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| Posted by | War of the Rebellion | sign-ups | [closed] |
 P a l l i s (#42550) Deathlord of the Jungle View Forum Posts  Posted on 2015-08-15 03:41:58 |
Dear Subject,
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|P L O T| Welcome to Rukia, an arid world that is the sister planet to Earth. The climate of Rukia has changed dramatically over the past few thousand years, to the point that 90% of this planet is desert. The water here is boiling hot and has been known to cook humans alive within minutes. However, animals have evolved to drink and swim in this water with no difficulties (do not worry, because our top scientists have created the H2II, which is a small machine that is placed in the water to cool it down). As for Rukians, we look almost identical to the humans of our sister Earth planet, however, many outer-city low bloods have evolved to have tougher, more heat resistant skin.
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|T E R M S|
High blood; The term used to describe any person born within a dome city to high blood lineage; the lineage must be entirely pure for them to be considered a high blood. --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|R U L E S|
+ All Lioden rules apply.
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|M E M B E R S|
[Prince Pallis (#42550); moderator/owner ]
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|F O R M|
|Name| --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|C H A R A C T E R S|
|High bloods| |Low bloods| --------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
|L I N K S|
 0 players like this post! Like? Edited on 27/08/15 by Prince Pallis (#42550) |
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P a l l i s (#42550)
Deathlord of the Jungle View Forum Posts Posted on 2015-08-15 04:01:25 |
|Name| Wolfgang |Age| 22 |Gender| male - Sexuality: pansexual |Lineage| low-blood - Occupation: Rebel |Personality| Wolfgang is a rebellious young man with a tough exterior. He is intensely determined to work for not only what wants, but for what he believes is right for others. He is a madly dedicated man, frustratingly stubborn, and doesn't like to take shit from other people. Wolfgang innately has an issue with authority, and would never do well under the cold hand of the law. His reason for rebelling seems to run deep in blood, which burns hot with hatred towards those dwelling in the dome cities. Wolfgang has experienced firsthand the hardships of surviving in the relentless Rukian wilderness, where he was raised. He is adapted to a life of survival of the fittest, but nonetheless has observed the suffering of his people, and the luxury of the rich. His mind is set on the wrongness of the system he was taught was the 'way of life', and places all of the blame on the oppressing rich. Wolfgang doesn't like taking orders, and will often try to uphold leadership himself. In social situations, Wolfgang tends to step over many lines, as he heavily dislikes small talk. He's sarcastic, and is an asshole to people he dislikes. He is not outwardly arrogant, however, and is a humble man by nature. That being said, he is a little obnoxious and highly extroverted, which stems from his tendency to be over-confident. Wolfgang has a strong sense or morality, and sees himself as someone who must work for the weaker man (hence his hatred for highbloods). He isn't afraid hurt others for a good cause, and will go to whatever lengths possible to take power over his oppressors. Because of his reckless nature, and determination, Wolfgang also fails to perceive consequences, and has far too much confidence in himself and his abilities. He is not a loner, and typically prefers to have connections with other people. Although loyal as a dog, he does not trust easily. Wolfgang's most dangerous quality is his vengeful nature. Never cross this man. On the flipside, Wolfgang's biggest fear is mistakenly doing wrong to those important to him. As a heavily protective person, Wolfgang will also fight to the ends of the earth for his loved ones. He is, however, highly aggressive, and easily aggravated. Although he may have a friendly demeanor, Wolfgang has issues with controlling his anger. While not quite scholarly or sharp-minded, Wolfgang is also very skilled at survival. Often described to be trigger-happy, he is simply a good fighter, and will spend a lot of time bartering for a good gun. He is skilled with weapons and can easily fend for himself in a fight (he isn't afraid to pick fights, either). Often, Wolfgang will be more comfortable with his fist than with his words. However, his reckless and vengeful nature can border dangerous, for himself and others. Strengths: + determined + outgoing + skilled fighter + loyal Weaknesses: - hateful - reckless - stubborn - unforgiving Alignment: Chaotic-good |History| Much like any other low-blood, Wolfgang had it hard from the start. He was born into a family that had long been living in the squalor of poverty. His family belonged to a nomadic tribe of low-bloods, and both of his parents spent their days in the mines. He had been taught about the hierarchy of his society from a young age; that he was to respect the rich, fear the Protectors, and by all means, never defy a high blood. Yet, Wolfgang could never wrap his head around the fairness of it all. Truth is, there was no fairness, but his kind had to either comply, or face death. While his family urged him to join them in the mines once he reached an appropriate age, Wolfgang instead chose the risky occupation of joining his tribe's hunting party. He loved the thrill of discovering new ways to test his limits, and the fact that he got to explore new territories of the Rukian deserts every day. Wolfgang grew skilled at hunting and surviving through this practice, and he learned how to fight through the many skirmishes he had on the borders of neighboring family tribes. Soon, fighting became all that he knew. Wolfgang's hatred for those living in the distant, shiny dome cities only grew with time, and he seemed to disregard the fact that defiance was a death sentence. This spark only ignited when his sister, who worked as a servant in the capital, started to come home with bruises on her skin. As the rebellion grew more prominent, Wolfgang watched people of his own tribe get dragged away by Protectors, whose visits became increasingly frequent. When it became obvious to his family that Wolfgang was considering joining the rebellion, they disowned him for their own safety, and he was soon kicked out of his tribe as well [that's why he also has no last name, as being disowned by one's tribe also strips away their family title]. Wolfgang, while brooding over the 'loss' of his family and struggling to accept this consequence, has been travelling to the capital of Solaire in hoping of finding more connections to the rebellion. On the way, he has been trying to rally support for his own rebel group. While many are weary, he hopes to gain enough support to become a