Character Storage

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

Thaniel Weston

"Oh these? They're just....decorations!"

❖ You're just imagining things ❖

Basics

NAME:
Thaniel Weston

ID:
Warlock

AGE:
23

GENDER:
Male

ORIENTATION:
Pansexual, homoromantic

SPELLBOOK:
Crystal Magic
Save Travel Spells
Protection Spell
Study Spells
Health Potion
Good Fortune Ritual
Truth Spell
Lavendar Letters

FAMILIAR SPECIES:
Will be a dragon.

FAMILIAR INFO:
A beautiful dragon that captured his attention the moment they met. More will be discovered IC.

❖ Just your average warlock ❖

Appearance

Thaniel is slight by nature, always being mostly skin and bones. What muscle he does have is lightly defined, hair a smokey lavendar grey that often sat wild on his head and falling into his eyes. Thaniel prefers dark clothes, usually black, chokers and can almost always be paired with his favorite wide brim hat. When he turned seventeen he had his canines filed down to points resembling that of a vampire and has a small crescent moon tattooed on his inner right wrist. His ears are pierced, his tongue and he has a stud in his nose.

HAIR:
Smokey Grey

EYES:
Black

HEIGHT:
5'5"

❖ You wouldn't understand ❖

Personality

❖ It's not what you think ❖

Interview

What is your family like? What are their names? How many siblings do you have?
I was orphaned as a child. I don't remember my birth parents but when I was ten Rowina adopted me. She was....less of a mother and more of a tutor but she was family yknow?

How did you meet your familiar? Are they an animal or a magical creature?
Well, I haven't met mine yet. No one's chosen me and well, Rowina was never fan of familiars. I've been busy with work so I really haven't had a chance to look into finding one.

How do you feel about trivies?
Rowina hated them, called them wastes of space. I'd like to think she's wrong but, well, what exactly do they do?

Where do you live and what do you live in?
I live in uptown Stonehaven, next to Wicked Coffee. It's Rowina's old loft but I can't get myself to leave.

What do you do for a living?
Well uh...that...that's complicated...eheheh...

What is the greatest hardship you've ever faced?
....When she left me. I...I still don't know why she left or where she went but, one day I woke up and she was just....gone.

What has been your happiest moment?
My first spellbook! Rowina gave it to me when I turned thirteen so I could start writing in my spells. I still have it actually! Its around here somewhere....

What are your pet peeves?
"Answer."

What do you fear?
I...I fear being abandoned and forgotten....I don't want it to happen again...

Baine

"You're an idiot, why do I even bother?"

∾ Baby, be my lover ∾

Basics

NAME:
Baine

GENDER:
Male

SPECIES:
Black Cat

MASTER:
Oran Gallagher - Warlock

∾ Baby, be my friend ∾

Appearance

Baine stand at a rather average 5 foot and 7 inches. Body lithe and lightly muscled, Baine is naturally light on his feet. Thick brows hang over bright golden eyes that hold boredom more often than not. Full lips always have something smart to say, ears holding two diamond studs, nose pierced on a whim one day. Skin is a deep bronze that's as smooth as butter as softer than silk.

HAIR:
Black, trimmed on the sides with wild curls left atop his head.

EYES:
Brown

HEIGHT:
5'7"

∾ Baby, be my slave ∾

Personality

∾ And I'll love you til the end. ∾

Interview

Do you like your master? How do they treat you?
Oran is okay I suppose. He treats me decently, though he has this strange thing about sex I just don't understand.. He stares at my ass a lot and thinks I don't notice. I notice.

How did you meet your master?
I saw him one day, he looked interesting so I tested him. Any moron can put out food but he seemed....happy about it. Hmm, I followed him around for a bit, saw how he reacted and he didn't seem to mind. Helped that he's hot, but when I chose him he smiled like he was the happiest guy on earth.....

How do you feel about trivies?
They give me food so they're not so bad. Not sure why people despise them when they're so harmless.

What is the greatest hardship you've ever faced?
The first Witch I chose rejected me. Perhaps I waited too long or I didn't read the signs right, but when I appeared to her, to choose her, she had a familiar with her, a snow owl that looked dumber than rocks but...whatever.

What has been your happiest moment?
When Oran accepted me. Say anything and you'll regret it.

What are your pet peeves?
People touching my tail | Strangers trying to pet me | dogs barking | loud people in the morning....the list goes on.

What do you fear?
.....Being abandoned.....Can we change the topic now?

Layland Parker

"What a sight for sore eyes.....Get it! Ahahaha"

❖ Why so serious? ❖

Basics

NAME:
Layland Michael Parker

ID:
Warlock

AGE:
20

GENDER:
Male

ORIENTATION:
Bisexual

SPELLBOOK:
Crystal Magic
Save Travel Spells
Protection Spell
Study Spells
Health Potion
Healing Rituals
Text to Speech Spell
Heightened Senses Spell

FAMILIAR SPECIES:
Layland has yet to choose, or be chosen by, a familiar and he's really in no rush to find one either.

FAMILIAR INFO:
TBD

❖ Live a little! ❖

Appearance

Layland stands at a full five foot nine inches, body well muscled from years of training. His skin is a soft brown, freckles decorating his face -- a feature that had once been a source of great insecurity. By now he has learned to embrace his speckled face, hair kept short, though clearly holding soft curls. He has a large smile that brightens his whole face with full pink lips and naturally elfish ears. He has a young face naturally, mostly do to his large eyes and soft jawline, but hey if he looks this good now that's only means good things for the future right?

HAIR:
Chocolate Brown

EYES:
Brown

HEIGHT:
5'9"

❖ To live is to fight ❖

Personality

❖ I'm blind not dead. ❖

Interview

What is your family like? What are their names? How many siblings do you have?
I'm an orphan....technically. My mums died by the time I was fourteen and I went to live with ma Nan. She's something else that's for sure. Mum was a _____ in her teens, taught me that everyone deserves a fightin' chance. Mam met her durin that and well, the rest is history. She was a trivie, but she had a heart of gold. Mum and Nan kept her secret though, no one would understand. Mam got cancer when I turned eight, tried to fight it as long as she could. Mum did what she could but no amount of magic could save her. She died when I was ten and Mum disappeared when I turned fourteen. I think the RMC got her. They were never fans of her 'work'. Nan thinks they stole her, have her somewhere. I think they killed her. I still remember coming home from school that day....the house was-.....Nan's holding on to false hope.

How did you meet your familiar? Are they an animal or a magical creature?
I don't have one, but maybe one day. We'll see!.......Get it! Oh I crack myself up!

How do you feel about trivies?
Honestly? The way they're treated is disgusting. So what if they can't use magic. Personally I think we rely on it too much. Most think they're akin to animals, or lesser than us just because they can't wave a wand an make shit disappear. It's sad there's so few of 'em. One day I hope they'll get to live real lives instead of having to feel ashamed of who they are...

Where do you live and what do you live in?
I have a small apartment on Greene Street, but sometimes I like to stay at the bunker, visit the fam yknow.

What do you do for a living?
Nothing anymore...

What is the greatest hardship you've ever faced?
Well I'm sure my answer won't shock anyone. But I mean, losing your eyesight isn't exactly easy. Don't really realize how dependent you are on something until ya can't use it haha. It's been a learning curve that's for sure. The gang keeps sayin' I need a familiar, yknow, help me out around the house but I'd prefer to bond for real rather than out of my own convenience.

What has been your happiest moment?
Joining the FMP. For the first time I felt like I was actually makin' a difference. Sure its not by conventional means but their methods have shown results. The ends don't always justify the means but....sometimes they do....

What are your pet peeves?
People assuming I can't help myself. I'm blind not an invalid.

What do you fear?
Being useless. I may not see you but I can still help, yknow.....somehow.....

Makai

"I'd give my life just for a day by your side."

∾ Hold my heart, it's beating for you anyway. ∾

Basics

NAME:
Makai

GENDER:
Male

SPECIES:
Fennec Fox

MASTER:
Soon to be Leon "Gravedigger" O'Rielly

∾ What if I can't forget you? ∾

Appearance

Makai is tiny, even by human standards, at a pathetic four feet and barely grazing ten inches. He's thin with lithe but relatively unseen muscle. Despite his size he is strong and very fast. He has a mess of white wavy hair, large black eyes and very prominent ears -- much like his natural form. His skin is pale with a rosy hue to it, lips a dusty rose color often set in an unassuming smile.

HAIR:
Messy white waves, usually rather unkempt.

EYES:
Large black and doe-like

HEIGHT:
4'9 3/4"

∾ I'll burn your name into my throat. ∾

Personality

∾ I'll be the fire that'll catch you. ∾

Interview

Do you like your master? How do they treat you?
We haven't met yet, not in person. But I've seen him out in the forests. I already know he'll be amazing!

How did you meet your master?
I've seen him occasionally, but he doesn't see me, yet at least. I'm going to find him soon though! He'll take me as his familiar no matter what! I won't give up until he does. It's meant to be.

How do you feel about trivies?
What's that word mean?

What is the greatest hardship you've ever faced?
Everything is a struggle in the forest. You humans sure do complain about a lot huh. No predators hunting you, no fighting for food, you're always clothed and housed. No one eats your parents when you're a baby either! Must be nice....

What has been your happiest moment?
When I first saw him. He's so calm and tall!...and pretty....really pretty.

What are your pet peeves?
Fighting for food! I killed it! It's mine!

What do you fear?
.....I don't want to be rejected. I know I can be a good familiar! I just know it!

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

☾ Jasper Read

☾

N/A

Name:

Jasper Read

Nickname:

Jaz

Date of birth:

June 28th

Age:

23

Zodiac:

Cancer

Gender:

Female

Sexuality:

Bisexual

Power:

Empath I Empathetic Psychic Ability

- The user can fully interpret and replicate the emotions, moods, and temperaments of others

Emotion Detection

- Able to feel the emotions of those in her immediate area

Empathetic Echoes

- Able to connect with the residual energies of a location. i.e. if Jasper were to go to a battlefield, she would be able to (mentally) relive the events of those that died there due to their emotional energy.
- Able to emotionally receive and send glimpses of memories, or mental imagery associated with certain emotional states current or past. i.e. able to trigger a memory w/in a person based on what emotion is tied to it.

Emotion Manipulation

- Jasper can influence emotions of others via touch. It is not absolute. i.e. if someone is angry, she can counter it with a feeling of calmness. It does not make the person happy, but will ease their immediate anger.

Clairempathy

- Able to sense emotions of others over long distances (cities, states, countries). This only happens when she forms a deep emotional connection with that person.

Limitations:

Easily overwhelmed by the emotions of others, especially when they are in heightened agitated states. i.e. anger, sadness, etc.

Struggles differentiating between her emotions and those of others.

Her abilities take a deep toll on her mental health.

Touch, though gives her the ability to manipulate others, overstimulates Jasper's senses.

Appearance:

Jasper is of average height, a whopping five foot, six inches. Her skin is a warm golden dark with full pouted lips often coated in a seamless layer of black lipstick. Trimmed brows are usually left pinched over apathetic silver orbs. Her hair is long, falling over the left side of her face and down to about her middle back. The right side is shaved down, exposing the many piercings along her ear.

Hair:

Jasper's hair is long, sleek and a deep chocolate brown. The right side of her head is shaved down, a style she's kept since grade school. Occasionally she'll add a design in, but ever since transferring to Mosshurst, she's kept it short and simple.

Eyes:

Jasper's eyes are a stunning metallic grey. They were passed down through her great grandmother and glow an ethereal silver when in a highly agitated state or when her powers are activated.

Height:

5ft 6

Build:

Athletic build with rounded hips and visible curves -- all of which is hidden beneath baggy tshirts and leather jackets

Personality:

Likes:

➤ Solitude
➤ Quiet
➤Music
➤Rain
➤Thunderstorms
➤Meditation
➤Herbology
➤Crystal work

Dislikes:

➤Touch
➤Herself / Her powers
➤Crowds
➤Loud sounds
➤Heightened emotion | Anger, pain, joy
➤Bright lights
➤Nosy people
➤Most men
➤Mosshurst

Background:

Jasper was born in your average town, outside of your average city with average people. There was nothing in particular that was notable about where she lived nor how she grew up. The one thing that stood out about Jasper, compared to other children, was how wild her emotions were. Whatever those around her were feeling, she would emulate. This led to several confused and angry parents as; should one of them get angry and yell, Jasper would devolve into a tantrum.

Her grandmother was her favorite person, recognizing the signs early on. Unfortunately, the woman had a strained relationship with her son, Jasper's father, due to her 'hocus pocus' as he called it. He never understood Jasper, often blaming her wild imagination and his mother's 'insane teachings' on the way his daughter acted. Her grandmother's was the only place Jasper ever felt accepted and understood. It was no surprise however, once she learned that her abilities were not a fluke. They were generationally passed down throughout their families history, skipping her father's generation somehow. It was through her grandmother that Jasper's powers evolved and she learned skill after skill.

She was excelling profoundly in fact, until the day her grandmother was diagnosed with congenital heart failure. It would have been the worst day of Jasper's life if three months later she wasn't standing in all black as they lowered her grandmother's casket into the grave. She was only fifteen at the time, and from there she had quickly fallen downhill. The ache emanating from every part of her home often triggered panic attacks. She fielded every emotion bouncing from her family and due to her own pain and heartache, closing the door became impossible. So Jasper did what any young, hurting girl would do.

She turned to alcohol and drugs.

Distancing herself from her family, Jasper went to parties where she got so hopped up on drugs she couldn't feel her own feelings, let alone anyone else's. The highs were amazing, allowing her the momentary relief she had craved since childhood. But soon the small hits she was taking weren't enough. She needed more and needed it to last longer. Her addiction quickly grew out of control. By the time she was eighteen she was a high school drop out, addicted to oxy and couch surfing between acquaintances houses. And when she couldn't find a friends couch to sleep on, a quick one night stand gave her refuge for some time.

What led her to finding Mosshurst, or more accurately, Mosshurst finding her, was one drunken mistake at a bar. If she could take it back, she would, but she was drunk and the man had royally pissed her off. What part of 'no' did men not understand? That was a question that wrapped around Jasper's mind even during sober hours, but this man in particular had been relentless. The straw that broke the camel's back, however, was one tight grip around her wrist. Jasper couldn't put into words what happened next, but according to the director, she'd slammed his face so hard into the counter it broke his nose and shattered his orbital bone. What truly intrigued him however, was what she'd done to his mind.

