► Name: Jesteramnovina (Jes-ter-am-nu-vee-nah) Jostillian (Joss-till-e-an)
► Age: Twenty
► Gender: Male
► Date of Birth: August Twenty-Seventh
► Class: Lower
► Glow: Pink
► Appearance: A man of average height Jester does not tower above others like some of the men of his time tend to do, or even the women for that matter. A rather lanky frame holds him, often adorned with simple clothing that a person of his status would be found in. Baggy shirts, too long trousers, and thin parkas are his normal attire, encapsulating his form to try to hide him from the reality that plagues the air. A full set of lips and perhaps a too big nose dot his face, a strong jawline and round chin finishing off his facial features. To most people just trying to get by in the lower class, or those fortune enough to belong to the upper or elite class, he is nothing. It is when "The Jester" is brought up, do people cause a bit more of a stir. In his seemingly other persona, Jesteramnovina can be a bit of a card. Makeup adorns his features, elongating his eyelashes and further plumping his lips. Clothes of wild colors hang off him loosely, exposing his chest and long arms. Paint of different colors and consistences can be seen over his body, his blue eyes inviting as he greets others in to his abode to see his work. It is easy to put on an act, especially when the only form of decas he gets is when he's sold something.
► Height: 5'10
► Weight: 124 lbs
► Hair Color:
An ash blonde that seems to glow in the fluorescent lights of clubs and gallerias. A natural curl swoops the front of his eye length hair, a more subtle coif compared to those of the upper or elite statuses. Hardly does he style it, instead letting it's natural aura take hold in bouts of curl and random lengths of straightness.
► Eye Color:
A subtle blue that seems to wash over the features of the people he is speaking to, taking in their every last detail in only the way an artist can. Sky blue starts off around his pupil, filling out into a wonderful ocean blue the farther away it grows. Flecks of white seem to swim in his irises, making a person stop and meet his gaze if just out of a small part of curiousity to see who he is.
► Skin: Ivory
► Markings: Freckled Cheeks and Nose Bridge
► Tattoos/piercings: Earring Studs
► Defects: Slight Lisp
► Power: Visual Art Manupulation i.e Depictukinesis
Jester has the innate ability to take blank canvasses, or already covered pieces, and turn them into the product of his own imagination. Swirls of colors seem to flood from his hand has they reach the far corners of whatever he his trying to cover, bending and melding into artwork that comes straight from the deep recesses of his mind. If he his trying to change something that has already been painted or drawn, he need merely to lay his hands on the work and the colors and shapes will swim around to meet his vision. Many a people have came to him with specific ideas in mind, mainly those who have the decas to pay him for his gift, to see the great gaudy Jester in work. It is easy when hunting for a specific art piece to come to an individual who can make any art piece there is, only show him a picture or describe to him the contents. And if the work isn't exactly how you envisioned it to be? Well, he can always change the work he's already done into that of something brand new and fun.
► Does not need to spend hours upon hours on a piece of work, merely a few minutes to allow the colors to seep and set into the right places.
► Can work on almost any flat surface, that is non-living. The larger the work the more time he will need to let the colors run their course, but it is by no means takes as long as a legitimate painter painting a wall.
► People with money like fancy things, and as "The Jester" he has quite a bit of decas stashed in his back pocket if he should ever need it.
► Will need to have "absorbed" enough materials to conjure what he need to conjure, as he can run out of stored power. If he is to run out of materials as he his creating a work, all of the colors he has already put into it will seem to fade away as they do not have enough to finish their task.
► Once a work is started it must be finished, or it will fade away. Yes, Jester can choose to just leave parts of the surface untouched, but most of the time a client doesn't want a half-finished piece while Jester goes off to work on something. And like all of his works, finished or not, his mark will leave the area if enough time passes.
► Using his powers does not drain him per se, it actually gives him a a dull feeling of giddiness similar to that of going to a dentist and gas being placed on one's face. But if he uses his power too much, becomes too dependent on the feeling of slight bliss that encases him, it can be more hurtful than gainful. Headaches will take over his mind, while his hands will become covered in cuts from where the paint seemed to pour from his body. He's become a bit too dependent before, and besides these injuries he became searingly more angry, the signs of withdraw clear on his features as he refused to use his power for a time.
►Technological Augmentations: Nothing besides that of the standard implant given shortly after birth that acts like both his bank account and his ID information.
"A story is told, of how a god loved a
goddess, and how she loved him. Together
they blossomed a son, who in turn was to
love beyond the earth itself. But not all happy
stories have happy endings, and the son was
stolen away from the two of them. As time
faded so did they, now only the son remains."
NAME:Sylasan AGE:Ageless GENDER: Male ROLE:God of the Moon and Stars
APPEARANCE: Sylasan is tall, lanky form of a man that stands just a bit taller than a normal human male. His pale skin and equally pale hair make him see out of this world, and to be honest... he is. Aquamarine eyes seem to pierce the exterior of however he is talking to, despite his features almost always being pulled into a wide smile that seems to emite a soft glow of pearly white light. Soft cheekbones lead down to a pointed chin, followed by a long neck and toned shoulders. Dark lashes flare up from his opal shaped eyes, and a sharp nose bridge gives way to a petite nose, his features seemingly scuplted from the gods themselves. to be a rather hopeful and optimistic individual.
Perhaps the most distinguishable feature from the young God is his long white mane of hair, something that takes people many hours to perfect in their drawings and scupltures of him. The hair is a perfectly white color, but not clear in any way. It normally hangs loosely about his shoulders and face, not greasy or dirty like it might be for someone else with that much hair. Sometimes, often in drawings, Sylasan can be found in the act of putting his long hair up into a ponytail or bun, leaving some pieces astray as he puts it up before a great deal of work or exhaustion. Most people recongnize him only for his hair, and it is doubtful that many people would recongize him as the God that he is without it.
BIOGRAPHY: A long time ago, when the world was just new, young gods laughed and danced playfully on top of their new home. Four sister goddesses ruled over the seasons, one for each of the four different times the world seemed to be in. The first sister was the Goddess of the Spring, as she laughed and touched every piece of the earth with love in her heart. The second sister was the Goddess of the Summer, as she was daring and full of adventure underneath the hot sun. The third sister was the Goddess of the Fall, as she ushered in new ways of thinking and being during the windy days. The last sister was the Goddess of the Winter, and she was intelligent and inventive as she sent flurries of her own creation onto the ground for others to play in.
