted back to his childhood, back to how his father was, how he was treated in school(all of them),how everything about Dominic doesn't spell most would've thought was the fiance of Chloe Jameson. These insecurities are rooted in paranoia, hesitation, over-thinking, not sure if he is worthy of her, if she might find a better husband in the arms of someone who presented themselves in a stronger way that Dominic does. It's how that Chloe deserves someone more physically-fit than he is, more consistent displays of confidence, a reassuring attitude that won't give Chloe worries or anger. It's the way how Dominic becomes his own worst enemy. It's how he always will psyche himself out. It doesn't matter how many people say otherwise, once Dominic gets inside his own mind, once he starts to think about something in such a way that often puts him in a less-than flattering light, Dominic can't stop but think about the outrageous possible scenarios, and psyche himself out. He can't control how he has a slight paranoid mindset and over-thinks a lot of things that he really shouldn't. Existing somewhere between those two areas within Dominic's personality, there is another; less subtle and less co-dependent. It is a middle ground that has often been noted the place where Dominic has the most leeway of all sides to him. Build with layers of unpredictability and wackiness, this particular area is where the goofball in Dominic resides. In a land full of pranks and odd dosesof laughter, this is the area that was geographically formed during his college years. Well into his relationship with his Chloe, this side emerged. It brought him out, and Dominic found different sides of him. He found a love for conversation, wacky parties, illogical attire choices, and pretty much became open to indulge into anything silly, whimsical, and any combination of the two. This is where Dominic truly came out. Through all intents and purposes, this land, if made into a movie, would probably be a Tim Burton movie with Johnny Depp starring as Dominic. Often noted by several people, they have said that Dominic's mannerisms were always polite. Eyes are always up front, never do they drift from where they should be. Odd, probably, but the thing about Dominic is that he likes to make a good first impression. Even though there have been some contradictions about him, like how he has confidence but has insecurities that make him lack his confidence in himself, he still likes to at least try to make sure that he meets the eyes of whomever he's trying to impress. It doesn't matter if it's a potential employer, his future in-laws, or whatever. There will always be maximum effort from his part to at least make sure the impression made of Dominic is at least one that could be considered favorable. Even if somehow screws it up, Dominic wants to at least try his best. If he does that, then he would consider it a success. H I S T O R Y Dominic Petrov Wells was born on June 25th, 1992. His father, Conrad Tobias Wells, co-founder and co-owner of the Wells-Smith Law Firm, and his mother, Yesenia Constance Ramos-Wells, the Head of Public Relations of Wells-Smith Law Firm. Together they would raise their sons in their four bedroom Miami house in the suburbs, about twenty minutes away from the beach region of Miami. The years that followed were as bare as they could get. Dominic grew up in a nice, post house with a brother, a mother, a not-so-present father, and a few nannies that came over the years. Due to their jobs, Jean was the one who mainly looked after Dominic. Of course, there were nannies here and there, but Yesenia did do most of the raising. She tried to make sure that she raised them, showed them what the love of a mother could do. She made sure to give them all the unconditional love that she could. While attending elementary school, Dominic met an unlikely friend by the name of Patricia Webber. She was odd. He was shy. Somehow they seemed to form some kind of friendship that would carry on for the years to come. Eventually, as both Wells children grew into their late childhood, it was revealed that Yesenia was pregnant. It was a girl. The rave in the Wells household was quite high, especially with the fact that Yesenia was finally getting a daughter. Her parents were all about making the occasion as stress-free as it could be. All of the classes that she had to go to were taken care of by her mother and father, and pretty much everything that she needed, was more or less taken care of by her family. that whole year was pretty much stress-free for Yesenia - well, aside form the fact that her husband was always being difficult. His usual words weren’t helping anyone, and most believed that he knew that. In fact, some among Yesenia’s family thought he was just doing it to spite her, to spite her family, to spite their children, and to spite anyone who would have been present during his constant ramblings. Aaahh, whatever, not like Yesenia would let it bother her. She’s such a Cuban woman. It didn’t matter. Once she got into her last trimester, no one was going to say anything, especially Conrad. And especially when she was going into birth. That was a scary time. Dominic doesn’t recall it that well. He only knows of what Jean has hinted to him over the years and that the birth of their sister, Anastasia Iris Ramos — who was born on December 23rd, 1998 — was a dark time for the Wells family. Apparently Conrad became the most obedient husband for the first week. Dominic couldn’t believe it, but apparently anything was possible. And thus the years continued on. Dominic and Jean started to become men. Only two years apart they were, so they generally went to the same schools up until Dominic was in seventh grade(Anastasia at the time was just starting first). Dominic was bound to be in the same high school as his big brother by the time he was a Freshman(9th grade). At the time, Jean would have been a Junior(11th grade). And by that time, Anastasia would have been in third grade. Still very young. High school was rough for Dominic, and his home life didn’t make it any easier. If it wasn’t bad enough that the kids at school were making fun of him, he was hearing whispers that his father might be cheating on his mother. You could imagine that this made Dominic angry, but he couldn’t do nothing about it since he didn’t have any concrete proof. It wouldn’t become known until a year later when Yesenia would confirm it one day. Apparently he had been cheating on her with his partner’s fresh-out-of-high-school daughter. Her name was Alison something something. Dominic really didn’t pay attention to her name. He honestly couldn’t stand the woman. She had broken up his family by seducing his father -or maybe he seduced her. Dominic wouldn’t know nor did he care. That put a sour note on his thoughts of his father. Safe to say that not long after all that went down, Yesenia put a speeding halt on the marriage, and filed for divorce. Of course, Dominic, Jean, and Anastasia were all behind her. The divorce wasn’t finally settled until three years later, by which time a lot happened to Dominic. In those three years, Dominic had surprisingly hit it off with someone unexpected. Her name was Chloe Elizabeth Desiree Jameson. They were paired as partners for the first US History assignment of the year. Of anyone that Dominic would end up with, he never expected it would be the Head Cheerleader of Miami Beach High School. She was beautiful, smart, sociable, liked by all, loved by more, and even envied by an equal amount. Every girl wanted to be her, and every guy that Dominic knew of wanted to be with her. It didn’t make any sense for them to be together, and yet, by new years, they had shared a kiss; a kiss that Dominic initiated. It was so strange. Complete opposites they were, but somehow they fit together so perfectly. When asked about Chloe and how such an awesome woman could be with someone like him, Dominic usually shrugged. He didn’t know why either, but there was a part of him that always wondered why. He never stood out as the kind of guy that would be liked by the kind of girls that Chloe seemed to be like. She was pretty and he was average; she was sociable and he wasn’t. Everything about them couldn’t anymore opposite from each other, yet it worked. It more than worked out. If you look at how many dates they shared, including most dances of both their Junior and Senior years, including proms of both years, they obviously had something between them. Most of his insecurities would be gone by their Senior Prom as he saw her in that red prom dress that made him melt a little. Stupid he was for having those insecurities and stupid he was for thinking that she wouldn’t want to be with him. She stayed after getting to know his father and his new wife. If she could stick around after that, then maybe she was the one after all. And thus began their post-high school lives. With both of them going to the same college, they were bound to have time together, right? Nope. Dominic and Chloe would have to make sure they stuck to a plan of weekly dates. She had the study of Microbiology and Immunology, while Dominic kept to his strengths, and double majored in English Lit and Graphic Design. Somehow both were able to remain as close as they were in high school, especially when she got accepted into the Delta Gamma Sorority. Apparently she was a legacy member, which made Dominic fear the worst. Would she end up like her mother after all of that? Dominic didn’t want to think like that, but he couldn’t help it. As it turns out, Dominic was just being paranoid because the woman that he feel in love within high school was the same woman he graduated with. And when they both graduated, there was such an overwhelming feeling that came over Dominic. When he saw her in her gown, when he saw how utterly happy she was, Dominic had realized something. All of his insecurities that he had, all of those doubts that she was with the wrong man, all of those thoughts that he had that she might leave him for someone better had gone away. The one thing that he knew was that he loved her; and at their party, in front of all of their friends, in front of all of their family, in front of all of those that cared deeply about them, Dominic probably surprised everyone — including himself — by getting down on one knee, holding out his mother’s grandmother’s Diamond and White gold engagement ring. The only person that knew about this was Dominic’s mother, but that was mainly because she’s his best friend right next to Tish. Of course she said yes — well, right after she stopped crying — and he slipped it on her. When she said yes, there were cheers of happiness and support — well, except from Edith and Conrad. The former never approved of Dominic and the latter didn’t think it was anything to congratulate, not with his contempt he held for his son. Still, Dominic wouldn’t let it ruin his mood. Of course, it was much due in part that the look on Chloe’s face wouldn’t allow him to let his father ruin his big moment. Or rather, their big moment. Only a year later would they become official, because within the next 365 days, Dominic and Chloe were to bed wed, and were to be husband and wife. F A M I L Y Polish-German | Cuban | Slovac-Russian Conrad Tobias Wells | Father | 53 | Lawyer; Owner of the Wells-Smith Law Firm | Face Claim: Robert Downey Jr. Everyone knows Conrad as the giving, charible guy who always defends the weak. They know him as one-half of the Defense Dream Team on the East Side. They know him as the one guy to go to if you're in a tight bind, but they don't know the real COnrad Tobias Wells. They only know what he wants people to know. They don't know the cheating Conrad Wells; they don't know the lying Conrad Wells; they don't know the abusive, demeaning Conrad Wells.They don't know the Conrad Wells that has constantly belittled his own flesh and blood; they don't know the side of Conrad Wells ruined his family for a younger, hotter girl. The general public know nothing about the real Conrad Wells. Alison Lianna Smith-Wells | Stepmother | 29 | Trophy Wife Finacial Accountant for Wells-Smith Law Firm | Face Claim: Amber Heard Not much to say about this one. She was the one that stole Conrad away from Dominic's mother. As far as everyone is concerned, she is public enemy number one. At least, that's what Yesenia says. Yesenia Constance Ramos| Mother |48 | Head of PR for the Wells-Smith Law Firm | Face Claim: Salma Hayek Strong-willed, passionate, loving to a fault, and above all, the heart of the Ramos name. She might still carry Conrad's last name, but someone like he will not let him control what she does. She still has her position at the firm despite what he did. As far as she's concerned, half of the firm is hers. According to what she has hinted at, Conrad understands that. He doesn't question what she says or anything. He simply pretends that nothing happened - well at least in the work place. To Dominic, she is everything to him. A momma's boy for sure. He loves his mother, his mami. He doesn't care who knows. His mother is his everything - well, right next to Chloe, that is. If anything were to happen, he woldn't know what to do. A bonus is that she absolutely loves Chloe. Anastasia Iris Ramos| Younger Sister | 18 | College Student at the University of Flordia | Face Claim: Victoria Justice The feisty younger sister, Anastasia Iris "Ana" Ramos. Much like her mother and much like her father, Ana has a fire in her belly that could only be rivaled by the fires of hell. She says what she wants when she wants to. All that comes from her mouth is unfiltered. It doesn't matter if it's dirty, blunt, or whatever. If Ana thinks it, most likely she's going to say it. When it comes to her future sister-in-law, she adores her, but is kind of baffled that someone like her actually stuck around after finding out the crazy, hot mess that her family is, she questions Chloe's sanity. Maybe Chloe's own is just as crazy. Oh well. Her loss, perhaps. A N Y T H I N G E L S E Movie-wise, I am definitely looking forward to Spider-Man: Homecoming

Niall Collins Ayant juste assis un moment dans l'une des chaises nouvellement rénovées dans le petit lit un petit déjeuner que le paquet avait acheté à la lumière de l'horrible ces deux dernières années qu'ils avaient eu. Niall venait juste de mettre le dernier des meubles dans les chambres pour préparer l'endroit pour le premier couple d'invités qui arriverait dans la semaine prochaine. Le Bed & Breakfast était petit, deux histoires avec le dernier étage ayant toutes les chambres d'hôtes, 6 au total. Trois d'entre eux avaient des lits king size et les trois autres avaient deux lits grandeur nature dans chacun d'eux. Il y avait une salle de bains à chaque étage, puis il y avait une seule salle de bains, une cuisine, une salle à manger et un coin salon. La propriété elle-même, d'un peu plus de 1 000 acres, était couverte de vastes portions de forêts ainsi que de prairies. Il fonctionnait presque comme un petit petit resort, le pack avait acheté toute la petite ville qui entourait le lit et le petit déjeuner et les membres du pack "livraient" les magasins et les petites cabines derrière le lit et le petit déjeuner pour vivre et travailler. C'était vraiment un vol qu'ils avaient obtenu tout cela, il avait besoin d'une certaine réparation d'être inhabité pendant les cinq dernières années, mais cela n'avait pas été un problème pour le pack pour réparer les choses. Maintenant assis ici, tout était fixe et habitable finalement après le premier mois ici avait été passé à dormir dans la grange avec les animaux qu'ils avaient obtenu tous les petits chalets fait de sorte que tout le monde avait un endroit pour vivre et ensuite ils avaient fixé le lit et le petit déjeuner et les magasins et les petits magasins. Il pouvait enfin respirer un soupir de soulagement et se détendre un peu maintenant que tout était fait. Niall ne savait pas si c'était une bonne ou une mauvaise chose. Il a regardé par la petite fenêtre de la chambre où il était assis et a vu que le soleil commençait à se lever. Tout le monde se levait bientôt et il devait prendre le pack lors d'une chasse de célébration quand le soleil a commencé à se coucher. Ici, ils pouvaient être libres, leur propriété derrière les quelques milliers d'acres qui étaient la forêt nationale Big Horn. Il faisait un peu plus froid ici que dans leur dernière maison, mais ils allaient le faire, ils prouvant cela en ce moment.

Name: Willow Watersong Gender: Female Age: 23 Rank: Adult Female Trade: Maid/Cleaner Upright Appearance: 7.0 nose to tail, 143 pounds. Personality: Willow is extremely shy. She likes cleaning for herself and others often times because it doesn't require talking to other people. Willow does go manic sometimes, cleaning quicker and more intense. If she doesn't have anything to do in those times, she becomes very bouncy, unable to keep still. Though she doesn't like talking to people, she does love to help and comfort others and enjoys the company of others. History: Willow was given her gift from her mothers side, though her mother died at birth. It was quite a surprise to her father when he found out and he ended up throwing her out at a young age. She tracked down her mothers pack from clues left in her mothers diary and quietly blended into the pack life. She doesn't hold any grudges against her father and she threw herself into whatever was needed of her to hold what little place she had in the pack life.

Johnathan Woke sur le matelas jumeau qui a besoin de peu. Il s'est mis dans la cuve à se laver le visage et à se raser. Il s'habille de son jean marron et d'une chemise bleu jean extrêmement fanée avec des boutons bruns. À l'extérieur, il prit l'air rustique et respira l'air frais. C'était une petite communauté et il aimait tout à ce sujet, sauf la clôture. On lui expliquait pourquoi c'était nécessaire, mais il ne voyait pas au-delà du sentiment d'emprisonnement qu'il lui avait donné. Pas trop longtemps avant qu'il ait eu une course avec un ranger dans l'un des parcs. La fléchette en lui et la cage qu'il se réveilla à elle était petite et elle lui enseignait la peur des petites enceintes. Heureusement, il a été remis en liberté dans une autre partie des bois, mais il n'a pas voulu répéter l'incident. Maintenant il y avait plus de terres qu'il pouvait marquer et les loups droits n'essayaient jamais de le capturer. Il savait que ce soir, c'était la chasse et c'était une activité en ville. Ils auraient besoin de bois pour qu'il retourne à l'arbre qu'il avait coupé et qu'il l'écrase au joug pour qu'il puisse le tirer en ville. Il a enlevé sa chemise pour l'empêcher de se déchirer et l'a posée sur la bûche. Grâce à sa force intérieure, il se sentait bien. Johnathan allait avoir un peu plus de cheveux sur ses membres et sa poitrine, mais ça allait. Ses pieds nus poussèrent sur la terre et il sentit le poids bouger à chaque pas pendant qu'il le tira vers la ville. Une fois là, il serait reposé où ils auraient le feu pour célébrer la chasse plus tard ce soir. Juste quatre de ces bûches et le feu brûlerait toute la nuit. Johnathan grogne au poids et, après la dernière bûche pour le feu, il prend le baril de pluie et éclabousse de l'eau sur lui. Il a aussi pris quelques gorgées d'eau fraîche pour lui couper les mains. Il a regardé autour de lui pour voir qui était debout. Johnathan a vu la vague de Runa et l'a rendue avec l'un des siens. Son sourire n'a pas augmenté, mais pour lui c'était un bon signe. Il s'est précipité en transpirant encore des grumes, mais il avait déjà perdu les cheveux supplémentaires. -- Bonjour, je peux vous aider? Il avait vu Runa. C'était une gentille fille et un membre de la ville, ce qui lui a fait une amie à ses yeux. "De rien." Il a dit qu'il avait un sourire amical. "J'ai besoin d'aide. Je viens d'avoir le bois pour la chasse de ce soir. C'est une belle journée dehors donc j'aime faire des choses qui ont besoin de faire." Il marchait avec elle en portant ce qu'elle lui donnait comme des œufs. Se tenant debout avec le sourire chaleureux, il regarda tranquillement l'interaction de Runa avec l'enfant. Sentant le besoin de les laisser être son set les bobines de tissu vers le bas dans un endroit propre. Johnathan a dit : "S'il n'y a rien d'autre, je vous laisserai." Il s'est assuré de fermer la porte poliment pendant qu'il partait à la cuisine pour voir si quelqu'un avait besoin de son aide.

Name:Johnathen Brisby Gender: Male Age: 32 Rank: Adult male Trade: cook Upright Appearance: 5'10 200lbs Canine Appearance: 7'6 nose to tail 200lbs Personality: The pack is Johns family and that makes him care for them like family. His passion is what keeps him from being more. John Loves to cook it was his passion the same way some painted or played a particular style of music. He could take any type of food and turn it into something that made even the most unsophisticated pallet take notice. Everything he did was basic and then the seasonings would change the melody or flavor from elevator music to Phil harmonic in surround sound. This is how John spoke to people. His mood was always intense but he was focused and generally happy. With no ambition other then to cook his standing in the pack is low. He follows the alpha out of instinct and his fathers teachings, John shows the proper respect at all times. His only raw nerve is the mistreatment of animals. History: Johns parents were good, they raised him and taught him about the truth in his blood. He learned a lot from his father including his cooking ability. Having no competition as an only child John enjoyed the full attention of his parents. Being at the low end of the pack standing has alienated him from finding a mate. This lack of companionship redoubles his efforts to be a better cook. When John turned twenty a wanderlust had taken root. The tales of his experiences and the knowledge that was earned from having faced the trails of his travels give him the confidence he uses every day. He traveled for years until being found by the current pack. Extra:None

Le soleil de l'aube a laissé des traces de lumière sur le visage de Runa dans son lit. Un gémissement étouffé alors qu'elle se réveillait lentement. Un nouveau jour était là et elle avait quelques touches de finition jusqu'à sa boutique en bas dans le petit village à compléter. Le mignon petit magasin était accueillant et confortable comme sa petite cabane était et elle ne pouvait pas aider mais donner un petit sourire à la chambre vide que la vie avait été si chanceuse jusqu'à présent. Excitée d'ouvrir la boutique pour la première fois, elle a failli sauter du lit. Comme Omega personne ne lui ferait beaucoup penser, c'était presque comme être un solitaire, quelque chose que Runa serait tout aussi bien avec. Mais, la vie de meute était invitante. Même en tant que membre le plus bas. Elle aimait mieux que d'être un Alpha. Il y avait tant de règles à l'époque, mais maintenant tant qu'elle n'enfreignait pas la loi, elle était libre de faire ce qu'elle voulait. Se sentir libéré Runa a fait une petite danse heureuse alors qu'elle sortait quelques vêtements pour la journée. Rien d'extraordinaire, juste sa paire préférée de jeans et un T-shirt d'ajustement lâche dans un joli bleu royal. Le tissu bien usé et le beurre doux contre sa peau roussée pâle. Brossant ses cheveux blonds de fraise de longueur de hanche, elle l'a rapidement tressée dans son dos pour la garder hors de son visage pendant qu'elle travaillait. Il n'y a pas de compensation pour ce saucisson de loup-garou. En regardant rapidement dans le miroir de pleine longueur accroché à sa porte de salle de bains, elle a décidé qu'elle avait l'air chaude sans elle. Une brosse rapide de ses dents et d'autres matins quotidiens à faire et elle tirait sur ses bottes de paddock en cuir noir standard et elle ramassait les dernières éditions de sa collection de bobines de tissu et rebondissait sur sa porte pour une marche rapide vers le petit village. Presque incapable de contenir son sourire derrière son sang-froid habituel, elle s'installa pour un peu de pep dans son pas sa tresse oscillant au rythme de sa marche offrant une petite vague (même avec ses bras pleins de tissu) à Johnantan s'il choisit de la remarquer, il paie d'être polie et elle ne voulait pas obtenir de n'importe qui mauvais côté. Mais, ça ne ferait pas de mal d'avoir un ou deux amis. Runa a donné à Johnathan un sourire éclatant alors qu'il grouille. "Si vous voulez m'aider, je ne le détournerai pas." Elle a répondu. "C'est très gentil à vous d'offrir. Merci." La petite femelle lui renoncerait gentiment quelques bobines de tissu. "Vous êtes dehors et à peu près tôt." Elle a fait des commentaires chaleureux. Un peu de rire et elle a hurlé d'accord s'arrêtant à l'humble porte de sa petite boutique. Le panneau au-dessus de la publicité de la porte "Alterations, réparations et vêtements sur mesure". La grande fenêtre qui montre l'intérieur sombre, la silhouette de sa machine à coudre et de sa réception. Les grandes fenêtres dépourvues de rideaux mais elle avait beaucoup de tissu à choisir et de temps libre jusqu'à ce qu'elle rassemble des clients pour faire une paire. Équilibrant les bobines dans un bras, elle déverrouillait la porte et la laissait s'ouvrir vers l'intérieur s'allumer sur les lumières qu'elle entrait. Poser les bobines sur la réception pour l'instant afin qu'elle puisse prendre celles dans les bras de Johnathan. La boutique était modeste. Avec seulement deux étagères de dressage dérobées de rideaux ainsi que le miroir à trois côtés standard. Un rack en tissu dans le coin arrière était presque complètement rempli et une commode antique était pleine d'autres matériaux. Comme des rubans, des fils, des aiguilles et des modèles de vêtements. Les formes de couture étaient dans une ligne nette contre le mur arrière, les deux sexes étaient là à la fois dans les tailles adulte, petite et junior ainsi que quelques formes de taille enfant. "Ce soir, ça devrait être excitant!" Runa s'est exclamé se penchant contre le comptoir. "Une bonne chose à célébrer, c'est le réchauffement du cœur."

Name:Runa Morgan Gender: Female Age: 32 Rank: Omega Trade: Seamstress Upright Appearance: Runa stands at exactly five feet and is of a slender but womanly build at a little over 110 pounds. Canine Appearance: 34" in height, 6.5' in length at 124lbs, her eyes are the typical amber in wolf form Personality: Runa is a typical wall flower for the most part, preferring to observe rather than be observed. Though, if prompted can and will state her often jaded opinions. Despite her silent and gentle nature she has no problem with putting any one in their place if need be. Sometimes coming off as cold or snobbish to those know know little of her, but she is actually a very warm and caring person who smiles and laughs often. She has a tendency to blush often and can be shy, unless the teeth need to come out. She is demure in size, but what she lacks in strength she makes up for in agility and speed, her small size tends to lead to underestimation which can be fatal in the worst circumstances. Though if challenged she would most likely give up her position unless it was to leave the pack. History: Runa was once a pack Heir to a smaller wolf pack up north, but before she could take rule, the pack was hunted and never rejoined after scattering across the country. Being an Heir is not something she shares openly, she feels unfit for the job as Alpha and thus remains at her lower rank, though the desire to lead never really leaves her she does not act upon it. To keep her lineage a secret she keeps mostly to herself, even going so far to lie or evade speaking about her past. Her parents were named Margaret and Holland Morgan. Margaret and Holland were not killed when the pack was scattered and moved closer to the equator for retirement. Runa still keeps in contact with them, but tension keeps it from being frequent. Extra?: She enjoys being outdoors and horses had been one of her passions growing up, but she gives the Alpha a wide berth unless it is necessary.

L'arrivée de Clay Un nouvel invité Pour les dernières nuits Clay pouvait sentir la pleine lune approcher, il tire de plus en plus fort chaque nuit qui passe. Il avait cherché un terrain familier pour le voir, mais ce n'était plus trop familier. La vue inattendue apporte un grognement profond dans sa gorge lorsqu'il arrive à l'entrée avant, sa présence annoncée bien avant son arrivée par le rugissement fort de son vieux Harley restauré. Il donne le coup de pied à la marque alors qu'il l'éteint, il s'assied silencieusement en regardant l'établissement fini. Clay avait longtemps perdu une grande partie de son sens de l'odeur après un grave accident de moto qui nécessitait une reconstruction majeure du visage, mais depuis qu'il était devenu loup il avait commencé à revenir, il était juste difficile de distinguer. Quelque chose ne sentait pas ici, mais Clay n'était pas sûr de quoi. Il s'incline lui-même en rejetant la pensée, en s'emparant du sac à dos de son vélo, il le glisse sur son épaule et sa veste en cuir fin qui s'ouvre, battant dans le vent. Ses bottes lourdes marchent l'une après l'autre en s'approchant et entrent dans l'entrée du lit et du petit déjeuner, un sourire cocu sur son visage et une curieuse lueur d'excitation dans ses yeux bleu pâle. *Frappe, frappe, frappe* "Bonjour?"