Being an empath she had certain abilities and there were things her grandmother had taught her that she was never meant to use. Everyone had a secret, a fear, a trigger. It's all connected to emotion, so Jasper had found his fear and tugged on it until that was all he knew, and would know, for quite some time. Apparently he was locked in some pysch ward on the coast now, but the story was just their type of strange.

Extra:

➤Has her nose pierced, several along her ears, nipples and tongue.

➤Jasper also has several tattoos along her forearms, an entire back piece and a large tattoo on her left calf.

➤Masochist -- her own physical pain is the only thing she can truly feel herself and know it is her own.

➤Was once addicted to Oxy + abused alcohol.

➤Has a violent temper and is prone to outbursts -- one of which resulted in her 'transfer' to Mosshurst.

➤Has a nasty right hook.

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

⌘ Avery Redding ⌘

Name:

Avery Redding

Nickname:

Ave

Date of birth:

December 15th

Age:

19

Zodiac:

Sagittarius

Gender:

Cis Male

Sexuality:

Bisexual

Power:

Metamorph I Shapeshifter

[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Psionically change formation of biological cells at will causing oneself to become an exact duplicate of any human being.

Dopplegänger Morphing

[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] The ability to copy any human down to the most minute imperfection.

Partial Shifting

[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Avery can manipulate one individual body part at a time. I. E. He can change his eye color at will or copy a finger print without a full body shift.

Accelerated Healing

[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Due to his ability to manipulate his own bodies cellular composition, he is able to keep cells active at above optimal levels. This is a subconscious ability he doesn't need to focus on in order to use.

Form Recall

[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Once Avery copies a form, he can call it at will without needing the target in view.

Limitations:

[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Cannot morph into non-human / humanoid beings.

[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Must have physical view of target before copying their appearance.

[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Can only copy appearance. Cannot copy another's power.

[color= #F376A4]➤[/color]Full body shifting can only last 24 hours at a time with a 2 hour cool off period. Avery can do partial shifts back to back with little to no fatigue.

[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] When unconscious, any shifts revert.

Appearance:

Avery is tall, thick and athletically built. It's quite clear he spent the better part of his youth in some kind of sport. He has a boyish face more often than not, split into a wide grin with expressing eyes and unkempt curls. His skin is a soft olive hue, a small splattering of freckles along his left jaw.

Hair:

Curly and brown, Avery keeps the back and sides clipped short, leaving the front long enough to run fingers through. Often wild and drooping into his face, it's a very clear view of his greater personality.

Eyes:

Avery's eyes are a bright hazel, shifting depending on what he wears. His love of bright hues often make his eyes seem bluer than most.

Height:

6ft 5

Build:

Avery is naturally thick with muscle, broad shouldered and narrow hipped. Time as a swimmer on his high school team left him lean with little body fat — though with his now lack of training he has lost a little definition around his abdomen.

Personality:

Likes:

[color= #F376A4][color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Parties
[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Bright colors
[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Music
[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Soft rain showers
[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Stars
[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Learning
[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] The beach
[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] All baby animals

Dislikes:

[color= #F376A4][color= #F376A4]➤[/color]Conflict
[color= #F376A4]➤ [/color]Being ignored
[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Being alone
[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Seeing his friends sad
[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Bugs
[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Bullies
[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Sour candy

Background:

Avery had a pretty par for the course childhood. He was born and raised in a small town in central Wisconsin where his mother waitressed at a diner and his father ran an auto shop. They didn't have much in their small mobile home but they made the best out of what they could. Avery has plenty of fond memories of tv dinner's as they watched shows together in their small living room, of running around empty lots with his friends and staring up at the stars shining over head in the night sky with no care in the world. If anyone asked, Avery said he had the best childhood one could possibly dream of. Sure he didn't have a large house or six cars, but he had the time of his life.

His abilities manifested young, able to shift into those he's had contact with for as long as he remembered. His parents still fondly recall the memory of when they had learned of his 'gift'. They had thought they brought the wrong child home after a trip to a Chuck E. Cheese only for Avery to revert once he saw the panic on his parents faces. It had been an involuntary shift, having liked the other boys shirt so much he wanted to look like him -- and his juvenile mind had triggered the change. Over the years he developed control and can even do partial shifts where only one body part at a time will change at will.

In his formative years, Avery had more 'fun' with his powers. There were several petty thefts, shifting to older relatives in order to buy boos, silly sort of things. But in a small town word traveled fast and soon he was visited by a squad of cleanly dressed men in sleek cars and dark suits. They told him of a school several states away. At first Avery wasnt' a fan. He liked his life at home, causing trouble with his friends and living a quiet life, but his parents saw an opportunity for a better life, a better education and despite his initial misgivings, Avery found himself packing up his things.

Extra:

[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Owns a piglet named Turtle.

[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Avery's favorite color is pink.

[color= #F376A4]➤[/colo] Vegetarian.

[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Has ears pierced.

[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Virgin.

[color= #F376A4]➤[/color] Loves that gentle petting behind the ear when someone plays with his hair.

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

✩ Jimson Tan ✩

Name:

Jimson Tan

Nickname:

Jim | Jimmy | Sonny

Date of birth:

September 12th

Age:

23

Zodiac:

Virgo

Gender:

Cis Male

Sexuality:

Unexplored

Power:

Astrial Projection

➤ The power to separate one's soul from one's body.

Dreamwalking

➤ The ability to enter, influence, and interpret the dreams of another person.

Astral Manipulation

➤ The user can manipulate astral energy, allowing them to project their astral form on physical and astral plane, interact there, see spirits, making spirits visible to others, and potentially harming the dead.

➤ They can block others from astral projecting, sending them back to their bodies if they had already projected.

Non-Corporeal Form

➤ Power to be a Non-Corporeal being, pure soul form. Also known as 'Ghost Form'.

Posession

➤ The power to inhabit the body of a living being or inanimate object.

Limitations:

➤ Can only projection within a five mile radius of where his body lay.

➤ Can only influence dreams he walks-in via contact with the dreamer -- cannot outright control, manifest, or modify dreams.

➤ Leaves his body vulnerable while projecting.

➤ Possession can only be done for up to one hour. It's extremely draining and once finished, knocks him back to his physical body.

➤ If he is gone from his body for too long, there is a chance he may be unable to find his way back.

➤ Possesion is harder on those with stronger wills and easiest on those that are asleep.

Appearance:

Jimson is short and slight, rather young in appearance due to his less than physical lifestyle. He has always been short, not that he minded, but rounded cheeks and doe eyes didn't make him look any younger. Blessed with a high metabolism, he was always thin, though his parents do try and keep him healthy. Unfortunately he's a rather picky eater. He has a mop of shocking blonde hair which Chuseon bleaches for him regularly and is prone to wearing cotton shirts with tailored khaki shorts adorned with several accessories.

Hair:

Bleached blonde.

Eyes:

Auburn

Height:

5ft 5in

Build:

Slight with little muscle definition. With a high metabolism and pickish eating habits, Jimson has always held a petite body type.

Personality:

Likes:

➤ Meeting new people
➤ Video games
➤ Outdoors
➤ Patience
➤ Piano music
➤ Sleeping in
➤ Hot cocoa
➤ Reading

Dislikes:

➤ Confrontation
➤ Impatient people
➤ Exercise
➤ Loud music
➤ Early mornings
➤ Being away from home
➤ Birds

Background:

Born to Chanyeol and Suwon Tan, Jimson was blessed from birth. Having the proverbial silver spoon in his mouth from the moment he was conceived, Jimson never wanted for anything. He had the highest quality clothes, the finest of foods, the most qualified of caretakers. He was a bright and loving child, ever curious and always wandering. By the age of two, his parents began to notice a difference in him, one not found in other children. At any given point in time he would fall asleep. He would be coloring and just slump over or walking and just collapse. As one might imagine, his parents were terrified.
Diagnosed with narcolepsy, there wasn't much to do for someone so young other than to keep an eye on him. And an eye on him they kept. Nanny's were kept on shifts in order to watch his every move. That didn't save him from injuries due to his 'narcolepsy' however, as no human was perfect and accidents did occur — then again, so did unemployment.
By the age of five, Jimson began to speak and that's when things grew stranger still. He spoke of dreams, of places he would visit that he certainly hadn't been and of people he definitely hadn't met. At first they thought it was a usual childhood imagination, but as the years when passed and his stories didn't change and instead grew darker, his family began to look into....other causes.
It was at the age of 11 that the Tan's learned of what their son truly was. An elderly woman, around 55, came to their home one day. She had a deep warm honey complex, nearly plaited white hair and knowing silver eyes. She'd seen him in a dream she said, plenty of times. And though her words seemed insane, the burst of familiarity on Jimson's face when he saw her, the smile and the way he hugged her as if he'd known her his whole life was enough.

He learned he was a Dream Walker, that he could project his spirit into a different plane. He could influence dreams, traverse the spiritual plane and even possess things. Over the next several years his powers were trained, honed in order to control when and how he projected.
Growing in near isolation left Jimson socially stunted, but he always craved a life outside of his houses four walls. His parents were understandably hesitant to let him wander the world. He had a power that they didn't doubt others would want to manipulate. After endless years of begging they found Mosshurst. After extensive research, and even some private investigation, they succeeded and, at the age 21, he was finally able to see the world outside of his homes four walls.
Of course he wouldn't go alone. Not in his parents wildest dreams. His guard, one he'd known since he was 17, was to accompany him — the closest thing Jimson had to a best friend. At least he was kind.

Extra:

➤ Love's old school gameboy games.

➤ Easily discouraged

➤ Has no piercings/tattoos, but does want his tongue pierced

➤ Fascinated with the idea of love.

➤ Has a personal guard, Chuseon Kim, hired by his parents. He is his best friend.

➤ Prone to insomnia

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

✩ Salvana Azucenia Arizmendi ✩

Name:

Salvana Azucenia Arizmendi

Nickname:

Sal | El Dragón | Vana | Sally -- but only Nagisa can call her that.

Date of birth:

Unknown

Age:

20 ish

Zodiac:

Unknown

Gender:

Female

Sexuality:

Unexplored

Power:

Dermal Armor

➤ The users has or can generate an innate armor as a part of their body, which is resistant to attacks, harm or pain ,and temperature extremes.

Scale Manifestation

➤ User is able to grow scales of varying size which often possess great durability.

Enhanced Senses

➤ Due to DNA splicing, Salvana has infrared vision, advanced hearing and smell at well beyond that of an average human.

➤ Her strength as well, exceeds that of someone her size -- able to lift 500 lbs max.

Claw Formation

➤ Able to extend and retract talon-like claws from her fingertips.

Fire Breath

➤ The ability to generate from within oneself fire and release them from the mouth.

Limitations:

➤ Must consume around 5,000 calories/day.

➤ Can use fire breath 3 times absolute max with burn trauma starting after time 2 and worsening after time 3, and potential death on the fourth use.

➤ Partially colorblind and nearsighted.

➤ Possession can only be done for up to one hour. It's extremely draining and once finished, knocks him back to his physical body.

Appearance:

Salvana is a small, slender person with a well toned athletic build. Her yellowed gaze is as entrancing as it is unsettling with their slitted pupil's and eerie glow. Her skin is supple and tanned from both heredity and sun exposure, adorned with various inkings. Hair a vibrant blue, all natural of course, there are several differences due to DNA splicing as an embryo. Her skin as a barely noticeable sheen, scale-like shapes glowing iridescent beneath direct light.

Hair:

Steel Blue

Eyes:

Yellow with slitted pupils.

Height:

4ft 11in

Build:

Petite with well toned muscle.

Personality:

Likes:

➤ Raw red meat
➤ Nature
➤ Being alone
➤ Freedom
➤ Piano music
➤ Pezito
➤ Learning
➤ Fighting

Dislikes:

➤ Doctors/Scientists
➤ Most men
➤ White rooms
➤ Sharing spaces
➤ Cold
➤ Guards
➤ Sweets

Extra:

➤ Salvana has partial AIS - androgen insensitivity syndrome

➤ Product of gene splicing

➤ Speaks fluent Spanish and broken English

➤ Still feral, has killed before

➤ Has participated in cannibalism

➤ Calls Nagisa Pezito, Pez, Pescado, Mí Amor

➤ Forked tongue

Background:

Trigger Warning: Abuse, Sexual Assault on a Minor, Death:

Salvana was created in a lab, gene splicing a new and exciting event within the scientific community. However, like all things, there are those that would like to take the good and use it for evil. Trial after trial, experiment after experiment, were had until the proper formula was found. The Peruvian government kept it tightly underwraps, their facility places far into indigenous lands, miles from villages that could possibly discover what they did. They found that if they isolated the gene that caused mutations in the human genome that allotted them heightened abilities, and spliced them together with their own genetic markers from various sources, they had, in some sense, control over which mutations would manifest.

Salvana was once such trail, spliced together with the DNA of several variations of reptile and a gracious amount of the mutant gene. She was born in a cold sterile lab with tanned but grey skin, vibrant reflective eyes, a split tongue and canines far too sharp to be human. She looked promising in the beginning. She was alert and bright, a quick learner and even quicker in growth. Within the first six months she was the size of a one year old, and after a year, appeared to be three. This accelerated growth quickly slowed however, and by the age of five she looked to be just that, a five year old.

Unfortunately for her, there were no other physical advancements. There were no signs of the gene mutations they were looking for, no enhanced abilities other than the ones granted to her due to the splicing of reptilian DNA with her own human base. To say she was a disappointment would be an understatement. The tests slowed and the scientists began work on another child, hoping to yield better results. Poked, prodded and then tossed into a windowless room once they were finished, Salvana's early childhood was devoid of much else other than clinical disdain.

Not much would change in the coming years.

Considered a failure by the time she reached five years old, Salvana was scheduled for termination. Her and the other failures were gathered, sedated and taken from their beds and placed into a small white room. Instead, the young child woke in grass. The tickle of the leaves scared her, the chirping of birds was too loud and the glare of the sun burned her eyes. At first Salvana had thought she was dead, why else did everything hurt? She quickly learned that she was very much alive.