Now, these four sisters were not the only ones patrolling the earth, as there was others being made and other Gods and Goddesses to usher them into their new state of being. There was the God of Animals, who each day for many days made a new animal to place onto the ground. There was the Goddess of Water, who let her rivers run as fast as they want and her rains pour as hard as they could. But one God, the God of Song and Dance, took a particular interest in the Goddess of Winter. She would send snow down for people to play in, and he would ask the people to sing a song in her honor. She would giggle, and make the mornings look as if they were a paradise covered in ice and snow, and he would host dances in her wake to try to hear that giggle once again. It wasn't long before the two fell madly in love with each other, the other Gods and Goddesses happy for the two of them.
All were happy, except one of course. Winter's sister, Fall, had watched the God of Song and Dance for as long as she could remember, hoping to win his affections. The God had never batted an eye towards her, always looking instead to the other sister. As The God and Goddess became pregnant, this child was to be the first child born as a God, Fall began to think of a plan to cut away her sister and the child from the God of Song and Dance's life. Time passed, and the baby was born before Fall could think of a way to get rid of it. The baby came out looking like his mother, but jovial like his father, the world was happy. The Gods got together and gave the boy a collective birth present; the moon for him to rule over once the time came. The child grew, worshiped by the people of earth and loved by his family, but Fall had finally came up with a plan to get back at her sister.
If she couldn't have the man, at least she could take the child. So, as the God the Moon was deemed old enough to be welcomed into the arms of the more mature Gods as a proper ruler, the Goddess of the Fall planted a spell onto his form to turn him into the rock she herself held so dearly. From there, she placed him on earth with the mortals, knowing the only way to free him was a kiss from someone that would love him as strongly as his parents loved each other, which was something he could not find on earth. The Goddess of the Fall left her nephew to rot on earth, a cold unseeing statue that could only hope for freedom from his stone prison to come. As the gods learned of their missing friend and family member, each one wept with sadness, none more so than the Goddess of Winter and the God of Song and Dance. Each tear the Gods shed became the stars, dotting the sky around the moon in hopes that they would light the path for their lost God to return home to his kingdom.
POWERS/ABILITIES/SYMBOLS: - Control of the moon and it's appearance in the sky, as Sylasan has been entrapped for a many of years the moon has been set to a normal clockwork schedule by the other gods in his wake.
- His parents both gave him each a gift, his mother the ability to withstand the cold and his father the ability to dance as well as any blessed dancer on earth.
- Slyasan indescribably hard to lie to, as the moon is pure and can detect those with ill intentions. Of course, this ability does not always work because he never suspected his aunt to have ill-tidings towards him or his parents.
- He has yet to practice this, because the stars did not appear until after he was encased in his prison, but he can blink out a star to "call upon" the god that cried to make it. Most of the gods are quickly fading away in this new world, but Slyasan can at least harness their respective power for a set amount of time.
- The three main symbols of the God of the Moon and Stars are the moon itself, the raven, and blue roses. The moon for the gift he was given at birth, the raven he would disguise himself as to flew down to earth to watch people, and the blue rose that his aunts Spring and Summer let roam after his disappearance.
hair: a deep maroon that seems to honey in color when exposed to sun
eyes: once a vibrant light blue, now a deep blood-red that matches her diet
body: curvy, taunt with hidden muscle
scars/markings: there is one crescent moon shaped scar on each side of her neck
ethnicity: french with an upbringing in tennesse
past: eloise was born to an immigrated french couple that had moved to america to move to the expanded west for hopes of a better life. the two had a nice home, a blossoming family, and a vast amount of land that they had claimed themselves. eloise was their third child, and first daughter, born in 1918 just before the world war. as her father was sent off to the war, eloise's mother was forced to take care of three children on her own. yes, it was tough, and yes a woman could not earn respectable wages, but the four of them made do for the next few years before the men were allowed to return home. with her father home, their family grew once more with new children, eloise taking the lead in raising them most days. as she grew older she was met with the prospect of marrying many different men, but she somehow was able to dodge all of their marriage asks without her parents forcing her into one. that was, until she met david matthers, one of the most wealthy men in the little town she had been brought up in. there was nothing she could do to make her parents not agree to the union, as they were thoroughly excited that their eldest daughter would be the bride to someone who would never ask her to raise a finger. so they were wed just as she turned eighteen, well over the age for marriage at that age. marrying david did not make her have to work to earn a living, but her life was pointless. she did nothing but sit prettily for hours, holding onto her husband's arm as nothing more than a trophy. but, she knew having a child would most likely change her attitude. she had loved teaching and playing with her siblings, and she doubted she could not love her own child. david and her began trying for a child, because even though she did not love him he could give her something to love. a year passed, and she was no closer to having a child. her husband began to doubt her capabilities, and she began to doubt her life. what could she possibly do in this life besides posses children? it was then, sitting alone just on the outskirts of town, did something attack her. a dangerous, beautiful beast, that latched itself onto her neck to drain the life out of her blood. there was nothing she could do, no matter how hard she hit, and it let go just before death clouded her eyes, long enough for her to see a handsome porcelain face overcome with grief. she lay there, waiting for death to come, but death never came. it seemed like an eternity passed before someone came to her, another beautiful face peering over her for a moment before scooping her into their arms. days passed in excruciating pain, and her memories slipped from her mind as she awoke as a new being.
present: eloise has been traveling with her "maker" for plenty of years now, the two of them finding peace with each other as they traveled over many lands. eloise knows little of the world, leaning on Louis to explain the world to her rather than experience it herself. she follows his lead when hunting, when encountering new vampires or foreign objects, and trusts him holly and completely. that is, until he disappeared one night. eloise had went off to explore a bit, Louis promising to stay put until she returned, but he never did. eloise waited at the spot they had last met, and then followed his trail until it ran too cold for her untracking self to follow. she has been searching for him for over a week now, growing thirsty as she is too afraid to wander into a town with Louis to help her. (basically Louis has "raised" her, but as kept her in the dark about most things. eloise has no concept of the world, and is actually very skittish and unsure how to survive on her own)
abilities: pain inducement; She has the ability to inflict pain onto others, but only in the physical sense. The person she wishes to induce pain upon also must be touching her, so it is not as powerful as someone who can just jam themselves into the mind of another. This ability has only been a select few times, as she has very little control over it and mainly uses it when scared while someone is grabbing onto her.