Celeste Forrester-Daniels Father: Bronze Zahi Brighton Mother: Kleo Daniels Sibling/s: Tyrone Daniels Upright Appearance: At just 2 years old, Celeste looks more like a child of 3 and a half years old. Despite her aging, she is still quite small for a wolf of her age, standing at just 2'4". In her human form she weighs about 25 pounds. Celeste is very slender and petite with pale blonde hair, bright blue eyes and fair skin. Because of her fair skin Celeste tends to burn easily when exposed to too much sun. Canine Appearance: At first glance, some believe that Celeste's fur is just a pale blonde when in fact it is white in color. Her eyes are a pale blue and look gray in some lighting or when she is angry. Like her human form, her wolf form is quite small, standing at a height of 19 inches (1'5") and weighs in at 30 pounds. Gender: Female Age: 2 Rank: Pup Trade: Helper - She likes helping members if she is of use. Personality: At first glance, Celeste would seem like a bubbly child, bouncing all over the place but that couldn't be farther from the truth. To strangers Celeste would seem mute from how little she will talk. Even with people she is at ease with, Celeste doesn't speak much. She is a quiet little girl that is constantly watching those around her. She can be too curious for her own good. She is also terribly shy around most adults save for her adopted family. Not one to anger easily, once she is sent into a rage you better watch out because she won't hesitate to give you a piece of her mind. Of course afterward she will completely mortified and apologize profusely. Just as well, Celeste seems quite intelligent for her age group, even with the wolf aging process. She understands situations better than people would believe and she will stay out of peoples way if she thinks she is getting under their feet. Another trait of Celeste's is that she has very little self-preservation. as well, if she thinks someone is in trouble she will not hesitate to help. Lastly, Celeste has a bad habit of bottling up her problems. Even if she is having the worst day imaginable she will still put on a smile and insist everything is fine so she won't worry others around her. History: Celeste was born to a Beta mother in a pack that went by the name of Shadow Falls. Sadly there was little territory to go around and so her pack got into multiple disputes over land. Celeste had just turned two when her pack was attacked. Her mother managed to escape with her and Celeste to this day does not know if any other members of her pack survived. Her and her mother traveled for a few weeks before her mother grew sick. No matter how hard Celeste tried to nudge her mother up or call her name, her mother just wouldn't move. Crying, Celeste stumbled away looking for help and she was found by the Blue Ridge Pack. She was then adopted by the Beta Female, Kleo Daniels. Extra: Celeste enjoys singing, being quite good at it for one so young. Her mother also taught her how to play the piano. Celeste's favorite season is Fall and she doesn't know how to swim.

Les yeux pâles de Runa fléchissaient au son des sonnettes d'argent pour voir qui venait d'entrer dans la boutique. Ses traits se réchauffent en un doux sourire accueillant. "Bonjour petit Celeste!" Elle a dit de bouger d'une main pour que la fille puisse entrer. "C'est drôle que tu aies demandé, parce que je crois que je le fais." Runa s'est plié un peu plus pour être à un niveau d'oeil plus proche de la fille. Runa avait toujours aimé les enfants, mais n'avait toujours pas envie d'élever ses propres petits juste pour l'instant. Avec une durée de vie prolongée qui devait se précipiter? "Je ne peux pas décider de la couleur des rideaux à mettre dans la fenêtre ou pour les vestiaires. Pensez-vous que vous pourriez m'aider avec cela?" Elle a donné à Johnathan un autre sourire chaleureux et une vague d'adieu un lapin, "Merci encore!" comme il est parti.

Name:Runa Morgan Gender: Female Age: 32 Rank: Omega Trade: Seamstress Upright Appearance: Runa stands at exactly five feet and is of a slender but womanly build at a little over 110 pounds. Canine Appearance: 34" in height, 6.5' in length at 124lbs, her eyes are the typical amber in wolf form Personality: Runa is a typical wall flower for the most part, preferring to observe rather than be observed. Though, if prompted can and will state her often jaded opinions. Despite her silent and gentle nature she has no problem with putting any one in their place if need be. Sometimes coming off as cold or snobbish to those know know little of her, but she is actually a very warm and caring person who smiles and laughs often. She has a tendency to blush often and can be shy, unless the teeth need to come out. She is demure in size, but what she lacks in strength she makes up for in agility and speed, her small size tends to lead to underestimation which can be fatal in the worst circumstances. Though if challenged she would most likely give up her position unless it was to leave the pack. History: Runa was once a pack Heir to a smaller wolf pack up north, but before she could take rule, the pack was hunted and never rejoined after scattering across the country. Being an Heir is not something she shares openly, she feels unfit for the job as Alpha and thus remains at her lower rank, though the desire to lead never really leaves her she does not act upon it. To keep her lineage a secret she keeps mostly to herself, even going so far to lie or evade speaking about her past. Her parents were named Margaret and Holland Morgan. Margaret and Holland were not killed when the pack was scattered and moved closer to the equator for retirement. Runa still keeps in contact with them, but tension keeps it from being frequent. Extra?: She enjoys being outdoors and horses had been one of her passions growing up, but she gives the Alpha a wide berth unless it is necessary.

Celeste a regardé Johnathan sortir de la boutique après avoir posé le tissu vers le bas avant qu'elle ne retourne son attention à Runa. Comme le loup aîné s'agenouillait pour être plus au niveau de Celeste, l'enfant lui donnait un sourire timide. À la question de Runa sur si Celeste pouvait aider, l'enfant a hurlé. "Maman m'a laissé décorer le salon. Papa m'aiderait aussi bien qu'il me pourchassait normalement autour de la table." L'enfant a dit sans réfléchir, le sourire s'évanouissant de son visage alors que ses mots s'inscrivaient dans son esprit. Les larmes revinrent et Celeste les repoussa une fois de plus. -- Alors, qu'est-ce que je peux faire d'abord? L'enfant a demandé, forçant ses pensées tristes. Maman et papa ne voudraient pas qu'elle soit triste, ils ont toujours dit que son sourire pouvait égayer la journée de n'importe qui et c'était donc un crime de cacher ce sourire du monde.

Celeste Forrester-Daniels Father: Bronze Zahi Brighton Mother: Kleo Daniels Sibling/s: Tyrone Daniels Upright Appearance: At just 2 years old, Celeste looks more like a child of 3 and a half years old. Despite her aging, she is still quite small for a wolf of her age, standing at just 2'4". In her human form she weighs about 25 pounds. Celeste is very slender and petite with pale blonde hair, bright blue eyes and fair skin. Because of her fair skin Celeste tends to burn easily when exposed to too much sun. Canine Appearance: At first glance, some believe that Celeste's fur is just a pale blonde when in fact it is white in color. Her eyes are a pale blue and look gray in some lighting or when she is angry. Like her human form, her wolf form is quite small, standing at a height of 19 inches (1'5") and weighs in at 30 pounds. Gender: Female Age: 2 Rank: Pup Trade: Helper - She likes helping members if she is of use. Personality: At first glance, Celeste would seem like a bubbly child, bouncing all over the place but that couldn't be farther from the truth. To strangers Celeste would seem mute from how little she will talk. Even with people she is at ease with, Celeste doesn't speak much. She is a quiet little girl that is constantly watching those around her. She can be too curious for her own good. She is also terribly shy around most adults save for her adopted family. Not one to anger easily, once she is sent into a rage you better watch out because she won't hesitate to give you a piece of her mind. Of course afterward she will completely mortified and apologize profusely. Just as well, Celeste seems quite intelligent for her age group, even with the wolf aging process. She understands situations better than people would believe and she will stay out of peoples way if she thinks she is getting under their feet. Another trait of Celeste's is that she has very little self-preservation. as well, if she thinks someone is in trouble she will not hesitate to help. Lastly, Celeste has a bad habit of bottling up her problems. Even if she is having the worst day imaginable she will still put on a smile and insist everything is fine so she won't worry others around her. History: Celeste was born to a Beta mother in a pack that went by the name of Shadow Falls. Sadly there was little territory to go around and so her pack got into multiple disputes over land. Celeste had just turned two when her pack was attacked. Her mother managed to escape with her and Celeste to this day does not know if any other members of her pack survived. Her and her mother traveled for a few weeks before her mother grew sick. No matter how hard Celeste tried to nudge her mother up or call her name, her mother just wouldn't move. Crying, Celeste stumbled away looking for help and she was found by the Blue Ridge Pack. She was then adopted by the Beta Female, Kleo Daniels. Extra: Celeste enjoys singing, being quite good at it for one so young. Her mother also taught her how to play the piano. Celeste's favorite season is Fall and she doesn't know how to swim.

Runa a fait de son mieux pour cacher comment la tristesse de l'enfant a plu à ses cordes de cœur, seulement une tension à peine visible autour de ses yeux se manifesterait à travers comme elle a donné à la fille un autre sourire. "Excellent alors, vous avez beaucoup d'expérience dans ce alors. Il y a beaucoup de couleurs et de motifs à choisir et je vous fais confiance pour choisir le meilleur." En montant les bobines qu'elle avait apportées ce matin, elle a cogné la tête en direction de la grille en tissu. "Allez, mon petit." Runa remplissait les racks vides avec les bobines dans ses bras, mettant les quelques extras sur la commode qu'elle utilisait pour le rangement supplémentaire. Différentes couleurs et tissus étaient à la disposition du petit Celeste. Du blues frais aux bruns chauds. Les violettes et les roses, les verts et les jaunes même quelques oranges. Cotons, soies, lin et même quelques bobines de denim pour faire des jeans.

Name:Runa Morgan Gender: Female Age: 32 Rank: Omega Trade: Seamstress Upright Appearance: Runa stands at exactly five feet and is of a slender but womanly build at a little over 110 pounds. Canine Appearance: 34" in height, 6.5' in length at 124lbs, her eyes are the typical amber in wolf form Personality: Runa is a typical wall flower for the most part, preferring to observe rather than be observed. Though, if prompted can and will state her often jaded opinions. Despite her silent and gentle nature she has no problem with putting any one in their place if need be. Sometimes coming off as cold or snobbish to those know know little of her, but she is actually a very warm and caring person who smiles and laughs often. She has a tendency to blush often and can be shy, unless the teeth need to come out. She is demure in size, but what she lacks in strength she makes up for in agility and speed, her small size tends to lead to underestimation which can be fatal in the worst circumstances. Though if challenged she would most likely give up her position unless it was to leave the pack. History: Runa was once a pack Heir to a smaller wolf pack up north, but before she could take rule, the pack was hunted and never rejoined after scattering across the country. Being an Heir is not something she shares openly, she feels unfit for the job as Alpha and thus remains at her lower rank, though the desire to lead never really leaves her she does not act upon it. To keep her lineage a secret she keeps mostly to herself, even going so far to lie or evade speaking about her past. Her parents were named Margaret and Holland Morgan. Margaret and Holland were not killed when the pack was scattered and moved closer to the equator for retirement. Runa still keeps in contact with them, but tension keeps it from being frequent. Extra?: She enjoys being outdoors and horses had been one of her passions growing up, but she gives the Alpha a wide berth unless it is necessary.

Kleo Daniels Kléo s'était levée plus tôt le matin, juste avant le lever du soleil et avant que la plupart de ses compagnons de meute n'aient eu aussi. Ses cheveux un gâchis équitable alors qu'elle a trouvé son chemin vers un pinceau et un seau d'eau rafraîchissant avant de se tenir debout haut et à cheval des bâtiments confins. L'ambre éclatante scrute vers l'avant alors qu'elle respire profondément les parfums des nouveaux territoires. Elle avait passé la meilleure partie de sa matinée à vérifier tous les animaux dans les champs et ceux qui se trouvaient encore dans la grange, s'arrêtant pour aider d'autres convives avec tout ce qui était nécessaire avant de se retrouver maintenant en entrant dans la communauté de lycans qui revient lentement vivant. Un sourire éclatant lui déchirant le visage alors qu'elle se dirigeait vers sa cabine, son instinct lui disant que Celeste était déjà sorti et que Tyrone était plus que probablement encore morte dans le monde. Alors qu'elle s'approchait du porche en bois, elle se laissait jeter un coup d'œil, en écoutant ceux qui l'entouraient pendant qu'elle roulait les épaules et accélérait rapidement les quelques niveaux nécessaires pour entrer dans le bâtiment. "Toi? Bronze? Céleste?" Elle demanderait calmement dans des tons brouillés. Elle avait bien connu le Bronze et le petit Celeste qui avaient trouvé des choses à faire ailleurs et elle s'était approchée lentement de la seule pièce où elle savait qu'un enfant pâle dormant serait probablement encore. Alors qu'elle s'approchait de la porte de l'agape, elle soulevait un membre mince pour pousser doucement la porte assez pour que sa tête puisse regarder à travers le jeune chiot bien fatigué, je vais le laisser s'en sortir cette fois-ci, elle penserait à elle-même avant de sortir et de tirer la porte vers sa position d'origine. Même si c'est là que ça l'a frappée, quelque chose s'est senti un peu dérangé, elle avait une cabine plus près du lit et du petit déjeuner afin que les petits puissent se déplacer plus facilement et étaient toujours à portée d'audition. Les poils sur son cou se levant légèrement comme elle sentit quelque chose de différent dans l'air, pas encore conscient de ce qu'elle allait faire exactement en sortant devant la cabine et en installant des vues visibles sur le bâtiment voisin où la plupart se réuniraient pour le petit déjeuner bruyant du matin. Tyrone Daniels Grogné légèrement comme les jambes et les bras ont été jetés autour, petite tête se coiffant de cette façon et que comme forme jeune jeté et tourné à travers ce qui semblait comme des rêves incertains. Ses mouvements naturels pour que sa mère soit témoin comme il était un enfant trop imaginatif et trop avide, bien qu'il dormait beaucoup, peu importe ce qui semblait se passer autour de lui ou dans son esprit. Le mouvement de ceux qui sont dans la cabine et à l'extérieur offrant peu de changement au comportement sommeillant et l'approche de l'étranger sur le territoire causant peu de remous à ses yeux fatigués. Alors que la mère entrait une fois de plus pour le voir, il scintilleait les yeux pendant une fraction de seconde dans l'état inconscient avant de basculer et de poser sur l'estomac, le visage dans les rayons du soleil alors qu'ils pénètrent la surface des fenêtres découvertes. Même s'il ne s'éveillait pas alors que les parents sortaient pour poursuivre d'autres activités. Tyrone, pour l'instant, a continué à sommeiller, les sons de grognements ou de gémissements occasionnels émergeant la pièce alors qu'il jetait et tournait en attendant qu'une âme injuste décide qu'il était temps de se lever.

Name:Clayton 'Clay' Radshaw GenderMale Age:32 Rank:Adult Trade:Electrician/ mechanic Upright Appearance: Canine Appearance: Personality: Clay, while a bit rough-around-the-edges is pretty care free and easy going guy. He can be a little arrogant and over confident and extremely head strong and stubborn at times. He is pretty quick to resort to violence or at least threats, the strike first ask questions later type. Character flaws aside he has a generally good heart and will make sacrifices for others. Behind his arrogance he doesn't really believe he is worth dirt, often denying his own happiness believing he must suffer for mistakes of the past. He's the kind of guy that trouble is attracted too. History: Clay hasn't been part of a pack for a while, maybe even ever. The lone wolf, he never stays in one place too long, always cutting ties and moving on. The traveller.

Celeste sentit ses yeux s'élargir tandis que Runa étendit plus de tissu qu'elle ne l'avait jamais vu. On dirait que chaque couleur était là aussi bien que quelques-uns qu'elle ne connaissait pas le nom de. Et tant de jolis modèles! Il y en avait tellement, comment choisirait-elle? L'enfant se tenait là, brossant ses boucles de son visage tandis que ses yeux couraient sur tout le tissu. Très bien. Elle a tout de suite éliminé le denim. Pendant que le tissu faisait de bons vêtements, il n'avait pas de place accrochée à la fenêtre. Ensuite, ses yeux ont traversé toutes les couleurs brillantes, mais elle les a rayées de la liste. Si ça lui fait mal aux yeux de les regarder, alors ça fera probablement mal aux autres yeux. En outre, si le soleil brillait à travers le tissu lumineux, il serait trop aveuglant pour même regarder. Une main placée sur sa hanche et l'autre tapotant son menton avec attention, Celeste examina ce qui restait. Enfin, elle a pointé vers un tissu bleu bébé en coton avec des tourbillons blancs délicats qui s'enroulent à travers le tissu. "Je pense qu'on devrait être pour la fenêtre etddddd..." Elle scannait une fois de plus ses yeux sur les bobines avant de finalement pointer vers un tissu violet qui s'estompait dans un ombre blanc près du fond. "Et celui-là pour les vestiaires."

Celeste Forrester-Daniels Father: Bronze Zahi Brighton Mother: Kleo Daniels Sibling/s: Tyrone Daniels Upright Appearance: At just 2 years old, Celeste looks more like a child of 3 and a half years old. Despite her aging, she is still quite small for a wolf of her age, standing at just 2'4". In her human form she weighs about 25 pounds. Celeste is very slender and petite with pale blonde hair, bright blue eyes and fair skin. Because of her fair skin Celeste tends to burn easily when exposed to too much sun. Canine Appearance: At first glance, some believe that Celeste's fur is just a pale blonde when in fact it is white in color. Her eyes are a pale blue and look gray in some lighting or when she is angry. Like her human form, her wolf form is quite small, standing at a height of 19 inches (1'5") and weighs in at 30 pounds. Gender: Female Age: 2 Rank: Pup Trade: Helper - She likes helping members if she is of use. Personality: At first glance, Celeste would seem like a bubbly child, bouncing all over the place but that couldn't be farther from the truth. To strangers Celeste would seem mute from how little she will talk. Even with people she is at ease with, Celeste doesn't speak much. She is a quiet little girl that is constantly watching those around her. She can be too curious for her own good. She is also terribly shy around most adults save for her adopted family. Not one to anger easily, once she is sent into a rage you better watch out because she won't hesitate to give you a piece of her mind. Of course afterward she will completely mortified and apologize profusely. Just as well, Celeste seems quite intelligent for her age group, even with the wolf aging process. She understands situations better than people would believe and she will stay out of peoples way if she thinks she is getting under their feet. Another trait of Celeste's is that she has very little self-preservation. as well, if she thinks someone is in trouble she will not hesitate to help. Lastly, Celeste has a bad habit of bottling up her problems. Even if she is having the worst day imaginable she will still put on a smile and insist everything is fine so she won't worry others around her. History: Celeste was born to a Beta mother in a pack that went by the name of Shadow Falls. Sadly there was little territory to go around and so her pack got into multiple disputes over land. Celeste had just turned two when her pack was attacked. Her mother managed to escape with her and Celeste to this day does not know if any other members of her pack survived. Her and her mother traveled for a few weeks before her mother grew sick. No matter how hard Celeste tried to nudge her mother up or call her name, her mother just wouldn't move. Crying, Celeste stumbled away looking for help and she was found by the Blue Ridge Pack. She was then adopted by the Beta Female, Kleo Daniels. Extra: Celeste enjoys singing, being quite good at it for one so young. Her mother also taught her how to play the piano. Celeste's favorite season is Fall and she doesn't know how to swim.

Niall Niall était encore assis et se détendait quelques instants quand il y avait un coup distinct à la porte du lit et du petit déjeuner. Il s'est levé rapidement, sachant que quelqu'un dans la meute n'aurait pas la peine de frapper et de dire bonjour. Pendant un moment, il s'est demandé si c'était un invité qui se trompait à propos de la grande date d'ouverture de l'endroit, qui était rapidement déplacé alors qu'il se rapprochait de la porte et se rendait compte que c'était un loup, il avait entendu une moto et espérait vraiment qu'il n'aurait pas à se battre aujourd'hui. Ils avaient beaucoup rejoint le peloton ces dernières années, ses parents avaient toujours donné une chance aux gens et lui aussi. Il avait diversifié leur meute et les avait rendus forts, ils avaient été l'un des plus gros meutes aux États-Unis avant le début des meurtres. Niall s'est tiré jusqu'à sa pleine hauteur, tirant dans une profonde bouffée d'air avant d'ouvrir la porte. De l'autre côté de la porte, il y avait un homme qui avait l'air de passer la majeure partie de son temps sur la route. -- Que puis-je faire pour vous? Niall s'est bourdonné dans une voix basse. Le loup semblait juste curieux en ce moment, Niall n'a pas particulièrement le sourire coquin sur son visage mais il était assez sûr qu'il n'avait pas attendu un Alpha pour répondre à la porte du lit et du petit déjeuner bien qu'il aurait dû être en mesure de parfumer Niall. Il pouvait voir Elize hors du coin de l'œil se diriger droit pour eux, elle frappait vraiment. La plupart des loups-garous n'ont pas été construits comme elle l'était. Elle était grande et maigre avec de longues boucles épaisses de cheveux et ses yeux bleus brillaient farouchement alors qu'elle marchait vers eux juste assez vite pour faire son fouet de cheveux autour de son visage. Elle avait toujours l'air d'être au milieu de sa propre tempête. Élisez La grande bergère, tawny, lui berça les dents et s'étendit, tout en s'éveillant pleinement. Elle était réveillée depuis un moment, mais pas tout à fait au niveau qu'elle aurait dû être. Contrairement à beaucoup de la meute Elize dormait sous sa forme de loup, rien de tel qu'être non préparé et endormi. Elle avait appris il y a longtemps à ne jamais dormir sans préparation, toute sa meute avait été massacrée comme rien et elle était la seule de sa lignée de sang restante et elle n'avait pas échappé indemne. Des cicatrices jonchaient son museau blond et son visage avec ses jambes avant. Elle n'avait pas été très vieille à l'époque, seulement douze, mais elle s'était battue pour sa vie. Elle a ébranlé les souvenirs alors qu'elle retournait dans sa forme humaine, son corps se redimensionnant et se reformulant. Même dans sa forme humaine, elle était grande et bien musclée mais ses cheveux étaient sombres tandis que sa peau était un blanc glacé parsemé de taches de rousseur sur le pont de son nez et sur ses épaules. Elle a tiré sur une paire de jeans noirs qui n'allait pas sur le chemin pendant qu'elle s'occupait des animaux. Elle a glissé sa blouse au-dessus de la tête, elle est sortie de la porte. Sa cabane était la plus éloignée du lit et du petit déjeuner, mais elle avait le meilleur nez de loin de l'un des loups dans la meute. Vivre seul depuis tant d'années lui avait donné une harmonie la plupart des loups ne souhaiteraient jamais sur leur pire ennemi. Ses traits aigus sont tendus, son nez s'évase alors qu'elle change partiellement, ce qui permet au loup de lever sa grande tête assez pour aider son nez humain. Il y avait un loup ici qui n'était pas censé être, Elize a rétréci ses yeux alors qu'elle se dirigeait vers l'odeur. Elle était actuellement en bas du vent du loup étranger, mais elle a fait un itinéraire direct pour la source de l'odeur. C'était clairement un homme mais avec un paquet ici pour la soutenir, elle avait peu à craindre. Elle avait regardé la mort au visage plusieurs fois auparavant.

Name:Bronze Zahi Brighton Gender:Male Age:28 Rank:Beta Male Trade: Merchant/General Store Keeper mate:Kleo Daniels Pups:Tyrone Daniels(adopted) & Celeste Forrester-Daniels (adopted) Upright Appearance: Making a appearance of six feet and 3 inches, Bronze is heavily muscled with a few tattoo's covering his body. Canine Appearance: He is a large wolf, weighting in at 58kg with a length of 1.9m from nose to tail Personality: Bronze has a straight forward way of seeing the world. He always has a vibrant smile at hand to dissolve situations that arises, though it seemed to have dimmed somewhat due to events in his past. He takes his responsibility's seriously, keeping his word when given. He loves challenges, and follows after them with single minded purpose till said task is done. He is easy to talk to, enjoying company of others and never judging them till he has his own opinion of said person. He has a pessimistic thoughts at times, though he usually keeps it to himself. History: Bronze parents were named Jerry and Lisa Brighton. They belonged to a pack that was mostly centered in Northern Canada, roaming the very edges of Civilizations, avoiding hunters that seemed to be constantly on their trail. He never met his father, for he had been slain before he was born, through he proud of his papa, for his mama told him many tales about him and his bravery. He spent five years on the run with his pack. Through it was nightmarish, he would always treasure the time they spent together with his pack, though it didn't last, for in the sixth year his mama had been caught, never seeing her son again. After that, the pack grew smaller at a even faster rate. The last of the pack, two females and himself, aimed for the states to get away from the hunters. Somehow the hunters knew their destination, setting up a trap. The last of his pack, the two he was with, died on the border, getting him across on a train and setting him up with money and addresses that he could use to hide before kissing his cheek in goodbye as they placed him in a container smuggling him on the train bound for Denver. Years later found him still wandering around the states, passing through packs and cities, trying to find a place in this world where the hunted could find peace. He found the blue ridge pack After years of wondering. He still not sure if staying put in one place is good, but he was sick of always moving and decided with join the pack. Extra: He likes going by the nickname Zay. And he plan's on opening a bar in the future.

RÉCLAMATION La question de Niall semble tomber sur Clay. Il y avait une réaction subtile, mais un observateur passionné le remarquerait, dans ce moment fractionné de contact oculaire initial Clay tendu vers le haut, ses muscles serrés, sa mâchoire serrée et ses narines évasées. Mais qu'est-ce qu'il a senti qu'il le cachait bien comme il se penchait de façon décontractée contre la porte, ses yeux se fermant avec celui de Niall. Tout en le regardant vers le bas, il attrape une lueur d'Elize dans le regard de Niall et des torsions instinctivement pour voir ce qui s'approche. Immédiatement, son sourire se transforme en un sourire plein, alors qu'il jouit sans honte de la vue. Il se branle doucement en regardant son approche, regardant de haut en bas son corps grand et maigre, il finit par attraper la férocité dans ses yeux bleus. "Uh-oh, alors, euh c'est le tien?" Il demande la gestation au bâtiment autour d'eux mais regarde toujours Elize avec un regard prédateur. Avec ses yeux bleu pâle exhumant son charme accidenté, il court une main à travers ses cheveux le tirant en arrière en préparation de son arrivée.

Name:Clayton 'Clay' Radshaw GenderMale Age:32 Rank:Adult Trade:Electrician/ mechanic Upright Appearance: Canine Appearance: Personality: Clay, while a bit rough-around-the-edges is pretty care free and easy going guy. He can be a little arrogant and over confident and extremely head strong and stubborn at times. He is pretty quick to resort to violence or at least threats, the strike first ask questions later type. Character flaws aside he has a generally good heart and will make sacrifices for others. Behind his arrogance he doesn't really believe he is worth dirt, often denying his own happiness believing he must suffer for mistakes of the past. He's the kind of guy that trouble is attracted too. History: Clay hasn't been part of a pack for a while, maybe even ever. The lone wolf, he never stays in one place too long, always cutting ties and moving on. The traveller.