rebel leader himself. - Kin: Lance | father | alive Maeg | mother | alive Segen | sister | alive |Appearance| Wolfgang is a well-built young man of average height (5'11). He has a stocky, but muscular build, and slightly tanned skin. His features are strong and hard, but his hazel eyes are softer in comparison, set beneath dark furrowed brows. His hair is cropped short and tousled, starting out blonde and fading to a medium brown towards the nape of his neck. Wolfgang's most distinguished features are his tattoos; one across the bridge of his nose, that spreads along either cheekbone, as well as a symbol on his shoulder, and some more down his arms and on his torso. These tattoos, especially his facial one, are traditional tattoos found on the hunters of his nomadic tribe, and often identify him to others as belonging to such tribe. Wolfgang typically dresses in maneuverable, but protective clothes. He wears a sleeveless shirt/vest, with fur hides draped over his shoulders, and hanging from his belt. He uses small animal bones as clasps for his shirt and belts, and wears a mask over his mouth and nose as protection against the sand. Wolfgang is armed with a multitude of weapons, including a few daggers his mother crafted for him, and a modified gun that was originally stolen from a Protector. - Picture: Wolfgang |Theme song| David - Noah Gunderson _____________________________________________________________________________________________________ |Name| Lucien Matteus |Age| 19 |Gender| male -Sexuality pansexual, although not at terms with it, nor open about it. |Lineage| High-blood -Occupation Student |Personality| Lucien has always been a very troubled young man, with a tendency to live inside of his own head. A kid genius of sorts, he is highly intelligent in many aspects. He was diagnosed to have an eidetic memory at a young age [although, ironically, he also has dyslexia], and he is intensely observant of his surroundings, often to the point of being able to pick apart people like they were puzzles to solve. His oddly aware mind makes him a very quick-witted and cunning man. This heightened intelligence also aids Lucien the most when it comes to his love for technology of any sort. He has dedicated most of his life to working with computers and machines; building, tinkering, and coding. Unfortunately, this passion has been put into more devious activities, such as hacking. Lucien is a reclusive man by nature, preferring his own company to anything else. He may be able to understand others to a degree, but that does not mean he can effectively communicate with them. Lucien, in a very self-centered manner, feels as if he walks on a different wavelength than other people. In this way, he can come off as socially inept, mostly in the sense that he has no clue on how to form emotional connections with other people (as he views them as assets rather than needed connections), and he is often unaware of social boundaries and cues. This awkwardness does not mean that he is shy, however. Lucien is rudely straightforward and blunt, unafraid to voice his own opinion, and determined to make it heard. Outwardly, he is a very cocky, narcissistic, and sly young man. On a darker note, Lucien also appears to lack apathy of any kind, and often won’t think twice about insulting or hurting another person. His intelligence may be his only good attribute, however. Lucien's social awkwardness and apathetic nature also makes him a huge asshole. He is a cold, selfish, and arrogant, with quite the god-complex. Being a very wired person, Lucien is extremely obsessive and controlling. He will go to whatever lengths in order to get what he wants, and isn’t afraid to manipulate others. His mathematical mind views life as a big game of chess, and he has an obsession with always being one step ahead. Strengths: + highly intelligent + clever + quick-witted + expert with computers & technology Weaknesses: - arrogant - mentally unstable - manipulative - socially awkward - physically weak Alignment somewhere in between neutral-neutral and neutral-evil. |History| Descending from a pure high-blood lineage, Lucien belongs to a very important family with a lot of old money. His father is a businessman, being the CEO of an important weapon-making company in Solaire, and his mother [who died when he was 4] was a doctor. Being an only child with a distant father, Lucien lived a very self-isolated life, and found it difficult to make friends as a child. He grew up in life of luxury where he saw his maids more than his parents, and, as a result, was quite a spoiled brat. Without much to do in his sheltered life, Lucien spent most of his time learning. His father hired some of the best tutors for him, and Lucien buried himself in his studies. He also developed his passion for numbers and machines at a young age, finding that he could understand computers much better than people. He would spend days locked up in his room behind a screen, thrilling himself with any new government technology he could get his hands on. During his teenage years, Lucien secretly took up hacking, and became quite skilled at that as well. He has a tendency of searching for things to satisfy his devious nature, and because of his isolated home life, has a reckless itch or adventure. At the age of 19, Lucien is currently attending a private college in Solaire to complete his studies. His father wants him to eventually work at his company, but Lucien, being uncaring and spoiled as he is, hardly has much plans for his own future. One of Lucien’s most deeply rooted problems is his mental illness. Although never diagnosed, he has paranoia and a mild case of schizophrenia. His father knows that he is secretly unstable, but would never get it put on his records officially in fear of bad publicity for their family name; therefore, Lucien has never been medicated. As a result, Lucien turned to drugs when he was 18. He started off with something mild off the market that would help his insomnia and paranoia, but recently, as his problems have grown worse, he turned to something more expensive and heavy, and has had an addiction for 3 months. He is in denial, of course, and keeps it a heavily guarded secret. Kin Atticus Matteus | father | alive Lilith Matteus | Mother | deceased |Appearance| Standing at only 5'8, Lucien is a small man in stature, and looks exceptionally young for his age. He is baby-faced, with pale, almost colorless eyes, circled by dark lashes and set under equally as dark eyebrows. His hair is a dark brunet color, often striking golden in the sunlight. It is cropped in the back, and falls across his forehead in neatly parted bangs. Lucien's most distinguished feature is the dark circles that seem to be perpetually under his eyes, giving him a very sleepless look. His voice, however, is lower than one would expect. Being very skinny, with lean muscle at the most, Lucien doesn’t exactly have any physical advantage. He considers his strongest weapon to be his mind and his technological ability. Although not really practiced with weapons, Lucien did learn how to shoot a gun when he was a teenager. Like all other wealthy high-bloods, Lucien dresses in expensive clothing, and can be a bit snobbish about he wears. He typically dresses in dark, fitting clothes and high collared jackets. Picture: Ref I Ref II Ref III [Faceclaim is Dane Dehaan] |Theme song| Lurk- The neighborhood I am machine- Three days grace 0 players like this post! Like?Edited on 18/08/15 by Prince Pallis (#42550) |