extras: she has only ever had the diet of a "normal" vampire, but she's at least willing to try to live without the killing of others for her survival
Shock white hair wildly frames a porcelain face, twisting laying just below his ears in some places and sticking up like dove feathers in others. A sharp jawline frames a delicate face, his ivory colored skin devoid of any facial hair. A small angular nose matches a pair of thin lips, followed by large eyes engulfed in a bundle of white eyelashes. Light red eyes flit around like a hummingbird, all of his coloration making him seem borderline albino. Long legs carry him to a height of six foot, thin and wiry just like the legs of a stork. Broad shoulders go down to meet a firm chest and stomach, long attuned to the aliments of heat and work. Every so often black runes snake up from his skin, almost as if he is a cracked porcelain doll. The marks mean little to anyone but him, but most people know that when they see them they are not seeing the real Camus but instead the "human" Camus. The real Camus looks similar, but still obviously much different.
The real Camus is much more fearsome, even if he himself finds himself to look more normal than any regular human. His teeth and ears become pointed, more akin to a bat than any other person. His red eyes become pupiless, and his height grows an extra half foot. Tall dull red horns sprout from just above his ears, sticking up straight into the air that only adds to is already massive height. His white skin turns a more sickly, ashen color and the veins that pump throughout his body seem to glow in places that have the most blood. The long legs of a human turn into a more angular, beast like shape that have padded feet and large claws. Spike like appendages grow from his forearms and neck, giving him a regal appearance despite being so beastly. Everything wraps up quiet nicely as a long tail flicks around his body, a small tuft of dark hair spinning around him as he thinks.
Despite being a typical monster people tell their kids about to make them behave, Camus is a relatively calm and collected kind of guy. While he does wear his heart on his sleeve, rarely does he get angry or even mildly upset with people. Only when people refuse to listen or do stupid things for no reason does he get upset, and even then it had to be really stupid. A bit clingy, Cam isn't really aware of what a person's "personal space" really entails. He loves to walk with his arms linked with people, or even just to hold their hand. Not that he sees any of this as romantic, he's just an overly touchy and friendly guy. He does typically know when to leave people alone, however, as he's not going to try to hold on to anyone who clearly is in the wrong mood. All he really wants to do is care for others, for them to know he is there for them no matter what. With that comes a loyalty he isn't afraid to give out, even if sometimes it isn't in his best interest. Cam can be extremely sensitive, even if he doesn't let others know about it. He's all about people coming to him with his problems, but rarely does he seek advice on what he himself should do. A mere "don't touch me" can ruin his whole mood, even though he knows rationally it shouldn't. He's pretty easy to read, though, so people usually pick up on when he's sad.
✓ calming presence - camus is an old soul that brings a sense of calm to those around him. since he never seems to get upset or angry at people, it is easy to feel the wave of calmness that seems to come with him. camus usually only needs to walk up or say a few words to defuse a tense situation, which can be extremely valuable with his title of advisor.
✓ speed - while camus doesn't typically take his tiefling form, when he does he because much faster. his lithe limbs and padded feet seem to cut through the air with ease, making it easy for him to make hasty get-aways or run ahead of the group to make sure everything it okay. he doesn't really like to do it, but he will if Kristian or the group thinks he should.
✓ caring - camus without a doubt cares for the lives of those around him, and would stop anything he's doing to lend a hand or listening ear. he finds that most people rather escape inside themselves than let what is inside out, but he wants it to be known that he'll stop to help anyone that says they're in need of help.
✗ coldness - camus has had little to no experience in his home-world with just how exactly cold it can get here. his thin body was made for heat and fire, not for snow or ice. when it gets too cold he can start to shiver uncontrollably, which only leads to him forcefully reverting to his tiefling form. his tiefling form can better handle harsh climates, but he still was not made for the cold.
✗ self preservation - the man has little thoughts about his own death and demise, but rather plans to stay alive so that he can better help the group. it isn't hard to convince him to scout or fight more than he would like, as long as someone tells him it will help others out in the long run. if he dies his only reluctance will be about leaving everyone on their own, not about no longer being with them.
✗ fighting - yes, he has claws and horns but camus is not a fighter. he was not trained to take on anything other than a few practice dummies, and even then he wasn't that great at not getting hit himself. he is built for fleeing, for being light on his feet and taking a few slashes in if he sees the chance, not for full-out brawls were his thin form will do little more than annoy his opponent.
✓ blue - a color that was incredibly rare in his world, and seems to still be pretty rare in this know desolate world. blue skies and lapping waters is something he'd love to see one day, to be surrounded in the peaceful blue that was once this world.
✓ plants - flowers, trees, and vines are all beautiful in his mind. each one made up of the same core being but each very different. the most lovely flower can be the most deadly, and the most mundane plant hold secret medicinal attributes. it's something he would love to sit and study most days, but a lass there is never the time
✓ honesty - nothing can progress if no one is honesty with each other, because then everything just turns into a game of cat and mouse. there is no point in lying when death could stalk around the corner at any time, as it's best to die a honest and good man than it is to die a lair and a thief.
✗ most animals - animals are unpredictable and therefore are something he doesn't want to be around. plus, they're usually just another mouth to feed when they're already at their limit. sure, animals have their uses, but mainly for food. no point dragging around a house-pet when you know you can't control it, and control is a key issue these days.
✗ stupidity - it's one thing to be ignorant on a certain subject, to be stupid about is another thing all together. people who think they are right know matter what and those who run into a situation without thinking about it clearly are some who irk him the most. it isn't that hard to stop and think about a situation, but some people act as if they'd rather die than think sometimes.
✗ eating - yes, eating is a necessity and it gives your body energy, but the food on this world is not what he's used to. his people usually ate Jal (think a misty thing they suck into their bodies) and here it's an actual process. meat is good, but hard to come by, so he usually just gives his share to other people.