"Excellents choix, ma dame! Ils feront de beaux rideaux. Runa a dit en riant. Comme elle a commencé à rouler assez de tissu pour les rideaux. Elle avait fait toutes sortes de mesures la veille et était bien préparée. "La partie délicate maintenant est quelle couleur des fils à choisir pour le violet." Runa a expliqué alors qu'elle rassemblait d'abord le tissu bleu dans ses bras et l'a posé sur sa grande table, sur elle était assis une grande règle carrée bon pour les mesures de vêtements, mais pour l'instant une mesure de bande standard suffirait. Mais, elle a arrêté la tâche moyenne d'étendre le tissu comme un frisson a secoué sa colonne vertébrale. "Darling Celeste, je pense qu'il est temps de vous ramener à Kléo et Bronze... Ils doivent se demander où vous êtes." Elle ne voulait pas faire peur à la fille, alors elle a dit. "Je suis sûr que vous avez faim maintenant, les petits qui grandissent ont besoin de manger s'ils veulent être forts et je n'ai pas de cuisine ici pour vous nourrir." La petite blonde à la fraise Omega a collé une main en forme à la fille et lui a de nouveau donné un sourire chaleureux et accueillant.

Name:Runa Morgan Gender: Female Age: 32 Rank: Omega Trade: Seamstress Upright Appearance: Runa stands at exactly five feet and is of a slender but womanly build at a little over 110 pounds. Canine Appearance: 34" in height, 6.5' in length at 124lbs, her eyes are the typical amber in wolf form Personality: Runa is a typical wall flower for the most part, preferring to observe rather than be observed. Though, if prompted can and will state her often jaded opinions. Despite her silent and gentle nature she has no problem with putting any one in their place if need be. Sometimes coming off as cold or snobbish to those know know little of her, but she is actually a very warm and caring person who smiles and laughs often. She has a tendency to blush often and can be shy, unless the teeth need to come out. She is demure in size, but what she lacks in strength she makes up for in agility and speed, her small size tends to lead to underestimation which can be fatal in the worst circumstances. Though if challenged she would most likely give up her position unless it was to leave the pack. History: Runa was once a pack Heir to a smaller wolf pack up north, but before she could take rule, the pack was hunted and never rejoined after scattering across the country. Being an Heir is not something she shares openly, she feels unfit for the job as Alpha and thus remains at her lower rank, though the desire to lead never really leaves her she does not act upon it. To keep her lineage a secret she keeps mostly to herself, even going so far to lie or evade speaking about her past. Her parents were named Margaret and Holland Morgan. Margaret and Holland were not killed when the pack was scattered and moved closer to the equator for retirement. Runa still keeps in contact with them, but tension keeps it from being frequent. Extra?: She enjoys being outdoors and horses had been one of her passions growing up, but she gives the Alpha a wide berth unless it is necessary.

Celeste Forrester-Daniels Celeste a regardé dans la fascination que Runa a commencé à poser le tissu en préparation pour les couper. "Les fils doivent-ils être de la même couleur?" Celeste demanda curieusement, debout sur ses bouts d'orteils pour voir au-dessus du comptoir. Cependant, avant que Runa ne réponde à sa question, l'enfant a vu une course de frissons dans la colonne vertébrale du loup aîné. Celeste a incliné sa tête par curiosité. Runa avait froid? L'air a eu un certain frisson et Celeste elle-même a eu des frissons de temps en temps si elle restait dehors trop longtemps. Chez Runa, Céleste avait besoin de retourner à Kléo et Bronze, puis de commenter comment l'enfant pouvait avoir faim, l'estomac de Céleste grondait. L'enfant rougissait, regardant ses pieds comme elle hurlait. Elle s'est approchée pour prendre la main de Runa. - Oui. La marche jusqu'à la cabane n'a pas pris très longtemps et Celeste a pu sentir l'odeur de la nourriture émanant de la cuisine. Alors qu'ils se rapprochaient de la cabine, Celeste pouvait voir une figure debout à l'extérieur. Elle a reconnu la grande forme du Bronze. Elle a deviné que Kleo se réveillait peut-être à Tyrone. Celeste savait que l'autre enfant n'était pas une personne du matin et dormait aussi longtemps qu'il pouvait s'en sortir. Tout le contraire de Celeste qui était debout avec le soleil. À moins qu'elle ne se couche tard, elle ne s'est pas réveillée aussi tôt. Alors qu'ils tiraient sur le côté de Bronze, Celeste lui donna une petite vague. "Bonjour Monsieur Bronze." Celeste a dit d'une voix douce. Vu qu'elle ne l'avait été que quelques semaines, elle n'avait pas appris à connaître sa famille assez bien pour ne pas être accro aux honneurs au nom des adultes.

Celeste Forrester-Daniels Father: Bronze Zahi Brighton Mother: Kleo Daniels Sibling/s: Tyrone Daniels Upright Appearance: At just 2 years old, Celeste looks more like a child of 3 and a half years old. Despite her aging, she is still quite small for a wolf of her age, standing at just 2'4". In her human form she weighs about 25 pounds. Celeste is very slender and petite with pale blonde hair, bright blue eyes and fair skin. Because of her fair skin Celeste tends to burn easily when exposed to too much sun. Canine Appearance: At first glance, some believe that Celeste's fur is just a pale blonde when in fact it is white in color. Her eyes are a pale blue and look gray in some lighting or when she is angry. Like her human form, her wolf form is quite small, standing at a height of 19 inches (1'5") and weighs in at 30 pounds. Gender: Female Age: 2 Rank: Pup Trade: Helper - She likes helping members if she is of use. Personality: At first glance, Celeste would seem like a bubbly child, bouncing all over the place but that couldn't be farther from the truth. To strangers Celeste would seem mute from how little she will talk. Even with people she is at ease with, Celeste doesn't speak much. She is a quiet little girl that is constantly watching those around her. She can be too curious for her own good. She is also terribly shy around most adults save for her adopted family. Not one to anger easily, once she is sent into a rage you better watch out because she won't hesitate to give you a piece of her mind. Of course afterward she will completely mortified and apologize profusely. Just as well, Celeste seems quite intelligent for her age group, even with the wolf aging process. She understands situations better than people would believe and she will stay out of peoples way if she thinks she is getting under their feet. Another trait of Celeste's is that she has very little self-preservation. as well, if she thinks someone is in trouble she will not hesitate to help. Lastly, Celeste has a bad habit of bottling up her problems. Even if she is having the worst day imaginable she will still put on a smile and insist everything is fine so she won't worry others around her. History: Celeste was born to a Beta mother in a pack that went by the name of Shadow Falls. Sadly there was little territory to go around and so her pack got into multiple disputes over land. Celeste had just turned two when her pack was attacked. Her mother managed to escape with her and Celeste to this day does not know if any other members of her pack survived. Her and her mother traveled for a few weeks before her mother grew sick. No matter how hard Celeste tried to nudge her mother up or call her name, her mother just wouldn't move. Crying, Celeste stumbled away looking for help and she was found by the Blue Ridge Pack. She was then adopted by the Beta Female, Kleo Daniels. Extra: Celeste enjoys singing, being quite good at it for one so young. Her mother also taught her how to play the piano. Celeste's favorite season is Fall and she doesn't know how to swim.

Elize Vanzant Elize Vanzant n'a pas hésité de son chemin, son visage n'a pas fléchi comme l'étrange mâle la regardait. Elle pouvait facilement deviner qu'il n'était pas presque la taille de Niall, les mâles seuls avaient tendance à être vers le milieu de la taille du corps. Très rarement, ils étaient aussi grands qu'un Alpha récidivant. C'était la chose à propos des Lycans, les hommes ont grandi quand ils ont gagné le titre d'Alpha, mais il fallait déjà être assez grand pour gagner. Les hommes n'ont pas gagné seuls par les intelligents, même dans une épreuve ils n'ont pas gagné par cela. Ils devaient gagner par la force brute surtout, la taille comptait toujours. Même s'il était sans aucun doute beaucoup plus grand qu'elle, c'était la différence entre une chienne et un homme. Elle était rusée, rapide et élégante là où son gros le ralentirait considérablement. Elize avait aussi un autre tour dans sa manche, alors qu'elle s'approchait, elle ne ralentit pas. Au lieu de cela, le corps de la saule a commencé à s'enflammer violemment avant qu'elle ne se transforme entre une étape et la suivante en un grand loup blond. Il y avait un calme au sujet d'elle, ses oreilles niveau et sans intérêt et sa queue niveau avec son dos. Elle pouvait les entendre parler facilement, tout simplement sans danger conversation mais Elize n'était pas une à parler. Un lâche d'un loup solitaire était la raison pour laquelle sa propre meute était morte. Elle a fait son chemin facilement vers la paire, se déplaçant à un trot de couverture facile. Elle s'est levée sur le porche du lit et du petit déjeuner. Contrairement aux autres membres du pack Elize ne se sont pas mélangés avec les humains, elle n'est jamais allée en ville pour cette raison. Il y avait quelque chose de trop prédateur chez elle qui effrayait les humains. Quelque chose qu'ils n'arrivaient pas à mettre leur doigt. Niall Collins Niall s'est tenu détendu, ça pourrait aller très vite s'il ne gardait pas son calme. Quand le mâle a tourné les yeux vers Elize, il n'était pas particulièrement excité par cela, mais il n'y avait pas grand chose qu'il pouvait faire en ce moment. En plus, Elize aurait aussi bien pu être sauvage. Elle a seulement toléré l'existence de quelque chose d'autre que ses moutons et le bétail de la meute et c'était à peine. "Oui, nous avons acheté la propriété pour avoir un endroit à nous. Il ne sera ouvert que pendant la saison touristique au public. Tu perds ton temps là-bas. Elle peut aussi bien être sauvage, elle tolère à peine d'autres choses vivantes que ses moutons. » Il s'est bourdonné avec un peu de sourire. Il se tenait facilement dans la porte, "Est-ce que tu as besoin d'une chambre ou juste t'arrêter?" Niall a interrogé le mâle. Il n'était pas hostile à l'idée d'arriver au point derrière cette visite. Il est clair qu'Elize a fait appel à l'homme d'une certaine façon, mais il n'était pas sûr de l'intérêt qu'il avait à venir ici. Un loup solitaire n'était pas une allumette pour une meute de loups. Il serait idiot d'essayer quelque chose de sérieux pour calmer l'esprit de Niall alors qu'il se tenait debout et attendait une réponse. Il l'a hurlée quand elle est arrivée sur le porche.

Name:Bronze Zahi Brighton Gender:Male Age:28 Rank:Beta Male Trade: Merchant/General Store Keeper mate:Kleo Daniels Pups:Tyrone Daniels(adopted) & Celeste Forrester-Daniels (adopted) Upright Appearance: Making a appearance of six feet and 3 inches, Bronze is heavily muscled with a few tattoo's covering his body. Canine Appearance: He is a large wolf, weighting in at 58kg with a length of 1.9m from nose to tail Personality: Bronze has a straight forward way of seeing the world. He always has a vibrant smile at hand to dissolve situations that arises, though it seemed to have dimmed somewhat due to events in his past. He takes his responsibility's seriously, keeping his word when given. He loves challenges, and follows after them with single minded purpose till said task is done. He is easy to talk to, enjoying company of others and never judging them till he has his own opinion of said person. He has a pessimistic thoughts at times, though he usually keeps it to himself. History: Bronze parents were named Jerry and Lisa Brighton. They belonged to a pack that was mostly centered in Northern Canada, roaming the very edges of Civilizations, avoiding hunters that seemed to be constantly on their trail. He never met his father, for he had been slain before he was born, through he proud of his papa, for his mama told him many tales about him and his bravery. He spent five years on the run with his pack. Through it was nightmarish, he would always treasure the time they spent together with his pack, though it didn't last, for in the sixth year his mama had been caught, never seeing her son again. After that, the pack grew smaller at a even faster rate. The last of the pack, two females and himself, aimed for the states to get away from the hunters. Somehow the hunters knew their destination, setting up a trap. The last of his pack, the two he was with, died on the border, getting him across on a train and setting him up with money and addresses that he could use to hide before kissing his cheek in goodbye as they placed him in a container smuggling him on the train bound for Denver. Years later found him still wandering around the states, passing through packs and cities, trying to find a place in this world where the hunted could find peace. He found the blue ridge pack After years of wondering. He still not sure if staying put in one place is good, but he was sick of always moving and decided with join the pack. Extra: He likes going by the nickname Zay. And he plan's on opening a bar in the future.

Runa sourit au petit Celeste et encore au Bronze. "Merci, je vais bien. A la fois avec mon magasin et avec moi-même, bien que votre préoccupation soit très appréciée et étendue à vous. » Runa a facilement laissé Celeste aller en faveur de la laisser aller à Bronze. Le petit loup féminin d'une bonne humeur et il a montré dans son sourire plus chaud que d'habitude. Quand les plaisanteries seraient terminées, Runa donnerait à la fois Celeste et Bronze un dernier bon au revoir avant de retourner à son magasin pour travailler le reste de sa journée. Les rideaux n'ont pas fait eux-mêmes!

Name:Runa Morgan Gender: Female Age: 32 Rank: Omega Trade: Seamstress Upright Appearance: Runa stands at exactly five feet and is of a slender but womanly build at a little over 110 pounds. Canine Appearance: 34" in height, 6.5' in length at 124lbs, her eyes are the typical amber in wolf form Personality: Runa is a typical wall flower for the most part, preferring to observe rather than be observed. Though, if prompted can and will state her often jaded opinions. Despite her silent and gentle nature she has no problem with putting any one in their place if need be. Sometimes coming off as cold or snobbish to those know know little of her, but she is actually a very warm and caring person who smiles and laughs often. She has a tendency to blush often and can be shy, unless the teeth need to come out. She is demure in size, but what she lacks in strength she makes up for in agility and speed, her small size tends to lead to underestimation which can be fatal in the worst circumstances. Though if challenged she would most likely give up her position unless it was to leave the pack. History: Runa was once a pack Heir to a smaller wolf pack up north, but before she could take rule, the pack was hunted and never rejoined after scattering across the country. Being an Heir is not something she shares openly, she feels unfit for the job as Alpha and thus remains at her lower rank, though the desire to lead never really leaves her she does not act upon it. To keep her lineage a secret she keeps mostly to herself, even going so far to lie or evade speaking about her past. Her parents were named Margaret and Holland Morgan. Margaret and Holland were not killed when the pack was scattered and moved closer to the equator for retirement. Runa still keeps in contact with them, but tension keeps it from being frequent. Extra?: She enjoys being outdoors and horses had been one of her passions growing up, but she gives the Alpha a wide berth unless it is necessary.

Niall Collins Niall n'était pas du tout une expression faciale, même si quelqu'un qui le connaissait assez bien aurait pu voir la lueur du rire dans ses yeux. Ce gamin sait qu'on peut tous dire que c'est un loup. Il pensait qu'il regardait attentivement ce nouvel étranger. Elize était impressionnante, mais elle venait d'être si proche de la bête qui était dans son cœur. D'après ce qu'il avait assemblé au fil des ans, elle avait vécu exclusivement dans sa forme lupine pendant près de cinq ans avant de faire partie de leur paquet. Même maintenant, elle a probablement passé près de 90 pour cent de son temps dans sa fourrure plutôt que dans sa peau. "Elize ne rentre pas, elle n'aime pas les murs. Je vous ai dit qu'elle était surtout lupine, plus que beaucoup d'entre nous, moi y compris." Il a parlé de fait, se contentant de dire la vérité. Bien qu'il n'ait pas été amusé par les commentaires il y avait peu de choses qu'il pouvait faire en ce moment, si Elize s'en était remis, elle aurait probablement déjà été à sa gorge alors il l'a laissé tranquille. Il s'est légèrement agité après avoir parlé, se déplaçant hors de la porte et vers une petite pièce juste le long de l'intérieur du mur où il a déverrouillé et a ouvert la petite boîte où ils ont gardé les clés de la chambre pour en récupérer une pour une chambre avec un lit simple. En raison de sa taille extrême, Niall a été forcé de se vider la tête pour entrer dans la petite pièce et en sortir. Il a balancé la porte et l'a verrouillée avant de revenir à l'endroit où Clay se tenait. Il a offert la clé de la chambre à l'autre homme alors qu'il parlait, "Dernière chambre à gauche en haut de ces escaliers." Il fit un geste vers l'escalier à l'arrière de la salle de salon : « Il faudrait plus qu'une porte approuvée de loup-garou pour la mettre à l'intérieur. » Elize Vanzant Elize a barré une bouche pleine de dents blanches qui contrastait fortement avec la peau noire de ses gencives alors qu'elle émettait ce qui ne pouvait être décrit que comme un snicker quand elle a très clairement effrayé le mâle. La Lune sait qu'elle avait effrayé des gens et même tué avant, mais cela avait été beaucoup trop facile pour qu'elle regarde. Il y avait juste quelque chose qui n'allait pas à propos d'un homme qui avait peur d'une salope dans sa fourrure. Elle n'avait été farouchement admirée que quelques instants auparavant, mais maintenant il n'était pas très désireux de la regarder. La plupart des salopes n'étaient pas couvertes de cicatrices comme elle était mais elle avait été admirée pour sa couleur de manteau exotique et ses yeux dorés depuis qu'elle était enfant. Ils avaient fauché sur elle et les hommes l'avaient livrée avec des cadeaux et elle avait été une pièce de jeu très puissante, surtout à mesure qu'elle vieillissait. Sa taille pour une femelle n'était pas quelque chose d'inhabituel ici, Kleo était autour de la même taille, mais ils étaient tous les deux sur le plus grand bout du spectre pour les chiennes. À la différence de Kleo, cependant, le visage, la poitrine et les jambes avant d'Elize étaient recouverts de cicatrices grises chatoyantes et de lignes de cheveux blancs où des cicatrices se trouvaient sous son épais manteau fauve. Une ligne de peau noire nue a bordé ses yeux dorés, les faisant ressortir et se transformant en un humain qu'elle gardait. Son corps vibrait facilement mais se déplaçait plus lentement cette fois-ci, ce qui permettait d'observer complètement le processus pendant qu'elle stockait le loup, sauf les parties de celui-ci qu'elle permettait de rester à la surface. Elle a donné à Clay un grand sourire rempli de dents qui n'appartenaient pas là tout en le regardant avec des yeux dorés brillants, "Peut-être qu'il peut rejoindre notre chasse célébratoire ce soir, Niall. La lune n'est pas encore pleine, mais nous avons assez d'espace pour jouer ici." Sa voix soprano élevée sonnait facilement alors qu'elle repoussait le dernier loup, les yeux s'affaissant vers un bleu lumineux. Comme toujours si son loup se trouvait à peine en dessous de la surface, toujours éveillé et en attente.

Name:Clayton 'Clay' Radshaw GenderMale Age:32 Rank:Adult Trade:Electrician/ mechanic Upright Appearance: Canine Appearance: Personality: Clay, while a bit rough-around-the-edges is pretty care free and easy going guy. He can be a little arrogant and over confident and extremely head strong and stubborn at times. He is pretty quick to resort to violence or at least threats, the strike first ask questions later type. Character flaws aside he has a generally good heart and will make sacrifices for others. Behind his arrogance he doesn't really believe he is worth dirt, often denying his own happiness believing he must suffer for mistakes of the past. He's the kind of guy that trouble is attracted too. History: Clay hasn't been part of a pack for a while, maybe even ever. The lone wolf, he never stays in one place too long, always cutting ties and moving on. The traveller.

Saule Willow a fini de s'occuper de son jardin, elle s'est retirée pour admirer son travail et est retournée à l'intérieur, assis à son métier. Elle a commencé à faire un tapis, le bar se cassant et ses doigts volant à travers les ficelles. Le snapping devient le seul son dans la maison et elle continue tout simplement à faire des couches, des couches et des couches, pas vraiment sûr que faire d'autre avec elle-même dans ce nouvel endroit, n'ayant vraiment vu personne ces derniers temps. "Peut-être que cela pourrait aller dans l'une des pièces." Elle murmura alors qu'elle fabriquait des dessins élaborés dans le tapis.

Name: Willow Watersong Gender: Female Age: 23 Rank: Adult Female Trade: Maid/Cleaner Upright Appearance: 7.0 nose to tail, 143 pounds. Personality: Willow is extremely shy. She likes cleaning for herself and others often times because it doesn't require talking to other people. Willow does go manic sometimes, cleaning quicker and more intense. If she doesn't have anything to do in those times, she becomes very bouncy, unable to keep still. Though she doesn't like talking to people, she does love to help and comfort others and enjoys the company of others. History: Willow was given her gift from her mothers side, though her mother died at birth. It was quite a surprise to her father when he found out and he ended up throwing her out at a young age. She tracked down her mothers pack from clues left in her mothers diary and quietly blended into the pack life. She doesn't hold any grudges against her father and she threw herself into whatever was needed of her to hold what little place she had in the pack life.

Le chant de l'eau de saule Le claquage s'est finalement arrêté alors qu'elle terminait le tapis élaboré. Elle l'a sorti du métier et l'a posé sur le sol, réparant les petites erreurs avec des mouvements rapides et exacts. Ce serait parfait pour une des chambres. Willow pensait alors qu'elle retenait le produit fini et auto-approuvé, Personne ne séjournant encore, donc il ne devrait pas y avoir de problème à juste entrer et de le placer dans une pièce. Elle enfila le tapis dans ses bras comme elle le pouvait et sortit, fermant la porte derrière elle avec beaucoup de difficulté. Elle a décidé qu'il n'en valait pas la peine de l'enfermer, alors elle s'est simplement promène avec confiance vers le lit et le petit déjeuner. Elle s'est glissée tranquillement, non pas qu'elle essayait de se faufiler, ou quoi que ce soit, mais elle a toujours ressenti le besoin d'être silencieuse. En haut de l'escalier, elle est allée dans la pièce la plus improbable qu'elle ait pu imaginer... la dernière pièce à gauche. La porte était légèrement cassée, mais elle n'en pensait rien en entrant et avec un mouvement de fouet, elle a posé le tapis sur le sol, pas une fois s'arrêtant pour remarquer Clay.

Name: Willow Watersong Gender: Female Age: 23 Rank: Adult Female Trade: Maid/Cleaner Upright Appearance: 7.0 nose to tail, 143 pounds. Personality: Willow is extremely shy. She likes cleaning for herself and others often times because it doesn't require talking to other people. Willow does go manic sometimes, cleaning quicker and more intense. If she doesn't have anything to do in those times, she becomes very bouncy, unable to keep still. Though she doesn't like talking to people, she does love to help and comfort others and enjoys the company of others. History: Willow was given her gift from her mothers side, though her mother died at birth. It was quite a surprise to her father when he found out and he ended up throwing her out at a young age. She tracked down her mothers pack from clues left in her mothers diary and quietly blended into the pack life. She doesn't hold any grudges against her father and she threw herself into whatever was needed of her to hold what little place she had in the pack life.

Il n'y avait pas deux façons, Clay était sur le bord. Cet endroit, ces lycans, la pleine lune proche, les nuits sans sommeil et les cauchemars sans fin... Il était prêt à craquer. D'abord une odeur faible a atteint ses narines réveillant l'anxiété, un ruisseau dans le sol a suscité son attention et puis le flou soudain des ombres l'a jeté en mode survie! En un instant, il a tiré, assis debout dans le lit, son bras vient furieusement fouetter autour de Willow. Lorsqu'il s'arrête soudain devant elle, il y a un fort « clic » alors qu'il appuie sur le marteau métallique d'un grand « forgeron et wesson » en acier noir.44 revolver magnum dirigé droit sur sa tête. L'odeur de l'argent alchimique même perceptible à son propre sens cassé de l'odeur. "Que fais-tu ici?" Il grogne furieusement. Ses yeux trainent autour du reste de la pièce alors qu'il essaie de clignoter le sommeil loin.

Name: Willow Watersong Gender: Female Age: 23 Rank: Adult Female Trade: Maid/Cleaner Upright Appearance: 7.0 nose to tail, 143 pounds. Personality: Willow is extremely shy. She likes cleaning for herself and others often times because it doesn't require talking to other people. Willow does go manic sometimes, cleaning quicker and more intense. If she doesn't have anything to do in those times, she becomes very bouncy, unable to keep still. Though she doesn't like talking to people, she does love to help and comfort others and enjoys the company of others. History: Willow was given her gift from her mothers side, though her mother died at birth. It was quite a surprise to her father when he found out and he ended up throwing her out at a young age. She tracked down her mothers pack from clues left in her mothers diary and quietly blended into the pack life. She doesn't hold any grudges against her father and she threw herself into whatever was needed of her to hold what little place she had in the pack life.

Le chant de l'eau de saule "Je ne pensais pas qu'il y avait quelqu'un ici." Willow répondit, se souciant de ne faire aucun mouvement qui pourrait l'énerver. Elle se tint tranquillement et calmement, sa tête s'évanouissait légèrement dans sa soumission, "Je m'excuse de vous déranger, monsieur." En effet, elle avait l'air assez triste, ses muscles de la mâchoire serrés montrant qu'elle n'était pas aussi calme qu'elle essayait de regarder. Willow se retourna lentement, consciente du revolver pointé sur sa tête, elle marcha lentement et délibérément jusqu'à la porte.

Name: Willow Watersong Gender: Female Age: 23 Rank: Adult Female Trade: Maid/Cleaner Upright Appearance: 7.0 nose to tail, 143 pounds. Personality: Willow is extremely shy. She likes cleaning for herself and others often times because it doesn't require talking to other people. Willow does go manic sometimes, cleaning quicker and more intense. If she doesn't have anything to do in those times, she becomes very bouncy, unable to keep still. Though she doesn't like talking to people, she does love to help and comfort others and enjoys the company of others. History: Willow was given her gift from her mothers side, though her mother died at birth. It was quite a surprise to her father when he found out and he ended up throwing her out at a young age. She tracked down her mothers pack from clues left in her mothers diary and quietly blended into the pack life. She doesn't hold any grudges against her father and she threw herself into whatever was needed of her to hold what little place she had in the pack life.

Avec un soupir lourd Clay se jette dans son oreiller et le lit crique sous son poids alors qu'il rebondit légèrement. Avec un bâillon fort, il plie les deux mains et l'arme derrière sa tête et sous son oreiller. "Hé, écoute, je suis désolé, c'est bon tu n'as pas besoin de te faufiler. Mais ne refais pas ça bien!" Clay dit calmement et doucement qu'il s'incline la tête pour regarder latéralement l'intrus. "Alors, quel est ton nom et que fais-tu ici?" Clay demande un sourire amical.