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Hawkmask (#41743)
Famous View Forum Posts Posted on 2015-08-16 13:41:36 |
|Name| Lyssana (Lee-saun-a) Carin. Or Lys, for short. |Age| 20 |Gender|Female -Sexuality- Straight |Lineage| High-blood (Is actually of Mixed-blood, but does not know) -Occupation- Protector that is secretly working with the rebellion. |Personality| Lys is fairly secretive, being good at keeping secrets, and having many herself. That is partly because she has a hard time trusting people, and her life pretty much depends on her secrecy. When she does get around to trusting a person, she will noy betray them, willing to die for her friends and the causes she believes in. She believes that betrayal is ultimately the worst act that can be committed, and does not think her working with the rebels is a betrayal. Instead, she chooses to think that she is helping the Low-bloods avenge themselves against the unfair government who promised to take care of them, but didn't. Lyssana didn't always think that kind of thing, but once she started working as a Protector, she saw more of outside the dome and how the Low-bloods lived. Unlike most of her kind, she doesn't see the Low-bloods as trash, and has a strong conscious and moral standing. It wasn't right, and she knew it, and being the person she was, couldn't let it go. She doesn't give in to hardship, although most of that is just stubbornness. Being trained as a Protector made her strong, and she frowns on those who lead soft lives, and show weakness. Lys isn't afraid to make sacrifices, and not one to let the sacrifices go unavenged. Anyone who wrongs her should look out, because she doesn't treat them lightly. -Strengths -Hand to hand combat -Observant -Careful -Clever -Weaknesses -Long-range fighting -Unforgiving -Slow to trust -Alignment- Lawful Good |History| Lys was born in Solaire, under the dome, and stayed in there for most of her life. Her mother was a High-blood, but her father was a Low-blood servant. Her mother's husband (le gasp) found out when Lys was about 2, and could not bring himself to expose his daughter (although he would've exposed his wife if it wouldn't have resulted in Lyssana's exile). It was decided to hide the fact of her origin from even her, and kept a secret that only her 'parents' knew. She was found to be very intelligent, and was put into a priveleged school. She thrived there, but hadn't set her mind on any sort of career until she saw the Honor Protectors training one day. Although her parents wished her to follow in their footsteps, and be a doctor, they eventually gave in when they found out that Lyssana ha been secretly attending the classes and training to be a Protector for about a year. As smart as she was, Lys caught on fast to each drill, form, combat style (excluding long range combat), and rule that the protectors had. She graduated at the top of her class at age 17, and was assigned to protecting the fome as her first job. She was thrilled, until she actually got to it. Having never left the dome, it was a complete shock to her that the Low-bloods lived in such a miserable state. Sure, she had known that they weren't allowed in, and knew that many of her classmates had considered them so far mbeneath themselves, but she had never really got that. They were people too, right? Her shock had quickly turned to outrage that she kept quiet. All this time, she had worked to hard for the people she believed to be just and fair, only to find out that the 'Low-bloods' only had the misfortune of being poor? Nothing else. She was 19 when she found out who a rebel leader was, and approached him. She offered inside intel, and whatever other expertise she had. By that time, she was not only guarding the dome, but also given assignments for protecting officials and other important people. -Kin Reni|Mother|Alive|High-Blood Marcello|Step Father|Alive|High-Blood Kenel|Father|Dead|Low-Blood |Appearance| Lyssana has straight black hair that goes down to her shoulderblades, and has white highlights all through it. She usually wears it down, but if dressing up nice will put it up. Her eyes are a blue-green color, leaning towards a color depending on the light, and are lighters shades of bother colors. She stands at 5'8, and has a nice body that is well muscled. Her shoulders are fairly broad, from the training she does. Her skin is fairly pale, like most High-bloods' are, and she has the beauty that goes with it too. She likes to wear light colors, preferably cool shades as well, but that's only when off duty. Normally V-necked shirts or tank-tops, and leggings that go juš past her knees, along with something with a hood so she had hide her face if needed. Her belt holds a short-sword and a pair of daggers, but she had more than just two knives hidden on her person. -Picture- Lyssana |Other| -Er, Classical? Maybe? I don't actually listen to music that often xD -Just to be clear, she has no idea she is of Mixed-Blood ------------------------------------------------------------------ |Name| Cylla |Age| 22 |Gender| Female -Sexuality- Bisexual |Lineage| Low-blood -Occupation- Rebel |Personality| Cylla is first off, pretty heartless. She is a strong believer in survival of the fittest, and fairly sadistic on top of that. Of course, she doesn't usually act that way openly, more like deep down. The only time she would show mercy or help out someone who was really struggling were if it were a friend, and even then she'd lie and make up some reason for it. She doesn't like the thought of people figuring her out, so tries to throw off images of herself if they get to be too normal. She's pretty selfish, as most of the things she does are for herself. Even if it looks like she's doing something helpful or useful, there's probably an ulterior motive. She's rebellious for the hell of it, and likes to cause chaos for authority simply because she can. She doesn't like to have someone shoving themselves in her face, which is a good part of why Cylla's in the rebellion; the whole bowing and scraping to accommodate the High-bloods doesn't sit well with her. She likes to appear aloof, and mocking (mostly towards the High-bloods), and sometimes she has good reason for it. She's good with her hands, especially assembling weapons and other gadgets, and is very smart. Mostly self-taught too, since she didn't have the privilege of going to school under a dome. Her favorite weapon is a gun, which she has two of, but she also really likes a little knife she made that shocks people when it touches them. She probably trusts Wolfgang the most out of the