✗ becoming useless - there is little camus has ever striven for, and earning his worth as certainly been one of them. he wants to be someone others can depend on, call to if they need help, lean on when they're down. he cannot be the one to become dead weight, to only be in existence because death chose to spare him for a little while longer.
✗ pain - torture, being eaten by an animal while still alive, bleeding out after dropping from a great fall... these are all ways camus cannot stand to go out, as he has little dealings with pain in the past. he's not sure how he would like to go out, but he knows a painful death is not on his list.
✗ living in this loop - he's not sure he really wants to go home, but he knows for certain he doesn't want to live in this world forever. he'd love to live in the this world before the flash, but he's not sure that will ever happen. not everyone gets what they want however, and this seems like a pretty big favor to ask.
The underworld, hell, whatever you want to call it was home for Camus before being brought to this dimension. It was a world filled with fire and magic, where demons lurked around corners and giant winged creatures flew through the air. The world wasn't bad, however, no actually Camus found it to be quite nice. He was born to two parents, trained like any young male did in the art of survival and fighting, and lived a typically normal life for his kind. He wasn't good at fighting per se, but at least he got fed. He lived a simple life where he followed the rules of his kind, obeying the laws doing just enough to make a name for himself. There was no real gain to be had by fighting in arenas for coin, no, the real gain came from being a smooth-talker. It's not hard to get good at telling people they look nice or that so-and-so said something bad about them this morning, in fact he even started getting paid for it after awhile. But a life where your only skill is telling people lies isn't that rewarding, so maybe it was a blessing in disguise that Cam doesn't live in his world anymore.
It's hard to remember what he was doing before it happened, all he remembers is a blinding white light that encased everything that he saw. Then came a feeling of falling, an almost endless sensation of tripping down a rabbit hole. He wasn't sure how much time passed, but suddenly he was looking up at an unlit sky. A broken land laid before his red eyes, and many questions came to his mind. The world didn't seem all that different from his own in some ways, but in others it was like he was having a dream. There was no warm, constant-burning fire that illuminated the land, nor a constant stream of different tieflings and their pets. No, this world seemed... empty. It was almost sad as he stood and began to walk the land, his nailed feet kicking over discarded plants and rocks.
Not long afterwards he found a few people, but they ran away in terror at his horned figure. The looked like shorter, less pointy tieflings, so he figured they couldn't be too bad. Again he found more, but again they ran away. Figuring they'd never seen anything like him, he decided to change his form to match their's the best he could. The next time he found someone they spoke with him, a man who called himself Kristian. The two of them decided to stick together, searching for answers and others who might be in need of help. Well, Cam looks for people in need, Kris is always a bit more skeptical than Camus is. But the two have had each other's backs for over two years now, and Cam doesn't plan on that changing any time soon. Even if Kris is ice and Cam is fire, the two blend together in ways Cam isn't sure he would have ever been able to find in his own world.
Camus has some pretty mundane powers, when you really stop and think about it. His tiefling form gives him inhuman speed and pointy bits, but anyone from his world had access to these things. Sure, sharp teeth and claws are helpful, but is it really a power if he was born with it. The only real power he feels like he has is his ability to change forms, but even that is fleeting. It doesn't take up any "juice" per se, but it does fade when the black runes that cover his skin start to fade. Each morning he spends about an hour reapplying his marks, just so he can appear a bit more normal in this world. Of course, he can diminish them at any time, it just always takes more time to reapply them so that he can look more like his fellow family members. He's also pretty much immune to all types of fire, but again he doesn't really see that as a real power but more as just something he's always been able to do.
Perhaps the most notable aspect of Neferet's ethereal form is her eyes, eyes that signal right away that she is not of this world. Lavender in hue, the large eyes seem to see into the most impossible to reach places when she takes her time to notice them. Pupiless, it's hard to tell just where she may be looking when your not looking directly at her yourself. Light specs of white seem to float around inside the purple orbs, stars in a galaxy that only make up her mind. Large and titled, curved with the grace of a cat, Neferet's eyes have been known to entrance those who are not used to her presence. Besides her inhuman eyes, Neferet seems to appear as a normal woman. Ebony skin is smooth to the touch, wrinkle-free and not accustomed to the art of war. Slender legs and a toned body lead up to shapely arms, followed by a regal posture that seems to never waver.
Freckles the color of gold dust across her cheeks and the bridge of her nose, highlighting her sharp cheekbones and small nose. Robust lips used to hold vibrant colors such as purples and pinks, but now lay naturally with the rest of her being. A small jaw and round chin stop little from the confidence and beauty that radiates from her being, despite it making some of the proportions of her face a bit off. Dark hair that used to be sported in a different hairstyle each time the sun rose now lay in a simple gathering of a few box braids. Often she leaves her braids down to drift across her mid-back, but at other times she curls them into one another on top of her head in a sort of tight crown. If one was to look closely at her body they would see a faint shimmering light coming from within, almost as if she was shadowed by gold instead of black. She is a proud woman who stands tall in the face of danger, even if she may not be as tall as some of the foes she may come to face.
✓ leadership - as the being she is, a keen sense of being a force that people want to follow as always come with her. her voice carries a power that perhaps others may never find, and her stance carries a confidence that only comes with many years of knowing exactly what she wants to do and how to do what she wants. she understands she is not the leader of this group, however, but she can always be a force to step in if the time ever sees fit
✓ healing - neferet was the healing goddess of her world, she knows how to heal people and to help them through their ailments. it doesn't matter if she has never seen what the person is sick with, she will have a lead on what the cure could be in a matter of minutes. she's helped deliver many a children in her life as well, and is a natural midwife for helping along the process
✓ knowing - being alive as long as she as, neferet can pick up on things that others may not notice. no, she isn't a trained tracker or scout, as her observations are concerned more about the people or readily available aspects of the world around her. her eyes can usually pick up on lies or feelings that people won't admit to, no matter how hard they may try to hide them
✗ foreign - neferet is aware of how her world works, not how this world she has been thrust into works. she doesn't know hwy certain aspects of nature or creatures works, so how is she to know what is safe and what is not? she is cautious, but she isn't going to stop and ask questions about every single little thing
✗ fearless - a sense of confidence and self-worth has to have downfalls, and for neferet it is her lack of danger-sense. unless someone tells her not to approach something, she probably will. and even when someone tells her to be wary, she probably will just say "oh". she's never been in a place where her life is in constant danger, so it is hard to get accustomed to always being able to get hurt
✓ learning - neferet loves learning about the worlds the people around her are from, for she would have never thought other worlds were possible before. she especially likes to hear about what their worlds looked like, the colors and the people that lived there. she makes mental notes about each world, trying to figure out if there are any correlations between the expansive worlds
✓ the sun - the sun in this world is smaller and comes out less often than on her homeland, but on the rare occasions that the giant star breaks through the barriers of clouds and decay, she basks in it's presence as long as she can. it invigorates her, the feeling of warmth she misses so much from her world, filling her with a sense of home and purpose.