Name: Willow Watersong Gender: Female Age: 23 Rank: Adult Female Trade: Maid/Cleaner Upright Appearance: 7.0 nose to tail, 143 pounds. Personality: Willow is extremely shy. She likes cleaning for herself and others often times because it doesn't require talking to other people. Willow does go manic sometimes, cleaning quicker and more intense. If she doesn't have anything to do in those times, she becomes very bouncy, unable to keep still. Though she doesn't like talking to people, she does love to help and comfort others and enjoys the company of others. History: Willow was given her gift from her mothers side, though her mother died at birth. It was quite a surprise to her father when he found out and he ended up throwing her out at a young age. She tracked down her mothers pack from clues left in her mothers diary and quietly blended into the pack life. She doesn't hold any grudges against her father and she threw herself into whatever was needed of her to hold what little place she had in the pack life.

Clay s'assied un peu, les mains toujours derrière sa tête alors qu'il culmine au tapis sur le sol. "Ah bien" dit-il tomber dans le lit. "Willow hey." Il dit, tester son nom sur sa propre langue. "Les noms de Clay, ravi de vous rencontrer. Désolé pour tout à l'heure." "Alors" commence-t-il, le mot traîne alors qu'il pense comment continuer, "etes-vous comme les deux autres en bas?" Il finit par sortir et demander.

Name:Clayton 'Clay' Radshaw GenderMale Age:32 Rank:Adult Trade:Electrician/ mechanic Upright Appearance: Canine Appearance: Personality: Clay, while a bit rough-around-the-edges is pretty care free and easy going guy. He can be a little arrogant and over confident and extremely head strong and stubborn at times. He is pretty quick to resort to violence or at least threats, the strike first ask questions later type. Character flaws aside he has a generally good heart and will make sacrifices for others. Behind his arrogance he doesn't really believe he is worth dirt, often denying his own happiness believing he must suffer for mistakes of the past. He's the kind of guy that trouble is attracted too. History: Clay hasn't been part of a pack for a while, maybe even ever. The lone wolf, he never stays in one place too long, always cutting ties and moving on. The traveller.

Bronze traqué le départ de Runa, marquant son chemin et direction Bronze tourné vers l'aire de stationnement qui était en face du lit et du petit déjeuner, en voyant s'il pouvait obtenir un aperçu du propriétaire du Harley garé là. Il l'avait entendu plus tôt, mais c'était sa première fois en fait obtenir une vue de la plaque d'immatriculation. Répétant la ligne de nombres et de lettres, il l'engagea à la mémoire. Il n'a jamais fait de mal, il s'aperçoit comme un faible grondement émis par son estomac. Brisant sa concentration sur l'arpentage du vélo et de la région environnante pour le propriétaire, il jette un coup d'œil au Celeste "Wonder whats pour le petit déjeuner ce matin" il lui demanda d'une voix stupéfiante, baissant légèrement aux coins de sa bouche. Il aimait manger, il a trouvé très satisfaisant d'avoir un ventre plein. Au cours d'une chasse ou d'un repas à table, il ne refuserait jamais un repas. Il devrait parler à John du menu à l'avenir. En entendant un mouvement de côté, le timing ne pourrait pas être meilleur pour Bronze. Son estomac lui disait qu'il ne se sentait pas aimé, puisque le dos a eu un massage, il devrait se masser lui-même. Et il savait comment le frotter de la bonne façon. Se tournant vers Kleo avec un énorme sourire sur son visage à ses mots, il agenouillait et avec des mouvements sûrs ramassait Celeste dans ses bras, la tenant dans l'escroc de son bras comme une poupée de porcelaine exquise faite et agitant à Tyrone avec l'autre main. "Nous savons tous pourquoi nous sommes réunis ici aujourd'hui, allons chercher cette nourriture" Comme ces mots sont sortis de sa bouche, il penserait à ce moment et grimace dans l'agonie sur de tels mots dans les jours à venir. Pour sortir de l'arrière du lit et du petit déjeuner strode Niall. Il avait un regard sérieux en ce moment. Avec un regard quizique sur le Cycle, il l'a tourné vers Niall en marchant vers la Cabine. En entendant les paroles de Niall, sans changer d'expression, Bronze sentit son estomac se serrer légèrement dans l'agonie car il savait que ses désirs auraient mis en attente. Avec un renifle de l'odeur tentante venant de la cuisine, Il placait son estomac avec l'arôme flotte autour de lui, promettant qu'il obtiendra son remplissage en temps voulu. "Quelle est la situation? Le motard se perd ou quelque chose de Niall?" Il a demandé.

Name:Bronze Zahi Brighton Gender:Male Age:28 Rank:Beta Male Trade: Merchant/General Store Keeper mate:Kleo Daniels Pups:Tyrone Daniels(adopted) & Celeste Forrester-Daniels (adopted) Upright Appearance: Making a appearance of six feet and 3 inches, Bronze is heavily muscled with a few tattoo's covering his body. Canine Appearance: He is a large wolf, weighting in at 58kg with a length of 1.9m from nose to tail Personality: Bronze has a straight forward way of seeing the world. He always has a vibrant smile at hand to dissolve situations that arises, though it seemed to have dimmed somewhat due to events in his past. He takes his responsibility's seriously, keeping his word when given. He loves challenges, and follows after them with single minded purpose till said task is done. He is easy to talk to, enjoying company of others and never judging them till he has his own opinion of said person. He has a pessimistic thoughts at times, though he usually keeps it to himself. History: Bronze parents were named Jerry and Lisa Brighton. They belonged to a pack that was mostly centered in Northern Canada, roaming the very edges of Civilizations, avoiding hunters that seemed to be constantly on their trail. He never met his father, for he had been slain before he was born, through he proud of his papa, for his mama told him many tales about him and his bravery. He spent five years on the run with his pack. Through it was nightmarish, he would always treasure the time they spent together with his pack, though it didn't last, for in the sixth year his mama had been caught, never seeing her son again. After that, the pack grew smaller at a even faster rate. The last of the pack, two females and himself, aimed for the states to get away from the hunters. Somehow the hunters knew their destination, setting up a trap. The last of his pack, the two he was with, died on the border, getting him across on a train and setting him up with money and addresses that he could use to hide before kissing his cheek in goodbye as they placed him in a container smuggling him on the train bound for Denver. Years later found him still wandering around the states, passing through packs and cities, trying to find a place in this world where the hunted could find peace. He found the blue ridge pack After years of wondering. He still not sure if staying put in one place is good, but he was sick of always moving and decided with join the pack. Extra: He likes going by the nickname Zay. And he plan's on opening a bar in the future.

RÉCLAMATION ET WILLOW Willow incline sa tête, confuse, « comment veux-tu dire que je suis comme les autres? » Elle demande. L'argile chuckles en réponse. Il n'était pas sûr de savoir comment le demander. Il détestait toujours dire les mots à haute voix. Toujours coincé dans une sorte de déni. En regardant le toit, après un autre soupir profond, il utilise un ton de plaisanterie pour faire sortir la question. "Est-ce que tu te sépares aussi du loup? Tout le monde est là? Willow s'assied dans une chaise qui était dans le coin, tirant ses genoux vers le haut, seulement pour la première fois voyant qu'elle était pieds nus, "Oh. Elle commence à bégayer, à se jeter la tête une fois de plus, à ne pas répondre à la deuxième partie de la question. Clay grogne, mais il n'est pas en colère, au lieu d'être attristé. "Bonne fille!" Il appelle quand il s'écrase pour la voir correctement. Avec ses abdominaux sous la pression de son haut du torse et ses bras étirés à l'écart de sa tête, ses muscles et son puissant physique rehaussé de lupine étaient clairement définis et visibles. Il baisse les mains en tournant et met ses pieds sur le sol. Maintenant assis au bord du lit face à l'intrus, il porte une main sur son visage puis prend une seconde pour la regarder avant de continuer. « Quand je vois quelqu'un comme vous, ça me rend triste, ça me fait me demander ce qui pourrait être si mal que quelqu'un d'aussi beau », s'arrête et regarde le tapis « et talentueux, car vous pourriez perdre confiance en elle-même. » Quelles difficultés vous ont privé de votre nature insouciante? Pourquoi quelqu'un d'aussi innocent que vous-même devrait-il connaître l'inquiétude et la peur?" Il secoue la tête lentement, puis s'en remet soudainement, remuant l'émotion dans sa voix alors que sa main pointe vers la porte. "C'est ces gars là-bas!" Il demande, voix légèrement relevée. Il ne l'admettrait pas, mais l'idée de Niall "en fait" méritant une raclée ou de pouvoir être qualifié de "mauvais gars" rendait Clay heureux. Willow a l'air extrêmement surpris, « oh non non non... » dit-elle, essayant de le calmer, « non, ce sont des gens bien. » "Bon" Clay répond rapidement un peu relaxant bien qu'au fond il y ait eu une petite croûte tordue de déception. Willow regarde ses orteils, "J'ai toujours été comme ça," elle glousse. Son rire a fait sourire Clay. "Je n'ai pas l'habitude des autres." Elle a continué en étudiant Clay de derrière ses cheveux, son nez secouant légèrement, "De toute façon, qu'est-ce qui vous amène ici..?" "Ah, ne me dérange pas, juste ici pendant quelques jours, en passant." Clay répond tout en s'étirant, pas vraiment répondre à quoi que ce soit. Dis, qu'est-ce qu'il y a à faire par ici? Qu'est-ce que tu vas faire aujourd'hui?" Il demande à Willow pendant qu'il se lève et commence à trier dans son sac, jetant quelques vêtements sur le lit et mettant des objets dans sa salle de bain. Willow shrugs, "Je ne sais pas.. Je n'avais pas vraiment d'autres projets que de m'assurer que toutes les chambres étaient en ordre », a dit Willow en le regardant silencieusement, pendant qu'il se déplaçait, encore incertain de lui en général. De la salle de bain le robinet d'évier sonne, Clay appelle une réponse étouffée avec une bouche pleine de dentifrice et de brosse à dents, "so oo oo you et payed foh dis?" Le robinet sonne encore et peu de temps après il rentre dans la pièce, sans chemise et essuyant son visage avec un chiffon humide. Il fouille dans ses vêtements un moment avant de ramasser un petit objet noir, le regardant un instant, il l'a réalisé comme sa balaclava noire avec un imprimé blanc du crâne, il le jette rapidement dans le sac. Il trouve ensuite une chemise noire serrée et la glisse sur sa tête. En ramassant une pile de notes roulées, il les bourre dans sa poche arrière. "Vous voulez bien me faire visiter? J'ai besoin de prendre quelques choses." il demande occasionnellement. Willow ne répond pas à la première question, espérant qu'il pensera juste qu'elle n'a pas entendu, et se leva une fois qu'il lui a demandé de lui montrer : « Je-je pense que vous trouverez quelqu'un d'autre mieux adapté à cela.. » elle commence, se blottis les pouces ensemble, « Je ne sais vraiment que ici et ma maison. » Clay arrête ce qu'il faisait et lui donne un regard vide. "Huh, assez bien." Son ton dit qu'il ne la croit pas mais l'accepte de toute façon. Ils sont juste des étrangers après tout et il a récemment pointé une arme sur sa tête. Bien qu'il y ait quelque chose à propos de Willow, cette jeune fille, qui lui a rappelé quelqu'un qu'il avait perdu il y a longtemps, ce n'était pas sa personnalité timide, donc ça devait être l'apparence. Mais c'était il y a si longtemps que Clay ne pouvait pas être sûr qu'il y avait une ressemblance ou que sa culpabilité lui créait subconsciemment son esprit. Il se frotte à travers son sac une dernière fois et comme un coin s'écroule accidentellement, il révèle une réserve de factures différentes, il avait beaucoup d'argent suspect. Il enlève un couteau papillon brillant et le glisse dans sa poche arrière avant de sceller rapidement le sac et de retourner à la fille. Il se tient juste là à la regarder avec un sourire en attendant patiemment dans un silence maladroit. Willow rompt le moment maladroit et s'incline à la hâte, et sort de la pièce, laissant tomber une montre pour un autre tapis sur le sol.

Name:Clayton 'Clay' Radshaw GenderMale Age:32 Rank:Adult Trade:Electrician/ mechanic Upright Appearance: Canine Appearance: Personality: Clay, while a bit rough-around-the-edges is pretty care free and easy going guy. He can be a little arrogant and over confident and extremely head strong and stubborn at times. He is pretty quick to resort to violence or at least threats, the strike first ask questions later type. Character flaws aside he has a generally good heart and will make sacrifices for others. Behind his arrogance he doesn't really believe he is worth dirt, often denying his own happiness believing he must suffer for mistakes of the past. He's the kind of guy that trouble is attracted too. History: Clay hasn't been part of a pack for a while, maybe even ever. The lone wolf, he never stays in one place too long, always cutting ties and moving on. The traveller.

Clayton Clay a attendu un moment pour permettre à Willow d'avoir une distance sonore avant de quitter la pièce, il a senti qu'il avait rendu les choses gênantes et essayait de l'éviter et les souvenirs qu'elle lui a apporté pendant un moment. Sortir de l'arrière du lit et du petit-déjeuner, il a évité toute autre personne où il pouvait. Notant Nialle, il a attendu qu'il soit entré dans la pièce avant de continuer. Une fois à l'extérieur, Clay se promena dans la rue comme s'il était sur un terrain familier, chaque étape délibérée, délibérée et répétée l'amenant à destination comme s'il savait où il allait. Il y avait un soupçon de perte d'admiration dans l'œil alors qu'il regardait autour de lui l'environnement de passage, en voyant ce qui est et ce qui était. Peu de temps après, il s'est retrouvé devant un magasin de vêtements. Quelque chose de comique apporte un sourire sur ses lèvres alors qu'il se gratte la tête en regardant par la fenêtre. Le regard de la fenêtre n'était pas suffisant, Clay s'en va bientôt à l'intérieur, sa marche décontractée le ramenant directement devant Ayla qu'il ne semblait pas remarquer, en fait il ne semblait pas remarquer beaucoup car ce n'était pas le tissu ou les vêtements qu'il regardait mais la structure de la pièce elle-même.

Name:Runa Morgan Gender: Female Age: 32 Rank: Omega Trade: Seamstress Upright Appearance: Runa stands at exactly five feet and is of a slender but womanly build at a little over 110 pounds. Canine Appearance: 34" in height, 6.5' in length at 124lbs, her eyes are the typical amber in wolf form Personality: Runa is a typical wall flower for the most part, preferring to observe rather than be observed. Though, if prompted can and will state her often jaded opinions. Despite her silent and gentle nature she has no problem with putting any one in their place if need be. Sometimes coming off as cold or snobbish to those know know little of her, but she is actually a very warm and caring person who smiles and laughs often. She has a tendency to blush often and can be shy, unless the teeth need to come out. She is demure in size, but what she lacks in strength she makes up for in agility and speed, her small size tends to lead to underestimation which can be fatal in the worst circumstances. Though if challenged she would most likely give up her position unless it was to leave the pack. History: Runa was once a pack Heir to a smaller wolf pack up north, but before she could take rule, the pack was hunted and never rejoined after scattering across the country. Being an Heir is not something she shares openly, she feels unfit for the job as Alpha and thus remains at her lower rank, though the desire to lead never really leaves her she does not act upon it. To keep her lineage a secret she keeps mostly to herself, even going so far to lie or evade speaking about her past. Her parents were named Margaret and Holland Morgan. Margaret and Holland were not killed when the pack was scattered and moved closer to the equator for retirement. Runa still keeps in contact with them, but tension keeps it from being frequent. Extra?: She enjoys being outdoors and horses had been one of her passions growing up, but she gives the Alpha a wide berth unless it is necessary.

Niall Collins Niall chucked légèrement à Tyrone alors qu'il rebondissait autour de vouloir de la nourriture. Malheureusement, il aurait dû attendre un moment et donc Niall a retourné son attention à Kléo et Bronze, "Nous avons un petit problème gênant. Il y a un autre loup ici, un errant. Il n'est certainement pas en contact avec son loup. Il a une arme avec des balles d'argent, ça ne devrait pas être mortel, mais je ne veux pas que les chiots s'approchent de lui. Il est complètement trop volatil. Je vous aiderai à ramener le petit déjeuner et vous pourrez manger ici aujourd'hui. Il ne fait que passer à travers je crois." Son grand corps a donné un huff comme il a fini son petit peu. Inquiet a creasé son large front alors qu'il courait une main à travers ses cheveux foncés épais. Il n'y avait pas grand-chose qu'il pouvait faire en ce moment, les adultes pouvaient prendre soin d'eux-mêmes mais il voulait garder les petits hors de danger si possible. Ils ne correspondaient pas à un loup adulte, surtout à un loup qui ne se battait même pas dans sa fourrure. "Tu aurais dû voir son visage quand Elize a changé devant lui. Il ne pouvait même pas dire que j'étais un loup qu'il est allé si loin."

Name:Johnathen Brisby Gender: Male Age: 32 Rank: Adult male Trade: cook Upright Appearance: 5'10 200lbs Canine Appearance: 7'6 nose to tail 200lbs Personality: The pack is Johns family and that makes him care for them like family. His passion is what keeps him from being more. John Loves to cook it was his passion the same way some painted or played a particular style of music. He could take any type of food and turn it into something that made even the most unsophisticated pallet take notice. Everything he did was basic and then the seasonings would change the melody or flavor from elevator music to Phil harmonic in surround sound. This is how John spoke to people. His mood was always intense but he was focused and generally happy. With no ambition other then to cook his standing in the pack is low. He follows the alpha out of instinct and his fathers teachings, John shows the proper respect at all times. His only raw nerve is the mistreatment of animals. History: Johns parents were good, they raised him and taught him about the truth in his blood. He learned a lot from his father including his cooking ability. Having no competition as an only child John enjoyed the full attention of his parents. Being at the low end of the pack standing has alienated him from finding a mate. This lack of companionship redoubles his efforts to be a better cook. When John turned twenty a wanderlust had taken root. The tales of his experiences and the knowledge that was earned from having faced the trails of his travels give him the confidence he uses every day. He traveled for years until being found by the current pack. Extra:None

Elize Vanzant Après avoir nourri son troupeau et les chevaux de Niall ainsi que les bovins et les porcs de la meute leurs rations de nourriture et s'être assuré que tout le monde avait de l'eau Elize retournant vers la salle à manger, ils allaient tous prendre le petit déjeuner très bientôt. Elle s'est arrêtée à sa propre petite cabane, la plus petite de celles qui sont ici sur la propriété et a changé de ses bottes de travail en une paire de bottes plus décontractées qu'elle n'était pas si disposée à se salir tout en bâillonnant les animaux. Les grands tirants d'eau de Niall avaient une mauvaise habitude de marcher sur son pied et de se branler de bonnes bottes. Elle a atteint la salle à manger assez facilement, se déplaçant dans les petits chemins de terre et de gravier entre les bâtiments. Elle sentait la nourriture que John cuisinait dans l'immeuble et elle se moquait avec gratitude. Elle a poussé la porte à l'immeuble qui n'avait qu'une petite serrure à l'extérieur pour garder les ours dehors. Il n'y avait rien qui soit assez courageux pour entrer dans la petite colonie maintenant. Peut-être que ce nouveau personnage apparaîtrait pour qu'elle puisse l'examiner un peu plus loin, il y avait quelque chose de bizarre à propos d'un loup qui ne connaissait pas sa propre nature. Ce sont les loups les plus dangereux. "Bonjour, John." La grande loupe a appelé alors qu'elle entrait dans l'immeuble. Elle savait qu'il serait dans la cuisine pour leur préparer le petit déjeuner. C'était vraiment un merveilleux cuisinier.

Name:Clayton 'Clay' Radshaw GenderMale Age:32 Rank:Adult Trade:Electrician/ mechanic Upright Appearance: 6ft 180lbs, natural fit and muscular. Canine Appearance: 44" in height, 7.5' in length at 180lbs, he has Heterochromia iridium, one eye is a pale blue and the other hazel. He is a lean and agile wolf. Personality: Clay, while a bit rough-around-the-edges is pretty care free and easy going guy. He can be a little arrogant and over confident and extremely head strong and stubborn at times. He is pretty quick to resort to violence or at least threats, the strike first ask questions later type. Character flaws aside he has a generally good heart and will make sacrifices for others. Behind his arrogance he doesn't really believe he is worth dirt, often denying his own happiness believing he must suffer for mistakes of the past. He's the kind of guy that trouble is attracted too. History: Clay hasn't been part of a pack for a while, maybe even ever. The lone wolf, he never stays in one place too long, always cutting ties and moving on. The traveller.

Terra Incognita Nouveau Bayheath La colonie se trouve sur une partie de la péninsule de la côte du Kasum, face aux continents grand et inexploré jungle avec l'océan vaste et tout aussi dangereux à l'arrière et aux côtés. Il est pluvieux mais la population travaille dur de ~500 sont principalement humains, bien que le nain et l'elfe occasionnels peuvent être vus de temps en temps. Face à la jungle, et s'étendant d'une côte à l'autre est une barricade en bois qui est presque constamment habitée par la milice coloniale, une petite armée composée à la fois de mercenaires engagés et de colons. La colonie a cinq mois, et a vu une vague de Malthes colons depuis sa fondation. Les principaux emplacements à New Bayheath sont... Manoir du gouverneur général : Un grand bâtiment sur la côte qui sert à la fois de bureau et de résidence privée du gouverneur général. The Lost Minstrel: La seule forme de récréation de New Bayheath, une grande salle d'hydromel. Fields : La seule ferme de New Bayheath est gardée 24h/24 et 7j/7 par une petite coalition de ses travailleurs, car la nourriture est sans doute la plus grande ressource de la colonie. Les champs poussent principalement du blé, qui est souvent transformé en gros pains. De plus, la colonie a un petit pâturage peuplé de 20 moutons, 10 chèvres et 10 vaches. Logement: Près de la ferme se trouve le quartier résidentiel de la colonie, qui se compose de rangées de chalets, tous faits de bois fournis par la jungle de Kasum. Ils conviennent généralement à deux à cinq personnes chacune, et sont d'une qualité raisonnable. Le Cercle : Au centre de la colonie se trouve une petite étape au centre d'un morceau circulaire de terre. Ici, les colons se rencontrent au commandement du gouverneur général. Il sert de lieu de rencontre en temps de crise, ou tout simplement de repère pour les personnes à se rassembler. Tour Samuel : Cette tour en bois de 40 pieds de haut repose près de la frontière de la colonie, et est généralement habitée par un seul éclaireur. Cartes Bientôt! Recueil du Kasum Rencontrez les indigènes, la faune et la flore pour avoir accès à leurs détails. Une fois les détails ajoutés, il n'est plus méta pour les mentionner, comme ils seraient publiés par le gouverneur général pour l'amélioration de la colonie. Mécanique Le but du jeu de rôle est de transformer New Bayheath en une ville fonctionnelle, tout en explorant simultanément Kasum. Pour ce faire, j'ai décidé d'intégrer quelques mécaniques de jeu-comme au jeu de rôle. Tous les deux mois (dans le jeu de rôle), le continent décidera si la colonie peut accueillir une nouvelle expédition de migrants. Si les joueurs ont réussi à repousser la jungle et colonisé plus de Kasum, alors la population de New Bayheath augmentera de 200. Si toutefois la colonie conserve le statu quo, aucun nouveau migrant n'arrivera. Si la colonie est attaquée, souffre d'une épidémie ou souffre d'une autre manière, la population diminuera. Si la colonie atteint 0, ce que je doute, mais qui sait, le jeu de rôle va changer radicalement. Mais concentrons-nous sur le moment présent. Jeu de rôle Le jour s'achève lorsque les colons emballent leurs outils et se dirigent vers la salle d'eau ou leurs maisons. Les champs ont été en partie récoltés ce matin, et ainsi dans la célébration, des festivités légères ont été organisées. Dans la salle des eaux-de-vie, un air jaunâtre joue, et même le gouverneur général a décidé de rendre grâce à la population de sa présence. Vous n'avez pas de devoir jusqu'à ce que la colonie dorme. Vous pouvez vous retirer chez vous, visiter la salle d'hydromel ou explorer New Bayheath.

Name: Tristan III of house Trivillan Race: Human Age: 26 Sex: Male Appearance: Slim build, but with the muscles expected of one trained in swordsmanship. 5'6 feet tall. Profession: Prince/Ambassador Social Ranking: Higher than a villager, but despite his skills with a sword and the fact that he's mostly there as an envoy, people might look at him as a 'spoiled brat' because of his royal background. Talents: Sword fighting and knowing which utensil to use when at fancy dinners. Personality: Positive, loyal and outgoing, Tristan could easily be compared to a golden retriever. He always tries to give everyone – and everything - the chance to prove that there's some good in each living being. Though seemingly naive, he often intentionally exaggerate those traits. He's noticed that people are often much easier to handle when they think he's stupid and gullible. Recent history: With five elder siblings all doing something productive with their lives, Tristan was pleased when his lord father informed him that he was to be sent as an ambassador to the new colony, despite the dangers this would surely put him in.

Ignaescious prend un long souffle après avoir descendu la troisième cruche d'hydromel qu'il avait aujourd'hui. Essuyant sa bouche avec son mouchoir, il s'est levé du banc en bois et a disposé ses pièces sur le côté pour être recueilli. En sortant de la salle de l'hydromel, il a fait un pas à l'extérieur et a accueilli l'air frais. Le temps était ici. C'est ce que j'ai dit. C'est ce que j'ai dit. différent. C'est différent de la maison. L'air autour de lui est né d'une race différente. C'était frais. Il se promena de façon décontractée autour de la région, prenant dans la belle vue et regardant l'air humide toucher sa peau. Je devrais le faire plus souvent, pensait-il. La compagnie d'autres hommes, elfes ou nains ne l'intéressait pas. C'est la mer qui l'appelait vraiment. Bénéficiant d'une bonne vue sur la mer, l'Elfe s'y tenait pendant un bon moment, prenant la vue. Au loin, il entendait les bruits étranges du bétail et du mouton, mais ils étaient pittoresques et s'ajoutaient à l'atmosphère. Ce continent était tout à fait nouveau, non lié par les maux de la terre auparavant. Il était à la maison, maintenant. Plongé dans sa poche, il a arraché une belle pomme rouge. C'était tout ce qui était grand dans le monde; naturel, apprivoisé et sans absolus. Il a mordu dedans. Le sentiment d'enfoncement de la délicieuseur courut à travers lui comme un prédicateur et son chœur, chantant des chants de Dieu et de sa grâce. Mon Dieu. La pensée l'a presque bâillonné. Non, Dieu était une pensée folle, comme s'il possédait quelque chose à cet être omnipotent. Cette pomme, cette vue sur la mer, l'air humide, les rayons de beau soleil qui embrassent ses cheveux, c'est là qu'on pouvait trouver le vrai bonheur. C'était à la maison.