Left to wander, to survive how she could, days turned to weeks and weeks turned into years. From the time that she was five, until she was seven the young child was slowly acclimated to her environment. Language was lost to her, vocalizations shifting to a more animalistic octave — growling, hissing and cooing.

It was by accident that she was spotted, a complete happenstance as she crouched beneath the brush as a woman several times her elder busied herself with collecting the local plant life. Yellowed eyes watched her in silence, curious as to what creature had wandered into her domain. When she was spotted, instinct told her to flee — and that's exactly what she did. She ran but the woman came back, day after day and she would sing to her, a lullaby Salvana would later come to cherish.

Trust was built as the days passed by, Salvana eventually revealing herself to the woman in full. Her hair was matted with dirt, twigs and leaves. Her skin was blackened with the elements, blood of her prey caked beneath her nails. She was thin, though not emaciated, lacking most body fat from her hunting. After nearly six months, the elder was able to coax Salvana into her home, into the bath and into food.

She was more animal than human, preferring to sleep outdoors, eat from the floor and catch the wandering mice, lizards and small monkeys for meals than what her caretaker would prepare. During their time together, Salvana learning how to walk, speak a few simple sentences, and eat at a table. Taken to calling the elder 'Mamá,' the two enjoyed a quiet life in the village.

It was after almost a year a second person was introduced into the girl's life. Mamá's son, Juoaquín, returned after two years in the Peruvian army. It took time to acclimate to him, violent outbursts common when he invaded too closely to her territory. There was something off about him, the instinct of the wild far from unlearned and Salvana trusted her instinct more than she trusted Mamá. Unfortunately with her limited vocabulary there was no way to express her concerns.

It started the fourth month he was home, his perversions revealed during a bath in the nearby lake. Salvana didn't understand at first, but she hated it. She didn't like the touch of his fingers on her or the feeling of his breath on her neck, but when she resisted, it was met with a fist to the face or a hand around the neck. At the tender age of eight, she could put up a fight — a rather good one, but the threat of losing her home, her family, her mother was enough to silence her.

It became too much though. Mamá would ask about the bruises, the silence and reservation that quickly overcame her adopted child. Salvana was more violent, leaving local animals butchered and often refused to sleep alone. If she did, she was sure to leave the house far behind and it was never resting — constant alert to the slightest crunching of leaves.

She couldn't keep it a secret for much longer. It hurt and she felt dirty. It took time, she didn't have the words to say, but Mamá could understand enough and to say she was horrified would be an understatement. When Juoaquín returned from work that night, the fight was quick to stir. She called him things Salvana had never heard before and her son was quick to strike. He was much stronger than he looked and his mother was old.

Salvana wouldn't be able to tell you what happened next, not chronologically. What she did know was that there was fire. Fire and her skin glistened within its light with sapphire scales. She could tell you how Joaquín crawled from the found sobbing. She could tell you how the other villagers eased out of their homes to bear witness. And she could tell you how she bore her teeth into his neck and tore it from his body.

Terrified the villagers either fled or fought, and those that fought met the same end as Juoaquin. The village was left in ashes, and with it Salvana's trust in humans. They were dark and twisted. It was safer in the woods, her home of two years prior, her sanctuary now. She wandered, hunting monkey's and lizards and the like -- whatever she could get her claws into.

The story of her village spread fast, the survivors whispering their secrets to the other locals. She became known as El Dragon, lurking in the nearby woods. Salvana was the scary story mothers told their children, the pagan god they sacrificed their flock to for better harvests. She was everything they feared. Gates were kept locked and prayers were said each night, but when word of a missing child would spread, they knew there was no use searching. When livestock would be found mutilated come the morning sun, there was no use fighting it. El Dragon was a mystic force to them.

Salvana grew over the next several years in the forest, feral. Her story spread to the nearby city, brushed aside as some farmer's silly local legend. But there were those that knew better. That knew of her kind and just how real they could be. Found by Mosshurst agents, the initial meeting quickly went sideways. Men clad in black military uniforms with heavy guns set off warnings in her head. The first shot had been by a nervous guard wary of the wild thing more animal than human.

Nearly half of them died that day, several dozen left with variants in degrees of burn trauma -- Salvana finding her limit to her abilities that day. If it weren't for their sheer number overwhelming her, she just might have been able to remain in her precious forest. Alas, she was taken, sedated and brought back to the school. A product of another governments testing, she was quite the specimen. Blood tests, ability training, and much more to try and break down just what they'd done to her, how they had created her.

Three months of this, often under heavy sedation and restraint, were had before Salvana was allowed to interact with the other students. It was during this time that she met Nagisa, fondly referred to as Pezito. It was a chance meeting, what with the reptilian DNA spliced into her own, she often sought out the heat of the sun to warm her too cold body. She struggled through English, limited and clunky, the sudden switch to spanish from the aquatic leaving her both shocked and enamored. From that day she never left his side...at least not unless she absolutely had to.

Of course all learning had a curve, and Salvana's was steeper than most. She felt trapped, the man's words sounding angry and harsh despite her inability to understand them. He had made a grab for her, quick reflexes evading his grasp, but it didn't make his intentions any clearer. He had her cornered, warning growls emanating from her throat as her gazed bounced around the other faces in the room. They weren't stopping him, weren't coming to her aid. She was the freak of the school now, teeth bared as she crouched. No one took it seriously, it seemed, their boisterous laughs and shrill tauntings quickly overwhelming her acute senses.

Laughter soon turned to screams, the billowy crackle of fire spewing forth ignited the man's entire form. Scales ripped down her body, protecting her from her own flames, guards quick to the scene to quell the damage caused. Salvana was caged after that. Deemed 'released too soon', though one could say it was a better fate than what the doctor's there had resigned her to.

That was where she would stay for the next four months, sedated, tested and put through several 'classes'. Set for release soon, she's under keen supervision.

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

⊗ Baine Gallagher ⊗

Name:

Baine Gallagher

Nickname:

Cupid | Casanova -- no he does not respond to these

Date of birth:

Date Unknown | Liverpool, England

Age:

23

Zodiac:

Unknown

Gender:

Cis Male

Sexuality:

Bisexual

Power:

Desire Manipulation

➤ User can sense and manipulate the desire of others.

Desire Augmentation

➤ The user can amplify the desires in others, increasing the targets needs/obsessions/desires up to point where victim will stop at nothing to try to get whatever they desire for, even being willing to hurt themselves to get it.

Desire Confession

➤ The ability to overwhelmingly compel another to confess their deepest desires to the user.

Desire Negation

➤ The ability to negate or suppress any given desire in others.

Desire Inducement

➤ The ability to influence desires held by another person.

Limitations:

➤ Must have physical contact in order to manipulate another person's desires.

➤ To get someone to confess, he has to 'trigger' it by asking some form of "What do you desire most?"

➤ Cannot make someone desire something outside of their moral alignment.

➤ The stronger someone is mentally the harder they are to read/influence/manipulate.

➤ Once the desire is fulfilled the effects of his manipulation dissipate.

Appearance:

Baine is a tall, lanky individual with sinewy muscle and a deep mocha tone. His jaw is sharp, eyes large and knowing with a broad nose and full lips. His eyebrows are thick and expressive, hair often a mess of wild curls that he does his best to maintain. His posture is confident, as Baine is prone to standing tall, but is often quite relaxed. Shoulders are squared and head held high, but his hands are usually shoved in his jeans or jacket pockets.

Hair:

Wild dark brown -- almost black, curls. The back and sides taper down into a well kept fade.

Eyes:

Dark brown, almost black.

Height:

5'10

Build:

Baine is tall, with lean sinewy muscle. He has a swimmer's build with broad shoulders and defined abs.

Personality:

Likes:

➤ Parties
➤ Sleeping in
➤The City
➤ The Stars
➤ Movies
➤ Physical intimacy
➤ Drinking
➤ Playing with people

Dislikes:

➤Conflict
➤ Being ignored
➤ Being alone
➤ Authority
➤ Accountability
➤ Vulnerability

Background:

TRIGGER WARNING: Underage prostitution | Child abuse | Underage drinking

Not one to openly discuss, nor dwell, on the past, Baine can't tell you how nor why he ended up where he did. It was just how life was for as long as he could remember. If he tried hard enough, he could conjure up the blurry faces of what he supposed were a man and a woman screaming at one another about something....about him. It wasn't much of a reach to figure out he was a mistake, if he wasn't -- if he was wanted -- he would have been at home with his family instead of on the streets, scavenging for food in whatever dumpster his young self could scramble into.

It was on one of these dumpster dives that he was approached by a man, much older than himself. He introduced himself as Eric -- no last name and promised money, food and shelter. What was a young orphan to do? Baine was hungry -- starving; slowly dying in some gutter no one would look twice at when he washed away. Baine didn't want to die in obscurity, so he took the olive branch offered to him unaware of just what he was delving into.

He should have known better, or so he thinks now at least. A young boy with a sweet face, that man used him until there was nothing left. Quite literally beaten into submission, Baine was first broken before he was remolded into Eric's perfect weapon. Eric used him until Baine was a shell of who he should have been, obedient to his every command. Any deviation was cut down with harsh words and a harder fist. Baine was his doll, offered up to whatever greedy hands wanted to toy with it -- for a price of course, there was always a price with Eric.

Baine wanted nothing more than to get out, to run, but with nowhere to go, he stayed. He stayed and he played the game, sneaking in through side doors and back entrances of hotels, laying in back alley's and sliding into passenger seats in the dark. It was all he knew, morning and night, moving from bed to bed, car park to car park. He watched the money exchange hands with dull eyes and duller senses. He barely even felt the hands on him anyways, sequestering himself away into a different part of his mind until it was over -- a world where he was normal. Maybe he had a parent, even two if he was a lucky. There was a dog, that corny little wrap around porch, and his mom would ask him if he wanted lemonade on a hot day....

-----

Baine doesn't know just when his powers manifested. There wasn't some big catalyst where all of a sudden he could do this cool new thing. It was slow to build, something he noticed as time went by. If he touched his john's and asked what they wanted, they would tell him. It would spill out no matter how much he watched them struggle with it. When Eric learned of his powers, Baine became his new favorite possession. They went everywhere together, Practically tied at the hip. Baine could get men and women alike to ache for anything and in this business, aching for him was key. Of course his abilities lended towards other....aspects of Eric's 'career' of which Baine assisted with or face yet another angry fist. Choice was only a pretense after all....

Life was monotonous, though Baine would admit with his newfound powers he felt a little more in control. He still was made to lay with even the most undesirable of pigs. He did, however, get out of back alley's and empty lots, upgrading to seedy bars and raunchy underground clubs. The clientele were no more attractive than before, but at least he got a few free drinks out of it, right? There was one particular bar near the coast that became Baine's preferred haunt. The patrons were less than appealing most days but their pockets were always charitable. It was at that bare that he met the one person that would change his life forever.

Oran Gallagher.

Same age. Same height. Same wild soul. On vacation with his father, he'd snuck out for a wee bit of fun. Maybe it was his accent, so out of place in a bar full of brits, or maybe it was his eyes, or maybe it was his rowdy nature; whatever it was, Baine was drawn in like moth to flame. They were quick to bond. It's not like Baine knew many, if anyone, his own age. It was like he'd found the other half of himself. Of course he wasn't quite so honest about who, or what, he was. He was smart enough to keep that to himself. But as time went on, and Baine spent more of his time with Oran and less of it 'working', they moved from bar boys to brothers in no time flat.

It didn't take long for Eric to catch on. His cash was dwindling and he'd gotten a few complaints about his patrons 'favorite boy' being mia. Needless to say the man didn't take too kindly to Baine skipping out on his duties. His punishment was severe for that -- busted ribs and bruised face. Baine wasn't let out for nearly a week, keen eye trained on him until his bruises were healed and he could work again. He had no idea how long Oran was in town for, but he'd service a client or two for free if they took him to the bar he'd first met the blonde for a few hours. At the least he wanted to tell him goodbye.

A goodbye turned into an offer, an offer that scared Baine to his very core. Sneaking out to see Oran had been bad enough but leaving, that was a whole new bear to poke. Pleading eyes and heartfelt promises eventually won out however and Baine found himself leaving everything he'd ever known behind to climb aboard a plane with people he barely new to enter a country he knew only the name of.

Extra:

➤ Aggressively abstains from emotional vulnerability

➤ Has four parents and an adopted brother

➤ Severe commitment issues

➤ Speaks English and Gaelige fluently

➤ Neither his first nor his last name are his given name. Baine was given to him by Eric and he took Oran's last name when he was adopted.

➤ Moved to Ireland when he was sixteen.

➤ Always loved music. Has a secret wish to start a music career.

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

❤Isadora Oliveira

❤

N/A

Name:

Isadora Oliveira

Nickname:

Isa | Dora | Babygirl

Date of birth:

July 27th | Ilheus, Brazil

Age:

17

Zodiac:

Leo

Gender:

Female

Sexuality:

Heterosexual | Panromantic

Power:

Ferrokinetic Mimicry
User is made up of or can transform their body completely into metal.

Enhanced Durability

The ability to be immune to most kinds of damage.

Elemental Transmutation

The power to change/alter a substance and rearrange the atoms of a structure.

Enhanced Strength

The ability to posses strength beyond that of an average member of user's species.

Thermal resistance.

The ability to survive extreme temperatures -- hot and cold alike -- dependent upon the metal absorbed.

Limitations

➤ Invulnerability is only active when mimicry is active.

➤ User takes on all attributes of absorbed metals, including its weakness as well.

➤ Movement is slowed depending on the density of the metal absorbed.

➤ Transmutation can only be done to metals into another metal. The user cannot transform glass into gold.

➤ Enhanced strength does not pertain to lifting but to breaking. User can break only what metal absorbed is able to withstand.

➤ User is only as durable as the metal absorbed.

Appearance:

Isadora is taller than your average woman, thick with voluptuous curves and soft skin. A sweet face, large eyes and full lips, Isa is the picture of innocent though she is nothing of the sort. Her hair is thick and long, often framing her face in loose curls that end where her waist tapers the most before flaring back out. Ever the lover of all things diamond — they are a girl's best friend after all — she's often seen wearing diamond chokers, earrings, bracelets and rings. Even her nails have mini diamonds in them. Some would call it an obsession, Isa prefers the term 'passion'.