✓ solitude -neferet spent many years wandering her world alone, content as she gazed at the world around her as time passed. often she can be found just outside the group as she stands alone, pupiless eyes staring off into a world only she can see. it can be for just a few minutes, or even a few hours, but usually if someone taps her gently on the shoulder she will snap out of her trance and follow them back to their camp
✗ overbearing people - as an intelligent woman, she doesn't need someone to be on top of her to make sure she is doing what she should be doing. following someone's leadership or orders comes easy if those in power do not need constant reassurance, so don't bother her about making sure she's on doing what she's assigned to do. asking if she needs help once or twice is fine, but don't ask if she's done yet or "if she knows what she's doing"
The light that surrounds Neferet's being acts as a thin layer of protection for her, the first wave of her powers should she be in the process of getting hurt. Almost like a shield, her protective barrier can help her in situations that others may not be comfortable with. Her barrier makes her freezing point lower, her burning point higher, her ability to withstand pain slightly better, and makes it harder for her skin to be pierced. Note, it makes it harder, not impossible. If someone is to stab her with a dagger, she will bleed, they just may have to use a bit more force than a they would against a normal human. As a goddess equivalent Neferet has immortality, an aspect that she was born/created with. But immortality does not mean invincible, and Neferet can die just as easily as any mortal man. Sure, it can be a bit harder, but it is no where near impossible. Her healing ability, the ability she as always been able to do, is limited in this world. There are so many beings in this world that are foreign to her, and it has been a difficult process in healing them. Humans have been easy, they are almost exactly the same as the beings from her world, but those that aren't very close to what she is used to she has had trouble healing. Discerning illnesses and delivering children are different from healing, but again it has been harder than some of the other beings she's encountered.
➵ Ella (Name she likes to be known by)
➵ Pat/Patty (Names she doesn't really like)
➵ December 20th, 1934
➛ Ginger. What else is there to say about someone with red hair? It's pretty curly, especially after it gets wet, but she takes time to care for it. She doesn't have it cut into a bob or hairsprayed up into a beehive, but it looks nice on most occasions. Often she'll throw a headscarf around it to tame it a bit and get it out of her face, as well as be a tad bit more stylish. Some people like how natural she likes to keep her hair, others find it to be a little too "dirty" or "untidy".
➛ Some of the crispest blue eyes you have ever seen can be found on Elanora. The blue has just a hint of green, almost like someone can see the ocean in the sunlight through her eyes. A lot of people compliment her on them, but she usually brushes the compliments aside. She doesn't think they're anything special, she's had them her whole life after all.
➛ A thin woman, Ella doesn't really have anything going for her in the "woman" department. She has no defined bust size, has little for a waist, and all the same can be said about her butt. She's also possibly a little underweight, as she hardly eats enough during the day. Not to say that she's unhealthy or skeletal looking, it's just perhaps she's a bit too skinny for a woman her age.
➛ Ella has a very welcoming face, round cheeks and a wide smile that invites people in. She has thin eyes and a long round nose, medium-full lips and a slight point to her chin. Her cheekbones aren't raised too high and her jawline isn't too sharp. She's soft, and her face conveys that in a lot of different ways. A small dusting of freckles can be found highlighting her cheeks, but she tries to downplay them as much as possible. Her skin is also almost completely smooth, and a creamy pale color.
➛ Like most women of her age, in the day and age she's in, she's conformed to the typical housewife wear. Her hair she does with what she wants, but her outfits she follows fashion trends. Full skirts, swing dresses, sheath dresses, kitten heel pumps, and mary-jane strap shoes; she has it all. For the most part, she wears solid colors with minimal accessories, as she doesn't really like how the flashy patterns look with her hair color.
➛ 122 lbs
Faceclaim is Eleanor Tomlinson
At first glance, people assume that Ella is a typical housewife, perhaps a little on the quiet side and a little less on the gossipy side, but still a pretty normal wife. It's the people who are close to Ella that get to see how goofy she is, how funny she can be, and how caring she is as an individual. But they also don't get to see what she closes behind smiles and pleasantries, the self-doubt she holds and the anxiety that plagues her on an everyday basis. No, they get to see a facade of a new marriage and a bouncy baby boy. It's those who get close that can see behind her walls, the real her that is full of fun but also full of sadness. But Ella doesn't have a lot of people she would consider herself close to, besides maybe her sister. But even then she can't confide everything to her, because she's a soon-to-be mother herself with a dedicated young husband. To sum up, Ella is a caring woman who smiles most of the time, even if she may be a bit troubled inside. She loves fiercely, and can even come across as childish with how playful and friendly she is.
✓ Friendly - It doesn't matter who approaches Ella, she will no doubt be nice to them. There isn't a mean bone in her body, and she can't understand people that go out of their way to be mean to others. What is the point of intentionally hurting someone else for the gain of oneself? It's much more beneficial to be kind to others and reap those rewards, than to either be hostile or just simply rude. She also doesn't really gossip, even though she does kind of like to know gossip to an extent. She's a bit of an innocent soul, so when gossip goes too far then she doesn't want to hear it anymore.
✓ Dedicated - Once she starts something there isn't normally anything that will stop her unless her husband tells her to, a point she doesn't really like to think about. If she decides to clean the house that day, then guess what she's doing. If she needs to get Christopher to eat his dinner, they won't stop until he's finished it. Sometimes her dedication could be focused on something a little bit more beneficial, like making a better life for herself, but her dedication only goes so far. She has no idea what she could be cable of if she tried because she just doesn't see the point in trying to do something that won't work out.