rebels, and considers him the closest thing she has to a friend, but wouldn't admit to it. She has no ambition of her own to lead a rebel group, and instead is fine with following him. -Strengths- -Loyal to friends -Very Clever -Good at improvising weapons -Weaknesses- -Selfish -Aloof -Merciless -Alignment- Chaotic Neutral |History| Cylla was born the middle of five children in a tribe a couple of cities over from the capitol to a Low-Blood family. While her younger sister was babied, she was tough, and every opportunity she got fought with her brothers for being the best at whatever, be it fighting, running, or hunting. Her parents let her behave like that, and when her brothers started learning to hunt and fight to defend and help the tribe, she did too. Her parents did not punish her often, glad she was so eager to 'help', so that whenever someone put pressure on her to behave, she fought them too. She learned she hated being bossed around, and that lead to hating the rules of their life; don't defy the High-bloods or the Protectors. Of course, she never did to their faces, knowing those who did got taken away, or killed. And, as hot and hard as desert life was, she didn't want to die. Mostly to spite those who wanted the Low-bloods that defied them dead. She got her tattoos when she joined the hunting parties of her tribe, along with her second oldest brother. The other two went into mining, and earned her scorn; it was a low job, without honor. She came to enjoy being a hunter, exploring and fighting, but the rebellion grew more and more prominent as time passed. Honestly, she probably wouldn't have involved herself if the Protector hadn't begun taking her tribe members away. It irked her to think that they could just do that whenever they wanted. And, each raid raised the chance that she would end up taken away.So, she disappeared, taking only her necessarily belongings with her. And since she did that every time she went hunting, and she didn't return, her family assumed she was dead. Cylla dropped her last name, severing all ties except for her tattoos that identified which tribe she had come from. Then, she sought out the rebellion, joining a guy named Wolfgang in making their way to Solaire. -Kin- -Mata|Mother| -Terran|Father| -Kerri|Sister|Younger -Khmer|Brother|Younger -Jenner|Brother|Older -Terrell|Brother|Older (Cylla does not know, or particularly care, if her family members are alive or dead) |Appearance| Cylla stands at 5'8, with a lean, attractive, hourglass figure. She is well muscled, but not obviously so, so that her strength is often underestimated. Her skin is tanned from spending her whole life in the desert sun. She keeps her black hair very short, and kinda choppy and uneven. Her eyes are a very bright shade of blue, almost sky blue, and under her right eye she has a tattoo. It is a crescent moon shape, points facing up, with two vertical lines running through it at 1/3 and 2/3 the way across (If you need an example, look up Torian from SWTOR.) The other tattoo consists of three thin bands around her right forearm, right before the wrist. Her top usually a sleeveless crop top or a tank top, and pants are loose for manuverability, but close enough to the skin so that they won't get in the way. Her shirt is usually white, while her pants would be dark colors. She has a belt than holds her two guns that she patched together from some broken ones she found, while her shock-knife is hidden in her boots. Her ears are both pierced twice, with silver studs in them, and she wears a leather cord necklace that has a tooth on it from her first hunt. -Picture- Cylla |Other| (I think I'm done! And Hi Pallis!! :D ) 0 players like this post! Like?Edited on 18/08/15 by Hawkmask (#41743) |
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𝑀𝒾𝓈𝒸𝒽 𝒾𝑒 (#16496) King of the Jungle View Forum Posts Posted on 2015-08-16 16:37:37 |
W.I.P Still editing |Name| Rzeka |Age| Twenty-Six |Gender| Female |Sexuality| Pansexual |Lineage| Low Blood |Occupation| Thief |Personality| A wolf in sheep's clothing is the only way to describe Rzeka. She is quite sadistic, ready to fight and humiliate anyone in her path. Not afraid to even make fools out of nobles or steal from their pockets. Insult her or beat her, she will simply laugh at you without flinching. Having a drunk and abusive uncle, she is now a bullet ready to pierce anyone. Rzeka does not care who you are, she will manipulate you and then crush you. Molly however is Rzeka's biggest weakness, especially when she is attacked by snuggles and kisses. This is the only weapon that can bring Rzeka to her knees, her three year old daughter. Rzeka just can't help but be a good mother, or at least she tries. From being a thievish brute, she is quickly transformed into a loving mother. |Strengths| Pickpocketing, Swift, Fast Runner, Stonehearted, Manipulation. |Weaknesses| Daughter, Social Skills, Weak in strength, Unable to let people in, Brutish. |History| Rzeka was born in a small village, or so she was told. The only memory of her mother was when they visited her grandmother. This is her only and last memory of her mother because that day, Rzeka was abandoned. Her mother left her when visiting and never came back. Rzeka can't remember anything about her parents now or what they even looked like. Only blurry photos and stories told by her grandmother has filled the gaps. Growing up was hard because her uncle wasn't afraid to get the belt. In drunk rages, it was harsh when he took his anger out on her. Of course her grandmother was always there at the end, hugging her, comforting her, and sometimes even protecting her. Rzeka was taught, or you could say even programed; She was made to steal without being caught. When she was caught a beating always came, sometimes twice. Theft was the only thing she knew for the longest time. Having a childhood was just a dream. From a young child to an adult, Rzeka didn't even know she was living. This all changed one day. After her uncle dying, she was freed to do anything she pleased. Instead of being free though, Rzeka was just lost. So one day while pickpocketing, someone grabbed her wrist to stop her. The person ended up being a man servant, at least that is what he told Rzeka. After insults and bumping into each other more than once, it became a deep love. This is when Rzeka became pregnant with her daughter. After telling her beloved, Rzeka never saw him again. Now Rzeka is the happiest with her three year old daughter. |Kin| Daughter: Alive Father: Unknown Mother: Unknown - Walked Out Grandmother: Alive Uncle: Deceased |Appearance| Rzeka has a warm touch to her skin, although it can be said she is paler than most. Being more active at night, the sun is an uncommon sight now. Her auburn hair barely reaches her shoulders. On her arms and shoulders you can see quite a few freckles. When she is out in the sun, more freckles appear just about everywhere. Rzeka also has brown eyes, but more in the light tone of honey. Outfits usually consist of darker colors to blend into the night. Her rare bright colored outfits are almost nonexistent, but she does have them for the daylight. Rzeka always wears her black leather boots that almost reach her knees. They do have a metal heel, just in case she has to shake something or someone off. Flexible, skin tight, and yet comfortable are the only clothing she wears. The only way you are making her wear a dress is if she is playing dress up with Molly. |Theme song| Nightcore - Angel With A Shotgun |Other| I think I'm done here. |Roleplay example| Do I have to? I'm so lazy and tired... x3 I can put one up later. 0 players like this post! Like?Edited on 21/08/15 by Mr Fab-FABULOUS!! (#16496) |