Hair:

Dark brown bordering on black, loose curls falling to her mid waist.

Eyes:

Warm honey

Height:

5ft 9 — 6'1 with heels

Build:

Isa is thiccc with 3 c's — those are her words. Sporting a classic hourglass figure her chest is large stomach slim though not entirely flat, hips wide, and thighs thick; she is just as pillowy as she looks.

Personality:

Likes:

➤ Your man.
➤ The color pink.
➤ Parties.
➤ Diamonds.
➤ Loud music.
➤ Slumber parties.
➤ Every baby animal.
➤ Fluffy things.
➤ Anyone who can lift her
➤ Piggyback rides.

Dislikes:

➤ Bullying / Putting others down.
➤ Being told what to do.
➤ Not getting her way.
➤ Oppressive quiet.
➤ Being censored.
➤ Emotional vulnerability.
➤ Sad films
➤ Horror films.
➤ Sweets
➤ Coffee

Background:

Isadora Oliveira, born Isaiah Oliveira, was born in the coastal town of Ilheus to a Colombian woman by the name of Carla Oliveira. They lived a quiet life, nothing all that important cropping up in the life she remembered. Her mother was a waitress and a maid, working odd hours that didn't leave much time for the two of them -- save for an hour just before Isa would go to bed if she managed to stay up late enough. It was a consistent, if not luxurious existence. They didn't have the biggest house, nor the fanciest car -- they had no car to be exact. Isadora didn't wear designer clothes only able to gather hand-me-downs of hand-me-downs, but she was happy with her friends and her mother and her life. It was quaint and homey and just....life.

Things changed when she turned nine. It had been as much of a surprise to her as it was to anyone. They had just begun learning about America in class and to say the young child was fascinated was a complete understatement. Isa wanted to visit more than anything, so, on her way home from school one day she stopped by the large fountain in the city square. Fishing out a penny she'd found a few weeks ago between the couch cushions, Isadora clasped it between her hands and closed her eyes. She poured all of her focus into the penny, wishing for her trip to America. She stood like that for several moments before opening her eyes. When she opened her hands to toss in her penny and complete her wish, the rusting copper was no longer there. In its place glinted mint condition gold. Confusion was her first reaction, unsure of how that had happened. She was just so sure she had been holding a penny. When it clicked she ran.

Oh did Isadora run.

She ran all the way hope, clutching that small penny in her hand. Her mother was at work but she knew where she kept her jar of change. It was under the creaky floor board just to the left of her mother's bed -- not that she was supposed to know. Pulling it out she grabbed a handful of change and set it on the ground. One by one she would take one, close her eyes and wish, wish with all of the might of a young child, to go to America. Time and time again they would come out gold. By the time her mother arrived home, all of their stored money had been turned into golden pieces. Needless to say her mother was flabbergasted. She thought her child had stolen it at first, at least until Isa had demanded a coin to prove it -- and prove it she did.

Now this was a family secret, far too many would try to use the young child if they knew of her powers. America was a dream, a dream that became a reality under the cover of night. They didn't have much to pack from their small home on the coast. The two settled in Texas, just outside of Houston. There, both Isadora and her powers flourished. At the age of 12 she could transmute metals and absorb them into her hands and feet — up to her elbows and knees respectively. She came out to her mother at 14 and began her transition soon thereafter.

It was at the age of 16, after sneaking out to a local club with some friends, that Isa met Richard Coulter. Several drinks were had, stolen glances across the bar. One thing led to another and the young girl awoke the next morning in his bed. Names had yet to be exchanged, so one could hardly expect age to be questioned -- especially meeting in a place for those 21 and older. It wouldn't be discovered for several more weeks and by that time the two had seen each other several times over.

At first it was hush money, what lawyer wanted to be exposed for sleeping with a minor? But the craving was strong and well, Isadora had developed somewhat of an attachment. Their relationship flourished and Isadora's interest had been piqued. How many other lonely middle-aged men were there? How many were willing to shell out several stacks for her time alone? Surely there was more than just Richard Coulter.

And so, over the next year and a half, Isa bounced from man to man, giving them attention in whichever way they wished it. Be it long talks at dinner or belittling them in bed, Isa turned into their perfect woman -- all for a hefty price. Richard was always there though, a true pillar in her life. As her business grew their relationship did as well, only not in the way one would assume. The physical moved to friendly, the friendly to something akin to paternalism. Her school, all private institutions, came from his pocket. Her apartment, her two cars, her phone and her laptop were all gifts over the duration of their relationship.

Just after her 17th birthday, Isadora moved to New York. She wanted to see the world more -- and one of her Daddies had a nice bungalow upstate. She lived there for a while, though it was not meant to last. Some fans just didn't know where the line was. Isadora was used to it though, the obsession, but one man got a little too close for comfort. It was clear he had hoped she would be home, ransacking a case of both anger and obsession. Her home was trashed, things strewn about. One would think it a happenstance burglary, but Isa knew better. No theif was taking her toothbrush and pillowcase -- among other things. That was the last straw for Richard who, upon knowing Isa was hoping to start college, found Mosshurst and offered to pay for all of her expenses if it meant she was safe.

Extra:

➤ Isa stops at every fountain and makes a wish before transmuting the penny into gold and tossing it in.

➤ When she can, Isa will transmute homeless person's collected coins into gold pieces.

➤ She speaks both portugese and spanish fluently.

➤ Has a grill -- and no not the kind you cook with.

➤ Owns two cars, one for summer and one for winter. Both are pink and both are gifts from Richard.

➤ She has a doberman pinscher named Ronaldo. He is her best friend and she would die for him.

➤ Isa facetimes her mother on Saturday's to keep her updated on her live. Her mother is supportive of her sex work and makes sure to tell her she's proud so her daughter never forgets it.

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

Zephyr Mateo

Fullname:
Zephyr Dedam

Nickname/Alias(if any):
Zeph | Zephy
Not one to get particularly close to others, Zephyr doesn't go by anything other than her given name. As a child her parents once called her Zeph or Zephy, however, with their passing, so too did her nickname fall out of use.

Divine Name:

The Wicked One
Worshipped by a small group of humans just shy of ShadoWood territory, Zephyr is known as The Wicked One. To them she is a god, a fact she finds strange though amusing.

Scent:
Zephyr smells most prominently of the earth and wood sage. Occasionally she will scent herself with a sweet smelling flower, but her natural scent is quite earthy. Upon closer inspection, and a keen wendi nose, one can pick up on the notes of raw flesh especially after a fresh meal and chamomile tea.

Age:
23
Zephyr is, in human years, twenty three years old. Still rather young, she is impulsive and juvenile in her actions and words.

Status/Rank:
Loner
Due to an agreement from her parents and the old alpha, Zepyhr is allowed to reside within ShadoWood territory though is not actually a part of the herd itself. It's a precarious agreement, one Zephyr dances along with her games with the humans.

Occupation:
Wiccan | Spiritual Healer | Shaman
Being outside of the ShadoWood herd, Zephyr doesn't have any active role within the herd itself. She is free to live as she wishes and that she does. Following what she can remember of her Mi'kmaq spirituality, mixing it with other pagan traditions, Zephyr can best explain her craft as a Wiccan or Shaman. These aren't exactly accurate, though the closest anyone is able to grasp onto her spirituality.

Sex:
Doe

Gender:
Female
Identifying with the gender assigned to her at birth, Zephyr uses female pronouns such as she/her/hers.

Sexual Orientation:
Bisexual
Not putting too much thought into the who, when Zephyr looks for physical pleasures, the gender/sex of her partners is of little consequence. What matters is how they pleasure her and if they're good at it.

Human Form Description:
-Height:
5'3
Zephyr is average in height, standing at around five feet and three inches. She's not particularly short, but far from being considered tall.

-Eye color:
White
Being born sans iris, Zephyr's eyes appear to be a full ghostly white. It was the very reason for her ostracization at birth.

-Hair color:
Brown
Falling in loose curls down Zephyr's shoulders, her hair is a beautiful chocolate brown. Usually styled in a single wild braid pulled over her shoulder, Zephyr will decorate her brads with flowers, twigs or pretty leaves for fun.

-Complexion:
Rich
Spending most of her days within the wood, the sun has kept Zepyr's naturally tan flesh a nice deep hue. Nose and lips are naturally rosey, eyes and cheeks rouged with powder harvested from local berries and flowers.

-Other descriptors:
- Zephyr's canines are naturally sharper than most other wendi's in their human form
- Born with a genetical mutation, her eyes are a pure ghostly white. This makes it harder to see during the day, though her vision is unparalleled at night.
- Has several tattoos adorning her body all with various meanings.
- Hands are dyed black fading towards her elbows
- Feet are dyed in a similar way
Wendigo Form Description:
-Height:
5'6
Gaining three inches in height, this does not take into account a rather impressive rack of antlers that sit atop of Zephyr's head. Curving back they branch out into several directions, occasionally the cause of headaches when shifted. Zephyr's form stays mostly the same when she shifts, save for growing a few inches and antlers sprouting from her skull. Her hair, eyes and skin remain identical to her human form while fur sprouts, fading in around her hips, growing in density and length as it covers plush thighs and shapely legs -- all the way to cloven feet.

Personality:
Zephyr is a trickster by nature. She enjoys taunting the humans that live near by and even scaring the fauna that live in ShadoWood. Now she would never dream of bringing harm to her own kind, she does enjoy the fear that crosses their wee faces when they catch a glimpse of her in the forest. It's quite enertaining.

Playful | Manipulative | Dominant | Aggressive | Aloof | Thoughtful |Violent | Seductive

Behavior while in heat/rut (nsfw):
Zephyr is always the dominant parting when mating in and out of estrus. When in heat, that dominance only grows, nipping and growling at those that wish to steal if from her. So far she hasn't been outmatched. Zephyr isn't particularly choosy when it comes to who she lay with, be it gender or role, but she does demand that they be good. If they do not satisfy her, and quickly, they are promptly tossed out.

Days leading up to her heat, Zephyr can be irritable, though her moods come and go like an ocean tide -- shifting between angry and tactile in flashes. Despite her solitary nature, a den is often created in some sort of hollowed out tree, adorned with plush furs, leaves and decorated with a myriad of dried and fresh flowers, fruits and plenty of squirrels to keep bellies full.

Mate(s)(if any):
None atm

Family(if any):
Mother - Deceased

Father - Deceased

Allies(if any):
Clyde
A rather ..... excitable member of the Cloven Zephyr has chosen to toy with, and perhaps take under her wing.

The Cloven
A small group of humans that revere Wendigo as gods. A small outlet of them live just a mile or so from her home on the edge of ShadoWood.

Enemies(if any):

Strengths:
Persuasive | Cunning | Playful | Night vision | Knowledge of the forest | Medicine | Manipulation

Weaknesses:
Emotions | Vulnerability | Seeing during the day | Communication

History (can be short or highly detailed):
WIP
Fullname:
Mateo Santiago

Nickname/Alias(if any):
Mat | Matty | Saint

Divine Name:
N/A
Avoiding the Cloven as much as possible, Matt isn't aware of what divine name, if any, they've bestowed upon him.

Scent (what do they smell like):
Birch | Spice | Lavender
Mateo takes great care in grooming himself, bathing every day -- sometimes even twice a day if he'd gone hunting. His natural scent is of birch and spice, though he prefers softer scents such as lavender and rose -- choosing to scent himself with the flowers he keeps in his home.

Age:
20

Status/Rank:
Gamma

Occupation:
Nanny
Despite his rather shocking appearance, Mateo is a great caretaker. Coming from a childhood as lonely and secluded as his own, he takes great care in assuring that no fawn is left out and is properly taken care of. In a way, he's trying to make up for the lost times of his own past, in caring for the next generation.

Sex:
Male Stag

Gender:
Male

Sexual Orientation:
Homosexual | Phallosexual
Though not generally attracted to the 'fairer sex', Mateo would self identify as gay. He has, however, lain with a few luna in his time, usually when heat passed and primal urges were near impossible to ignore -- though he does prefer those that present more masculine.

Human Form Description:
-Height:
5' 8in
Mateo is far from the tallest, hinting at the shorter side of your average male height.

-Eye color:
Grey
Nothing too particularly great to look at, Mateo's eyes are a cool mercury tone, the ring of his iris a near inky black giving him a rather, large, child-like gaze.

-Hair color:
White
Since birth, Mateo has lacked all pigmentation in his hair. There was never an explanation as to why, just another odd case for his rather strange visage.

-Complexion:
Pale as Porcelain
Despite spending most of his days out in the world, Mateo's skin remains as pale as ever.

-Other descriptors:
This is the form Mateo takes most often around the children to keep from scaring them.

Wendigo Form Description:
-Height:
5' 11in
With the addiction of hooves, Mateo gains about three inches, standing just shy of six feet tall.

-Eye color:
Light grey
With the shift, his eyes loose their vibrancy, appearing near white in the low light of the moon.

-Hair color:
White
Unchanging with the shift, his hair stays a pristine snowy white.

-Complexion:
Grey

-Fur color and pattern:
Sparse
Mateo, due to his lineage diving back to latin america, has rather sparse fur. In such warm climates, more fur meant hotter days. Tapering in around his hips, his chest, back and forearms are completely bare. Even the fur along his legs is short and trim, fading into a charcoal grey as it reaches black hooves.

-Other descriptors:
- claws and hooves are black.
- Due to a brith defect, Mateo's canines for both top and bottom appear outside of his mouth. Its a painful process as they tear through the flesh with each shift.
- His defect has left him with a permanent speech impediment.
- His horns are straight and tall, tapering to a sharp point about six inches from their base -- more demon-like compared to his fellow wendigo.
Personality:
Due to his childhood, Mateo is rather quiet, preferring to keep to himself. He doesn't trust outsiders and tends to be rather clingy to those he deems friends. He can turn violent when the feeling of someone else impeding on his time with his preferred person. Has several boundary issues and has trouble understanding most interpersonal connections as he was denied this in his formative years.

Clingy | Loyal | Quiet | Shy | Violent | Insecure

Behavior while in heat/rut (nsfw):

Mate(s)(if any):
None atm

Family(if any):
Mother | Luisa - 45 | Deceased

Father } Emilio - 40 | MIA

Allies(if any):
Yucca

Enemies(if any):
Pending...