✓ Motherly - Some would call her a bad wife, but there is no one that can call her a bad mother. She loves kids, but none more than her own son. Christopher is the love of her life, the only reason she has a want to keep herself alive. If he hadn't been born, she doubts she would have lasted this long in her life. If you need someone to babysit, then call her up because she's happy to help out in that regard.
✗ Pushover - There is almost no will-power in her as a woman to stand up for herself, especially towards her husband. If someone wants the seat she's sitting in, then she'll give it to them. If someone wants to come in and rearrange her furniture, then she'll stand back and watch. She's a follower, someone who doesn't have her own set of ideals but ideals that have been pressured onto her. Her fashion is a product of other people, her husband a product of others, pretty much her whole life her choices have been made by others because she let others influence her too much.
✗ Emotional - Typically, women are seen as creatures that can't control their emotions and cry a lot. Well, that's kind of true for Patrica. It's not about dropping a pan in the floor or Christopher not listening that really makes her cry, it's when her husband comes home and points out her mistakes. Sometimes having a husband that is never satisfied with what she does, a young son, and taking care of a house wears on her and she just has to go stand in the bathroom and cry to herself. For the most part, she can hide it well because when she doesn't it's even worse for her.
✗ Unsure - To go along with her being a pushover Ella is almost always questioning herself, never certain of what she wants to do and when she wants to do it. When she starts something productive, like cleaning the house, then she does it. But she plans out forty different meals for dinner, picks out ten different dresses each morning, and debates what she's going to get at the store for thirty minutes before she gets on her way. Everything she does is thought about for an extreme amount of time, there is no surprises or randomness in her life, something she probably desperately needs.
✓ Sweets - Chocolate, candy, cake, pie... All of it, they are just all so pleasing to her. She can't make any of it to save her life, but God does she love to indulge herself just a bit. When neighborhood ladies bring her stuff she feels a bit bad that she doesn't have anything good to give them in return, but mostly she's just excited about the prospect of trying something new. For some reason, she really likes things she can eat in one bite, like chocolate covered strawberries or mini cake bites.
✓ Swimming - Something that doesn't happen often, she's usually confined to a bathtub, but Ella loves the water. She loves to swim, despite it being a rarity for her. The water is so calming, an encasing blanket that lets her drift off into thoughts of different people and different lives. The water brings fond memories and washes her anew, a thing that she will cherish always.
✓ Reading - When she isn't cleaning, cooking, or taking care of her son Ella likes to read. She's a pretty intelligent woman, and reading really expands her mind. She likes mystery novels the most, always trying to figure out who did what before the book gives it away. But she'll read just about anything, even those dumb romance novels where women need a big strapping man to come in to sweep them off their feet. They usually just make her shake her head or blush, depending on how far she gets into the novel before she quits.
✗ A Dirty House - While she doesn't really like the idea of cleaning and cooking in her own home as her job, she does like it after she goes on a cleaning spree and the house looks better. To spend a whole morning making sure everything is clean, to then take a deep breath and sit down is one of the best feelings. The process doesn't really bother her all that much either, as she can focus on something and it clear her mind. She doesn't really understand those women who claim they need a maid or live-in help to take care of the house for them, as it's really not as bad as everyone makes it out to be.
✗ Expectations - A lot of people in the world (her husband, the women she calls friends, society...) they all expect something from her. They want her to be in the kitchen with a baby on her hip and a four-course meal on the stove. They expect her to dress and act a certain way, to have her hair styled and the house spotless. It's hard, a lot harder than anyone ever gives her credit for. She hates it, honestly, but what is there to do? There isn't really a way out of people expecting things of her, and it's simply something she has to live with.
✗ Cooking - Despite really liking cakes and other kinds of pastry sweets, Ella hates to cook. She has no mindset for it, and something almost always goes wrong with what she is making no matter what. Why is it that the cake doesn't rise right? Why is it that her pancakes are runny? And why does she have no idea on how to make meatloaf? That's a pretty common dish, a proper wife should probably know how to make that. Eating the stuff she makes isn't that much of a problem, she isn't wasteful, but it's getting there that is the hard part.
✗ Her Husband - She loves him... Well, she loved him. No, she loves him. Michael and she have been together for about half a decade now, how could she not love the man who fathered her son? It's just that he's so picky with her. He always wants everything to be so perfect, and most the time she doesn't meet up to those standards he so desperately wants to live his life by. He hates that she can't cook, and he hates that she wears her hair the way she does. Sometimes he yells, well, not really yells but just loudly disappointingly tells her what she does wrong. He always has tips on how she can change herself for the better, but it's become increasingly hard for her to meet up to the standards he provides for her.
✗ Change - Routine is what makes Ella tick, and without it she would most definitely go insane. If something messes up her schedule, then she's messed up for the rest of the day as well. Once she is in a place she wants to stay there, and she rarely likes to come out of her house unless she knows what was going to happen in advance. She isn't one to like sudden change or even randomness, even though she understands that both of those things are good for her. In low doses, randomness can be good. She could probably handle her sister randomly coming over to talk but that's about it.
✗ Being Stuck - Despite not taking well to change, Patrica is completely terrified of the life she is currently been thrust into. She's been married for almost five years now, and every day that passes makes it harder for her to break away. She thought the life she wanted was that of a lovely wife and doting mother, but all she's found she's only cable of doing is the latter. She wouldn't give up her son for the world, but there are other parts of her life she really wished would have turned out a bit differently.
The beginning of Patrica starts all the way in Ireland, as that's where both sets of her grandparents are from. Her parents, however, are first generation Americans, hard-working people who made a life for themselves in a country that wasn't their parents' home country. Joseph and Margaret, her parents, met in a small community when they were teenagers and immediately hit it off. They started a small soybean farm that eventually flourished into a thriving business. They loved each other, and through love came two beautiful children. Patrica came first, a bundle of red hair and child-like wonder. Next came Elizabeth, a loud child with a need to always be outside. The girls were wonderful children, nice to each other and always helping on the farm. A wonderful family that spent many years in harmony, each person having their own role and knowing where they belonged in the family. It wasn't until the girls started to come of age did change start to occur, a change Patrica had been grateful for when it happened but now is one of the biggest regrets of her life.