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P a l l i s (#42550)
Deathlord of the Jungle View Forum Posts Posted on 2015-08-17 10:08:23 |
@hawkmask Hey!! Long time no see :D you'll be accepted as soon as you finish up your character sheet, and I think it's fine to skip the rp example since I've already rped with you quite a bit. Also, I like the idea for your character's occupation (and secret)! @Mr fab Alright sounds good! 0 players like this post! Like? |
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Hawkmask (#41743)
Famous View Forum Posts Posted on 2015-08-17 11:28:31 |
How've you been? I finished my form :D What kind of armor do Protectors wear? 0 players like this post! Like? |
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plaguegi (#50900)
Vicious View Forum Posts Posted on 2015-08-17 11:31:34 |
|Name| Grayson Ramsey |Age| 34 |Gender| Male -Sexuality: Heterosexual |Lineage| High Blood -Occupation: Engineer |Personality| Grayson is a more or less even tempered man, with a liking for the little things in life; mainly getting dirty. Good with his hands as he may be, Grayson seeks solace in keeping himself busy and preoccupied: when alone, or without any distractions, his mind is overflowing with thoughts and ideas that often times leave him with a pounding skull and full notebook. As such, it is no wonder he is an engineer. He's effective with what he does and genuinely enjoys doing it, even if he's caught staring at the city walls in a nostalgic manner. That said, Grayson has another attribute to him: he's protective. He likes to keep everyone around him safe and things in order; if he sees a fight, he will break it up and continue on as if nothing happened. To him, the idea of a rebellion is ludicrous and nerve racking. He supports the ideas of equality and fairness, but he has only been confronted with the low bloods so many times, and never before has he faced the struggles that lay outside of the domes. To sum him up: Grayson is kind, considerably sympathetic, and a paternal figure. He sets an example and believes everyone else should too- when it comes down to the darker bits of him, there's not much to be found. He's been a good kid, turned out as any other, and grew as an average High Blood Rukian. However, one thing did become blatantly obvious: his impulsive decision making and inattentiveness when his hands weren't busy. As such, he's known to act irrationally when put in stressful decisions. -Strengths: Paternal, Open Minded, Faithful -Weaknesses: Mild case of ADHD, Impulsive, Passive Aggressive |History| As a youth, Grayson was entirely focused on becoming an Honor Protector. He succeeded and engaged in the role, but after a short year on the job missed 'it'. That one tiny detail, the smallest of things, and he paid for it dearly. Not only was he kicked off the guard, but he now bares scars and a permanent hitch in his right shoulder as well as two stiff fingers. They bend when moved, but he has no feeling of them and so cannot move them without use of his other hand or fingers. Once off the Protector Unit, Grayson opted for the occupation of an Engineer. It kept his mind busy and he was able to practice taking note of small details. Funny, how easy it is when it's on paper or placed in front of you for critic. -Kin: Grayson's parents died when he was aged 27; His sister, however, Anna Marie Parkinson aged 29 is still alive and now married to a man named John K. Parkinson. They had one daughter, whom left for tribe life. |Appearance| Well to begin, Grayson's figure is most aptly described as thick. 5'10" and 178Ibs, his muscle is compact at his chest and shoulders, giving him a sort of 'dorito' figure, save for the pudgy look at his midsection. Do not confuse it for fat, though; just because it doesn't look ripped doesn't mean it isn't muscle. As for body modifications, well there are definitely scars. One lays long and jagged at his shoulder blade, it's beginning laying just by the shoulder and slicing downward and diagonally toward his spine. Smaller scars slice along his forearms, knuckles and hands, another long one made known at his ribs and cutting horizontally from his center torso to beneath his right arm. Another thing would be tattoos. Yes, he has them. Thick black tribal markings, put on his skin to show his approval for his niece even though it was considered unpopular and, honestly, if anyone knew their meanings he'd likely get in trouble. These black markings lay at his left shoulder and bicep, as well as the left side of his collarbone. For attire, Grayson likes dull earthy tones that 'breath' and are comfortable to move around and work in. The only things he's constantly seen with is a thick silver ring on his right thumb and two necklaces: one chain with a pendant of sorts at it's end and the other cordage with beads strewn along it. -Picture: Tom Hardy Faceclaim |Theme song| Never Too Late by Three Days Grace |Other| I'd have to say... Classic Rock, maybe? |Roleplay example| It was dark, the sky pitch black and broken only by tiny silver blips oh so high above. Dressed in standard uniform, the Protector didn't notice the boy. No older than seventeen, his clothes hung loose on his skinny frame and his skin was plastered in grime and dust. Sweat stained, smelling of hard work and rubble, the shivering figure clutched in his hands what would ultimately end his life- whether by blast or by information getting around to him as the assailant, he didn't yet know. When the Protector finally took notice of the foreign figure, his head turned. Pale gray eyes studied the terrain, passing harmlessly over the perfectly still shape that blended so well into the rocks. The Protector's name was none other than Grayson Ramsey, face young and the only scar adorning him being the slight crick to his nose from having had it broken so many times. Then, movement again catching his eye, all to be seen was the skinny boy and his apparent struggles. Thinking of his niece, still rather small and just learning how to speak properly, the stupid and impulsive man threw all precautions to the dry desert wind and jogged out to help the boy. Unbeknownst to him, the struggling figure had got his foot caught in a hole- the sight of the approaching Protector, now followed by two comrades, only served to panic him. So, bony fingers grasping for his small object, he yanked hard on a wire and threw it. At first, it