Strengths:
Protective | Loyal | Observant | Nurturing

Weaknesses:
Communication | Speaking | Being alone | Boundaries | Confidence

History (can be short or highly detailed):
Born to Emilio and Luisa Santiago, Mateo was meant for a happy life. He was supposed to grow in a small village in Ecuador with people like himself, a loving supporting community and two doting parents. Instead, his mother was horrified at his visage upon his birth, rejecting him the moment she saw him. Horrified with the 'monster' she had created, Luisa took her life two days after her child was born. Unable to live without his dear wife, Emilio took his son to the closest herd he could find. That just so happened to be ShadoWood, where Mateo's life didn't get any easier.

Left without a mother or a father, Mateo was bounced from nanny to nanny, whoever could take and nurse him at the time. Due to his pale skin, white hair and unusual fangs, there weren't many takers. There were several occasions where Mateo nearly starved due to a lack of doe or luna that wanted to feed him. He grew up malnourished and unloved, well aware of his 'otherness' by the time he reached four years old.

There was one person that looked out for him though, a well to do stag named Yucca who, to this day, Mateo refuses to leave his side. Much as he did when he was younger, he follows Yucca around like some sort of lost puppy. It kept the other kids away, though there were plenty of instances where Mateo was alone, where he could be found and taunted for their pleasure. Many nights left Mateo battered and bruised, wondering why he of all people had to be subject to such ridicule. It was this teasing that pushed him to keep his human form most days, as it gave the children less ammunition to call him names.

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

DJINN

Name:
No legal Name

Alias:
Djinn -- for those that know him
Ghost -- for those that don't

Age:
All Djinn really knows is his birth year, the date and time lost to him. He knows he's about twenty-four years old so that's just what he tells people. He doesn't really keep track, so it does take a bit of time (and finger counting) to get to this number.

Gender:
Djinn, identifying with the gender given at birth, is a cis male.

Sexuality:
Like many things in life, Djinn doesn't look at sexuality through one lens. He's attracted to who he's attracted to and doesn't put much other thought into it. Life is too short, especially in the Terran District, to fuss over such trivial things.

Level:
Born and (self) raised in the Coms, Djinn is a proud Terran.

Occupation:
Officially, governmentally, Djinn is unemployed. That doesn't mean that he isn't making any cash however -- not that he's about to tell you just how he does that. Its a secret held very close to the vest, one that only one other person in his life knows.

Outside of his 'business', Djinn is the owner and 'leader' of The Hideaway. The large warehouse turned apartment complex is something very near and dear to Djinn's heart. It's his home, and in a way, also his family.

Physical Description:
Djinn is a tall man by any standard, standing at a towering six foot three inches. His hair is in thick curls, sides shaved down into a tapered fade. Flesh smooth, his African and Filipino heritage keeps his skin a warm bronzy brown -- darkening into a sweet mocha in summer time. Djinn can always be found in one of his many leather jackets, fitted shirts and his favorite pair of torn up black jeans. His eyes are large brown, doe-like eyes, keeping an deceptive innocence to Djinn's appearance. It would be best not to trust them however. Never judge a book by its cover as they say.

Personality:
Djinn is a playful soul by nature. He enjoys teasing the other residents of the Hideaway, seeing most of them as friends -- if not family for some of the more senior residents. In his day to day, Djinn can be just as secretive and cunning as he is down to earth and joyful. Family is everything to Djinn. As a boy who came from nothing, to have this means the world to him. He will do anything to protect it.

Secretive | Cunning | Playful | Flirtatious | Loyal | Fatherly | Charismatic | Determined | Passionate | Helpful

Strengths:
Peacekeeper | Street Smarts | Smooth talker | Connections in the Coms | Fighting

Weaknesses:
Communication | Letting others in | Emotions | Four | Five | Six

Djinn's earliest memory is of his mother, of her body convulsing on the dingy mattress that sat opposite of his rickety crib. He remembers crying, calling to her for hours....days, as the hunger pains in his belly grew to unbearable aches. When his mother finally stilled, Djinn had thought she would come to him, feed him, but she never moved after that. She just.....stared. Far too young to comprehend what had happened, Djinn's next memory is of his father. Watching as his back walked out of their front door of their dingy little apartment. It was the first place he would have called a home, even having a neighbor boy that often spent time with him while his father was out. The next time that door would open however, it was not his father that walked through, but men in fitted navy uniforms promising that things would be better now.

They never got better.

By the age of seven Djinn had watched his mother die and been abandoned by the only other parental figure he'd ever had. He lasted six months in the local orphanage before he left, having decided that it was better to struggle on the street than to waist away in some dingy room full of strangers. Of course this was harder than Djinn would have ever imagined. He was nameless, homeless...familyless. In the coming years Djinn coined his own name, growing distant from those around him. He learned the ways of the streets: to fight, to cheat, to steal. He kept everyone at arms distance, heart closed to the world. To others he was a Ghost, slipping through the shadows on the whispers of the wind. He was infamous, name reaching even the darkest corners of the sullen streets.

It was at the age of fourteen, having spent half of his life in the cold streets of the Coms, that Djinn had found his place. It was an unusually heavy storm, the many layers of Zip City usually keeping any sort of precipitation at bay, and he'd only been looking for cover. It was by pure luck that he'd found his home, the memory still clear in his mind to this day. It was the beginning of the rest of his life; the creation of the family Djinn had never had.

Miscellaneous:

Leader of a notorious drug syndicate in Terran
Lead dealer of a new drug flooding Terran streets, and now Mezzo, called Divinity
Divinity is a blend of acid and ecstasy, highly addictive and reported to be connected to nearly 200 overdose deaths within the first 3 months of having been introduced to Zip City
Has a smoking habit
Loathes being emotionally vulnerable
Over protective of those that live in the Hideaway
Maya and Cornelia are basically his sisters. Don't mess with them

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

QUENTIN "QUEN' LOCHART

Name:
Quentin Lochart

Alias/Nicknames:
Quinn | Quen

Age:
Born May 17th, Quentin is twenty-two year old Taurus.

Gender:
Non-Binary | They/Them | He/Him
Though assigned male at birth, Quentin doesn't fully identify with that gender. He's not outright about his non-binary identity, though is far from ashamed of it. Unless asked, he won't outright express his gender -- though he does correct people to use they/them pronouns unabashedly.

Sexuality:
Pansexual
Being outside of the gender binary makes it hard to properly describe sexuality as it usually is described in the frame of a gender binary. To Quentin, they like who they like -- most others understanding this as bisexual or pansexual. Quen just likes to get laid okay.

Level:
Quentin has lived their entire life in the Mezzanine, though thanks to their father that all took a drastic turn.

Occupation:
Quen is an art teacher by day and bartender by night. During the day Quen works at a local community center, teaching several fine art classes. There is a beginner watercolor class, a live sketching course and intermediate charcoals. Art was always a passion of his and being able to spread that knowledge and love of art.

By night time, Quentin is a pick pocket. Going at night prevents his younger sister Maya from witnessing his less than legal means at cash grabbing. When he can't get cash directly, Quentin will take credit cards to copy and max out, or, steal jewlery to pawn off at the local shops. Whatever he can get his hands on really.

Physical Description:
Quentin is rather short and thin, standing at a meager five foot four inches. Describing themselves as 'vertically challenged', turning the thing that was often a sore spot for teasing during childhood, into a joke. Hailing from Swedish and Italian descent, Quentin has thick chocolate brown locks, brilliant light green orbs and lightly tanned skin. Glasses, often replaced by contacts, are thick rimmed black frames that only see the light of day on the off chance that Quentin runs out of contacts.

Never one particular about fashion, Quentin can often be found in a band t-shirt, flannel and jeans -- maybe even a jean jacket on the colder days in Zip City. When you spend your days painting and your nights pouring liquor and serving food, clothing wasn't all that important. One way or another they were going to get dirtied, so putting too much effort into it just didn't seem logical.

Personality:
Say what you will about zodiacs, Quentin is quite the stereotypical Taurus. Stubborn once their mind is made up, it is near impossible to change Quen's mind. Grounding themselves in reality, their past plays a key role in why Quen is the way they are. If it's not logical, they are quite adverse to it, especially when it comes to their younger sister Maya. Despite their stubbornness, making Maya happy is just as important to the artist

Optimistic | Loving | Playful | Caring | Loyal | Talkative | Practical | Reliable | Stubborn | Helpful | Sensual

Strengths:
Reliable | Patient | Artistic | Devoted | Listening | Baking | Cooking | Nimble fingers

Weaknesses:
Stubborn | Possessive | Uncompromising | Caring for themself | Five | Six

Likes:
Gardening | Painting | Drawing | Romance | Cooking | Learning | Reading | Cigarettes

Dislikes:
Lying | Sitting still | Quiet | Being alone | Failure | Insecurity | Sudden changes | Loud music | Drinking

Friends:
Jacob | Bellamy | Mackenzie

Enemies:
Pending...

History:
The past is something Quentin tries not to think about most days, though the more you think about something, the more it tends to stick in your mind. Twenty-three years ago, Quentin was born to an Italian immigrant in a dingy apartment, aunt playing as midwife. During the day their mother would work their day job as the maid to a rich man of which she never spoke. At night, when Quen couldn't sleep, they would sneak out of their bedroom, able to hear the soft whispers of their mother and aunt. It was on a night like this that Quen learned the truth, learned of their father that they had never met.

It was after this night that Quentin tried to reach out to the man, asking their aunt several times over about who the man was. She was closed off at first, brushing the child aside until Quen had worn her down enough that she gave in. At seven years old, Quen wrote their first letter to introduce themself to their father, having had to do a little bit of juvenile digging in order to find an address to send the childish letters to. When Quen's mother found out however.....she was furious. It was confusing to Quentin at the time, but now that they were older they understood.

Quentin was a bastard, an unwanted accident created via love affair -- though love was a strong word. Their mother may have felt it, but their father surely wasn't. They were bored and Quen's mother was vulnerable. Having learned of Quentin's conception, the live in maid was moved from the premises and into the dingy apartment that Quen was born. Upon receipt of the letters however, the man was furious, believing they were Quentin's mother's doing, a threat of sorts instead of a naive innocent child wanting to meet their father. This was the first rift within Quentin's relationship with their mother.

At the age of twelve, the curiosity had grown too great. The letters had gone unanswered and their mother refused to speak on the matter, growing increasingly angry each time Quen brought it up. Their aunt tried desperately to get the child to let it go, but Quentin was relentless. Following their mother to work one day, they slipped away to confront who they believed to be their father. The man was tall, pale with neat blonde locs and dazzling green eyes -- the very same eyes Quen had. There was a hint of recognition when they met, but it soon turned cold. Quen would never forget meeting their father, the disdain in their eyes, the disgust, the aching chill of an icy glare....

Quen's mother was furious when she learned what they had done, having cost the poor woman her job for the 'ruse' she was believed to have pulled. There was no doubt in Quen's mind that she blamed them for the loss of her lover, for the shitty little apartment they had, for the loss of her job. At the age of thirteen, Quentin was kicked out of their home, left with their aunt. Quen didn't hear of their mother for the next four years. It was with her passing that their aunt sat Quen down, expecting the tears to fall but nothing came. Quen was numb to it, unsure of what to feel for a woman who had never loved them, never wanted them; having dumped them the first chance that arose. It was the news of a sister that got a reaction. Being the only surviving relative, the aunt became the guardian to the children.

Maya was a sweet baby, rose cheeks and thick brown hair much like Quentin's. Their father's were different however, clear in the button shape of her nose and warm brown eyes. Unfortunately, their happily little 'family' wouldn't last, illness taking their aunt and leaving the children on their own. Quentin wouldn't allow them to be separated though, taking whatever job he could to keep their aunt's apartment and food on the table. There were many nights where Quen went without. Quentin would do anything for their sister, to keep her fed and happy no matter what the cost. It was around the death of their aunt that Quentin met Mackenzie, a scrappy, resourceful girl that easily worked her way into Quen, and Maya's heart.

It was because of Mac that Quentin was able to do even half of what he did, teaching him the in's and outs of self reliance. She quickly became a part of their little makeshift family, a piece that Quen wouldn't let go for the world.

Miscellaneous:

Has a six year old sister named Maya
Is still a virgin
Has a habit of rambling/stuttering when meeting new people
Is a pick-pocket trained by Mac herself
Hates being late no matter the reason
Dreams of being an artist but doesn't pursue it so they can care for Maya

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

HAKEEM QURESHI

Name:
Hakeem Qureshi

Alias/Nickname:
Hakeem usually goes by his full name, though those close enough are given the privilege to call him Keem for short.

Age:
Hakeem is a Leo, born August 19th, and is now a proud twenty-eight year old.

Gender:
Aligning with his gender assigned at birth, Hakeem is a cis male.

Sexuality:
Never one for the 'fairer sex', Hakeem is loudly and proudly gay. He's not about to shout it from rooftops, but he certainly doesn't shy away from having his sexuality known.

Level:
Born in the Coms, it was a miracle Hakeem's mother was able to get them out. Through hard work, and admittedly a bit of luck, they were able to move out of the crime-riddled lower level into something more serene. There are pleasant memories from his early childhood, however, and Hakeem does venture down for volunteer work once or twice a week.

Occupation:
Hakeem is a full time tattoo artists, spending most of his days in the shop working on custom designs. The other part of his day is spent networking, updating his social media and otherwise trying to pull in clients. His name has grown in popularity since he first began several years ago, however, with such a job, the work is never truly finished.

Less of a job and more of a hobby, Hakeem is also a photographer. Occasionally he'll snag a gig here and there to shoot someone's wedding or graduation photos, but Hakeem loves landscapes more. He can often be found with his camera in hand when not in the shop, shooting images of the Mezzanine and Terran, more so the latter. There's a gritty truth to the photo's he takes in the lower level, doing his best to capture the life that mills about. Terran's aren't treated as equals but Hakeem does hope that his photographs can make others see the people rather than the space.