Michael and she had gone to school together, but he had been handsome and in the upper class while she was a little farm girl. He was older than her by a bit, but that didn't matter. She had had a crush on him in school, but that didn't mean they had spoken any more than a few words to each other the whole time they were teenagers. Once school was over she had gone back to work on the farm, and he had gone off to some fancy business school with his parent's money. Her parents were farmers, the working class. Even though her family owned their own house and land, they were still poor and held little to their name other than what they had always had. But one day about four years since the last time she had seen Michael, they ran into each other in town. She had been running errands for the family and he had been there for... Probably business stuff. He'd greeted her kindly, she'd blushed, he gave her a ride home in his car, and soon after that was a proposal. Her father had been hesitant to agree to the union, but she had begged and pleaded to allow their marriage. She would be taken care of, she wouldn't have to work and he'd buy her a house. He'd be able to afford them a television set and her nice dresses, he would be able to give her anything she would ever dream for...
So, they got married. The first year was probably the happiest she had ever been, as she really didn't need to do anything but clean the house Michael's father had bought him in town. She cooked well-enough, she put her all into it, and Michael smiled and ate it without much complaint. It was about year two that things started to change, that Michael started to get a little bit more aggressive with what he wanted Ella to do. He didn't hurt her or anything, he just was a bit more forceful with reminding her to keep the house clean or have his food on the table by the time he walked in through the door from work. She took it to heart, trying her hardest to please him. They had been so happy, surely she was the reason something was wrong. Over the next year, nothing went back to how it was that first year, so what else was there for her to do? Maybe something was missing in his life, she'd been feeling the same way recently, too. Then the idea to have a child was brought forth, and nine months later their son was born. The whole time she was pregnant and the first few months after Christopher was born Michael was the way he had been in the beginning, charming and grateful for what she did, but it went back to how it was before just as quickly as he had changed to his previous self.
Another year of her husband's anger, and he broke the news to her that they had to leave. He was done being in this podunk town and was getting a job transfer to a bigger city. They'd live in a suburb with plenty of people, and there she could meet some wives that actually knew what they were doing. One of his college friends actually lived in that neighborhood, and he had a great wife and children who didn't misbehave as much as their son. This was the town she had grown up in, the town her family still lived in, but he wanted to just move away because he didn't like being here? How could she tell him no, though? He had the job, he paid her bills, he provided for their son... So, they packed up their stuff and moved away. The last time she saw her family was at her sister's wedding, crying the whole time. Everyone thought she was sad because of her baby sister getting married, but she was more sad about not being able to see her as often. Or ever again, if it was Michael's way. Michael almost didn't go to his sister-in-law's wedding because he was better than a bunch of farmers getting together to dance about more farmers getting married. Patrica liked Elizabeth's husband, James, he was a kind man that would treat Elizabeth right... a man she would have been happy to marry.
Around Christopher's second birthday the family of three packed up and drove away, leaving behind the only home Ella had ever known. They got a bigger house and Michael got a better paying job, while she nursed a broken heart and a two-year-old. Christopher was his same old self, and Michael was actually bit more pleasant. But with a bigger house and better job comes a bigger need to have the perfect life, and Michael is becoming more annoyed with how Patrica runs things. She can't make the food his friend's wives can, she doesn't hang out with anyone to make him look better, and she sure as well doesn't try to make herself look better for him. She's just so tired, and she doesn't know what to do to make it better for herself. Maybe just give in to her life, instead of wishing for one she will never have? Michael's been bringing up the idea of giving Christopher a sibling, but she doesn't know if her heart can take another child having him as a father...
➛ Michael David Rooney (husband; married for almost five years. thirty-two years old) [image]
➛ Christopher William Rooney (son; two years old) [image]
➛ Joseph Edward Byrne (father. fifty-three years old) [image]
➛ Margaret Judith Byrne (mother. fifty-five years old) [image]
➛ Elizabeth Donna Miller (younger sister; pregnant. twenty-five) [image]
➛ James Henry Miller (brother-in-law. twenty-eight) [image]
➛ Ginger. That's about all Mason gets when someone asks about his hair. Yeah, he has red hair, but it's also slightly curly and he styles it a particular way. The bits in the front are just a smidge longer than those on the sides and back, making it easy for it to flip out of his hoodie or from underneath his beanies.
➛ For the most part, Mason is a pretty thin guy, but he also has a bit of muscle underneath the baggy clothes he normally wears. A smattering of different tattoos can be found marking his arms and chest, most of which he doesn't even remember why he got them. Every once and awhile a scar can be found on his pale skin, either from different sport related injuries or scuffles he and the boys get into. There is also a dusting of freckles down his shoulders and arms, but a lot of them have been covered by his tattoos.
➛ Mason has a pretty angular face, high cheekbones and a strong jaw-line that ends in a point. When he was little people would often comment about he wasn't eating well enough because of how sunken his cheeks were, but now that he's an adult all the girls talk about his bone structure. The freckles on his face are a bit more prominent than those on his body, but he usually hides them under the hood of a hoodie anyway.
➛ Black hoodies, band t-shirts, and beat-up tennis shoes are what someone can typically find Mason wearing. He's a chill guy, there isn't much to what he wears other than comfortable and how baggy he can make it without it falling off his thin frame. Occasionally, he mixes up his wardrobe by throwing a beanie over his hair when he's feeling spicy.
➛ 132 lbs
Faceclaim is Jake Hold
Some could say Mason is a "typical" stoner guy, but others could argue the exact opposite. Mason doesn't hide in the back corner of classrooms and draw on his desk, but rather is pretty vocal in class. He and his friends have a reputation, not always a good one, but they're funny guys and the teachers seem to like them enough to let them do what they want. Most of the time. He's not typically hateful to anyone, even when they come at him claws flying, and he makes sure he stands up for what he believes in. A loyal individual who knows where his ties have been stretched to, and knows what he wants to do when he wakes up each morning. Does he know what he wants in ten years? No. But does he even know what he wants to do a week from now? Not really. He's a go with the flow kind of guy, even if he knows the flow can only take him so far. At this point in his life he isn't worried about tomorrow, but rather worried about making memories and having fun. People who want to have fun come to him, he's the life of every party and can put a smile on anyone's face. Half the time he's not even half bad with the ladies, but that's just because they think he's funny. Hey, if they think he's funny then he must be doing something right, right?