bounced harmlessly across the ground. Then, with but a blink of a red light for warning, it blew. For Grayson, all he felt was intense heat beyond that of any sunburn or fire. It seared at his skin and threw him back, something sharp slicing through his clothes and tearing along his side as he rolled. Laying face down, crimson blossoms staining his uniform, his eyes lifted and bleary vision just began to focus. A few yards away, one of his comrades lay broken against a stone. The other, he realized, lay heavy and unresponsive on his legs. Now seeking the boy, the mans' stomach lurched into his throat and his head turned. Fingers dusted gravel and grit aside as he moved forward, intense pain knifing at his right side and shoulder. Kicking off his comrade, Grayson could only roll to face the sky and arch his spine as it throbbed furiously back at him for his actions. Then, looking to the sky again, he marveled at how much brighter those little blips of light looked... then, watching them fade in and out of view, he closed his eyes and welcomed the black. |Name| Blair Valentine |Age| 21 |Gender| Female -Sexuality: Pansexual |Lineage| Low Blood -Occupation: Honorless/Rebel |Personality| Blair is... well, she's like a Françoise Nielly Painting. An assortment of colors used to create a whole picture, often times with the appearance of being broken apart and pieced together using different materials. This girl, once a bright and friendly figure, was virtually shattered when her best friend let her take the fall for something she hadn't done. So she pieced herself back together, made herself something more, and rose to something great. And by 'something great', I of course mean a troublesome Low Blood who was all to happy to jump on the revolution band wagon. She's driven by cold hard hate for what happened to her, and now seeks 'justice'. Whether that be by punishing that particular individual or not isn't really known; rather, she just wants to make a life for herself and redeem the wrongs done by her and to her. Moving past her faults, Blair is a strategic thinker and combat ready. She feels little remorse when it comes to pulling the trigger, and as far as loyalty goes it continuously surpasses what she thought possible. If there's someone she doesn't particularly like, it will be her loyalty in her leader and cause that prevents her from being straight up rude and dismissive. On another note, this young woman believes people should be liked or disliked for their personalities rather than appearances and ranks. To her, being decided by blood status has always been baffling. -Strengths: Loyal, Courageous, Daring, Bold -Weaknesses: Blunt, Stubborn, Narrow Minded, Anger Management |History| Blair was, once upon a time, one of those High Bloods that lived in the cities. Then, her life long friend by the name of Candace Richards, did something despicable. Feeling cheated that her friend had gained the attention of her crush, she spread a rumor that Blair was mixed blood. When her records were checked and she came up clean, Candace was to be arrested. But poor, naive, unbearably stubborn Blair wouldn't have it. So... she told them that she was Mixed. Why, she still doesn't know. Cast out as Honorless, she at least hoped her former friend would apologize or show some sort of regret. When nothing came, Blair became angry and aggressive to anyone she met. Working in the mines, she left as a teenager to find a tribe. A member for only three short years before joining the Rebellion, she's spent the last year helping anyone who seeks to rebel. -Kin: As far her kin are concerned, Blair is dead to them. So she took a new surname, Valentine, rather than her former one of Bkendser. |Appearance| Blair is an average height woman at 5'7 1/2", with tanned skin and bleach blonde hair, often times confused for a stark ivory in the sun. With a button nose, full lips and doe-like emerald green eyes, she has a subtle heart-shaped face and angular features. Her bodily structure is a modest hour glass figure- she isn't particularly thin, but she's toned from working and her slim hands are tough from her time in the mines. As far as modifications go, Blair does have a few. Placed on her back and taking up the entire expanse of her shoulder blades, as well as a section the center of her upper back, are tribal tattoos from her time in a tribe. This same tattoo is made visible over her shoulders, near her throat, and is visible whenever she isn't wearing a high collared jacket. -Picture: Faceclaim |Theme song| Maps by Maroon 5 - Cover by Max and Alyson Stoner |Other| I'd have to say... Classic Rock, maybe? |Roleplay example| Well it was hot as always. And she, as typical, was wearing enough clothes that she felt like the inside of an oven. Blair's chest heaved in a quiet sigh, tongue smoothing over chapped lips beneath the gray-green cloth concealing her face from the nose down. Hair tied back, the glare of the sun burning her eyes, she glared out at the colorless planet she now called home. Sitting up, knees pressed into the dirt, she turned to her pack and yanked out a hand crafted shiv. She used it to slice at the dried meat she had stored, ripping a strip off for now and packing the rest away for later. She chewed on that same piece for ten minutes as she packed her things, then getting up and walking. Honestly, she'd love to take a bath. When was the last time she'd even had one? Too long to remember- the water out here was boiling hot, even when she waited for nightfall when the temperatures dropped. Making her way along to one of the more widely known land marks, the woman's eyes sought out what appeared to be an abandoned mine shaft- but oh, she knew better. Dropping down, she was met immediately by the dark and stale, only somewhat cooler air. Fashioning a light source, she walked in silence until the tunnel widened and new light greeted her, as well as the sounds of others and the sweet aroma of food. Funny, really, that they could make these underground markets. Now why didn't anyone make cities like this? It would be so much better... But for now, her thoughts were focused on trade and seeking more information about the rebellion. ignore this, just placing some other songs that also fit my characters... brainstorming cx We Are Soldiers by Otherwise Bad Company by Five Finger Deathpunch Aha! by Nightcore Last Resort by Papa Roach You're So Creepy by Ghost Town Demons (Imagine Dragons) Cover by Jasmine Thompson done! i wasn't sure what to write in the roleplay examples, usually there's more emotion. x-x 0 players like this post! Like?Edited on 17/08/15 by PlagueRat (#50900) |
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P a l l i s (#42550)
Deathlord of the Jungle View Forum Posts Posted on 2015-08-17 14:14:50 |