Physical Description:
Hakeem stands at an even six feet tall. When he wears his finger shoes he does gain an inch and a half from the small heel of his favorite boots. Enjoying the finer things in life, Hakeem can usually be seen wearing expensive shirts, sweaters and high end shoes. Juxtaposing this are well worn jean and leather jackets, as well as his favored pairs of jeans. Fingers are adorned at all times with various thick wrings, wrists holding several beaded and leather bracelets.

Due to his Arab heritage, Hakeem is a beautiful warm ocher skin tone. Hair a deep chocolate brown, it's often styled in a loose quiff usually done by manually combing it back throughout various points throughout the day. Hakeem's brows are thick and jaw lined in well kept scruff, his steel eyes practically glow thanks to the warm brownness of his skin and deep tones of his hair.

Personality:
Hakeem is an outgoing guy, the life of the party and likes it. He can go up to anyone and start a conversation, finding several quick friends by the end of the night. It helps that he is naturally flirtatious, knowing just what people want to hear. That doesn't mean he's completely superficial however, often told he was a great listener. Those that Hakeem calls friends are few and far between, though extremely dear to his heart.

Outgoing | Charming | Protective | Flirtatious | Loyal | Thoughtful | Charismatic | Determined | Generous | Adventurous

Strengths:
Creative | Passionate | Listening | Cheerful | Warm-Hearted

Weaknesses:
Stubborn | Workaholic | Blunt | Arrogant | Obsessive | Easily manipulated

Collects different polaroid cameras
Loves having his hair played with
Easily attached to people -- obsessive by nature
Praise is his weakness
Has a motorcycle that he loves dearly
Has two cats Isabella and Muñeca

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

CADMUS AMHERST BANCROFT

Name:
Cadmus Amherst Bancroft
A name he wouldn't wish on his greatest enemy, Cadmus hates his name with a passion.

Alias/Nickname:
Cad
Refusing to use his full name, as it sounds like some horrible sci-fi horror knock off, Cadmus usually goes by Cad to those that know him....or at least are willing to speak to him that is....

Age:
21
Cadmus is at that ripe old age where adulthood and existential crisis of never living up to our own expectations gets a strangehold on our self esteem and laughs in our faces as we choke on indecision.

Gender:
Cis-Male
Born as the very same gender Cad identifies with, he is a cis male....not that he knows what the hell cis even means, but that is besides the point here.

Sexuality:
Gay | demisexual, borderline asexual.
Cad never really had an eye for women, even from a young age. He didn't have an eye for anyone really and during the age of puberty where everyone had their first crush, Cad was just.....there.

Level:
Cloud
Born into one of the longest standing families within the Cloud district, it was no surprise that Cad still lives there to this day. He comes from money and isn't afraid to use it. School was nothing but an obligation and his parents pockets are deeper than deep. He lives the life he chooses, when he chooses, how he chooses.

Occupation:
Unemployed
As his parents fund anything and everything that Cad could possibly want, there is no need for him to get a job. It's never even been a thought of his, not that he would have had the chance in his earlier years. Now, its a little too late to build that financial independence from his parents, and they'd much rather it this way so they can keep a keen eye on his finances.

Physical Description:
Tall and Lanky
Cadmus was born with natural muscle and a lean frame. It takes a lot for him to gain weight and because of this he's rather thin, though not enough (yet) to look sickly. His.....affliction, as his parents call it, also stave off his natural appetite, also making it difficult for him to gain any sort of weight be it muscle or not.

Standing at 5 feet and 11 inches, one would say he's relatively tall. Not extremely but more so than your average male. His skin is pale though holds the lightest hint of melanin from his east asian heritage. Natural black hair is bleached and dyed silver, usually combed into a relaxed style with his fingers. Brown eyes hold an innocence to them long destroyed with a small brown mole on his left cheek.

Cad's wardrobe, despite his money, isn't very flashy. Consisting of various pairs of ripped jeans, plain tshirts and hoodies with his favorite musicians names on them, one wouldn't be able to tell his status by just looking at him.

Personality:
Cadmus has always been a troubled boy, from the time he was four years old until now. His parents tried at first, quickly growing tired of their difficult child and leaving him to the nannies. It was due to this that Cad grew to be the way he was, that and a natural progression of chemical imbalances that no one could have foreseen.

Volatile | Violent | Paranoid | Aggressive | Impulsive | Rash | Combative | Loner | Resourceful | Witty

Strengths:
Fighter | Persuasive | Resourceful | Smart mouth

Weaknesses:
Stubborn | Violent | Self Control | Obstinate to authority | Obsessive | Easily manipulated

Has severe bipolar disorder, hospitalized for it
Beat a man to death in a fit of rage during a manic episode
Easily provoked
Unhealthy obsession with fire
Recovering drug addict
Prone to violent outbursts
Clingy

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

◬Torin Kingston◬

Name:

Torin Kingston

Nickname:

King | Tor | KT

Date of birth:

April 15th | Oakland, CA

Age:

19

Zodiac:

Aries

Gender:

Male

Sexuality:

Pansexual

Power:

Thermokinesis | Thermal Energy Manipulation
◬ User can create, shape and manipulate temperature, a form of kinetic energy between particles at the atomic or molecular level: the greater the movement of these particles, the greater the thermal energy and reversed.

Heat Generation

◬ The user can increase the kinetic energy of atoms, meaning they effectively make things hotter, ranging from slightly warm levels to absolute hot.

Incineration

◬ The user can utilize high temperatures to incinerate almost anything, reducing it to ashes.

◬ Melting | Fire ignition | Evaporation | Boiling

Freezing

◬ The user can reduce the kinetic energy of atoms meaning they effectively make things colder, ranging from slightly chilly levels to absolute zero.

Frostbite.

◬ The user can freeze up any part of an entity's body where one can turn the tissues and flesh into solid ice.

Infrared Perception

◬ The user is able to perceive the infrared spectrum, allowing them to see temperature variations in objects and environment.

Thermal Invisibility

◬ User is able to regulate their own body temperature in order to be invisible to thermal detection.

Limitations

◬ Must be in physical contact with an object in order to freeze it. -- this is not the case to heat.

◬ Extended use of heat or ice shifts his body temperature. This runs the risk of literally boiling (or freezing) himself alive.

◬ Cannot melt items that have a melting point higher than 3,000 degrees Farenheit. Cannot freeze items with a freezing point below absolute zero.

◬ Powers fluctuate with his mood. Though generally under control, extreme anger can trigger his thermokinesis.

Appearance:

Torin is a nugget, standing at five foot and four inches. He's thin and lanky with a young, rounded face. His doe-eyes exude an innocence that has been long since stolen from him. Hair a shocking neon green, he's hard to miss, his less than conventional clothing style only adding to it. A black metal choker is almost always wrapped around his neck, clothes consisting of black and/or leather. The most colorful thing about him is his hair.

Hair:

Neon green, Torin loves to dye his hair any array of colors. It's grown out down to his ears, often seen being brushed every which way as he gets restless. Usually left unmanaged and wild, his natural waves are more often than not on full display.

Eyes:

Mocha brown, Torin's gaze is deceptively innocent.

Height:

5ft 4

Build:

Nothing but skin and bone, Torin is rather scrawny for his lanky height. He has no interest in bulking up either. When you could burn anything you touch people tended to leave you alone. He has natural muscle but it stays undefined, his lack of physical power more than made up for with his mental abilities.

Personality:

Likes:

➤ Fighting
➤ Pain
➤ Loud music
➤ Makeup
➤ Reptiles
➤ Power
➤ Attention
➤ Bright colors

Dislikes:

➤Being alone
➤ The dark
➤ Authority
➤ Feeling helpless
➤ Early mornings
➤ Quiet
➤ Staring
➤ Being the center of attention
➤ Feeling left out

Background:

TW: ABUSE

Torin always knew there was something different about him, it was always the fear in his father's eyes every time he looked at him that gave it away really. If it weren't for the distance, the lack of touch, the lack of any sort of attention really -- it was definitely the eyes. The man was afraid of him, afraid of what his son could do should he feel so inclined. They thought he couldn't hear them, the arguments late at night that ended in warbling sobs and broken glass. Torin would lie in his bed at night, shaken by the things he heard, the fear that stayed locked inside of his father's gaze unleashed upon nightfall with venomous words. By the age of five Torin knew his father hated him.

The fights continued until he was seven, worsening with each passing day. His mother would always press a smile onto her broken face, ignoring the questions of deep purple bruises on her arms and cheeks. His father came home later and later, until he'd stop coming at all. Once, or maybe even twice a week he'd venture in, stumbling late at night only for the arguments to proceed once more. Torin had grown to hate his father. He was a menace, a vile being that hurt his mother and hated him in return. He never did understand it, but playing silent spectator to it all had grown too much. In the darkness of night, soft sounds of young feet padding down the hall, drowned out by the angry shouts of adults, Torin crept down the stairs. What he saw horrified him.

His father's face beat red with drink and anger, his mother barking back as she countered every argument he made. He couldn't make out what they were saying, shaken by the hate that emanated between the two. They were at war and within a single moment, his mother lost as she crumpled to the floor. A hard fist knocked her down, the sight pulling a gasp from Torin's lips -- and unfortunately gaining the attention of his father. Their eyes met and he knew that his father's anger had finally overgrown his fears.

Heavy steps seemed to shake the house as a young Torin scrambled back towards his bedroom. Torin felt true fear the moment his father's meaty hand wrapped around his ankle. He could hear his mother's screams in the background but they were a distant echo as he was dragged against the carpeted ground. His father's hands were heavy as they wrapped around his throat, young hands pressing against his chest, his face, anything to try and get him to let go. He was far too small, too weak, to stop him, breath coming in wheezing gasps that couldn't fill his lungs. Spots dotted his vision as the world began to fade, blackness inching over his gaze until it was nothing but pinholes of his father's angry, red face as warmth began to tingle through his fingertips.

Maybe his mother saw something he didn't, her cries fading slowly from Torin's ears. She was muttering, something he couldn't understand, but by the time her voice reached a pitch he could hear it was too late. "Torin no!"

They ruled it an accident, a simple faulty wire that caused a drunken man to meet his fate too early. His mother wasn't the same after that. They packed up what little was left and they moved several towns over. His mother didn't speak to him after that. She went through the motions, clothed him, fed him, but there was no connection there. She didn't spend a moment longer than she had to with him around. He tried tough...he tried to get his mother back. Even a painfully forced smile was better than nothing. The drinking started soon after they moved.

Each night a new bottle of wine. Then two. Then she was drinking during the day. She stopped ignoring him completely, though the gaze she fixed upon him was the very same his father once had. He was no longer her son. Instead, Torin was the thing that killed her husband. The first time she hit him had been a shock. Torin knew that gaze well and with his mother's recent change in attitude he thought he'd go on to be ignored. He's simply announced he was going to school and her hand came swiftly across his cheek. She slurred out an angry hiss, "I'm not....your fucking mother," and stumbled back into the living room.

Her little outbursts grew increasingly common place, and by the time Torin was twelve, he'd become an expert at hiding the bruises. He was quiet and studious, keeping to himself lest anyone learn of his mother. Despite her anger and her abuse, he never once lashed out at her. Sometimes she'd yell at him for it, and Torin would often wonder if she wanted him to. Maybe she wanted him to do the same thing to her that he'd done to her father so she wouldn't feel obligated to be tied to him any longer......he still wondered about that sometimes.

When Torin turned fourteen he met Conner, a blonde with a deceptively sweet face. He pulled Torin in, showered him with the attentions he lacked at home and for once, made him feel safe. He was young, stupid and so easily manipulated. He wanted nothing more than to be wanted, and Conner gave him that. He gave him everything he'd ever craved, and in return Torin bared his soul. He was Conner's toy, used as the blonde saw fit. Their 'relationship' was simple at first. All Torin had to do was sneak the alcohol from his mother, slip some cash from her wallet when she was passed out on the couch, small petty crimes of that nature. When Conner learned what Torin could do, however, things got much much darker.

By the age of seventeen, the two were inseparable. Torin was Conner's attack dog -- growing in power as he forced anyone Conner wished into submission. He was high and in love and it felt like he was on top of the world.

Until he wasn't.

Conner had left him behind without so much as a glance back. Torin took the fall.....for everything. He couldn't, not even with being abandoned, betray Conner. He was stuck on him, in the worst ways. Police interrogate him for days on end. They couldn't figure out the how. Clearly there had been more than one person, that much was clear. Torin wasn't giving them up, but what they wanted to know more than anything, was how. How could a group of teens break into half the places that they could? How could Torin move so easily undetected? How did they find nothing but ashes and shoes? How?

That's when he met him, the 'director'. He promised shelter, education, and to teach Torin about his powers. What the boy wanted more than anyhing was to go back to Conner, but that wasn't an option now. It was a jail cell or a school he'd never even heard of before.

At least in a school he could always get out...

Extra:

➤ Obsessed with his ex.

➤ Constantly dyes his hair.

➤ Fast-talker, fidgets, has a lot of unused energy.

➤ Plays guitar

➤ Ear, septum and nipple piercings.

➤ Cuddle monster

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

Tyree Reinal

Name:
Tyree Malik Reinal

Nickname:
Ty | Ree | TyTy

Age:
Appears 20
Actually 357 years old

Gender:
Male

Sexual orientation:
Bisexual

Occupation:
Owner of Fortune 500

Nationality:
Korean | Japanese

Hair colour:
Black

Eye color:
Brown | Fiery orange when hungry

Height:
6ft 5in

Weight:
Body modifications:
Tattoos covering most of his body | Small gauges | Pierced brow - Left

Personality:
Charismatic | Cocky | Sarcastic | Playful | Flirt | Crass | Blunt | Loyal | Hard-headed | Easily bored | Shallow

Likes:
Sex | Alcohol | Coke | Weed | Loud music | Cute boys | Fashion | Teasing people | River's ass | Parties | Simon's ass | Massages | Shopping | Money | Gold things | Blood | Secrets | Taboo relationships | Tattoos | Piercings | Being rich | Fresh blood | Eunnae's ~~ass~~ Personality

Dislikes:
Self righteous people | Know-it-alls | homophobes | sweet food | Serious people | Cold blood | Blood packs | Religion

Talents:
Singing | Dancing | Plays several instruments | Speaks several languages | Sex | Persuasive

Fears:
Isolation | Falling in Love | Cockroaches (they're fucking disgusting okay)

Character Biography:
Tyree doesn't much like thinking about his past, not because it was particularly horrible, but because there wasn't much to gain from thinking about it. His turning had been an accident really, a rogue vampire feeding his gluttonous appetite by happenstance. You see, Ty and his mother lived on the edge of their tiny village. It wasn't exactly well liked that she had no man to claim her and her bastard son and so, in not so many words, they were cast out. They were left on their own, to defend against the creatures that prowled through the night. Housed in a shack at best, there was just enough space for a fireplace and a cot.