Name: Ignaescious Horatio Race: Elf Age: 32 Sex: Male Appearance: Profession: Butcher Social Ranking: Claims to be Royalty but holds no proof. Traditional villager. Talents: Ignaescious has been cutting up animals for most of his life and as such can cleanly kill animals and use their meat to be cooked. He, however, is not a cook and cannot do anything with meat apart from cut it up all the right sections. One could say he would be decent with a sword, as he uses a cleaver in his spare time, but that would be ludicrous. The Elf has no experience in sword fighting as much as the next but will not be afraid to use one if necessary. He is practiced in sanitary conditions and will rarely catch any diseases. Personality: Ignaaescious is a Xenophobe and despises not only humans, dwarves and orcs, but also his very own race. No one knows why he has these beliefs and his cynical view on the world, but it is undoubtedly a leading reason to him going on this expedition. He feels himself not above the scrutiny he puts upon his peers but below it. He will always strive to be the best he can be, but even himself does not know how good of a person he can be. Mr. Horatio is often first viewed as arrogant and cynical, but the more one gets to know him the more pity you can play on him. Recent History: No one truly knows why he joined. He keeps it a secret and does not want anyone to know. His surprisingly evil nature can make it seem out of spite or like he has something to prove or maybe it is because he simply wants to escape the hate he has absorbed himself in. Maybe there is an even darker reason.

Tristan étendit ses bras sur sa tête en marchant, s'amusant dans l'agréable brûlure de ses muscles. Aujourd'hui a été assez mouvementé, ce qui avec les champs en cours de récolte et la suite de merry-making qui est maintenant en cours de réalisation. Il a trouvé tout ça très intéressant et amusant, car il n'avait jamais été témoin d'événements similaires de loin auparavant. Les champs et parmi les gens n'étaient pas un lieu pour un prince, après tout. Mais ici, il n'y avait pas de serviteurs, de conseillers ou de membres de la famille pour lui dire ce qu'il pouvait ou ne pouvait pas faire, alors il jouissait pleinement de cette nouvelle liberté. Bien sûr, il n'avait pas vraiment été en mesure d'aider beaucoup dans la récolte, car sa connaissance de telles choses étaient peu et purement théorique, mais il avait encore eu un bon moment juste observer et offrir occasionnellement pour aider avec des tâches plus simples. Beaucoup ont donné à ses vêtements plus chers un regard sceptique, à laquelle Tristan sourit de moutons et a donné un léger putois. C'est donc avec des pieds légers et un sourire sur son visage que Tristan est entré dans The Lost Minstrel, dans l'intention de boire et de socialiser tant qu'il pouvait garder les yeux ouverts - ou jusqu'à ce que la salle d'hydromel vide des gens prêts à le tenir compagnie. Peu importe ce qui est arrivé en premier. Tristan a passé un elfe en entrant, mais ne lui a pas beaucoup donné l'esprit, sauf hurler sa tête une fois qu'il est passé.

Name: Tristan III of house Trivillan Race: Human Age: 26 Sex: Male Appearance: Slim build, but with the muscles expected of one trained in swordsmanship. 5'6 feet tall. Profession: Prince/Ambassador Social Ranking: Higher than a villager, but despite his skills with a sword and the fact that he's mostly there as an envoy, people might look at him as a 'spoiled brat' because of his royal background. Talents: Sword fighting and knowing which utensil to use when at fancy dinners. Personality: Positive, loyal and outgoing, Tristan could easily be compared to a golden retriever. He always tries to give everyone – and everything - the chance to prove that there's some good in each living being. Though seemingly naive, he often intentionally exaggerate those traits. He's noticed that people are often much easier to handle when they think he's stupid and gullible. Recent history: With five elder siblings all doing something productive with their lives, Tristan was pleased when his lord father informed him that he was to be sent as an ambassador to the new colony, despite the dangers this would surely put him in.

Le bruit était difficile à ignorer. Uproar, criant dans une langue qu'il ne comprenait pas. Il méprisait les nains et leurs habitudes de consommation. Alors qu'ils étaient venus ici à la recherche de nouvelles richesses, ils avaient gardé leurs vieilles manières d'être bruyants et inquiétants. Quand apprendraient-ils? L'elfe tonnait dans la salle de l'hydromel, méfiant de voir d'où venait le son audacieux. Un nain, bien sûr, qui se comporte de nouveau comme un ivrogne. Il s'est assis pas trop loin du groupe et a enfilé son capot, cachant son visage. Si les choses se déroulaient, il s'assurerait qu'il n'y aurait plus de malheur pour les autres habitants de cette ville. Un si bel endroit, un si beau paysage, et ils insistent toujours pour boire à l'intérieur? Ces enfants indisciplinés. Ils verront bientôt la vérité.

Name: Ignaescious Horatio Race: Elf Age: 32 Sex: Male Appearance: Profession: Butcher Social Ranking: Claims to be Royalty but holds no proof. Traditional villager. Talents: Ignaescious has been cutting up animals for most of his life and as such can cleanly kill animals and use their meat to be cooked. He, however, is not a cook and cannot do anything with meat apart from cut it up all the right sections. One could say he would be decent with a sword, as he uses a cleaver in his spare time, but that would be ludicrous. The Elf has no experience in sword fighting as much as the next but will not be afraid to use one if necessary. He is practiced in sanitary conditions and will rarely catch any diseases. Personality: Ignaaescious is a Xenophobe and despises not only humans, dwarves and orcs, but also his very own race. No one knows why he has these beliefs and his cynical view on the world, but it is undoubtedly a leading reason to him going on this expedition. He feels himself not above the scrutiny he puts upon his peers but below it. He will always strive to be the best he can be, but even himself does not know how good of a person he can be. Mr. Horatio is often first viewed as arrogant and cynical, but the more one gets to know him the more pity you can play on him. Recent History: No one truly knows why he joined. He keeps it a secret and does not want anyone to know. His surprisingly evil nature can make it seem out of spite or like he has something to prove or maybe it is because he simply wants to escape the hate he has absorbed himself in. Maybe there is an even darker reason.

Donc... disons qu'elle avait le corps d'un elfe, le visage d'un humain et le rack d'un nain. "Dans ce cas, je devrais la labourer plus de fois que vous ne pouviez compter." Cette réaction s'accompagnait de rires vigoureux de la part du petit groupe d'hommes, affûtés autour d'un petit feu de camp, juste à la périphérie de la colonie, surplombant les champs. Il y avait un léger collage comme assiette giflée, les estomacs chargés d'hommes étant le seul vrai bruit dans le calme désolé de ce nouveau monde. C'était un contrat étrange, mais un contrat bien payé qui récolterait beaucoup de récompenses. Les hommes n'avaient pas été confrontés à trop de tracas, et le maintien des frontières et un certain travail de police était tout ce qu'ils avaient été chargés à ce jour. Jack Sullam, commandant et chef de la Red Coat Mercenary Company's Colonial Venture, faisait la ronde pour la dernière fois. Surveiller ses postes et ses patrouilles, il semblait heureux du travail qui avait été fait. Leur nombre serait étiré mince est la colonie agrandie beaucoup plus loin, mais d'ici là il pourrait mettre dans une demande pour plus d'hommes. Enfin content de la sécurité, Jack a décidé de se rendre à la salle des corvées. Il n'avait pas l'intention de boire lui-même, il brouillait son jugement, mais il devait faire l'apparence que la compagnie faisait partie de la colonie et pas seulement leurs murs. En entrant dans le bâtiment bondé, il a été presque étouffé par la puanteur de la bière et de la fumée. Il était presque trop sombre et rancoeur de manœuvrer, bien que, comme ses yeux ajustés, il a finalement fait son chemin à travers le labyrinthe des gens. En se dirigeant vers la tête de la salle, il se tenait assez près du gouverneur pour que sa présence soit connue, mais assez loin pour ne pas susciter de problèmes avec ses propres gardes. Une étrange décision de les envoyer, la compagnie avait été claire à travailler avec la colonie. C'était une mauvaise affaire de tenir quelque chose d'ultérieur sur un employeur.

Name: Jack Sullam Race: Human Age: 32 Sex: Male Profession: Mercenary Captain Social Ranking: In charge of the Red Coat Mercenary Band deployed to the colony. As well as that has authority over an average colonist. Talents: An adept swordsmen, from years of practice and experience. He also is physically very fit and knows how to led and organise men. Personality: I prefer to RP this. Recent history: As an officer in the RCM he was selected from a group of volunteers to lead the small band of RCM mercenaries deployed to the colony. Before the RCM he was a member of the Trade Republic of Bresiroth's army however he was discharged after disobeying orders that would have led to the death of his entire band of men. The RCM took him on and instilled true discipline I him, as well as giving him an opportunity to prove his worth on a battlefield again.

Les yeux du gouverneur général s'abattaient sur l'homme qui s'est présenté devant lui. L'armure rouge et argentée de Sullam le contrastait vivement contre les mauvaises habitudes des paysans qui habitaient les tables. En posant sa coupe, le gouverneur général traversa une jambe sur l'autre, s'appuyant sur un coude. "C'est un sacré spectacle, n'est-ce pas?" il demanda, sa voix forte pour qu'on l'entende au sujet des festivités, mais étrangement refusé, comme s'il s'abstenant d'exprimer son émotion. "Vous êtes de cette compagnie que nous avons engagé, l'erreur.. Ciels, comment ai-je oublié.." a-t-il dit, apportant un doigt à sa lèvre inférieure dans la pensée. Puis il lui est apparu. En fouillant un doigt, il lève la main dans l'air comme un geste de réalisation. "Les manteaux rouges!" il s'écria avec un sourire, notant à quel point il était stupide d'oublier, étant donné que l'uniforme de Sullam fournissait un indice évident.

Name: Tristan III of house Trivillan Race: Human Age: 26 Sex: Male Appearance: Slim build, but with the muscles expected of one trained in swordsmanship. 5'6 feet tall. Profession: Prince/Ambassador Social Ranking: Higher than a villager, but despite his skills with a sword and the fact that he's mostly there as an envoy, people might look at him as a 'spoiled brat' because of his royal background. Talents: Sword fighting and knowing which utensil to use when at fancy dinners. Personality: Positive, loyal and outgoing, Tristan could easily be compared to a golden retriever. He always tries to give everyone – and everything - the chance to prove that there's some good in each living being. Though seemingly naive, he often intentionally exaggerate those traits. He's noticed that people are often much easier to handle when they think he's stupid and gullible. Recent history: With five elder siblings all doing something productive with their lives, Tristan was pleased when his lord father informed him that he was to be sent as an ambassador to the new colony, despite the dangers this would surely put him in.

Tristan se tenait près du bar, applaudissant à la musique et imitant les quelques parties qu'il avait attrapées - la plupart du temps la partie allant 'yup, yup, yup!'. Mais ce qu'il manquait de connaissance, il l'a inventé avec enthousiasme. Le gardien de bar est venu avec le deuxième tankard d'hydromel qu'il avait commandé cette nuit-là, et Tristan en a pris une grande bouche avant de remettre quelques pièces. Il a arpenté le hall, à la recherche d'une table appropriée pour s'asseoir. Comme il n'était à la colonie que depuis plus d'un mois, et que la plupart de ce temps avait été passé à l'intérieur déballer, écrire des lettres et faire toutes sortes de travaux de papier, il n'avait pas eu le temps de beaucoup socialiser. Il s'est cogné et a repéré le gouverneur général lui-même plus loin dans la pièce. Tristan s'était assuré de se présenter à l'homme au moment où il est arrivé, et avait eu la chance de lui parler brièvement quelques fois depuis. Souriant largement, il se rapprocha de la plate-forme. Quand il était assez proche, il leva son tankard en saluant, ignorant que l'homme était déjà occupé dans une autre conversation. "Bonsoir à vous, Gouverneur!", Tristan a dû presque crier pour être entendu sur la musique et les applaudissements, et il n'avait aucune idée si le gouverneur le reconnaîtrait même. Non pas que ça comptait vraiment, il était juste poli. Il rit alors que son attention était attirée vers le nain qui rampait de nouveau sur la table, se balançant presque sur les autres musiciens dans le processus. Dans une crise d'euphorie et d'intoxication, Tristan monta ensuite sur la table à côté des nains et se leva les bras en l'air, renversant l'eau de cette façon et cela, « Et une très bonne soirée à chacun de vous tous les beaux gens! » Son exclamation a été accueillie avec plus d'applaudissements. Oh Atal, si son père pouvait le voir maintenant, Tristan. Bien qu'étant seulement sur son deuxième tankard, il était bien en chemin pour devenir complètement gaspillé. Les vins qu'il avait l'habitude d'avoir étaient loin d'être aussi forts que ce qu'ils servaient ici.

Name: Jack Sullam Race: Human Age: 32 Sex: Male Profession: Mercenary Captain Social Ranking: In charge of the Red Coat Mercenary Band deployed to the colony. As well as that has authority over an average colonist. Talents: An adept swordsmen, from years of practice and experience. He also is physically very fit and knows how to led and organise men. Personality: I prefer to RP this. Recent history: As an officer in the RCM he was selected from a group of volunteers to lead the small band of RCM mercenaries deployed to the colony. Before the RCM he was a member of the Trade Republic of Bresiroth's army however he was discharged after disobeying orders that would have led to the death of his entire band of men. The RCM took him on and instilled true discipline I him, as well as giving him an opportunity to prove his worth on a battlefield again.

Le gouverneur général regarda brièvement Tristan, baissant légèrement alors que le noble montait sur une table et applaudissait, beaucoup à l'houzza de la foule. Après cette pause, les yeux fatigués de la gouverneure générale débarquèrent une fois de plus sur le manteau rouge. Le vieux chef a écouté avec constance et sincérité, suggérant qu'en dépit de l'emplacement, il accordait une attention absolue aux suggestions du mercenaire. Une fois que l'homme Jack eut conclu sa proposition, le gouverneur général prit une petite gorgée de sa coupe, léchant ses lèvres sèches avec curtly. "Ce que vous suggérez est très raisonnable" a-t-il répondu, ses yeux regardant par-dessus la salle un moment avant d'attraper à nouveau le regard de Jack. "Vous représentez une faction puissante dans cette colonie, et ainsi, je vais demander à un de mes gardes de vous chercher si jamais j'ai besoin d'un conseil concernant la position prise par New Bayheath. En ce qui concerne la question de plus d'hommes, eh bien, plus sont toujours les bienvenus, la seule vraie question est de savoir si nous pouvons ou non nous permettre de les garder. Nous avons quelques maisons de rechange, mais vous avez raison, nous devons nous étendre, et bientôt. Notre cartographe travaille actuellement à l'élaboration d'un plan, mais jusqu'alors, je dis continuer le bon travail. Parlons-en le matin, amusons-nous, capitaine » l'homme a fini, applaudissant le mercenaire sur l'épaule, lui donnant une secousse joviale.

Name: Tristan III of house Trivillan Race: Human Age: 26 Sex: Male Appearance: Slim build, but with the muscles expected of one trained in swordsmanship. 5'6 feet tall. Profession: Prince/Ambassador Social Ranking: Higher than a villager, but despite his skills with a sword and the fact that he's mostly there as an envoy, people might look at him as a 'spoiled brat' because of his royal background. Talents: Sword fighting and knowing which utensil to use when at fancy dinners. Personality: Positive, loyal and outgoing, Tristan could easily be compared to a golden retriever. He always tries to give everyone – and everything - the chance to prove that there's some good in each living being. Though seemingly naive, he often intentionally exaggerate those traits. He's noticed that people are often much easier to handle when they think he's stupid and gullible. Recent history: With five elder siblings all doing something productive with their lives, Tristan was pleased when his lord father informed him that he was to be sent as an ambassador to the new colony, despite the dangers this would surely put him in.

Jack sourit et fit signe de ses remerciements au gouverneur, ce fut un bon début que les deux hommes purent tenir une conversation paisible et raisonnable. Les Red Coats seraient influents sur la politique à venir, il ne voulait tout simplement pas qu'il y ait un manque de communication. En ce moment, il voulait exactement ce que le gouverneur voulait. "Je suis heureux que nous puissions travailler ensemble sur ce gouverneur. Je vous assure, jusqu'à ce que la colonie puisse maintenir plus d'hommes, je n'apporterai pas plus. Je ne veux pas étendre nos ressources plus que nécessaire. Quoi qu'il en soit, comme vous l'avez dit, c'est le moment de se réjouir. Je ne vais pas boire moi-même, mais amusez-vous Gouverneur." Avec ce Jack quitta le côté des gouverneurs. En se dirigeant vers la porte, il a décidé qu'il passerait du temps dehors, en profitant de l'air frais. Avant qu'il ne prenne sa retraite pour la nuit.

Name: Jack Sullam Race: Human Age: 32 Sex: Male Profession: Mercenary Captain Social Ranking: In charge of the Red Coat Mercenary Band deployed to the colony. As well as that has authority over an average colonist. Talents: An adept swordsmen, from years of practice and experience. He also is physically very fit and knows how to led and organise men. Personality: I prefer to RP this. Recent history: As an officer in the RCM he was selected from a group of volunteers to lead the small band of RCM mercenaries deployed to the colony. Before the RCM he was a member of the Trade Republic of Bresiroth's army however he was discharged after disobeying orders that would have led to the death of his entire band of men. The RCM took him on and instilled true discipline I him, as well as giving him an opportunity to prove his worth on a battlefield again.

Hirion était toujours au travail, ses hommes qu'il a quittés, ses assistants partis. Pourtant, il a continué de planifier et de compter les ressources, ce projet prendrait plus d'une journée de travail à la fois. Les murs ont besoin d'être améliorés et d'autres maisons ont dû être construites, puis il a dû trouver du temps et des ressources pour commencer à créer des armes à feu. À l'heure actuelle, il n'avait que quelques épées et trois pistolets en stock, mais sans balles ni poudre, ils n'étaient que des clubs de luxe. Il soupira et regarda encore une fois l'atelier. C'était la première chose qu'il avait commandée construite, elle était plus chaude et plus sèche que les autres, car elle servait aussi de réserve d'armes. Demain, il aura une force en marche, puis il travaillera sur l'horloge. Ils pourraient commencer à faire appliquer un couvre-feu s'ils pouvaient obtenir l'horloge avec le carillon de cloche fonctionnant. Lonely était l'œuvre d'un génie.

Name: Hirion Aldalithe Race: Half-Elf Age: 24 Sex: Male Profession: Engineer Social Ranking: Head Engineer Talents: A crack engineer and even better gunsmith, his skill lay in building and innovation. He is also a large proponent of lighter-than-air travel. Personality: Cunning, clever, and daring. Hirion is able to think is way out of anything and often comes up with plans to get materials he needs. However, this is balanced with caring and selflessness, his work is often used to better help others and try to prevent needless death. Recent history: Hirion was until recently a thriving inventor however after an incident where one of his latest inventions caused great embarrassment to a King he fled. He would drift for awhile making watches and guns until he decided he needed a fresh start. Contacting the colonial expedition he showed them his credentials and was quickly excepted in to the crew.

Tout en étant encouragé par quelques villageois voisins avec des applaudissements et des sifflets, Tristan a abattu ce qui restait de son hydromel en un seul coup. Sa tête tournait après, et le monde autour de lui avait gagné une drôle d'inclinaison. Tournant la tête, il aperçut soudain une silhouette à capuche assise toute seule, loin du reste des gens dans le hall. Tristan a froncé. Ça ne marcherait pas! Avec toute la grâce et l'agilité d'un rhinocéros à trois pieds, Tristan a sauté de la table. Après avoir été maintenu par une femme serviable et l'avoir remerciée, il s'est rendu à la figure à capuche. -- Ce n'est pas le moment de rester seul, mon triste ami! Il a déclaré, debout devant l'autre, puis a offert son tankard vide, "Ici! Bois, bois! Ou... non, attends, c'est vide." Tristan a froncé le tankard, comme s'il l'avait remarqué pour la première fois. Il éclata alors en riant : « Peu importe! Tu viens avec moi au bar, et je t'offre un verre! » Tristan a fait un geste au bar, souriant dans l'attente.

Name: Ignaescious Horatio Race: Elf Age: 32 Sex: Male Appearance: Profession: Butcher Social Ranking: Claims to be Royalty but holds no proof. Traditional villager. Talents: Ignaescious has been cutting up animals for most of his life and as such can cleanly kill animals and use their meat to be cooked. He, however, is not a cook and cannot do anything with meat apart from cut it up all the right sections. One could say he would be decent with a sword, as he uses a cleaver in his spare time, but that would be ludicrous. The Elf has no experience in sword fighting as much as the next but will not be afraid to use one if necessary. He is practiced in sanitary conditions and will rarely catch any diseases. Personality: Ignaaescious is a Xenophobe and despises not only humans, dwarves and orcs, but also his very own race. No one knows why he has these beliefs and his cynical view on the world, but it is undoubtedly a leading reason to him going on this expedition. He feels himself not above the scrutiny he puts upon his peers but below it. He will always strive to be the best he can be, but even himself does not know how good of a person he can be. Mr. Horatio is often first viewed as arrogant and cynical, but the more one gets to know him the more pity you can play on him. Recent History: No one truly knows why he joined. He keeps it a secret and does not want anyone to know. His surprisingly evil nature can make it seem out of spite or like he has something to prove or maybe it is because he simply wants to escape the hate he has absorbed himself in. Maybe there is an even darker reason.

Juste une seconde, l'expression de Tristan est devenue vide. Alors, comme s'il n'avait jamais été, il a été remplacé par un put, "Quoi, en ce moment? Mais la musique et tous les gens sont là! » Il protesta, se penchant la hanche contre la table: «La fuite serait une honte terrible! Je vais devoir sauver cette offre pour une autre fois. Parce que - pas d'offense - je ne vois pas ce qu'un boucher doit offrir de mieux que d'être ici." inutilement, il a fait un geste au reste de la salle où quelques-uns ont continué les célébrations malgré la fin de l'heure, puis a offert la même main à l'étranger à capuche, « Je suis Tristan Trivillan, au fait. Ravi de vous rencontrer, monsieur...?"

Name: Jack Sullam Race: Human Age: 32 Sex: Male Profession: Mercenary Captain Social Ranking: In charge of the Red Coat Mercenary Band deployed to the colony. As well as that has authority over an average colonist. Talents: An adept swordsmen, from years of practice and experience. He also is physically very fit and knows how to led and organise men. Personality: I prefer to RP this. Recent history: As an officer in the RCM he was selected from a group of volunteers to lead the small band of RCM mercenaries deployed to the colony. Before the RCM he was a member of the Trade Republic of Bresiroth's army however he was discharged after disobeying orders that would have led to the death of his entire band of men. The RCM took him on and instilled true discipline I him, as well as giving him an opportunity to prove his worth on a battlefield again.

Chris a regardé que le chef de la monnaie rouge s'est propagé dans l'obscurité. Assez drôlement, c'était peut-être la rencontre la plus agréable qu'il ait eue avec l'homme. D'habitude, les mots de Jack Sullam bâillonnaient un peu plus, et étaient au moins quelques phrases plus longues. Chris jouait même avec l'idée qu'il s'échauffait pour lui. Débarrassez-vous des paroles du chef mercenaire, il est entré dans la taverne occupée. Le chant et la musique étaient assourdissants. La puanteur de l'alcool et de la fumée était nausée. Le goût de l'air était inébranlable. Mais la vie. Chris aimait toutes les formes de vie. La vie tranquille et émouvante du désert, la vie quotidienne animée dans les grandes villes, et même cela, une foule ramifiée de presque toutes les formes de personnes qu'il n'avait jamais vues. Il ne pouvait s'empêcher de respirer et de profiter de la vie, surtout après sa petite rencontre à l'extérieur. En regardant autour de la pièce, il a vu quelques-unes des personnes notables qu'il connaissait ici, à savoir le gouverneur général, ainsi que la nouvelle arrivée, Tristan. Il était dans un coin, mais ce n'était pas grave pour Chris. Chris n'a pas hésité à passer du temps seul ici, à regarder et à s'imprégner des festivités. Il s'est trouvé un tabouret vide au bar et s'est installé. Ses pieds ont souffert alors qu'il les soulevait du sol. En commandant une pinte du barman, il s'est branlé et s'est reposé les coudes sur le bar. En prenant une gorgée d'hydromel, il a regardé.

Name: Ignaescious Horatio Race: Elf Age: 32 Sex: Male Appearance: Profession: Butcher Social Ranking: Claims to be Royalty but holds no proof. Traditional villager. Talents: Ignaescious has been cutting up animals for most of his life and as such can cleanly kill animals and use their meat to be cooked. He, however, is not a cook and cannot do anything with meat apart from cut it up all the right sections. One could say he would be decent with a sword, as he uses a cleaver in his spare time, but that would be ludicrous. The Elf has no experience in sword fighting as much as the next but will not be afraid to use one if necessary. He is practiced in sanitary conditions and will rarely catch any diseases. Personality: Ignaaescious is a Xenophobe and despises not only humans, dwarves and orcs, but also his very own race. No one knows why he has these beliefs and his cynical view on the world, but it is undoubtedly a leading reason to him going on this expedition. He feels himself not above the scrutiny he puts upon his peers but below it. He will always strive to be the best he can be, but even himself does not know how good of a person he can be. Mr. Horatio is often first viewed as arrogant and cynical, but the more one gets to know him the more pity you can play on him. Recent History: No one truly knows why he joined. He keeps it a secret and does not want anyone to know. His surprisingly evil nature can make it seem out of spite or like he has something to prove or maybe it is because he simply wants to escape the hate he has absorbed himself in. Maybe there is an even darker reason.

