- Posting Speed
- Multiple posts per day
- Online Availability
- 8:00 AM - 4:00 PM
- Writing Levels
- Prestige
- Preferred Character Gender
- Male
- Primarily Prefer Female
- Genres
- Political intrigue, fantasy, futuristic, sci fi lite, superheroes, historical fiction, alternate universes. Smittings of romance, but only as side plot.
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Name | Abel R. Tripel
Age | 26
Brief Overview | Abel is bright, dynamic, and full of laughter and life. He's painfully charismatic, but also is a businessman through and through, and often sees people for their worth to him. He's cunning, probably too smart for his own good, and is very good at getting what he wants. He's a courageous person though, and is always willing to stand up for what he believes in, though he doesn't believe in much, least of all the goodness in people. His entire life is lived with a healthy dose of skepticism and he doesn't readily trust others. He often accepts that everything will just be better if he does it himself, instead of trying to delegate tasks. As such, he obsesses with his work, often at the expense of his personal life.
As people go, he's pretty straight laced, but always follows through on his word.
Growing up as the only child to a single father, also a lawyer, in Miami, Florida, Abel was pushed from a young age to achieve greatness—and he delivered in fold. At twenty-one, he was the youngest student in his university's history to pass the bar exam. He went on to work for a large, illustrious law firm as a prosecuting attorney in the city, a positioned he has maintained since present day. He is prone to acting a bit childish outside of the courtroom and law office because he never really got his wild years out of his system. His charisma fails him when he's around a woman he really admires, leaving him a blathering idiot, and he's deathly afraid of any spider bigger than a half dollar.
Age | 26
Brief Overview | Abel is bright, dynamic, and full of laughter and life. He's painfully charismatic, but also is a businessman through and through, and often sees people for their worth to him. He's cunning, probably too smart for his own good, and is very good at getting what he wants. He's a courageous person though, and is always willing to stand up for what he believes in, though he doesn't believe in much, least of all the goodness in people. His entire life is lived with a healthy dose of skepticism and he doesn't readily trust others. He often accepts that everything will just be better if he does it himself, instead of trying to delegate tasks. As such, he obsesses with his work, often at the expense of his personal life.
As people go, he's pretty straight laced, but always follows through on his word.
Growing up as the only child to a single father, also a lawyer, in Miami, Florida, Abel was pushed from a young age to achieve greatness—and he delivered in fold. At twenty-one, he was the youngest student in his university's history to pass the bar exam. He went on to work for a large, illustrious law firm as a prosecuting attorney in the city, a positioned he has maintained since present day. He is prone to acting a bit childish outside of the courtroom and law office because he never really got his wild years out of his system. His charisma fails him when he's around a woman he really admires, leaving him a blathering idiot, and he's deathly afraid of any spider bigger than a half dollar.
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Name | Anine Greyhart
Age | 25
Brief Overview | Anine is, in a lot of ways, the very essence of self control. Hard working, diligent and focused, she isn't terribly fun at parties, but she gets the job done and doesn't complain about doing it. Raised in Philadelphia, the only kid to a police chief, desperate for a boy, she didn't have a terribly average childhood. By thirteen, she'd never had a sleep over, didn't actually know what the Girl Scouts were and the only dress she owned was for funerals, but she knew the penal code by heart, could recite a man his Miranda rights and could hit the bullseye on a target from twenty yards away.
A life of law enforcement was practically written into her genetic code. It was no wonder, then, that she managed to make detective only a few years into her career. The transfer to New York City came shortly after, when Anine requested a change of pace. There, she was partnered with a man named Gavin Clemmons. While their start was rough, Gavin and Anine became surprisingly fast friends, and even better partners - their record of collars nearly unblemished.
"Yes, hello," Abel stepped up to the counter, "I'm Abel Tripel, here to see…" but he didn't even have a chance to finish before the woman burst into laughter.
"Of course! You must be here to see Roy. He speaks of you often, Abel. He tells everyone who will listen about his son in New York—a lawyer, right? Anyways, just sign in here," she continued, passing the clipboard over the desk. Signing both him and Anine in, he handed it back to her as she gave quick directions to his father's room. It was only a stone's throw away, yet when he turned to follow her directions, it felt like a grueling hundred miles. Each step became slower and more lethargic than the previous, and his heart was thumping in his ears so violently he was actually beginning to feel dizzy. The door was left propped open and Abel just paused there a moment, right at the corner where he couldn't see in and took a second to collect his thoughts.
Finally, he reached out and gently knocked on the doorframe. "Dad?"
The man was sitting in a chair by the window until he would be inevitably helped back in to bed. In the bright, summer sunlight, his hair was snowy and skin like a wax dummy, crudely carved with tools that were too sharp. His head was in constant motion as if agreeing with sentiments no-one else could hear, or perhaps the ruminations of his own mind, mulling over a lifetime that was drawing to a close.
On his dresser stood many photographs, including a black and white photograph of him in much younger form and, on his knee, a young boy… Abel, unmistakably, no older than four, holding up a huge slice of birthday cake. When his eyes flicked between the two, his father and the picture of his more youthful self, he understood why people called time a thief. It stole so much, just slowly, until the last grain would fall from his personal hourglass.
"Abel?" the man turned in his chair, "Abel! Well, come on in, s-s-sit down. Don't just stand there like, like a lump."
Whether or not his father remembered him, Abel owed it to himself to face him. To see him... before it was too late, and he couldn't anymore. He had said so himself, and she knew in the back of his mind, at least, he would remember that. Finally, Abel took the step and knocked on the door, stepping inside and smiling faintly, Anine followed after him, reaching down to take hold of his hand with a reassuring squeeze.
His father sat near the window, small and fragile in appearance, a palsy-like quiver to him. Over his lap was draped a woolen blanket, his hands resting over it, fingers gnarled and swollen, the hands of a man who, despite being behind a desk, had worked all his life, the way that all men had, once upon a time. She could almost imagine him, fixing things around the house or out in the yard... building, repairing, creating...
Keeping close to the door, feeling suddenly as if she were invading in a very personal, special moment, which wasn't entirely unreasonable, all things considered Anine released him, "Go on." She murmured, gently, nodded to Abel, and gesturing to the chair across from the elderly man.
Her eyes then moved to the pictures on the dresser and moving closer to them, she inspected them, smiling brightly. This was his world... the world that he was so hesitant to let anyone into. Yet she had somehow, someway gotten lucky enough to be invited to be a part of it. As she picked up one of the frames and looked down at the little boy inside, she felt her eyes prickle with sudden tears.