Ty had been out gathering wood for his aging mother, the fast approaching winter chilling him to the bone, rattling his mother's chest with aching coughs. The feeling in his toes had long since left him, lips blue and body half frozen as he trudged home only to find the door hanging limply on its hinges. His was lay crumpled on the floor, face pale with tears slowly freezing against her expressionless face. Above her something sat hunched, face buried in her neck. Startled, and rightfully so, the wood tumbled from Tyree's arms as fear gripped his heart. The clatter of wood against the ground had that creature's head snapping up to him. It's mouth was stained a brilliant red that glistened in the moonlight that filled the doorway.

The next few moments were a blur really, but Tyree remembered fear, nothing but raw unfiltered fear...and pain. The pain of losing his mother. The pain of teeth sinking into his flesh. The pain of knowing his life was cut too short too soon.

When morning came, Tyree was...confused. The sun made his skin itch, eyes ache and he crawled as fast as he could to the nearest patch of shade. His throat was dry, as if he'd been screaming all night, head aching as the memory's last night resurfaced. The memory of his mother made him dry heave, but he hadn't eaten enough in days to even muster up a drop of anything. That creature was gone too, why he left forever lost to the boy. Tyree never saw him again after that night, left to find out what he was when the thirst became too much.

He was the demon his village feared for years, decades passing as he hunted the very same woods that he had lost everything in, but soon the forest became bland, the village changed and Tyree was nothing but a scary story parents told to misbehaving children. Restless in the same woods he'd known for nearly a century, Tyree decided to travel. He had figured out what he was, knew that he had more than enough time to waste, and sitting alone in a forest for his next meal to wander in was just not the life that Tyree wanted to lead.

After wandering for a while, learning a myriad of things, Tyree landed in Britain where he now lives. The time between then and now of little consequence to him. It was a time filled with sex, drugs, feeding and liquor. Finding that he rather liked those things, Tyree happy drowns himself in them. It's not like he has anything to lose.

Extras:
Topping | Oral (Receiving) | Biting | Scratching | Slapping | Hair pulling | Rough sex | Public sex | Multiple orgasms | Edging | Orgasm denial | Dominating | Choking | Facials (giving) | Doggy style | Getting ridden | Bondage

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

Name: Ezekial

Nickname: Zeke

Age: 20

Occupation: n/a

Sexuality: Undetermined

Type: half-shifter

Patron: Tasmanian Devil

Human Form:

Zeke stands at around 5' 8" with dark black hair, parted towards the right. A single white streak ran through the left side of his hair, just above his ear. Eyes were a soft green that showed nearly all of his emotions, usually rimmed with fading blue-ish bruises. He was naturally tanned, turning a light bronze if he was out in the sun too long. By all means he was attractive, though the usual bruised face and bloody knuckles usually kept people away.

Shifted Form:

Not exactly large and imposing, what Ezekial lacks in size he makes up for in speed. Teeth as sharp as razors, he has a nasty bite that could tear through any flesh and leave gaping wounds. He isn't one to mess with human nor animal, quick and deadly regardless of his opponents size.

Personality:
Ezekial is a loud mouth with a penchant for getting himself into trouble. Despite that he's a bleeding heart. He wants to help any and everyone, though his tactics aren't always the smartest. He'll do anything for his groups cause, anything to free girls and boys, men and women, from the slum of the trading markets and their buyers. He loathes them and anyone who defends them with every inch of his heart.

Strengths:
fighting | loyal | impulsive | caring

Weaknesses:
socializing | cooking | making friends | his temper | impulsive

Secrets/Kinks:
He's never had his first kiss
biting
compliments make him flustered
edging
teasing
having his hair played with
masochist
gets awkward post-fight boners

History:

Ezekial's life was never pretty, never nice and never loving. He had been on his own for as long as he could remember. His earliest memories were of picking food out of trashcans and sleeping in the plastic tube slides at the public park. When he was six, a man in a neat shirt and overly clean face, lured a young, naive Zeke away with the promise of food and a place to sleep. He only got one of those, a small corner of a packed room full of children as young as three and as old as seventeen. What food they did get were nothing but crumbs by the time Zeke had even known it was in the room, and if it wasn't for his sweet face he would have starved before he was sold.

He was seven when his first master bought him. He was young, perhaps mid-thirties, and handsome in the traditional sense. He had a lavish home, gave Zeke a bed, as much food as he wish, and even new clothes. For the first few months it was good, amazing, and Zeke thought that he'd found a proper home, but he had made the mistake of wandering to the kitchen late one night and saw something that he shouldn't have. It was a boy, just a few years older than himself, and his new master. Zeke didn't understand it then, what they were doing, but he figured it out later on, why they were naked, what those sounds meant. It's what they were bought for, what he was bought for. When he was 'old enough' of course, something that his master would always coo to him.

Zeke lived with him still, for years, unaware of his own fate. There were hints to it, lingering touches and longing looks that he didn't quite understand. By the time he was ten, they would share a bed, baths, Zeke could always be found at his master's side. He never really understood why he was treated so well until the time came. He was given a hearty meal, just him and his owner, bathed and dressed in a thin robe a few months after his thirteenth birthday. Led to his masters bedroom, he was told to wait, confused because it was far too early for bed time. Ezekial didn't have to wait for an answer all that long though, the man waltzing it sans shirt and a look in his eye that made the young teen quite....uncomfortable.

What happened next Ezekial blocked from his memory. All he does remember is what happened afterward, the blood, the screaming. There was red everywhere, it coated his hands, his cheeks his body. The master was covered in it as well, face unrecognizable as he lay motionless beneath the young boy he'd attempted to claim.

With the master dead, Ezekial was returned to the markets, as well as the other boys in the house who hadn't fled after seeing what Master's Favorite had done. No one wanted a boy with Zeke's past, not in a domestic setting, and certainly not the high paying men such as his previous owner. That really only left two markets to sell him into, often intertwining, -- torture and fighting. Ezekial's second owner was far less attractive than his previous one. He was burly, tanned flesh from hard labor. He was thickly muscled with scars the young boy didn't want to know how they came to be.

It took almost a year before that man showed up, picked him out of the crowd not because of his pretty face, but because of his blood-soaked past. So he was chosen and taken and broken before he was built back up. Molded into the perfect little fighter, days were spent inside a cage with boys older and younger, fighting until one of them couldn't get back up. Money was thrown at them nightly, but Zeke never saw a dime. Ezekial fought and he bled and then he fought some more. For four years, fighting was all he knew, but just like before Zeke was quick to become a favorite. He was lithe, fast and ferocious -- a combination that won him plenty of fights.

Losing wasn't an option, the screams of those who lost one too many times echoing in the cold halls. Again, it was about four or five of them to a room, not much better than where the trader's held them, but just like then they were nothing but cattle. They were here to make money and that was all. That's all he was good for, fighting, violence, causing pain. Zeke had resigned himself to this life, one decidedly much better than whatever he was to face at the hands of his previous master. He was okay with it, not exactly happy, but okay, when they came. It was dark, somewhere between three and four in the morning, but he could hear screams. Someone pulled him out of bed, dragged him out and shoved him in with all the other boys.

They were a group, saviors. Unlike his past owners, there were no conditions to staying with them, nothing owed to them for the food and warm bed. Most they helped relocate but those like Zeke, they wished to stay. They didn't have a name though, because if they had a name they could be found and that was the last thing they needed. They were like Zeke, men and women who'd been taken, stolen, traded, beaten, only for it to all repeat until they decided to do something about it. Zeke wanted to be a part of that, to stop these people, to keep children from suffering the way they all had.

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

NAME:

Chen Do

NICKNAMES:

Chen | Do | Psycho

AGE: [ 21-25 ]

24

BIRTH DATE:

September 4th

GENDER:

Male

SEXUALITY:

Bisexual

- male preference

ETHNICITY:

Chinese

CURRENT OCCUPATION:

unemployed

in an amateur band with...associates....

CURRENT RESIDENCE:

Beverly Hills, California

HAIR:

Dark Brown

EYES:

Dark Brown

HEIGHT:

5' 8"

WEIGHT:

120lbs

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES:

Shaggy dark brown hair that's often in his face

Tattoos down his left forearm

Ears pierced

BODY BUILD:

Thin with a natural layer of sinewy muscle

CLOTHING STYLE:

Usually wears some sort of Hawaiin shirt with khaki colored jeans and vans. He pulls off the lazy skater boy look with ease.

HEALTH AILMENTS:

Borderline Personality Disorder

LIKES:

DISLIKES:

PERSONAL STRENGTHS:

PERSONAL WEAKNESSES:

FEARS:

losing his only friend

people finding out he nearly killed someone

never finding love

being stuck in this town for the rest of his life

SECRETS:

Beat a man half to death when he was 20

Tried to burn down the school for revenge

HABITS:

Lip biting | can't make prolonged eye contact | twirls his hair | fiddles with long earrings when he wears them

PERSONALITY:

THOUGHTS:

"There's something going on with him. He's different from before and he knows something. I don't trust him, no one should, but no one will listen to me. I'll keep my eye on him."

HIDDEN DESIRES:

Move away and start fresh

Control his mood swings

Find someone who won't judge him for his past

TABOOS:

rape/assault

RELATIONSHIPS:

The New Girl:

The Bad Boy:

I don't trust him and I never have, no one should. He knows too much about everyone and he's here for something. He's always here for something...

The Teen Idol:

I never really knew him but he seemed okay. His sister is my friend though and I like her so he can't be too bad...right? There's something off about him though.

The "Perfect" Princess:

The Pretty Boy Prince:

WooJin likes to party and so did I so I know him...kinda. We never talked much but he's kind of self-centered.

The Major Wannabe:

I hate her. I thought she was my friend, my best friend, but she left me like I didn't even matter, like she didn't even know me. She's different now, fake. It's disgusting, she's disgusting. I wish I never met her. She ruined my life.

The Sweetheart:

They're family but....she doesn't act like it. I guess I don't either, neither of us do. I thought, maybe, things would change after it happened but no, nothing did.

The "Dumb Blonde":

The Rich Bitch:

The Secret Homosexual:

He's quiet and alone, kinda like me. I've seen him and WooJin together sometimes so I guess they're friends?

The Loving Lesbian:

Harper is amazing. She's a bit much at times but, after everything, she was the only one who treated me like a person, like I still matter. I love her. I'd do anything for her. She's my best friend.

The Pretender:

The Varsity Jock:

EXTRA:

"I don't want to live, but I'm too scared to die."

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

PHOTOGRAPHS ARE MEMORIES YOU CAN'T FORGET

BENTLEY HUTTON
The Softest Bean

Full Name:

Bentley Hutton

Age & Birthday:

20 | July 18th

Gender:

Male Beta

Orientation:

Homosexual

Fashion Style:

All of the big shirts and sweaters with tight skinny jeans. Bentley has the comfy boy style down pat without looking lazy or frumpy.

Occupation:

Social Media Influencer

Nationality:

Korean | Swedish | Spectrum Citizen

Personality:

Shy | Endearing | Naive | Sensitive | Nervous | Happy | Thoughtful | Passionate | Loving

Likes:

Instagram | Being indoors | Taking photos | Cute clothes | Texting | Making jokes | Video games | Bubblegum | Lime Green | Lollipops | Music

Dislikes:

Outside | Socializing | Talking to new people | The dark | Being a beta

Are you mated?

No, though I would like to be. No one really wants a beta mate though. We're useless in the grand scheme of things, even if my parents tell me to be optimistic. Alpha's want omega's and beta's aren't allowed to be with omega's, not in the long term. I'll never be mated but I guess that's okay. It's not like I go out anyways haha~!

What was your childhood like?

Before, life was terrible. I was hungry all the time, scared, cold. But after my father's found me life was happy. I was happy.

Tell me about your parents and siblings:

My fathers are the best! I love them so much. My birth parents had left me when I was young on some back street. I don't like to talk about them too much actually.

What's a significant event in your life?

My parents finding me. Without them I'd probably be dead. I still remember when they found me, even though I was little. I stole from Papa, took his wallet out of his pocket but he caught up to me. At first they were angry but when they found me, instead of beating me like most would, they took me home. I was really scared at first but they were so kind to me and then, when they asked if I wanted to stay, I cried. It was like a dream come true.

I was scared to fall asleep after that, just in case it really was a dream. Sometimes I still wonder...

What's your most embarrassing moment?

Uh..my entire existence? Ah, I'm joking....mostly. I'm really not any good with people and I don't like going out much. Beta's aren't too well loved and, well, I saw that first hand as a child. I'd rather not go through that again so I mostly stay indoors to avoid it. Dad and Papa try to get me out more but eh, I'm just not all that ready yet.

I do remember once, when I was younger, Papa gave me a list of chores to do around the house. I never learned how to read as a child and I didn't want to say I couldn't, so I just cleaned the whole house. When Papa came back he was confused and asked why I did so much. Admitting I couldn't read was really embarrassing but Papa started tutoring me at home and Dad got me really cool books!

What the scariest thing you've ever experienced?

There are more instances of this than I can count on one hand. Being a beta, abandoned on the streets, it's absolutely terrifying. I'd rather not talk about that though...

What was/is your school life like?

I didn't go to school. My birth parents abandoned me but my Papa and Dad homeschooled me so I know normal stuff I guess. It was nice, Papa was a great teacher and Dad would help me study sometimes too.

What languages do you know?

English definitely. I know just a little Chinese because of my Papa. That was his native language but he only really spoke it to me since, Dad didn't speak much of it.

What is your most prized object?

My most prized object would probably be my phone....or maybe my laptop....I really can't live without either. My entire life is on those things, as sad as that it, but its true. I love all of my followers and when they comment or message me I get really happy. They're really all so sweet!

Do you have any pets?