Se tenant lentement, le gouverneur général frotta l'arrière de son cou, le nœud dans son muscle un signe que cette chaise était mal faite, et qu'il faudrait éventuellement la remplacer. Pourtant, la colonie craignait que l'on n'ait plus besoin de meubles confortables, et de toute façon, il n'était pas temps de s'occuper de ces questions. Quelques secondes après la présence du gouverneur, la foule s'est calmée, de plus en plus de ses colons se rendant compte qu'il devait s'adresser à eux. Sa capacité à réduire au silence une salle d'ivrognes en se tenant debout n'était qu'un exemple du respect qu'il a ordonné à ses hommes. Le gouverneur général était un homme juste, aimé de tous pour son leadership stoïque qui avait fait de cette colonie un succès, alors que la Bayheath originale avait échoué. Une fois que tout avait bousillé, le gouverneur s'est exprimé. « Mesdames et Messieurs, il est temps pour moi de prendre ma retraite pour la nuit, mais j'ai apprécié ce soir de célébration, et j'espère que vous aussi. Je voudrais toutefois vous rappeler à tous qu'il reste encore beaucoup à faire. Demain, je m'attends à ce que vous vous leviez tous très tôt, une colonie ne fleurit pas quand ses hommes et ses femmes dorment jusqu'à midi. Mais pour l'instant, calmez-vous. Bonne nuit" dit-il d'un ton paternel, les mains dans le dos. Peu après son discours, le Gouverneur, escorté par ses gardes, est parti par une sortie arrière, disparaissant dans la nuit.

Name: Tristan III of house Trivillan Race: Human Age: 26 Sex: Male Appearance: Slim build, but with the muscles expected of one trained in swordsmanship. 5'6 feet tall. Profession: Prince/Ambassador Social Ranking: Higher than a villager, but despite his skills with a sword and the fact that he's mostly there as an envoy, people might look at him as a 'spoiled brat' because of his royal background. Talents: Sword fighting and knowing which utensil to use when at fancy dinners. Personality: Positive, loyal and outgoing, Tristan could easily be compared to a golden retriever. He always tries to give everyone – and everything - the chance to prove that there's some good in each living being. Though seemingly naive, he often intentionally exaggerate those traits. He's noticed that people are often much easier to handle when they think he's stupid and gullible. Recent history: With five elder siblings all doing something productive with their lives, Tristan was pleased when his lord father informed him that he was to be sent as an ambassador to the new colony, despite the dangers this would surely put him in.

L'homme était manifestement fou. Il s'élançait pendant des décennies et ne pouvait pas garder ses deux yeux sur le même endroit pendant plus de quelques millisecondes. Il était évidemment un danger pour la société. L'elfe ne regarda pas le gouverneur qui quittait la pièce et ne s'occupait pas de lui. Il était juste. Cet ivrogne trouverait que boire en excès était mal. Ignaescious pousse rapidement ses bras, s'accroche et se tient serré au collier de l'homme devant lui, le poussant rapidement vers la porte de la taverne, essayant de l'enlever du couloir.

Name: Ignaescious Horatio Race: Elf Age: 32 Sex: Male Appearance: Profession: Butcher Social Ranking: Claims to be Royalty but holds no proof. Traditional villager. Talents: Ignaescious has been cutting up animals for most of his life and as such can cleanly kill animals and use their meat to be cooked. He, however, is not a cook and cannot do anything with meat apart from cut it up all the right sections. One could say he would be decent with a sword, as he uses a cleaver in his spare time, but that would be ludicrous. The Elf has no experience in sword fighting as much as the next but will not be afraid to use one if necessary. He is practiced in sanitary conditions and will rarely catch any diseases. Personality: Ignaaescious is a Xenophobe and despises not only humans, dwarves and orcs, but also his very own race. No one knows why he has these beliefs and his cynical view on the world, but it is undoubtedly a leading reason to him going on this expedition. He feels himself not above the scrutiny he puts upon his peers but below it. He will always strive to be the best he can be, but even himself does not know how good of a person he can be. Mr. Horatio is often first viewed as arrogant and cynical, but the more one gets to know him the more pity you can play on him. Recent History: No one truly knows why he joined. He keeps it a secret and does not want anyone to know. His surprisingly evil nature can make it seem out of spite or like he has something to prove or maybe it is because he simply wants to escape the hate he has absorbed himself in. Maybe there is an even darker reason.

Momentanément stupéfait par le mouvement soudain, et les réflexes émoussés par l'hydromel, Tristan a à peine réagi jusqu'à ce que l'elfe l'ait déjà traîné quelques pas. Cette rencontre avait vraiment pris un tournant inattendu. "Hé!", il a crié, essayant d'arracher les doigts d'Ignaescious de sa chemise et de creuser ses talons dans les planches, "Lâche-moi! C'est juste de la confiserie, rien à obtenir. - en colère à propos de! » Tristan avait senti quelque chose à propos de l'elfe quand il avait fait l'offre de lui montrer les bouchers - vous n'avez pas survécu longtemps au tribunal si vous ne pouviez pas détecter un faux sourire, soûl ou pas - mais n'avaient pas du tout pensé qu'il ferait quelque chose d'aussi drastique que l'enlèvement public. Alors qu'ils se rapprochaient de la porte, les luttes de Tristan ont augmenté, mais avec la façon dont la pièce tournait cela ne lui a pas fait beaucoup de bien. Bon sang d'alcool et ses propriétés attrayantes. "Sérieusement, Iggy, lâche-toi!" Il a commencé à atteindre le petit couteau qu'il gardait dans sa ceinture, mais hésitait à l'utiliser. La violence était un dernier recours, et Tristan ne voulait pas risquer de blesser qui que ce soit - même légèrement dérangé elfes - à moins qu'il ne soit strictement nécessaire, et dans son état actuel, il n'avait pas la coordination pour être prudent.

Name: Ignaescious Horatio Race: Elf Age: 32 Sex: Male Appearance: Profession: Butcher Social Ranking: Claims to be Royalty but holds no proof. Traditional villager. Talents: Ignaescious has been cutting up animals for most of his life and as such can cleanly kill animals and use their meat to be cooked. He, however, is not a cook and cannot do anything with meat apart from cut it up all the right sections. One could say he would be decent with a sword, as he uses a cleaver in his spare time, but that would be ludicrous. The Elf has no experience in sword fighting as much as the next but will not be afraid to use one if necessary. He is practiced in sanitary conditions and will rarely catch any diseases. Personality: Ignaaescious is a Xenophobe and despises not only humans, dwarves and orcs, but also his very own race. No one knows why he has these beliefs and his cynical view on the world, but it is undoubtedly a leading reason to him going on this expedition. He feels himself not above the scrutiny he puts upon his peers but below it. He will always strive to be the best he can be, but even himself does not know how good of a person he can be. Mr. Horatio is often first viewed as arrogant and cynical, but the more one gets to know him the more pity you can play on him. Recent History: No one truly knows why he joined. He keeps it a secret and does not want anyone to know. His surprisingly evil nature can make it seem out of spite or like he has something to prove or maybe it is because he simply wants to escape the hate he has absorbed himself in. Maybe there is an even darker reason.

Les hommes glacés de la salle de l'hydromel n'ont rien fait d'autre qu'applaudir à la rangée soudaine entre Ignaescious et Tristan, pensant qu'il n'y avait rien de plus qu'un combat inoffensif dans un bar. La musique tournoyait comme auparavant, les foules retournant à leurs propres conversations. Ailleurs... La jungle, juste à l'extérieur du périmètre de la colonie, tremblait alors qu'une brise rapide secouait les feuilles, attirant l'attention du scout dans la tour de Samuel. Tirant rapidement son verre d'espion de sa hanche, le jeune homme balaya d'abord le périmètre de la forêt, avant de lui donner un second coup d'œil, cette fois-ci le long du mur de la flore épaisse lentement. Le scout s'arrêta à mi-chemin de l'action, paralysé par la peur comme son regard verrouillé avec celui de quelqu'un dans les buissons. Un seul visage pâle regarda en arrière à travers la lentille du spyglass, ses yeux noirs comme du charbon de bois, et ses caractéristiques semblables à celles d'un humain, mais à de petits degrés, assez pour rendre son visage perturbant. En un clin d'œil, il recula, retourna dans la jungle. Une seconde après le départ de la créature, le scout tomba à l'envers et respira des respirations frémissantes et paniquées.

Name: Tristan III of house Trivillan Race: Human Age: 26 Sex: Male Appearance: Slim build, but with the muscles expected of one trained in swordsmanship. 5'6 feet tall. Profession: Prince/Ambassador Social Ranking: Higher than a villager, but despite his skills with a sword and the fact that he's mostly there as an envoy, people might look at him as a 'spoiled brat' because of his royal background. Talents: Sword fighting and knowing which utensil to use when at fancy dinners. Personality: Positive, loyal and outgoing, Tristan could easily be compared to a golden retriever. He always tries to give everyone – and everything - the chance to prove that there's some good in each living being. Though seemingly naive, he often intentionally exaggerate those traits. He's noticed that people are often much easier to handle when they think he's stupid and gullible. Recent history: With five elder siblings all doing something productive with their lives, Tristan was pleased when his lord father informed him that he was to be sent as an ambassador to the new colony, despite the dangers this would surely put him in.

Après avoir été relâché, Tristan a doublé, s'emparant de son intestin douloureux et toussant. "Ow,ow!" il gémit, s'étirant lentement vers le haut, se penchant contre le mur, "C'était un peu inutile, n'est-ce pas?" Peut-être que c'était un signe d'en haut qu'il était temps d'arrêter de boire et de rentrer chez lui, il s'est moqué. Tristan a ensuite levé les yeux, voyant Ignaescious sur le sol. Il a carrelé sa tête, sourcils sillonnant, "Ça va, là?" Il s'empresse encore d'avoir l'estomac, il se rapproche de l'elfe, essayant prudemment d'avoir un regard sur son visage. Il n'a pas osé s'approcher trop, cependant, au cas où Ignaescious serait de nouveau devenu agressif, "Je- euh, je pense que je vais appeler ça une nuit, Iggy. Mais, tu sais, pas de sentiments difficiles. Pour que tu essaies de m'enlever et de me frapper, je veux dire. Tout le monde a une mauvaise journée de temps en temps, je comprends. Peut-être que nous pourrons prendre un nouveau départ un autre jour quand tu seras de meilleure humeur." Il a suggéré, même s'il avait une légère suspicion que c'était l'humeur quotidienne de l'Elfe, "Bonne nuit à vous, mon ami grincheux, et ne vous couchez pas sur le sol trop longtemps, ou vous allez attraper un rhume!" Avec ces mots de séparation, Tristan donna une vague au reste de la salle, avant de sauter dans la nuit. Il a failli trébucher au-dessus du seuil, mais seulement ri enivré à sa propre maladresse. Aujourd'hui a été intéressant, en effet.

Name: Ignaescious Horatio Race: Elf Age: 32 Sex: Male Appearance: Profession: Butcher Social Ranking: Claims to be Royalty but holds no proof. Traditional villager. Talents: Ignaescious has been cutting up animals for most of his life and as such can cleanly kill animals and use their meat to be cooked. He, however, is not a cook and cannot do anything with meat apart from cut it up all the right sections. One could say he would be decent with a sword, as he uses a cleaver in his spare time, but that would be ludicrous. The Elf has no experience in sword fighting as much as the next but will not be afraid to use one if necessary. He is practiced in sanitary conditions and will rarely catch any diseases. Personality: Ignaaescious is a Xenophobe and despises not only humans, dwarves and orcs, but also his very own race. No one knows why he has these beliefs and his cynical view on the world, but it is undoubtedly a leading reason to him going on this expedition. He feels himself not above the scrutiny he puts upon his peers but below it. He will always strive to be the best he can be, but even himself does not know how good of a person he can be. Mr. Horatio is often first viewed as arrogant and cynical, but the more one gets to know him the more pity you can play on him. Recent History: No one truly knows why he joined. He keeps it a secret and does not want anyone to know. His surprisingly evil nature can make it seem out of spite or like he has something to prove or maybe it is because he simply wants to escape the hate he has absorbed himself in. Maybe there is an even darker reason.

(( Étant donné que la plupart des castings ont apprécié la première nuit du jeu de rôle, je suis rapide en avant à l'aube. N'hésitez pas à prendre l'histoire avec vos personnages se réveillant ou allant à propos de leurs tâches du matin. )) Le coq chanta sa mélodie tordue, réveillant ceux qui étaient au lit, et dérangeant ceux qui travaillaient déjà. Alors que la créature à plumes se taisait, le gouverneur général sortait de chez lui, regardant la terre verte et brune sur laquelle New Bayheath avait été bâtie. En respirant profondément, le gouverneur général s'est dirigé vers le Cercle, ses gardes l'ayant suivi jusqu'au bout. Alors qu'il passait à côté des membres de la colonie, ils l'accueillaient avec des sourires de génie et des sourcils levés, toujours au plaisir de dire « bonjour ». « Ils sont très bons, ces hommes » fit remarquer le gouverneur à l'un de ses gardes, qui ne fit que grogner d'accord alors qu'il s'approcha finalement de la scène circulaire au centre de la colonie. Tandis qu'il se tenait, un garde a sorti une large cloche de cuivre, le sonnant fort en battant son bras. Au fur et à mesure que la foule se rassemblait, le gouverneur n'était pas sûr de savoir s'il devait leur dire ce que le scout avait repéré la nuit dernière. D'une part, il pourrait être utile de rallier ses hommes à l'action, tandis que, inversement, il pourrait frapper la peur dans leur cœur. La colonie ne s'était pas encore réunie, de sorte que le gouverneur a eu le temps de se décider alors que la cloche continuait à sonner.

Name: Tristan III of house Trivillan Race: Human Age: 26 Sex: Male Appearance: Slim build, but with the muscles expected of one trained in swordsmanship. 5'6 feet tall. Profession: Prince/Ambassador Social Ranking: Higher than a villager, but despite his skills with a sword and the fact that he's mostly there as an envoy, people might look at him as a 'spoiled brat' because of his royal background. Talents: Sword fighting and knowing which utensil to use when at fancy dinners. Personality: Positive, loyal and outgoing, Tristan could easily be compared to a golden retriever. He always tries to give everyone – and everything - the chance to prove that there's some good in each living being. Though seemingly naive, he often intentionally exaggerate those traits. He's noticed that people are often much easier to handle when they think he's stupid and gullible. Recent history: With five elder siblings all doing something productive with their lives, Tristan was pleased when his lord father informed him that he was to be sent as an ambassador to the new colony, despite the dangers this would surely put him in.

Tristan a été réveillé par la sonnerie lointaine de la cloche, et l'a immédiatement regretté. "Oh, Atal ont pitié..." il gémit dans l'oreiller. Il n'a plus jamais bu. Assis, ses cheveux auburn foncés s'étirant à tous les mauvais angles, il a remarqué que le soleil était déjà bien en chemin vers le haut. Ce n'était pas bon! Le discours du gouverneur général lui manquerait! Levant trop vite, Tristan dut se pencher un moment contre le mur, tenant sa tête douloureuse et prenant quelques respirations profondes. Une fois que les effets de sa gueule de bois ont baissé à des niveaux supportables, il a enlevé sa chemise et son pantalon, les mettant sur. En lui donnant son armure, il s'est cogné comme l'assiette de la poitrine s'est inconfortablement battue contre les meurtrissures laissées sur son estomac depuis la nuit dernière. Ignaescious l'avait vraiment bien fait, et il s'est réprimandé d'avoir laissé ça arriver. Ce n'est pas qu'il y avait beaucoup à faire maintenant. Enfin, il a attaché son épée fermement à sa hanche, c'est du poids réconfortant et lui donnant un sentiment de sécurité. Il se hoche la tête, prêt à prendre un autre jour. En descendant les escaliers, il a été accueilli par les enfants de la famille qui vivaient également dans la cabane. On lui avait offert une cabane à son arrivée, mais il avait poliment refusé. Il aurait été beaucoup trop seul pour ses goûts, et il préférerait louer le dernier étage de cette cabane, où la famille pourrait vraiment faire avec une pièce de monnaie supplémentaire. Les enfants l'ont informé que leurs parents étaient déjà partis pour le Cercle, mais qu'ils lui avaient laissé un petit déjeuner. C'est donc avec sa bouche pleine et une bande de viande séchée dans sa main que Tristan se précipita dans la rue menant au centre de la colonie, allant aussi vite que sa pauvre tête le lui permettrait. Tristan a lâché un soupir de soulagement quand il est arrivé au cercle. Le gouverneur général n'avait pas encore commencé. Tristan n'avait pas voulu le manquer, car il le voyait comme faisant partie de ses fonctions d'envoyé pour assister à des événements publics, aussi petits soient-ils. Bien que, venant tard signifiait que tous les quelques points d'ombre disponibles étaient déjà occupés, Tristan devait donc s'installer debout au soleil. Espérons que la réunion serait terminée avant que la chaleur tropicale ne s'installe vraiment, ou Tristan aurait besoin d'un bain avant le dîner. L'armure et la lumière directe du soleil n'ont pas réussi ensemble pendant une longue période de temps.

Name: Jack Sullam Race: Human Age: 32 Sex: Male Profession: Mercenary Captain Social Ranking: In charge of the Red Coat Mercenary Band deployed to the colony. As well as that has authority over an average colonist. Talents: An adept swordsmen, from years of practice and experience. He also is physically very fit and knows how to led and organise men. Personality: I prefer to RP this. Recent history: As an officer in the RCM he was selected from a group of volunteers to lead the small band of RCM mercenaries deployed to the colony. Before the RCM he was a member of the Trade Republic of Bresiroth's army however he was discharged after disobeying orders that would have led to the death of his entire band of men. The RCM took him on and instilled true discipline I him, as well as giving him an opportunity to prove his worth on a battlefield again.

C'était le troisième jour du nouveau semestre chez Saint Dymphna. Certains élèves se familiarisaient de nouveau avec des amis et discutaient de divers sujets, d'autres s'habituent encore au grand campus du dortoir. Dans l'ensemble, les choses se passaient comme on pouvait s'y attendre dans un internat aussi vaste. La cérémonie d'accueil venait de se terminer et c'était actuellement l'heure du déjeuner. Comme il s'agissait encore des premiers jours d'école, il n'y aurait pas de cours dans l'après-midi. Jusqu'à la fin de la semaine, chaque heure du déjeuner jusqu'à ce que le couvre-feu soit libre pour les étudiants. Parmi les étudiants, le mot s'était rapidement répandu à propos d'une grande « fête d'introduction » pour les nouveaux arrivants. À l'extérieur, il n'y avait rien d'inhabituel, mais il y avait un secret sous courant dans les airs. La vérité était, chaque année, que les classes supérieures utiliseraient le parti comme un moyen d'introduire de nouveaux étudiants à toute l'idée de 'vous avez des pouvoirs maintenant!', mais bien sûr, les gens qui viennent d'arriver à l'école n'en avaient aucune idée. Naturellement, pour les hommes de la classe supérieure, regarder leurs visages choqués et paniqués faisait partie de l'amusement quand il s'agissait de révéler le côté caché de l'école.

Character Sheet: Name: Picture/Description: Age (At least Highschool age): Gender: Personality: Talent: Ability: Bio: Other:

Belle s'est retrouvée seule dans l'une des plus grandes cafétérias, grignotant lentement sur la pizza tout en lisant l'Inferno de Dante. Elle voulait le lire depuis longtemps et maintenant qu'elle a fini son dernier morceau, elle a finalement eu le temps de le faire. Jusqu'ici, c'était... intéressant. Elle a dû l'admettre, l'idée de placer ses ennemis dans un inferno ardent était une idée plutôt agréable, mais elle ne savait pas si cela serait considéré... C'est délicieux. Elle ne l'a pas considéré ainsi, de toute façon. Soupirant quand elle atteignit Canto XIII, quelque chose sur les arbres gémissant et gémissant. Elle y arriverait probablement plus tard. Pour l'instant, elle en avait assez. En plaçant le dernier morceau de croûte de pizza dans sa bouche, Belle s'étirait, la réalisation soudaine sur elle. Depuis combien de temps est-elle ici? Comme... une heure ou deux? - C'est quoi, ça? Ses épaules ont sauté dans une éraflure alors qu'elle sautait et marchait vers le comptoir pour obtenir plus de pizzas sur son visage. En ramassant ses livres le long du chemin, elle fit place à la table extérieure la plus proche et s'assit, se contentant de regarder passer le nuage alors qu'elle grignotait sur sa pizza. C'était une belle journée après tout et l'observation des nuages était un passe-temps particulier pour elle. Son esprit est revenu il y a quelques jours, à l'appel téléphonique avec sa mère. Elle sentait son cœur se resserrer à la pensée. Sa mère a eu cet effet sur elle. Ce sentiment que vous obtenez quand quelque chose vient par qui vous remplit d'une telle peur que vous voulez simplement courir pour le plus serré, trou sombre à ramper dedans. Encore une fois, elle pourrait commencer à t'enterrer dedans. Belle ne l'aurait pas passé devant le vieux escroc. Sa mère était déterminée à l'épouser avec un fils riche d'un PDG d'entreprise. Elle ne s'intéressait pas à ça, quoi qu'il en soit. Son père n'arrêtait pas d'essayer de le dire à sa mère, mais elle refusait d'écouter. Combien de gars a-t-elle refusé? À ce stade, il devenait une forme d'art. Quoi qu'il en soit, elle était ici maintenant, un an plus tard, en train de bronzer avec une pizza entre ses dents et une belle peinture (complète) dans sa chambre. La vie était bonne.

Name: Isabelle "Belle" Castillo Age: 17 Gender: Female (Though she has been mistaken for a male.) Personality: Artistic and bubbly, Belle tends to get on people's nerves. There are some people who also say she's a bit bi-polar as she can go from being happy and bubbly, to suddenly running off to do something with a blank stare on her face. She never likes to sit still and loves meeting new people and making new friends. She can't stand sweet foods and she hates, 'perfect' people. Talent: Artist: Belle is good at all facets of the arts; literature, digital and traditional medias, and music. Ability: People Whisperer: Belle can use her artistic abilites, music, paint, literature or otherwise, to make people feel a certain way. In this, she can impart emotions on to the person viewing, hearing, or touching her art. Once the art has been created, she no longer has control over it, though the art will lose it's power within a day or two. Bio: Belle is the daughter of a wealthy family and is treated as a princess. However, she has other plans. She hates the dresses they put her in and the things they make her do. She'd much rather spend her time doing art, listening to her imaginary friend, "Muse." After a fight with her parents, Belle ran away from home, choosing to stay at a nearby school. Her parents, unable to bring their daughter back, reluctantly decided to fund her and now she will occasionally go home to visit with the promise that they won't try to hook her up with a 'prince' and she won't do any art. Other: ...Uh... Belle isn't afraid to speak her mind. At all. :| OH, and she has a pet cat named Kiri. He's a fat, black and white cat that lives in her room.

Dans un coin relativement solitaire du campus, un jeune s'assombrissait de façon détendue sur un banc, d'une manière très insouciante, alors qu'il mettait un coude sur le reste du dos. Plus tard, de sorte qu'il faisait tout aussi bien partie du paysage que la passerelle, l'arbre voisin et l'oiseau qui chantait dans ses branches, il semblait être absorbé dans un petit livre qu'il tenait expertement d'une seule main. Le seul mouvement perceptible qu'il fit fut le voyage inconscient de ses yeux verts vifs, et quand ils en eurent épuisé un, le scintillement vers une autre page les réinitialisa à la position nord-ouest qu'ils connaissaient de plus en plus. "Vous n'avez pas encore mangé le déjeuner," est venu la pensée, puissant et vif aux processus indigènes de son esprit. "Cette littérature mérite-t-elle vraiment une telle fixation?" Et à cela, la jeunesse a remué pour la première fois en de nombreuses minutes, en déplaçant ses pieds et ses bras et en laissant le sang circuler pour les rafraîchir. Il clignait une fois, et ôtait une serrure perdue de ses cheveux bruns courts loin de son visage avec un coup de main perfunctory. Notant un flou soudain à sa vision, il a également ajusté ses lunettes sur le pont de son nez. Mais pendant tout ce temps, il n'a jamais enlevé ses yeux du livre, et au moment où il a rendu son coude au repos arrière, il a filmé une autre page. « C'est intéressant, Cadwal », répondit Timothy simplement, dans son esprit. "Plus intéressant que le déjeuner?" le chevalier fantôme a fait remarquer. "Ceci ne peut pas être sain." Timothy prit alors la canette de Nescafé assis à côté de lui et prit une gorgée, bien qu'il fût vraiment surpris que le liquide fût tiède quand il rencontra ses lèvres. « Le café n'est pas un substitut au déjeuner », a ajouté Cadwal. -- Et que savez-vous du café, ser chevalier? "Qu'il ne s'agisse pas de potage ou de découpes de porc, c'est sûr." La jeunesse n'a pas répondu immédiatement à son compagnon fantôme, bien que cela était caractéristique de lui et aucune cause de préoccupation. Cadwal avait appris à devenir patient avec ce trait, bien que le croisé tombé a été légèrement surpris quand sa charge a effectivement fermé le livre, de façon décisive avec un clap de la réunion piles de pages. « J'apprécie votre intérêt pour ma santé », conclut Timothy. "Bien, je vais à la cafétéria." "C'est un bon garçon." Et avec cela, il s'est levé, s'étirant languissant languissant avant de marcher jusqu'à l'immeuble et de jeter sa boîte vide de Nescafé quelque part le long du chemin.