✓ easy-going - there isn't much in the world that can make this red-head get heated, because for the most part he just lets the world go on while he goes at his own pace. he's been in scraps before, but mainly as something fun to do with his friends or to get into a fight his friends had already picked. if you wanna have someone chill to sit down with and tell you how it is, then come to him because that's what he's good at.
✓ fun - life is much more fun when you focus on pleasure rather than pleasing others or doing what they think you should do, especially if what's fun isn't always good for you. mason has a tendency to wrap people up in his shenanigans, edging people on until the only thing they want is to do what he wants to do or at least make him proud in some sort of way.
✓ charming - doesn't matter who it is, even people who hate mason know that he's a funny and a personable kind of person. he's not rude, he takes his time to listen to what people are saying to him, and then he makes fun of them a bit. you know those guys girls can't help but have a crush on them just because they make them laugh stupidly? that's him when he's in a good mood, that is.
✗ fearless - to mason, there is nothing in this world that can hold him down. did someone dare him to jump off a bridge? their fault he died then. he's not afraid to say what he wants, even if he knows he shouldn't. in his mind there is no punishment or repercussion in the world that can make him stop what he wants to do when he wants to do it.
✗ follower - while all ideas point to mason being someone who comes up with ideas, he really isn't. a lot of the time mason simply follows his friends, liking what kinds of music they like at the current time and doing what they want to do when they feel like it. perhaps that's just something that has to do with being in high-school, but mason doesn't really mind either way.
✗ moody - for the most part mason is a chill guy who doesn't get angry, but that doesn't mean doesn't go through bouts of anxiety or depression. he often feels like there isn't a place for him in the world and questions if people like him as much as they "pretend" to do. in his moody phases he usually day-dreams a lot more and gives shorter answers, but these feelings usually pass in a few days.
✓ marijuana - weed, reefer, ganja, the devil's lettuce; whatever you want to call it mason is an advocate for it. a teenage kid who hangs out with the "wrong" crowd? yeah, he smokes weed. hell, he even sells it sometimes. he's not selling crack to pregnant women, he's selling weed to other teenagers. money and weed? what else is there to want in life.
✓ running - obviously not on the track team because of the whole drug testing stuff, but he could be if he wanted to be. not every day, but more often than not mason will go for a mile or two run either late at night or early in the morning. a runner's high is almost as good as... well, getting high. it helps him clear his mind and have some time to himself, especially if things have been a little rough for him.
✓ solitude - mason spends a lot of time with his group of friends, and he loves them, but god does he just want to sit in his room at home and watch TV. there are so many good shows on Netflix he hasn't gotten the chance to watch yet just because they hang out so much, but it's the choice he's made.
✗ overbearing people - as an intelligent person, he doesn't need someone to be on top of him to make sure he is doing what he should be doing. he knows what people think about him, and he doesn't need them putting their nose in his shit because they think they're helpful. news flash, telling him to do something isn't as helpful as people seem to think it is.
✗ preps? - mason doesn't hate one set group of people, just a set group of people that act like they're hot shit because they can throw a football or shake a pom-pom in time with their ass. those people aren't always the worst, but most of the time they are. honestly, it's just people who think they are better than others because they have money or popularity, a power they seem to hold holier than any god.
✗ sweets - kind of odd, but mason cannot stand sweet food. cake, candy, pie, any of it just makes his mouth and stomach hurt. people who say they "have a sweet tooth" he just cannot relate to. he rather eat a sandwich and some chips over an icing smothered piece of sugar bread.
✗ not having a plan - mason hates plans, he almost never makes one or follows through an already made plan, but he understands life is about making plans. he's eighteen, and he has no idea what he's going to do in six months. he could get an apartment, a job in a fast-food place, but is that all that there is to life? Have a kid at twenty and regret it for the next twenty? he doesn't know where to start with making his plan, but he knows he needs one.
✗ being a disappointment - not to his parents, they already see him as a disappointment, but more to himself. he doesn't want to be stuck living out his high school days for the rest of his life like some of the guys he hangs out with, he wants something better for himself. he doesn't really want to go to college... but what else is there?
✗ dying - mason isn't scared of much other than death and failure, so that's about it on his list. and he's not scared in dying in a way he controls, like cliff diving or skydiving, but more like dying in an unexpected or sudden way. if he knows he's about to do something that can take his life, that's on him, if someone around him or something else takes his life... he just wants to go on his own terms.
What is there to really say about Mason's life other than... normal? Typical parents with two kids about two years apart, living life in a suburb as everyone goes to work and school. They've lived in the same town since he was born, and at least his parents will continue to live there way after he has kids of his own. Perhaps the only weird thing about them was that they all had red hair, and for some reason had never gotten a dog even though they had a fenced in backyard. His dad, Mark, worked at a car factory and his mom, Jamie, worked as a bookkeeper for a small business. The Nichols keep to themselves and they're happy that way. That is if the kids weren't such a handful. Mason is considered the troubled child because his mom found his weed stash one time and cried, and Vanessa is a drama queen because she cries over every single thing that happens in her life. Vanessa is a cheerleader, Mason is a stoner. Vanessa bullies kids at school but still pretends to be a good kid in front of adults, while Mason skateboards and gets yelled at for doing it.
How did he get to be so different from his sister? You tell him. Who would want a little brat for a sister, because of he sure as hell doesn't. He's run with pretty much the same friend group since middle school, yet she has a new group of friends every time she moves up a grade. He's hopeless because he doesn't do sports, and she's a star child because she's a cheerleader. Mason just tries to steer clear from her for the most part, especially since she started high school in the past few years. You'd think them being so close in age they would be the best of friends, but stuff happens. It's not like he doesn't love his sister, it's just she's such a pain. He'll graduate school soon and move out anyway, then he won't have to suffer listening to her cry to her parents about how terrible cheerleading practice is and how mean some of the girls can be to her. She's the real queen bee and she knows it, she just likes any sort of attention she can get.
➛ Mark Jonathan Nichols (father. forty-seven years old)
➛ Jamie Martha Nichols (mother. forty-one years old)
➛ Vanessa Anne Nichols (younger sister; sixteen) [image]