I have a pretty calico cat named Speckles! I found her wandering the house when I still lived with my parents. She was really skinny and sickly but with Dad and Papa's help, we got her all fixed up. Now she lives with me in my apartment. I love her more than anything.

Kinks?

Unknown for now.

Extra:

- Bently has several genetic mutations due to his beta/omega parentage.

- A rare condition called heterochromia.,leaving him with one eye color of each parent. It's why he was abandoned in the first place -- so the pair could keep their secret and keep each other.

- A few days once a month his scent edges towards noticeably sweet and his libido increases. Bentley is still genetically a Beta, however, thanks to his omega father, there are mutations in his genes that give him omega traits.

- He stands at a rather shameful five foot and one inch.

- His childhood isn't something that he likes to talk about much, but whatever happened as left him with deep anxiety about being outside. It doesn't help that his eyes are a stark reminder of just how much of an outcast he really is. Their his biggest insecurity

- Bentley is quite passionate about his social media life. He considers his followers his friends.

- Bentley can be quite meticulous about his photographs. He'll change his outfit multiple times a day depending on the 'mood' he wants for the photo. If he wasn't so scared of the world, he would probably be a professional photographer by now.

- Bentley has a severe sweet tooth. Don't let this boy have candy, he won't eat anything else.

- Bentley has never so much as held someone's hand let alone had his first kiss. He reads a lot of fanfiction.

- Being accepted is one of Bentley's greatest needs. He doesn't handle rejection well and usually reverts into himself

- Loves all things soft and fluffy

- Has a P.O. box for fanmail

Theme Song:

STATUS BAR

Location: N/A
Interactions: N/A
Mentions: N/A

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

IF YOU WANT IT, SPEAK IT INTO EXISTENCE

ZAYAN MASSOUD
A Little Happiness Goes A Long Way

Full Name:

Zayan Nahir Massoud

Age & Birthday:

23 | January 14th

Gender:

Male Alpha

Orientation:

Bisexual - male preference

Fashion Style:

Zayan's style is casual. Usually a plain tshirt and jeans, nothing too fancy. Occasionally he'll 'spice things up' with a jacket or a scarf when its cold out.

Occupation:

Receptionist at a Dentist office.

Nationality:

Singaporean | Creole | Audarian | Spectrum citizen

Personality:

Quiet |Bookish | Loyal | Kind-hearted | Thoughtful | Passionate |Playful | Observant | Reliable | Wary | Humble | Intelligent | Loving

Likes:

Tea | Reading | Animals | Quiet | Helping | Cooking | Baking | Writing | Singing | Listening to music

Dislikes:

Loud noises | Arguing | His nightmares | Burdening others

Are you mated?

No I'm not, though it's something I would like in the future if I ever find the one. It's not really something that I think about every day, though I mean.....there is someone I wouldn't mind being mated too yknow....

What was your childhood like?

My childhood was happy. My father was a kind man, religious but understanding. My sister was.....she was everything to me, and my mother was beautiful. We were happy, talked and played games. We were like any normal family.

Tell me about your parents and siblings:

My sister was my everything. She was four years younger and I was so proud to be a big brother. She was so creative and always smiling, always drew me pictures and I would read her bedtime stories.

My mother was an angel in human form, of that I'm certain. She would sing to us when the fighting became too loud and her cooking is just the best.

My father was a kind man. He was the more strict out of the two but I knew I could come to him for anything. He was the rock of our family. He didn't deserve what happened to him, then again, none of us did.

What's a significant event in your life?

The bomb. It changed everything, though you'd probably think I would say the war huh? The war didn't change much, not really at first. Sure school was soon canceled more often than not and going out wasn't as safe, but for the most part things were fine. It was the bomb that tore through our house and took half of my family, took part of my hearing and vision that really changed everything. I lost everything that day. Even though my mother didn't physically die, her heart did. She's a shell of the woman she once was. I miss her. I miss my father and my sister. I miss my old life.

What's your most embarrassing moment?

Writing a confession letter in class in middle school and having the teacher make me read it out loud because I wasn't working on school work in class. It was god awful. The poor kid I wrote it too didn't come to school for a week after that, I felt awful and the teacher didn't look me in the eye for a month.

What the scariest thing you've ever experienced?

Without a doubt it was the bomb that leveled half of my house. My ear is still ringing from it and waiting fo the dust to settle, to see if my family had been ripped away from me, it's the worst kind of fear I've ever known.

What was/is your school life like?

School was great. I had so many friends there, friends I haven't seen in a very long time. I wonder how some of them are doing now, if they're okay or even alive. It's been three years since the war had started and three years since I've heard from them. The worst part is the not knowing.

What languages do you know?

Um, well....Arabic and English I speak fluently. We had to learn English in school since we bordered english speaking nations. It's an odd language I'll say that.

What is your most prized object?

A bracelet I made with my sister. We had matching friendship bracelets we made when we were little. I still wear mine to this day.

Do you have any pets?

Unfortunately no. I do feed the strays that I see when I can though, so I suppose they're sort of pets?

Kinks?

Tattoos | Outgoing personalities | a cute laugh | voyeurism | biting | leaving/receiving hickeys | hair pulling | public sex | passionate sex | body worship | edging | orgasm denial | Licking

Extra:

- Lost his father and sister to a bomb that dropped near his house one ear ago

- Left partially blind in his left eye and totally deaf in that ear

- Has a thick Arabic accent thanks to only recently moving to Spectrum

Theme Song:

STATUS BAR

Location: N/A
Interactions: N/A
Mentions: N/A

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

I WANT TO WATCH THE WORLD BURN WITH YOUR HAND IN MINE.

ARMOND ZARIAH
I'll fuck your bitch, and your bitch's bitch

Full Name:

Armond Zariah

Age & Birthday:

24 | October 31st

Gender:

Male Omega

Orientation:

Beta-sexual
Homosexual

Fashion Style:

Armond is all about sensuality and allure. He enjoys silk robes, sheer fabric and things that show off his lithe body well. When he's home though he's a glutton for baggy hoodies that belong to his lover and nothing else.

Occupation:

Technically Armond is a stripper, but he prefers the term 'Dancer'

Nationality:

Armond was born in Audaria and lived there for most of his childhood before his parents relocated to Spectrum.
So he has dual-citizenship in both countries.

Personality:

Bratty | Calculating | Bitter | Playful | Deceitful | Vengeful | Antagonistic | Self-destructive | Self-loathing

Likes:

Parties | Dancing | Alcohol | Sex | Netflix | Erik's sweaters | Being alone | Chaos | the color red | drinking | cocaine | manipulating people | flirting | Loud music

Dislikes:

Relationships | Nosy people | Being told what to do | being home alone | quiet | Spectrum | Alphas

Are you mated?

.....I was. To an amazing, beautiful, kind-hearted beta. His name is-...was Erik. We were so in love that it hurt. We were going to move back to my home country, where beta's and omega relationships weren't illegal like they are here but we never made it. Someone, somehow, learned about us, about our relationship and our plans. They ripped him from my arms and made an example out of him on national television.

......We were going to have a family you know, but they stole that from me too.....

What was your childhood like?

My childhood was like any other. I had two loving parents, small suburb. Audaria was great, I loved it there. We moved for my mother's work. There were just more opportunities for her in Spectrum, and I hated it. People made fun of me for being an omega, something I never understood. They're stupid and full of themselves. Gluttonous idiots that all need to fucking rot.

Tell me about your parents and siblings:

I don't really talk to my parents anymore. I don't talk to anyone anymore really. They were nice, sweet, caring. They weren't too happy with me mating a beta, mostly for safety reasons but they kept our secret. A part of me wonders if they were the one's to tell but I'd like to think my parents wouldn't ever do that to me.

I should probably call them......probably won't though.

What's a significant event in your life?

A part of me wants to say that it was the day we moved to this shit town. I'd go home if there wasn't a horrid civil war going on. Maybe that would be better than this ass backwards place anyways. If I never moved here, I never would have met the love of my life, never would have lost Erik, watched him die before my very eyes.....never would have had my child stolen from me before they even took their first breath....

What's your most embarrassing moment?

Well, there was this one time...it was my second date with Erik I think. Our first had been a double date, I was there with a friend for her first date with this cute omega she met online. They're still going strong I think. I was so nervous about, and when I met him he was just so cute, it triggered an early heat. Erik rushed me out of the restaurant so fast I think he broke the sound barrier! He drove me home while I barely held it together in the passenger seat. By the time we reached my place I was practically dry humping him and begging him to fuck me.

It was....so damn embarrassing. I know it was hard for him too. We used to joke about how bad he wanted to pull over the whole time. I was a mess..

What the scariest thing you've ever experienced?

The day the police came knocking on our door. It felt like a nightmare, like a dream I couldn't wake up from. Somtimes, when I first wake up, it still feels like Erik should walk in, with that big dumb smile on his face and our favorite drinks from the cafe below our apartment.

What was/is your school life like?

School was alright when I was in Audaria. The kids were nice and we always played outside together. When we moved, I didn't know English well at all so I stayed mostly to myself. The one's who did bully me for being an omega either got socked in the fucking face or cursed out in Arabic -- not that they realized the latter was happening. Whatever.

I never went to college. I didn't know what I wanted to do so I started dancing just to help make ends meet and gain a little independence.

What languages do you know?

Well obviously I know Arabic and English. They taught us Spanish in school so I know some of that too. For some reason clients go fucking nuts for Spanish. They're all drunk or high or horny anyways so who cares. Whatever makes me the most money at the end of the night really.

What is your most prized object?

The choker Erik gave me when we mated. I wear it all the time and never take it off. He would call me dove so he bought me a black choker with a dove pendant and a sapphire gem on it to match his eyes. If anything happened to it....

Do you have any pets?

I can barely take care of myself and you want me to care for a pet? Keep dreaming. The last two things I ever cared for were killed because of me. I'm cursed. No need to bring some poor innocent creature into my trainreck of a life.

Kinks?

Topping alphas | partners who beg | rough sex | emotionless sex | hair pulling | biting | scratching | pain | blood play | bdsm | power | breath play | choking

Extra:

- Openly admits to a drug habit. His vice is cocaine and he likes to mix a dangerous cocktail of uppers and downers

- He became a dancer before he met his late mate. it's how they met and he supported Armond's love of dance

- He has a tattoo of his mate's birth and death date as well as his unborn child's conception and death date tattooed amongst picturesque clouds on his right forearms, just beneath his elbow.

- Always had a thing for betas, but after his mate's execution, he turned to alphas, especially the submissive ones. He thoroughly enjoys having power over them in the bedroom seeing as he has little to none in the real world. He can be a cruel master but there's no love lost. They keep coming back to him.

- Though he's not a prostitute, Armond does accept money for sex. He doesn't ask for it, but if some shmuck is desperate enough to hand over handfuls of cash after emptying his wallet during one of his dances, then by all means, Armond won't deny him that.

- Loves reds and pinks and all things gold

- Really enjoys glitter

- Deceased mate's name is Erik

- If one day Audaria's war spread to Spectrum and the whole damn thing burned, Armond would be all too happy to add feul to the flames.

Theme Song:

STATUS BAR

Location: N/A
Interactions: N/A
Mentions: N/A

RAIN.cloud · Aug 11, 2019

I EXIST TO LIVE, NOT LIVE TO EXIST

CHARACTER FILE

Name:
Antonio Lang

Age:
27

Gender:
Male

Class:
Greaser

Occupation:
Sentry

Personality:
To put it simply, Antonio is one cocky bastard. He flirts with anything with a hole in it, at least, that's what his friends say about him. He's your stereotypical 'casanova' type. He likes to woo both women and men alike with a charming smile and sweet words. He's had more people in his bed than he probably should have considering the state of the world, but hey, we all got needs right? Antonio also has the tendency to say the first thing that comes to mind, which has gotten him into quite a few skirmishes. Despite his cocky asshole demeanor, he's not all that bad. He truly believes that the world will be okay, maybe not in his lifetime, but one day.
He's a loyal son of a bitch once you win him over too, and he never has, nor will he ever, leave someone behind.

Background:
Antonio was adopted at age eight by Karissa and Martin. They were a happy family, really close and they showered him with all of the love that parents could possibly give their children. It was with the pregnancy of his younger sister Shyanne, when Antonio was eleven, that things changed. No one could have seen it coming, the complications during the birth just kept coming. First they found that Karissa had preeclampsia, then the umbilical cord was wrapped around Shyanne's neck, then she needed a C-section, and then.....and then... and then. Problem after problem arose and, needless to say, Karissa didn't make it. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise. She didn't have to see the world fall apart. Karissa didn't have to see her family abscond to the closest Safety Shelter just to find that it was 'too full'. They weren't sure if that was a crock of shit or not, but the family of three were left to wander on their own.

Antonio was seventeen by then, tasked with finding food for his six year old sister and aging father. It was during scavenging that he found the Greaser camp. They called themselves Vipers, pretty badass sounding to a seventeen year old. They took the family in, clothed them, fed them, and taught Antonio how to fight. It had been ten years since then and Antonio, Martin, and his sister Shyanne still stayed within the, somewhat, safe walls of the Vipers camp, at least that's what they called themselves. Antonio much preferred the regular term Greaser. Viper was just.....fucking corny.

Family:
Mother - Karissa - Deceased [X]
Father - Martin - Alive [X]
Sister - Shyanne - Alive

Goal:
Kill as many Lurkers as possible and return the earth back to what it was.

Equipment:
Binoculars | Water canteen | Whistle| Swiss army knife

Weapons:
sniper rifle | 2 handguns | Hunting knife

Skills:
Sniper [Expert] | Hand-to-Hand [Advanced] | Knives [Adept] | Survival [Adept] | Cooking [Novice] | First Aid [Novice]

Miscellaneous:
Antonio sports quite a bit of ink, usually hidden beneath his mass of clothing to protect him from the heat of day and weapons of outsiders. On his side sports a large crow taking over the majority of his flesh. His right forearm holds a tree, while his left depicts a man in a gas mask holding a rose, oddly fitting now. He has an entire piece covering his right pectoral and wrapping down his arm, though he never got to connect the two pieces since all this shit went down.

STATUS BAR

Location: N/A
Interactions: N/A
Mentions: N/A

Character Storage

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis

Never Ending Existential Crisis