@Hawkmask Good question! I'll probably wait to talk about what the Protector uniforms look like with Mr fab here because the story is mostly their concept, and i'll edit the thread post with a description and possibly a reference for what the uniforms look like. @Plaguerat Great characters! (and I'm loving the Tom Hardy faceclaim). One thing, though, about Grayson is his tattoos. As weary of 'outsiders' as the highbloods are, they would definitely be highly suspicious of anyone with tribal tattoos, and a highblood bearing a low blood marking of any sort could face harsh penalties. I suggest that if Grayson had tribal tattoos, he would most likely be meticulous about covering the them up, as any suspicion from fellow highbloods could be deadly for him. I think him having to hide them would be a little cool, too. Other than that, your characters are accepted! [Note: I also changed some small, but slightly important things in Wolfgang's bio. There are some changes in his personality and appearance (regarding his weapons), but the most important I think would be in the latter half of his history.] 0 players like this post! Like?Edited on 17/08/15 by Prince Pallis (#42550) |
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Hawkmask (#41743)
Famous View Forum Posts Posted on 2015-08-17 14:31:04 |
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plaguegi (#50900)
Vicious View Forum Posts Posted on 2015-08-17 14:38:44 |
Dully noted, I think I'll have him hide them. c: Makes him a little more unique! I love Tom Hardy and he looks fabulous with a beard, plus scruffy is always great in rps like this (otherwise it probably would have been Chris Evans, if i'm being honest) ;3 0 players like this post! Like? |
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P a l l i s (#42550)
Deathlord of the Jungle View Forum Posts Posted on 2015-08-17 15:09:24 |
@Plaguerat Love the idea! And I know, right? I really loved him in Mad Max (and honestly mad max is one of the first things that came to my mind with this roleplay, probably because of the desert setting) @everyone Although you probably already noticed it, we did lower the number of people in the RP from 8 to 7, because I assumed it would get a little crowded with a lot of us having two characters. Speaking of which, I'll probably be adding in a second character soon (Hawkmask, you'll reconize this one). This rp already sounds like it's going to be very exciting! 0 players like this post! Like?Edited on 17/08/15 by Prince Pallis (#42550) |
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plaguegi (#50900)
Vicious View Forum Posts Posted on 2015-08-17 15:15:36 |
I was actually going to have him as a rebel with a mad max reference but i changed my mind... cx I wished he talked more in Fury Road. His voice was drool worthy. ;-; 0 players like this post! Like? |
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P a l l i s (#42550)
Deathlord of the Jungle View Forum Posts Posted on 2015-08-17 15:24:26 |
@Plaguerat ahah Mad max was definitely my inspiration behind Wolfgang (to be honest, I was even listening to the Mad Max soundtrack while creating him) I absolutely love Grayson's character concept as it is, though! And yes, I definitely agree. Also, I'm opening up the OOC chat right now so we all may continue talking about mad max and things regarding the rp and whatever the hell else in freedom! Edit: the OOC chat is now open! 0 players like this post! Like?Edited on 17/08/15 by Prince Pallis (#42550) |
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plaguegi (#50900)
Vicious View Forum Posts Posted on 2015-08-17 15:36:32 |
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FieryWrench (#31573)
Prince of the Savannah View Forum Posts Posted on 2015-08-18 17:30:19 |
|Name| Terradelle Fischer |Age|19 |Gender|Female -Sexuality-Bisexual |Lineage| High-Blood -Occupation- Scientist (Biologist specifically) |Personality| Terradelle maybe a prodigy, but she is no social butterfly. She is a quiet and reserved young woman that often comes off as stuck up. It has nothing to do with her nobel lineage. She just doesn't like interacting with other humans. Especially those that don't meet her standards for intelligence, that being most of the human race. She cares more about efficiency than anything else and enjoys learning new things and studying them. She works in her father's lab, studying the genetics of creatures that have adapted to live inside the the hot waters of Rukia. The logic of her mind overrides her emotions making her seem cold and heartless, and quite honestly can be. Emotions get in the way. They make her less efficient. She cares for little more than her science. When Terradelle gets caught in a project, her focus goes to that and that only. She becomes completely unaware of her surroundings and even her own bodily functions. She will starve herself half to death if no one reminds her. She enjoys learning about everything, but never truly immerses herself in them. She's a Jill of all trades but a master of none. She knows how to do nearly everything, but only well enough to be acceptable. She really couldn't care less about the rebellion. Let the people do as they wish so long as she can do her work, study and learn. Though she would love to see where the rebellion leads. Watch what would happen with the low-bloods were to topple the government. She knows well enough that the system is flawed and full heartedly believes that the only way to fix it is to destroy it, and maybe even civilization as they know it, and rebuild everything from scratch. However, she's too lazy to do anything about it so long as the end result doesn't have much affect on her science. -Strengths-Intellegence, Biological expert/medical knowledge, open minded, quick learner, Jill of all trades -Weaknesses-Laziness/apathy, childishness, unobservant, terrible social skills, master of no skills -Alignment-Lawful Neutral |History|Terradelle comes from a long line of nobility and prodigies. Her family is well known for their intelligence, and she lives well up to their name. She was born in Solaire to a renown biologist father and was practically raised in his lab. She never knew her mother who had died during childbirth, but knew that she was a musician, a cellist for a large orchestra that would preform around Rukia, and born from a high lineage with a large estate. She was named after her grandmother who had genetically engineered a new species of lizard, the entire population of which resides only within her father's lab. She has a rather boring life story, the entirety of it dedicated to studying and schooling. She was homeschooled all of her life leading her to join a college at the age of 17 which she never graduated from, opting instead to work in her father's lab leaving her with 8 incomplete classes. -Kin Camery Fischer-Father Tilliana Fischer-Mother [Deceased] |Appearance| Terradelle doesn't look like a prodigy at first sight. She looks not at all like a professional scientist of a long line of nobility. She keeps her dark hair cut short and never bothers to brush it down in the morning, leaving it standing straight up in a sort of faux hawk. She has dark brown eyes with a speck of blue in her right eye where she stabbed herself with a needle to test an experimental drug her uncle was working on which