Timothy “Tim” Aquinas Description: An unassuming youth with pale skin, brown hair and emerald eyes, Timothy is lean and rather thin. Thin-framed eyeglasses sit upon the bridge of his nose, windows to eyes that brighten up in a charming, childlike way when he smiles. He stands at a good 6’0” tall, and prefers simple clothing: many of his shirts are black or grey and without print, and the ones that do have only minimalistic designs. His pants and other apparel are equally unassuming. But never is he seen without his only apparent accessory: a small pendant in the shape of an elaborate Celtic crucifix of silver, hanging from his neck by a chain. Described by Cadwal as having a "cherub's melody," Timothy has a deceptively effeminate voice in manner and less so in inflection. Age: 16 Gender: Male Personality: “Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to Your Name give glory.” The foremost thing one might notice about Timothy is his zeal. A devout Catholic, he is well-read in the Bible and zealous. And unlike some others, Timothy has taken the teachings of the Scripture to heart, making him a genuinely friendly and caring person. Love his neighbor, love his enemy? Timothy most certainly does. Honest and loyal, his care for the well-being of others extends to the spiritual: he is convinced that those of heathen faiths – especially the People of the Book But Do Not Believe – and true unbelievers must be enlightened sooner or later. Then there are the Ones Who Come in His Name but Twist His Words, like Westboro, which he finds especially despicable. Timothy is especially fond of literature, especially medieval history. He knows full well how Duke Enrique of Savoy invaded Monferatto from the Duke of Mantua as he had run out of patience with waiting for Emperor Rudolf of the Holy Roman Empire to answer his petition to have the mentioned territory transferred to the custody of his daughter, Margherita, as she was kicked out of the Mantuan Duke’s court for not having sired a child for her husband, the Duke’s late brother, before he died. Always hungry for more knowledge, his learning of this subject which he most adores is supplemented by the Holy Ghosts whom he summons and who are more than willing to answer his many, many questions. They may also be the reason why his favorite video game is Medieval II: Total War. Quite softspoken, the mildness of his words is such that people are often left cynically wondering whether or not Timothy is mocking them. The sincerity with which he prays before eating his meals is viewed by some as merely an exaggeration: a mockery of those who practice Christianity. However, Timothy does not practice deceit. What he does is honest. He believes his unique ability to summon fallen Crusaders is given to him by God. Talent: Esoteric Knowledge: Timothy is well-read in obscure history books, and can regurgitate most of what he has learned, knowledge extracted from the literary works of people Like E.B Sledge, Sir Arthur Lloyd, and Peter H. Wilson. But, ever humble, Timothy only shares what he knows when the situation calls for it. Ability: Tongue of Fallen Martyrs: Timothy can communicate with summoned Holy Ghosts telepathically, surmounting any distance and time and in pure thought, eliminating the language barrier. Cadwal is a special case, and is an exception to the rule. Legiones Ecclesiae: At his command, Timothy can call forth Holy Ghosts of the most proactive members of the Church-Militant, namely, Crusaders. Having had this unique gift since early childhood, he has improved the ability in that he can keep indefinitely one Holy Ghost and dispel them at his whim. With a whispered plea and holding a holy symbol of Christianity (like a cross, or his pendant), Timothy beckons the departed souls of those who killed and died in the name of Christ from the ether and into the worldly earth. Fading into existence, they are then at the summoner's beck and call. However, the summoned are picked at random: Timothy does not yet have the ability to call specific people. Holy Ghosts are the summoned spirits of Christian martyrs. These can be an unknown Crusader or even someone famous like Joan of Arc. Partly transparent, hued an otherworldly blue, and possessed of bright, glowing eyes, these entities are twice as strong and fast as a man and immune to pain – but not harm. While they are ghosts in a sense, they are still shackled to following the laws of physics. However, they do not need their spectral organs to live as they are already dead. Therefore, a bullet is most effective at tearing a Holy Ghost's tendons than holing their heart. Maintaining a Holy Ghost is done automatically by the soul but at the expense of the body. Timothy is completely alright with one summoned, but is easily winded when he has summoned two. At three and four, he is forced to sit down, with him being pale at the latter. Having five summoned simultaneously will knock him to deathly unconsciousness and will take heavy tolls on his health. While Timothy can keep one Holy Ghost indefinitely, having two or more will strain Timothy's soul so much that after fifteen minutes, they will be forcibly dispelled. Holy Ghosts are summoned with what they had on their person the moment of their death. While her visit could potentially be a very enlightening experience, Joan of Arc would not fight at her fullest since she wore a dress during her death at the pyre. Crusaders who died in battle are more valuable in that they are usually in full gear when summoned. However, all are prized and valuable relics of the past, and some of them possess ancient knowledge no longer available in the present. It would appear that Holy Ghosts have lost much of their personality during their centuries in limbo. What they haven't lost, however, is hatred of the heathen, the unbeliever, and the heretic. Holy Ghosts, being soul-bound to their summoner, are able to communicate with Tim telepathically in pure thoughts, defeating language barriers. Holy Ghosts can be seen, heard and touched by other people. However, they don't feel much due to their slightly incorporeal properties. They mimic the natural body temperature of a human being, but have got no odor of their own. Cadwal of Godwyn is a deceased English knight who perished in the First Crusade, struck down by an arrow to his thigh, knocking him off his horse, and delivering a wound that subsequently became gangrenous and from which he did not recover. Acting as a sort of guardian angel, even he himself is not sure what is exactly at work as he shares his mind and soul with Timothy, acting as the boy's second conscience and trying to steer him towards the right path. Cadwal "sleeps," becoming completely inactive for four hours each day. This is to relieve some of the stress of Timothy's soul from having to maintain another thought-form. Cadwal does his best to time this with Timothy's regular sleeping hours. Bio: Born to two middle-class parents as the middle child of a litter of two boys and one girl, there isn't much to say about Timothy, considering his overall and overwhelming averageness which is offset only by his unique and (as he believes) God-given ability. While he was baptized, going to Church was never something routine for his family. Therefore, he sees his powers as a gift from God when they emerged when he was six years old. Like many children, he thought up an imaginary friend. It was a knight, and his young mind could only describe it as "blue" and "like glass." When he was alone, he would play with the knight, and started a little game with his older brother and younger sister when he introduced the knight to them, and they made their own imaginary friends. Little did Timothy know, however, that his siblings' imagined creations were far different to what he had, for as time went on, the knight's responses became purely his own, and Timothy slowly lost the need to parrot them. Like another person living in his head, the knight would comment on day-to-day life, and when the young Timothy eyed upon a Bible, the knight energetically pleaded the boy to read it. As little Tim read, his young mind was full of questions even from the starting book of Genesis. He would ask the knight in his head, who formally introduced himself as Cadwal of Godwyn, to explain it all for him, and he spent so many sleepless nights doing this sort of cooperative storytelling that his mother became worried at his lack of sleep and consulted a physician. On his third grade of elementary school, his family had to move elsewhere, and he was saddened by the sudden loss of friends; but Cadwal was always there and would never leave his mind. Upon his insistence, his father took him to Church one day, and was deeply happy at finally worshiping at a proper place. As he became older and thus more aware of the sheer unnaturality of his unique ability, Tim wondered if he could do more with it. Praying to God, and after consulting Cadwal, he tried to call out an angel to advise him on what to do when his parents were divorcing. However, the only being that faded into existence was not a magnificent scion of Heaven, but a short-lasting, flickering blue ghost of a woman in armor. Timothy could not but gasp "Who are you?" at the figure, who replied with a sagely "Who I am is not important. But your faith in God is," before fading back into nothingness. Encouraged by Cadwal, Timothy was henceforth convinced of his being blessed. Ever since then, he has been practicing and perfecting this unique ability of his by prayer and meditation. Speaking with wizened words, Timothy prevented his parents' divorce by driving them to tears as he preached about the sanctity and inviolability of the oaths a couple takes in their marriage ceremony, with the help of his two beloved siblings. Other: Drowning in early adolescent male hormones, Timothy wanted to masturbate once (just to try it) but was halted by Cadwal (whom he thought was sleeping), who lectured him fiercely of the value of the "seed" and how it must not be wasted.

Elle s'était endormie à la bibliothèque... encore une fois. Poppy étirait ses bras au-dessus d'elle, ses épaules éclataient de façon fantastique et un gémissement euphorique comparable au bruit d'un morse à forte pointe grondait dans sa gorge. Un sentiment groggy grossier avait dévoré son corps, son visage se sentait désagréablement gras et ses yeux péniblement lourds, et la sieste lui avait laissé le sentiment de connerie. Mais au moins elle avait assez d'énergie, la blonde se sentait comme si elle pouvait soulever une montagne ou hisser le plus grand bâtiment à jamais exister. Poppy s'est demandé à distance ce que ce serait, mais a décidé qu'elle le découvrirait tôt ou tard. Un livre ouvert posé devant elle, sur l'une des pages de départ, mais il n'y avait pas de raison de continuer à le lire - elle savait tout ce qui arriverait de toute façon, au dernier point. Yawning, Poppy a senti son ventre gronder et a décidé que, oui, elle pouvait faire avec un déjeuner. Elle s'est embrouillée dans la cafétéria et a pris des tranches sur des tranches de pizza - ok, trois pizzas, mais elle allait manger plus tard. Poppy a scanné la salle à manger, un sentiment nerveux nauséeux se lavant sur son corps et elle a balayé ses membres dans une pauvre tentative de le secouer. Quand ses yeux ont atterri sur une fille seule, elle a pensé qu'elle pourrait aussi bien. Poppy a commencé à s'approcher de la table, mais dans son anxiété, elle a commencé à se précipiter jusqu'à ce qu'elle soit à une marche rapide et quand elle s'est claquée dans la chaise, son assiette s'écrase sur la table, son élan l'a fait glisser et au sol. Malheureusement, elle a pris la chaise avec elle. La tête de Poppy rebondit du sol, éclatant de douleur, et sa hanche entra en collision avec le sol, ses genoux frappant contre la chaise. Son visage a changé la couleur de son namesake et elle a lutté à ses pieds rapidement, plaçant la chaise et assis doucement dedans, se brossant les cheveux rapidement. "Je suis Poppy." Poppy murmura rapidement, évitant les yeux de la fille et se jetant une main dehors. Elle se branlait nerveusement dans son siège et se brouillait le visage.

Name: Poppy O’Conner Age: 16 Gender: Female Personality: Poppy is an awkward girl who often says the wrong things when around people she doesn’t know well. When with friends, though, Poppy is loud, talkative, and, unfortunately, punny. She doesn’t understand the point of keeping things secret, so she has no qualms with saying exactly what is going on in her life or what of the likes if someone asks her. Poppy has the unfortunate habit of bottling up her emotions and, even when telling her “sob” story, keeps a straight face or shrugs it off when people ask her how she is feeling. The blonde has a hard time connecting with people on a personal level and when she attempts to express her sadness, she is often deterred by sympathetically distant responses. She is not particularly motivated to do anything and tries to find the easiest ways to do things. Her worst habit is procrastination and most of her work does not get done until the night before it’s due. Talent: Learner: Poppy learns new things with relative ease and has a near perfect memory where she can store all the new information. She dabbles in most genres of information and knows many random facts. Ability: Know-It-All: By pressing her hand anywhere on anything that holds information, - including people - she can absorb the information and remember it completely. However, she can absorb personal information. This gives her a higher level of intelligence than most. If she absorbs a certain martial arts or action from someone, her body can easily replicate the movements, like adoptive muscle memory. Due to absorbing psychology books and pamphlets, Poppy can easily read people by their body language. If an animal is sick? She can check for any symptoms of the million of diseases and illnesses in her knowledge. However, after absorbing too much information, Poppy gets queasy and dizzy; if she goes past that, though she never has so far, she would probably die. Bio: Poppy is an American and was born on an Air Force base in Florida. Her father is in the military and she has had to move around a lot for his work. Her parents were always busy with work – not that Poppy minded, because when they weren’t, the family was always hanging out – and so Poppy took up the habit of reading constantly. Because of her father’s work, Poppy’s dad would get deployed many times and Poppy would be stuck with her mother. It wasn’t that Poppy didn’t like her mother, in fact, Poppy adored her mother...that is before her alcoholism came back after ten years of sobriety (she quit before Poppy was born). Her mother spiraled into a pit of depression and, in turn, Poppy too had begun to feel depressed. Later on, she was diagnosed with depression and anxiety and was prescribed medicine to take. Poppy, often than not, does not take her medicine because “it makes her feel funny.” One day, when Poppy was fourteen and her father was home from deployment, the blonde girl came home to her mother crying in her bedroom, drunk as per usual, and attempting to call a rehab facility. Not knowing what to do, Poppy attempted to call her dad to help her, but he wasn’t picking up. After the police came (one of the rehab centers had called the cops on her mom to make sure she wasn’t harming herself) and Poppy finally managed to get a hold of her dad, everything just froze for Poppy. Her mother went to rehab until the week before Poppy’s fifteenth birthday, but that wasn’t what the problem was for Poppy. She discovered that, in her time of need, she was having a hard time connecting with her friends. They would tell her that “it would be alright” and that “at least your mom is getting better” but that didn’t satisfy Poppy – they felt distant. After her mom was released, Poppy’s dad got a new job in Wales and the O’Conner family jumped at the chance to go for it was “a new start.” Other: Poppy is terrified of not being able to control herself (therefore, she stays away from drugs, alcohol and such and such)

Une jeune paire s'est vite jetée sur la voie de remontage. L'ensemble de jumeaux a été conduit par la sœur, un sourire excité sur son visage, suivi par le frère, se faisant tirer par sa manche son visage était beaucoup moins exubérant. La fille prenait tout ce qu'elle pouvait avec les yeux, attrapeant des fleurs et des briques colorées, vraiment tout ce qui lui intéressait visuellement. Le garçon, bien qu'étant derrière, était celui qui regardait la route. "Hé! Je pense à la pizza aujourd'hui!" La voix claire des filles a coupé l'air avec facilité. Ses yeux brillants clignotaient de ses mots, elle exsudait la vie. "Pizza? Nous l'avons eu hier! Et la veille!" La voix de la raison était beaucoup moins excitable, même si elle ne manquait pas d'émotion. Tu ne peux avoir qu'une bonne chose après tout. "Oui! Des pizzas géniales! » Avec ça et un rire qu'elle regarda de nouveau à son frère, son visage relayant son dégoût évident pour la nourriture à venir. Il était clair qu'il pouvait simplement prendre quelque chose de lui-même à manger, mais ils savaient tous les deux que cela n'allait pas arriver. Tout comme Nathan a cassé le contact visuel pour espionner à nouveau le chemin, il a repéré le dos d'un garçon juste devant. Une tête de cheveux bruns qu'ils semblaient assez moyens, une boîte de café vide était actuellement jetée à l'heure actuelle. "Ali!" Assez d'avertissement pour provoquer une sorte d'arrêt, les chevilles d'Alice ont roulé, l'élan a porté, et les deux sont tombés en avant, s'échappant du sentier et à travers l'herbe. Elle a atterri sur son dos, tandis qu'il s'est posé sur son visage. La fille a regardé vers le haut pour voir le visage de leur barrage routier. "... euh..." Ses joues bouffaient légèrement. "Salut!"

Name: Alice and Nathan Deries Picture/Description: Alice and Nathan are a set of twins, hailing from the southern country of Spain they have sun washed complexions and dark hair. Alice, stands at nearly 5'3 while Nathan is 5'5. Both being quite slender and lithe in total build, they give of a sort of glass doll impression. Heart shaped faces and large green eyes add to this look, though admittedly large ears and thicker brows take away from it. They are two sides of a single coin, being nearly the same with some differences between them. Age: They are both 16 years of age. (Though Alice was born 23 seconds before Nathan) Gender: Alice is female, Nathan is male. Personality: Alice is a much more outgoing and perky type of person, she can be a tad overbearing and clingy if given the chance, though she usually means well. She is somewhat aloof and the sort to take things personally even if not meant to be. Kind and sweet she has her faults. Nathan is a more hushed sort of person, he keeps his lips pursed at most times, thinking things through more than not at all. Slightly awkward at times he isn't the most apt socially, but he doesn't mean to be off-putting. Has trouble being decisive, especially if the decision can result in someone being hurt. Blames himself for trouble more than anyone else. Can come off as cold but really he is a just unsure. Talent: Alice has the uncanny ability to out-eat anyone. She has come to be a bit embarrassed of it recently,. but she won some eating competitions here and there. Nathan has found he is an exceptional baseball player, pitching and batting the ball harder than anyone would have imagined he could. Ability: Alice: Legato. Nathan: Forte. Legato is the ability to absorb energy into the users body and nullify most of it. I.e they are hard to knock down. Forte is the ability to expel large amounts of energy, so, they can hit unnaturally hard. Bio: Nathan and Alice grew up in Spain for the first five years of their lives. Their father was a wealthy man, who started a mattress tycoon that sold world-wide. He moved to eventually expand his business farther, and the twins followed him always. Traveling often they lived colorful childhoods, and didn't really stay anywhere too long. Making friends here and there they always felt together, because they also always had each other. Eventually their father met another woman. The twins mother having died during their births, he had been trying his best to raise them alone. Settling down in America, the twins at age 16, have found steady ground to stay on, and a new mother to love. Their powers had awakened years ago, but they were never in one place long enough for it to become wide-spread news if ever found, so they sort of don't now how to keep a lid on them yet. Other: As expected they are nearly glued to each other. Alice is Nathan's safety blanket, and vice-versa.

Là Thisa était assis dans l'herbe de la cour, peut-être pas l'endroit le plus confortable à s'asseoir, mais il y avait cette nouveauté à profiter du soleil tout en entouré de ces petites lames de plante. Même s'ils ne faisaient que commencer, elle s'habitue déjà à la sensation et à l'ambiance générale de Saint Dymphna, au moins assez habituée à cette école pour ne pas se perdre d'une base quotidienne, donc c'est un plus. Le son distinct du papier de réunion au crayon dominait son espace local, Thisa elle-même était destinée à son propre petit projet. Sur ses genoux, il y avait un vieux carnet en spirale tatté, sans s'effondrer, il avait clairement vu un peu d'amour au cours des dernières années. Ce jour-là, le sujet de ses dessins était un petit moteur et servo-assemblage, en soi l'assemblage n'était rien de trop complexe, mais en réalité c'était une pièce plus petite à un puzzle beaucoup plus grand. Beaucoup de tremblements, la limite est fixée à 500RPM. Probablement trop faible, trouver un alliage alternatif. Sidebar trop grand, poncer 1-2 CM. Ce sont des exemples de notes écrites, toujours une pour améliorer son design Thisa allait sur ce qui existait, ou plus exactement ce qu'elle prévoyait construire un jour vu qu'elle n'a pas vraiment un moyen de machiner ces pièces. Même si elle était extrêmement concentrée sur l'emballage des ajustements, une commotion soudaine sur la passerelle a attiré les yeux de Thia loin des livres blancs, curieux dans ce qui s'est passé, elle a plié la page pour servir de marqueur pour plus tard. Livre sous le bras, elle s'est levée du mini-champ de l'herbe, pas trop consciente des taches qui auraient pu rester. De sa position loin de Thisa pouvait repérer trois personnes, l'une était un gars, moyennement pas quelqu'un de note, et intéressantment une paire de jumeaux, pas une vue quotidienne. Plus intéressant, ça ressemblait aux deux jumeaux, une fille? Peut-être que c'était une fille, était à plat sur son dos, heureusement dans l'herbe. L'autre jumeau, aussi sur l'herbe, a été rencontré avec une plante de visage malheureux, si Thisa devinait, ce jumeau pourrait être un garçon, peut-être. Thisa ne voulait pas s'impliquer, tout de suite, il était trop tôt pour dire ce qui allait se passer, et bien elle n'était pas prête pour l'interaction sociale. Au lieu de cela, la jeune fille s'est levée, quelque peu excitée, à la façon dont cela va s'éteindre.

Name: Theresa “Thisa” Thompson Age: 16 Gender: Female Personality: A fairly quiet and reserved girl, not for reasons such as shyness but from indifference. Thisa prefers to stay out of the daily affairs of others, sometimes life can be troublesome enough without bringing in someone else’s issues. That said Thisa is normal socially, friends come easily enough and a conversation is welcomed, even she can get lonely. Due to her naturally reclusive nature, Thisa is slow to anger and can be extremely patient in fact she can’t remember the last time she has ever been angry, which is what she may say. When pushed Thisa has a very harsh temper, when truly angry she can and will become quite aggressive. A good analogy would be to describe her as a stick of dynamite with a very long fuse, it'll take a while but the results would still be drastic. There one true fire way to get Thisa talking is to mention technology, its one subject she can never get enough of. Talent: Skilled Mechanic: Thisa for her age makes a great mechanic, and a small time inventor. If its physical Thisa can understand it and even reconstruct it just with a few quick glances. Her skills have also been somewhat lucrative with people coming to her for repairs on broken down items. Her prowess in mechanics don’t translate quite into computers, sure she’s competent in their operation but otherwise is about average. Ability: Finely-Tuned Mechanisms: Thisa’s ability comes around the idea of creation, she can manipulate inorganic matter into virtually any machine, and theoretically of any size. There are limits of course, to create something requires an equivalent exchange, the middle of a grass field leads to very little useable material, which limits or even completely nullifies her usefulness while a junkyard can lead to endless opportunities. Another thing the initial creation of a machine taxes the body, two factors are considered, the size of the machine and the complexity. A small pulley system has almost no affect on her stamina, something of human size would be very draining at the least, and something like a full semi truck can leave her almost comatose. There is also a limit to the number of machines that can operate at once, how many again depends on the size and complexity. Once this said limit is passed machines start to break apart, or even meet a violent end for the more volatile creations. When a machine is deassembled the matter that made it up returns back to its original form, that is unless the machine is destroyed by force. Bio: Thisa is a single child who hails for a standard middle class home. From an early age her parents pushed “constructive toys” onto her, ones such as Legos or Lincoln Logs. Her father worked as an automobile technician, and her mother an aerospace engineer, because of their own success they wanted to pass it down to their daughter. Thisa took well to the toys eventually progressing from simple plastic pieces to tool kits and personal projects. Thisa created a scrapbook filled with designs and other miscellaneous drawings, some of which became a reality. One such was a robotic arm designed for a competition, a simple middle school level one so needless to say Thisa’s arm won without contest. Moving onto the present day Thisa is a fresh transfer, Saint Dmyphna's Highschool offered great opportunities despite the cost of moving out there in the first place, and while Thisa isn’t much for people the prospect of meeting new people was still exciting in of itself.

& - Cafétéria Quelques étudiants ont attrapé la petite mésaventure de Poppy, et snigger dans le fond. Un groupe s'est levé et s'est approché de Poppy et Belle, laissant leurs propres plateaux de nourriture un peu derrière. Il y en avait cinq au total, trois femmes et deux hommes. Ils souriaient encore, mais il n'y avait pas de malice dans leurs sourires. "Hé, ça va?" l'un des garçons a dit. "C'était un putain d'accident que tu as eu." Tout près, il était évident que les cinq d'entre eux étaient des hommes de haut rang, à en juger par la couleur de leurs lacets d'identité; deux juniors, un garçon et une fille et les trois autres étaient des aînés. "Vous devriez être plus prudent," a châtié une des filles aînées, juste avant de couper le visage de Poppy dans ses mains. Quelque chose qui ressemble à une secousse d'électricité a traversé son corps pendant un moment, avant de disparaître. La fille s'est immédiatement repliée et a levé les mains en l'air. "Attendez! Avant que vous renvoyiez toute accusation de harcèlement sexuel, donnez-moi juste un moment! » Elle se tourna vers l'un de ses compagnons, un jeune homme court. "Quelques douleurs dans les genoux, la tête et les hanches, Dennis. Oh, et un peu de nausée." Les cheveux bruns juniors hochent les yeux sur Poppy pendant un moment. Il s'est approché et a tapé la main de Poppy avec un doigt, et à la fois, toute la douleur dans son corps était partie. La jeune fille sourit sciemment, tout comme ses compagnons. C'était généralement la partie où ils étaient stupéfaits. "Dites, êtes-vous deux nouvelles filles ici?" a demandé à l'aîné. & - Chemin de randonnée sur le campus Le son sonore de plusieurs pas pouvait être entendu de tout près. En venant dans la direction opposée d'Alice et Nathan, un groupe assez grand pour remplir deux salles de classe - ce qui signifie qu'ils comptaient environ quatre - quatre - marchait à travers le chemin. En fait, l'appeler marche était un mauvais nom; il serait plus approprié de décrire leur mouvement comme «marchant»; ils se déplaçaient à l'unisson et à la formation, et pas l'un d'entre eux ne s'est mis en travers de l'autre. Tout le groupe était ouvertement tendu et rigide, comme s'il craignait que quelque chose puisse apparaître et les attaquer à tout moment - ce qui pourrait être une représentation exacte de leur situation actuelle, considérant la fille à la tête du groupe: un junior court, aux cheveux foncés, avec des sacs sous ses yeux et une fronce sur son visage. Elle se moquait d'un Rubics Cube avec un peu d'ennui. Pour ceux qui n'étaient pas initiés à l'école et à ses diverses figures importantes, cela ferait une vue bizarre, mais pour ceux qui étaient familiers, la tension de la foule n'était pas seulement justifiée, mais tout à fait nécessaire. La fille à leur tête était une Règle, et elle était aussi notoirement connue pour son tempérament volatile, qui, associé à sa capacité terrifiante, était vraiment un match fait en enfer. En termes simples, une fois qu'elle perd inévitablement son sang-froid, tout le monde commence à courir. Après tout, personne ne voulait être avec Louise Sophoro une fois qu'elle s'est énervée.

Character Sheet: Name: Picture/Description: Age (At least Highschool age): Gender: Personality: Talent: Ability: Bio: Other:

Les traces de ce groupe. Quelle mauvaise nouvelle, a remarqué Cadwal. Timothy a fait une double prise entre le déversement de jumeaux à ses pieds et la foule nerveuse qui vient en chaleur derrière lui. Pensant vite, il s'accroupit, et offrit une main d'aide aux frères et sœurs assiégés. -- Hé, lève-toi, dit-il, d'une manière douce et prudente, une préoccupation évidente dans sa voix. "Louise vient, et tu ne veux pas être près d'elle." Il n'était pas nouveau chez St. Dymphna, ayant été là en première année et travaillant avec hardiesse tout au long de la deuxième année, comme tout le monde l'a fait. Maintenant, à l'âge doux de seize ans et un junior, il s'était toujours détaché de l'étrange pouvoir-politique qui courait sur le corps étudiant, et a toujours refusé les sollicitations en n'importe laquelle des parties qui le voulaient comme membre pour une raison ou une autre. Après avoir pris un chemin solitaire, Timothy passa généralement seul la plupart de son temps, soit à travers une bonne lecture, soit à contempler silencieusement dans la chapelle du campus.

Timothy “Tim” Aquinas Description: An unassuming youth with pale skin, brown hair and emerald eyes, Timothy is lean and rather thin. Thin-framed eyeglasses sit upon the bridge of his nose, windows to eyes that brighten up in a charming, childlike way when he smiles. He stands at a good 6’0” tall, and prefers simple clothing: many of his shirts are black or grey and without print, and the ones that do have only minimalistic designs. His pants and other apparel are equally unassuming. But never is he seen without his only apparent accessory: a small pendant in the shape of an elaborate Celtic crucifix of silver, hanging from his neck by a chain. Described by Cadwal as having a "cherub's melody," Timothy has a deceptively effeminate voice in manner and less so in inflection. Age: 16 Gender: Male Personality: “Not to us, O Lord, not to us, but to Your Name give glory.” The foremost thing one might notice about Timothy is his zeal. A devout Catholic, he is well-read in the Bible and zealous. And unlike some others, Timothy has taken the teachings of the Scripture to heart, making him a genuinely friendly and caring person. Love his neighbor, love his enemy? Timothy most certainly does. Honest and loyal, his care for the well-being of others extends to the spiritual: he is convinced that those of heathen faiths – especially the People of the Book But Do Not Believe – and true unbelievers must be enlightened sooner or later. Then there are the Ones Who Come in His Name but Twist His Words, like Westboro, which he finds especially despicable. Timothy is especially fond of literature, especially medieval history. He knows full well how Duke Enrique of Savoy invaded Monferatto from the Duke of Mantua as he had run out of patience with waiting for Emperor Rudolf of the Holy Roman Empire to answer his petition to have the mentioned territory transferred to the custody of his daughter, Margherita, as she was kicked out of the Mantuan Duke’s court for not having sired a child for her husband, the Duke’s late brother, before he died. Always hungry for more knowledge, his learning of this subject which he most adores is supplemented by the Holy Ghosts whom he summons and who are more than willing to answer his many, many questions. They may also be the reason why his favorite video game is Medieval II: Total War. Quite softspoken, the mildness of his words is such that people are often left cynically wondering whether or not Timothy is mocking them. The sincerity with which he prays before eating his meals is viewed by some as merely an exaggeration: a mockery of those who practice Christianity. However, Timothy does not practice deceit. What he does is honest. He believes his unique ability to summon fallen Crusaders is given to him by God. Talent: Esoteric Knowledge: Timothy is well-read in obscure history books, and can regurgitate most of what he has learned, knowledge extracted from the literary works of people Like E.B Sledge, Sir Arthur Lloyd, and Peter H. Wilson. But, ever humble, Timothy only shares what he knows when the situation calls for it. Ability: Tongue of Fallen Martyrs: Timothy can communicate with summoned Holy Ghosts telepathically, surmounting any distance and time and in pure thought, eliminating the language barrier. Cadwal is a special case, and is an exception to the rule. Legiones Ecclesiae: At his command, Timothy can call forth Holy Ghosts of the most proactive members of the Church-Militant, namely, Crusaders. Having had this unique gift since early childhood, he has improved the ability in that he can keep indefinitely one Holy Ghost and dispel them at his whim. With a whispered plea and holding a holy symbol of Christianity (like a cross, or his pendant), Timothy beckons the departed souls of those who killed and died in the name of Christ from the ether and into the worldly earth. Fading into existence, they are then at the summoner's beck and call. However, the summoned are picked at random: Timothy does not yet have the ability to call specific people. Holy Ghosts are the summoned spirits of Christian martyrs. These can be an unknown Crusader or even someone famous like Joan of Arc. Partly transparent, hued an otherworldly blue, and possessed of bright, glowing eyes, these entities are twice as strong and fast as a man and immune to pain – but not harm. While they are ghosts in a sense, they are still shackled to following the laws of physics. However, they do not need their spectral organs to live as they are already dead. Therefore, a bullet is most effective at tearing a Holy Ghost's tendons than holing their heart. Maintaining a Holy Ghost is done automatically by the soul but at the expense of the body. Timothy is completely alright with one summoned, but is easily winded when he has summoned two. At three and four, he is forced to sit down, with him being pale at the latter. Having five summoned simultaneously will knock him to deathly unconsciousness and will take heavy tolls on his health. While Timothy can keep one Holy Ghost indefinitely, having two or more will strain Timothy's soul so much that after fifteen minutes, they will be forcibly dispelled. Holy Ghosts are summoned with what they had on their person the moment of their death. While her visit could potentially be a very enlightening experience, Joan of Arc would not fight at her fullest since she wore a dress during her death at the pyre. Crusaders who died in battle are more valuable in that they are usually in full gear when summoned. However, all are prized and valuable relics of the past, and some of them possess ancient knowledge no longer available in the present. It would appear that Holy Ghosts have lost much of their personality during their centuries in limbo. What they haven't lost, however, is hatred of the heathen, the unbeliever, and the heretic. Holy Ghosts, being soul-bound to their summoner, are able to communicate with Tim telepathically in pure thoughts, defeating language barriers. Holy Ghosts can be seen, heard and touched by other people. However, they don't feel much due to their slightly incorporeal properties. They mimic the natural body temperature of a human being, but have got no odor of their own. Cadwal of Godwyn is a deceased English knight who perished in the First Crusade, struck down by an arrow to his thigh, knocking him off his horse, and delivering a wound that subsequently became gangrenous and from which he did not recover. Acting as a sort of guardian angel, even he himself is not sure what is exactly at work as he shares his mind and soul with Timothy, acting as the boy's second conscience and trying to steer him towards the right path. Cadwal "sleeps," becoming completely inactive for four hours each day. This is to relieve some of the stress of Timothy's soul from having to maintain another thought-form. Cadwal does his best to time this with Timothy's regular sleeping hours. Bio: Born to two middle-class parents as the middle child of a litter of two boys and one girl, there isn't much to say about Timothy, considering his overall and overwhelming averageness which is offset only by his unique and (as he believes) God-given ability. While he was baptized, going to Church was never something routine for his family. Therefore, he sees his powers as a gift from God when they emerged when he was six years old. Like many children, he thought up an imaginary friend. It was a knight, and his young mind could only describe it as "blue" and "like glass." When he was alone, he would play with the knight, and started a little game with his older brother and younger sister when he introduced the knight to them, and they made their own imaginary friends. Little did Timothy know, however, that his siblings' imagined creations were far different to what he had, for as time went on, the knight's responses became purely his own, and Timothy slowly lost the need to parrot them. Like another person living in his head, the knight would comment on day-to-day life, and when the young Timothy eyed upon a Bible, the knight energetically pleaded the boy to read it. As little Tim read, his young mind was full of questions even from the starting book of Genesis. He would ask the knight in his head, who formally introduced himself as Cadwal of Godwyn, to explain it all for him, and he spent so many sleepless nights doing this sort of cooperative storytelling that his mother became worried at his lack of sleep and consulted a physician. On his third grade of elementary school, his family had to move elsewhere, and he was saddened by the sudden loss of friends; but Cadwal was always there and would never leave his mind. Upon his insistence, his father took him to Church one day, and was deeply happy at finally worshiping at a proper place. As he became older and thus more aware of the sheer unnaturality of his unique ability, Tim wondered if he could do more with it. Praying to God, and after consulting Cadwal, he tried to call out an angel to advise him on what to do when his parents were divorcing. However, the only being that faded into existence was not a magnificent scion of Heaven, but a short-lasting, flickering blue ghost of a woman in armor. Timothy could not but gasp "Who are you?" at the figure, who replied with a sagely "Who I am is not important. But your faith in God is," before fading back into nothingness. Encouraged by Cadwal, Timothy was henceforth convinced of his being blessed. Ever since then, he has been practicing and perfecting this unique ability of his by prayer and meditation. Speaking with wizened words, Timothy prevented his parents' divorce by driving them to tears as he preached about the sanctity and inviolability of the oaths a couple takes in their marriage ceremony, with the help of his two beloved siblings. Other: Drowning in early adolescent male hormones, Timothy wanted to masturbate once (just to try it) but was halted by Cadwal (whom he thought was sleeping), who lectured him fiercely of the value of the "seed" and how it must not be wasted.

Alice prit la main aussi vite que possible, utilisant le nouveau support pour se tirer vers le haut. Nathan l'a fait seul, se redressant tout en frottant sa nouvelle joue endolorie. L'atterrissage sur le visage n'était pas optimal. -- Merci beaucoup! Alice a pompé la main en haut et en bas pour un coup de coeur, tout en regardant la foule qui arrive. La fille devant a porté un air autour d'elle, une qui viendrait avec la fumée d'une pensée pour être un volcan endormi. Alice essayait habituellement de se présenter, car se faire des amis rapides était quelque chose qu'elle avait grandi à faire, mais elle a tenu compte du ton d'avertissement donné, et a décidé contre elle. "Voyez où vous allez, s'il vous plaît." Nathan murmura à sa sœur, se pinçant l'épaule alors qu'il montait derrière elle, recevant une gifle sur le bras en retour, il regarda Timothée. "Merci pour l'aide, euh, je suppose." Il n'en a pas vraiment reçu, mais ce n'était la faute de personne. Il regarda en arrière pour voir le groupe d'enclos, et regarda la fille prendre le point. Alice regarda Timothy et offrit rapidement une évasion. "Cafeteria?" Elle demande simplement, en essayant d'utiliser le moins de temps possible. Ils se rapprochaient...

Name: Alice and Nathan Deries Picture/Description: Alice and Nathan are a set of twins, hailing from the southern country of Spain they have sun washed complexions and dark hair. Alice, stands at nearly 5'3 while Nathan is 5'5. Both being quite slender and lithe in total build, they give of a sort of glass doll impression. Heart shaped faces and large green eyes add to this look, though admittedly large ears and thicker brows take away from it. They are two sides of a single coin, being nearly the same with some differences between them. Age: They are both 16 years of age. (Though Alice was born 23 seconds before Nathan) Gender: Alice is female, Nathan is male. Personality: Alice is a much more outgoing and perky type of person, she can be a tad overbearing and clingy if given the chance, though she usually means well. She is somewhat aloof and the sort to take things personally even if not meant to be. Kind and sweet she has her faults. Nathan is a more hushed sort of person, he keeps his lips pursed at most times, thinking things through more than not at all. Slightly awkward at times he isn't the most apt socially, but he doesn't mean to be off-putting. Has trouble being decisive, especially if the decision can result in someone being hurt. Blames himself for trouble more than anyone else. Can come off as cold but really he is a just unsure. Talent: Alice has the uncanny ability to out-eat anyone. She has come to be a bit embarrassed of it recently,. but she won some eating competitions here and there. Nathan has found he is an exceptional baseball player, pitching and batting the ball harder than anyone would have imagined he could. Ability: Alice: Legato. Nathan: Forte. Legato is the ability to absorb energy into the users body and nullify most of it. I.e they are hard to knock down. Forte is the ability to expel large amounts of energy, so, they can hit unnaturally hard. Bio: Nathan and Alice grew up in Spain for the first five years of their lives. Their father was a wealthy man, who started a mattress tycoon that sold world-wide. He moved to eventually expand his business farther, and the twins followed him always. Traveling often they lived colorful childhoods, and didn't really stay anywhere too long. Making friends here and there they always felt together, because they also always had each other. Eventually their father met another woman. The twins mother having died during their births, he had been trying his best to raise them alone. Settling down in America, the twins at age 16, have found steady ground to stay on, and a new mother to love. Their powers had awakened years ago, but they were never in one place long enough for it to become wide-spread news if ever found, so they sort of don't now how to keep a lid on them yet. Other: As expected they are nearly glued to each other. Alice is Nathan's safety blanket, and vice-versa.

Belle clignait comme une fille semblait apparaître hors de nulle part et s'écraser dans sa vie... littéralement. Grand-yeux et perplexe, Belle leva un sourcil à la fille lorsqu'elle offrit une main et se présenta comme Poppy. ...Quoi... une personne étrange. Un petit rire poussa dans son estomac et s'échappa à travers ses lèvres et elle leva la main vers sa bouche comme pour l'arrêter. Elle s'arrêta cependant alors qu'un groupe de hauts fonctionnaires s'approchait de ses camarades de classe. "Je ne suis pas... Bien que je suppose que je ne suis jamais en classe assez longtemps pour que quelqu'un me connaisse vraiment." Elle est revenue, en râlant. Elle avait au moins vu la plupart de ces gens, mais elle ne connaissait pas leurs noms ou beaucoup d'eux. Les pouvoirs n'étaient pas tellement choquants pour elle, mais elle ne pouvait pas dire la même chose pour Poppy. Pourtant, même si elle avait passé un an ici, elle a toujours des problèmes avec ses pouvoirs. De plus, ne pas entrer en première année avait des inconvénients. En ce qui concerne les pouvoirs, elle était encore en deuxième année. Elle se retourna vers Poppy et sourit, un sourire doux et ludique. "C'est un plaisir de vous rencontrer, Poppy. Je suis Belle." Elle s'est présentée, puis a fait signe au groupe près d'eux. Une fois que cela a été fait, elle est revenue à sa pizza, se farcissant le visage, de petits morceaux de rouge se formant autour de sa bouche. "Yoh rike pitha thoo?" (Tu aimes aussi la pizza?) Elle a demandé à Poppy, sa bouche pleine.

Name: Isabelle "Belle" Castillo Age: 17 Gender: Female (Though she has been mistaken for a male.) Personality: Artistic and bubbly, Belle tends to get on people's nerves. There are some people who also say she's a bit bi-polar as she can go from being happy and bubbly, to suddenly running off to do something with a blank stare on her face. She never likes to sit still and loves meeting new people and making new friends. She can't stand sweet foods and she hates, 'perfect' people. Talent: Artist: Belle is good at all facets of the arts; literature, digital and traditional medias, and music. Ability: People Whisperer: Belle can use her artistic abilites, music, paint, literature or otherwise, to make people feel a certain way. In this, she can impart emotions on to the person viewing, hearing, or touching her art. Once the art has been created, she no longer has control over it, though the art will lose it's power within a day or two. Bio: Belle is the daughter of a wealthy family and is treated as a princess. However, she has other plans. She hates the dresses they put her in and the things they make her do. She'd much rather spend her time doing art, listening to her imaginary friend, "Muse." After a fight with her parents, Belle ran away from home, choosing to stay at a nearby school. Her parents, unable to bring their daughter back, reluctantly decided to fund her and now she will occasionally go home to visit with the promise that they won't try to hook her up with a 'prince' and she won't do any art. Other: ...Uh... Belle isn't afraid to speak her mind. At all. :| OH, and she has a pet cat named Kiri. He's a fat, black and white cat that lives in her room.

Ils sont venus en un clin d'œil. Un moment, calme relatif dans la cafétéria. Le suivant, le pep et le chaos, enveloppés d'extérieurs charismatiques. Le Comité de l'Esprit de St. Dymphna. Ils sont venus, se moquant et riant et applaudissant, engageant tous les étudiants qu'ils ont vus. Ils étaient vêtus de t-shirts lumineux de l'école avec de la peinture frottée sur leur visage dans les couleurs de l'école. Pour les nouveaux arrivants, ils les reconnaissaient comme les hommes de la classe supérieure qui les avaient applaudis et jetés des streamers quand la nouvelle note est entrée pour le premier jour. Les camarades de classe plus âgés les verraient probablement comme les parasites accueillants irritants, mais ils ne s'en souciaient pas. Leur chef, Aila Duquesne. Elle a sauté le long, souriant, une épaisse queue de poneys balayant à chaque pas. Après elle, il y avait environ neuf autres étudiants, tous des juniors et des seniors, qui essayaient tout aussi dur de rallier les nouveaux. Aila s'est promène pendant un moment avant de monter sur une table, en mouvementant pour que ses partenaires se calment. "Bonjour à tout le monde, s'il vous plaît!" Elle a appelé, sa voix un peu plus forte que ce qui serait attendu, portant clairement à chaque coin de la grande pièce. Elle a souri. "Maintenant, avant que quelqu'un me descende d'ici, j'aimerais juste annoncer que nous espérons voir tous les jeunes gens à la fête d'intro ce soir! Croyez-moi, c'est une fête que vous voudrez assister." Une sournoise qui savait s'éclaircir dans l'œil. "Quant aux autres, bienvenue!" Aila n'a pas eu beaucoup de temps pour en dire plus, alors qu'une enseignante est venue la faire sortir de la table, grondant quelque chose au sujet de "Respect de la propriété de l'école..." et "Publicité d'événements hors de l'école sur le terrain." Le reste du comité de l'Esprit a quitté la cafétéria en quête d'un endroit qu'ils n'avaient pas encore touché. Il était assez important, après tout, d'obtenir le plus de nouveaux arrivants possible à cette fête. Mieux vaut qu'ils découvrent l'"excentricité" de l'école là-bas plutôt que de découvrir par eux-mêmes et flippant à ce sujet. En tout cas, elle a vu un peu de foule autour de la fin d'une table et s'est déplacée vers elle, voyant quelques visages familiers dans le groupe. "Hé! Ça va là-bas?" elle a demandé comme l'image d'une fille malhonnête est venu en vue. Cependant, il semblait que quelques-uns des membres du groupe l'avaient déjà couvert. Nudging le garçon aîné, elle murmurait, "Petite risquée faisant cela pendant la journée, vous ne pensez pas? Je ne veux pas les effrayer trop tôt..."

Name: Aila Duquesne (pronounced 'Doo-kaine') Gender: Female Age: 17 Skill: Aila has an incredible voice. With uncanny range and crystal clarity at any volume, she can out-sing and out-speak any competition. Ability: Mockingbird. Aila can flawlessly imitate any sound she's heard before, especially voices. If she hears your voice once, she can replicate it perfectly. She can also use several voices at a time, making it sound like whatever she's saying is being said by multiple people. However, this puts a lot of strain on her voice and doesn't last too long before ending in sputtering coughs. Her voice carries unnaturally far, and she is able to throw her voice (make it sound like it’s coming from somewhere else). Her power is very much give little, take little. It has little consequence other than losing her voice/dizziness when overused, but isn’t exactly taking down any buildings either. Personality: Aila is a lighthearted, fun girl who’s quite easy to get along with. She’s outgoing and confident, socially adept and mischievous, making fast friends and able to laugh at pretty much anything. She’s sarcastic to a definite fault, but can take on a mothering nature when her loved ones are hurting. Otherwise, she likes innocently poking fun at those she likes and playing tricks on people using her ability. Bio: Aila was born and raised in the French quarter of New Orleans. Her parents were a happy couple who owned a dance studio. Her father was skilled in dance, while her mother was a skilled piano player, and Aila fit right into the family with her silken voice. Her childhood was happy and relatively uneventful, save for the many vocal competitions and recitals she was entered into throughout her childhood. She blossomed in competitions and practice with her mother, and her father taught her to dance (she wasn’t fantastic at it, and it was more a bonding exercise than anything.) Other: Aila has a hard time not showing off her abilities during the day; she’d happily sit somewhere doing parlour tricks to impress people all day, so long as someone got a laugh out of it. She also wants to be an announcer for school events, loves birds and can’t cook for shite.

"Oh, je suis bien." Poppy a insisté pour les autres, son visage devenant de plus en plus rouge. Elle était nouvelle? Oui. Elle devrait dire ça? Y avait-il peut-être une sorte de bizutage que ces étudiants pourraient faire? Poppy avait entendu parler de bizutage dans d'autres écoles et l'idée lui faisait très peur. À sa dernière école, il y avait le terrible Freshmen Friday... où ils ont largué des fraises dans des poubelles. Souriant poliment et étroitement, Poppy lui hoche la tête à contrecœur. Elle s'est tournée vers la fille qu'elle a rejointe, sa mortification a doublé au fait que cette fille l'a vue tomber. C'est... "Yoh rike putha thoo?" Poppy s'est cogné dans son siège, essayant de comprendre la fille avant de hanter exubérantement. Elle avait quelque chose en commun avec la fille – pizza! Des traits communs mènent à l'amitié. Et, Poppy a lu quelque part, si deux parlent de quelqu'un ou quelque chose qu'ils détestent tous les deux, ils sont plus susceptibles de devenir amis. Qu'est-ce que tu détestes? Je déteste le sable, l'épicéa et les araignées. Il y avait aussi une fille nommée Samantha dans mon ancienne école et c'était une vraie salope. Quelle pourrait être sa réponse, Poppy ne savait pas, parce qu'à ce moment-là, les gens ont fait irruption dans la cafétéria, les visages peints et applaudissants. Poppy s'est presque jetée hors de son siège par surprise, mais a réussi à se sauver l'embarras en s'accrochant sur la table. Après le discours de la fille – un briseur de règles, apparemment – fait, Poppy a failli mourir d'excitation et de nervosité. Une fête? Devrions-nous y aller? – Poppy a demandé, en regardant sa compagne de table avant qu'elle ne s'en prenne à elle. Je veux dire, pas que nous faisons quoi que ce soit ensemble. Ce n'était qu'une hypothèse. Mon père disait, et je suis presque sûr que tout le monde l'a fait aussi, que quand tu penses que tu fais un cul de toi et moi. Désolé, je ne devrais pas supposer ou je vais nous faire des culs. Poppy a gâché sauvagement sur le côté comme pour « grincer » et lever un sourcil, en prenant une bouchée rapide de sa pizza.

Name: Poppy O’Conner Age: 16 Gender: Female Personality: Poppy is an awkward girl who often says the wrong things when around people she doesn’t know well. When with friends, though, Poppy is loud, talkative, and, unfortunately, punny. She doesn’t understand the point of keeping things secret, so she has no qualms with saying exactly what is going on in her life or what of the likes if someone asks her. Poppy has the unfortunate habit of bottling up her emotions and, even when telling her “sob” story, keeps a straight face or shrugs it off when people ask her how she is feeling. The blonde has a hard time connecting with people on a personal level and when she attempts to express her sadness, she is often deterred by sympathetically distant responses. She is not particularly motivated to do anything and tries to find the easiest ways to do things. Her worst habit is procrastination and most of her work does not get done until the night before it’s due. Talent: Learner: Poppy learns new things with relative ease and has a near perfect memory where she can store all the new information. She dabbles in most genres of information and knows many random facts. Ability: Know-It-All: By pressing her hand anywhere on anything that holds information, - including people - she can absorb the information and remember it completely. However, she can absorb personal information. This gives her a higher level of intelligence than most. If she absorbs a certain martial arts or action from someone, her body can easily replicate the movements, like adoptive muscle memory. Due to absorbing psychology books and pamphlets, Poppy can easily read people by their body language. If an animal is sick? She can check for any symptoms of the million of diseases and illnesses in her knowledge. However, after absorbing too much information, Poppy gets queasy and dizzy; if she goes past that, though she never has so far, she would probably die. Bio: Poppy is an American and was born on an Air Force base in Florida. Her father is in the military and she has had to move around a lot for his work. Her parents were always busy with work – not that Poppy minded, because when they weren’t, the family was always hanging out – and so Poppy took up the habit of reading constantly. Because of her father’s work, Poppy’s dad would get deployed many times and Poppy would be stuck with her mother. It wasn’t that Poppy didn’t like her mother, in fact, Poppy adored her mother...that is before her alcoholism came back after ten years of sobriety (she quit before Poppy was born). Her mother spiraled into a pit of depression and, in turn, Poppy too had begun to feel depressed. Later on, she was diagnosed with depression and anxiety and was prescribed medicine to take. Poppy, often than not, does not take her medicine because “it makes her feel funny.” One day, when Poppy was fourteen and her father was home from deployment, the blonde girl came home to her mother crying in her bedroom, drunk as per usual, and attempting to call a rehab facility. Not knowing what to do, Poppy attempted to call her dad to help her, but he wasn’t picking up. After the police came (one of the rehab centers had called the cops on her mom to make sure she wasn’t harming herself) and Poppy finally managed to get a hold of her dad, everything just froze for Poppy. Her mother went to rehab until the week before Poppy’s fifteenth birthday, but that wasn’t what the problem was for Poppy. She discovered that, in her time of need, she was having a hard time connecting with her friends. They would tell her that “it would be alright” and that “at least your mom is getting better” but that didn’t satisfy Poppy – they felt distant. After her mom was released, Poppy’s dad got a new job in Wales and the O’Conner family jumped at the chance to go for it was “a new start.” Other: Poppy is terrified of not being able to control herself (therefore, she stays away from drugs, alcohol and such and such)

Belle a failli cracher la pizza dans sa bouche quand Aila et son'squad' sont arrivés aussi fort et flashy que jamais. Elle s'est branlée, secouant la tête. Pour une école qui avait de telles capacités, être flashy autour de nouveaux élèves était la norme. Elle se souvient de sa première année ici quand ce groupe l'a à peu près attaquée. C'est à ce moment-là qu'elle savait que quelque chose se passait. Quelque chose. Après la fête, elle avait eu une meilleure idée de ce que c'était. Elle clignait, se souvenant que Poppy lui avait posé une question. Qu'est-ce qu'elle déteste? C'est une question étrange. "Je... euh... Je ne suis pas sûr. Je crois... Je n'aime pas... Je n'aime pas les aliments sucrés... c'est... c'est tout, je suppose. Je n'aime pas les films d'horreur non plus. Je ne m'en sors pas bien avec l'effraction, je suppose." J'ai dit que je devinais beaucoup... Elle a cligné quand Poppy a parlé de la fête. Elle avait presque oublié que ce n'était pas déjà arrivé cette année. Il serait intéressant d'aller de nouveau regarder les visages des nouveaux étudiants, d'observer plutôt que de participer. "Nous devrions y aller." Elle répondit, souriant brillamment à Poppy, ignorant complètement le fait que Poppy avait vomi mot vomir sur elle. "Sentez-vous libre d'assumer. Même si tu es un cul, ça ne changera pas à quel point tu es belle. » Elle m'a répondu en rigolant. Puis, arrêté, soudainement réalisé ce qu'elle avait dit. "C'était mieux dans ma tête. Bref, un cul ou un gentil, je crois que tous les humains ont du mérite. Je ne pense pas qu'être un cul c'est tout ce qu'il y a de mal... » Elle a ajouté, plus prudent avec ses mots cette fois-ci. -- Mais oui, nous devrions aller à cette fête. Elle a fini et a pris une autre bouchée de sa pizza.

Name: Isabelle "Belle" Castillo Age: 17 Gender: Female (Though she has been mistaken for a male.) Personality: Artistic and bubbly, Belle tends to get on people's nerves. There are some people who also say she's a bit bi-polar as she can go from being happy and bubbly, to suddenly running off to do something with a blank stare on her face. She never likes to sit still and loves meeting new people and making new friends. She can't stand sweet foods and she hates, 'perfect' people. Talent: Artist: Belle is good at all facets of the arts; literature, digital and traditional medias, and music. Ability: People Whisperer: Belle can use her artistic abilites, music, paint, literature or otherwise, to make people feel a certain way. In this, she can impart emotions on to the person viewing, hearing, or touching her art. Once the art has been created, she no longer has control over it, though the art will lose it's power within a day or two. Bio: Belle is the daughter of a wealthy family and is treated as a princess. However, she has other plans. She hates the dresses they put her in and the things they make her do. She'd much rather spend her time doing art, listening to her imaginary friend, "Muse." After a fight with her parents, Belle ran away from home, choosing to stay at a nearby school. Her parents, unable to bring their daughter back, reluctantly decided to fund her and now she will occasionally go home to visit with the promise that they won't try to hook her up with a 'prince' and she won't do any art. Other: ...Uh... Belle isn't afraid to speak her mind. At all. :| OH, and she has a pet cat named Kiri. He's a fat, black and white cat that lives in her room.