would help combat autoimmune attacks. She considers herself rather tall at 5'8" with almond shaped eyes and high cheekbones. Her skin is a velvety bronze and stretched over a slim frame. If it weren't for her healthy skin tone she would appear almost sickly, with thin wrists and a tiny waist with almost nothing between her skin and her bones. If she isn't in a lab coat she wears exclusively black clothing, consisting of almost nothing but tight tee shirts and cargo pants. She likes the pockets, they're efficient and black is harder to stain. She always wears her steel toed boots which make her an almost intimidating 5'10". |Other|-Alternative rock |Roleplay example| Terradelle sat staring at the creature wriggling its way along the bottom of the tank with her clipboard in hand glancing occasionally at the thermometer on the wall as she scrawled notes across the page in her atrocious handwriting. She could feel the heat even from where she stood six feet away behind walls of glass, yet the beast showed no signs of discomfort. She checked the time on her pocket watch, then the temperature once again wondering how much higher it needed to be to have any affect on the damned thing. Footsteps echoed somewhere behind her, but she paid no mind, marking the creature's swimming pattern wondering if it held any significance. She needed to know. She needed know how much heat it could sustain. She needed to know how far she could push it. She needed to know what happened when she pushed it even further. Would it die? How long would that take? Why? How? Could she take that out and give it to the people? Give them a new way to live? How would they abuse it? The temperature rose high still. Well past fleshing searing for humans, yet the creature carried on. Wait. What's this? It's becoming frantic. Slamming against the sides of the tank. She checked the time. Checked the temperature. Higher it went. The creature was swimming upwards but met nothing but more glass in its attempt to escape. Higher. Higher. "Terradelle its 5 in the morning." Someone said directly behind her making her jump and turn to face the speaker. When she looked back at the tank, the creature was dead. She check the temperature, but it was still rising. "Dammit Father, don't do that." She muttered, scribbling in her notes grumbling on, "I missed it. Now I have to start over" |Name|Caleb |Age|22 |Gender|Male -Sexuality-straight (but liable to change) |Lineage| low-blood -Occupation-rebel/loner |Personality|Caleb hates everything. He had gotten the sort end of the stick quite a bit growing up and it didn't sit well with him. In his mind all humans at just flesh sacks that have a bad habit of getting in his way. He want's the high-bloods to suffer for throwing him out to die. He wants the low-bloods to die for taking all his resources. He wants the honor protectors to die for being stupid zealots and making his life harder than it needs to be. He wants everyone in-between to die for just being stupid. Again. Caleb. Hates. Everything. He's extremely easy to anger, but can be charismatic when he needs to be. He will do anything he has to, to get what he wants. He doesn't think about other people's feelings, and says whatever's on his mind which leads him to trouble more than he likes. He has no time for morals. He's a survivor. He'll work with the rebels, help them out, do whatever they need him to, but he would do it just to watch the world fall, forget basic human rights. However, in his fight for survival and the loss of all his morals, his mind fractured. His consciousness often times splits into multiple personalities, leaving him arguing with himself and prone to extreme mood swings. -Strengths- trained in survival, armed/unarmed combat, quick wits, organized -Weaknesses-tempermental, mild case of insanity, extremely paranoid, impulsive, no self control -Alignment-Chaotic evil |History| Caleb was born of mixed blood. His father a high-blood and his mother a low blood. He spent only a few years of his life in the capital with his father, but at the ripe age of six was kicked out of the dome. His father tried to be kind about it, delivering discretely into the arms of his mother in the in hospital wastelands that would be his new home, but his mother was neglectful to say the least. Caleb found himself stabbed on multiple occasions due to his mother's extreme paranoia. He practically had to raise himself. When he finally did leave his mother to die in the desert, he was kidnapped by a tribe and forced into slavery. Shortly thereafter his mind finally snapped and he murdered all of them, women, children and all. -Kin Alexander Blackavelle-Father Yonellia-Mother Andrew Blackavelle-half brother |Appearance| Caleb is lean. Thin, but covered in muscles from years of fending for himself. He has bright green eyes that almost seethe with hatred, set into a sharp face with a strong chin framed with a wild mane of light brown curls that fall between his shoulder blades. Nearly every inch of his body is covered in scars from some tussle or stupid decision or another, including the brand right above his hip bone on the left side that marked him as a slave. Caleb, more often than not, runs around shirtless, crawling into whatever he gets his hands on, that usually being oversized and extremely tattered, but he doesn't care much. He does what he can to maintain an acceptable appearance but doesn't care much for fashion. |Other|sometimes post-hardcore |Roleplay example| Caleb stood over the blood remains of what may have been a human once. He couldn't properly remember. His fury must have taken over again making him kill blindly. The last thing he remembered was asking for food or water maybe. She must have said no. Bitch should have thought twice. He gave a visible shrug thinking to himself it was less competition anyway before turning to beginning scavenging through her belongings, few they maybe. He found some dried meat and began tearing into it straight away, not even thinking to ration it. He would date himself for it later he was sure, but in that moment he couldn't care. He had food. Some water, however little it was. He was covered in blood and the stickiness annoyed him, but he had food in his stomach and would be satiated for now. When he had had his fill he sat back to sort through the rest of the corpse's things, separating them into piles and very carefully packing them into his sack which was filled mainly with various blades. He had everything from small shivs, to even a full sword he kept sheathed with the hand sticking out of the top of his back. It was notably heavier when he swung the it back over his shoulder with a satisfying click of metal upon metal. He smiled to himself, finding the sound of blades reassuring, before continuing on his. 0 players like this post! Like?Edited on 19/08/15 by FieryWrench (#31573) |
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P a l l i s (#42550)
Deathlord of the Jungle View Forum Posts Posted on 2015-08-19 02:23:26 |
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