Mobley's Character Bank

Mobley Eats

Consume. Smother your doubts. Be fulfilled.
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LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. 1-3 posts per day
  2. One post per day
  3. 1-3 posts per week
  4. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Female
  3. Transgender
  4. Primarily Prefer Female
  5. No Preferences
Genres
Modern, Romance, Fantasy, Scifi, Drama, Action.
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Basic

Name - Anton Jubali Sheerloft
Age - 17
Birthday - February 12, 1998
Gender - Male
Sexuality - Demisexual
Power - Sand/Glass
Occupation - Student, Junior


School Information

Room Number - 5, Boys Dorm
Year - Junior
House - Aer
Electives - Sword Fighting and Hand-to-Hand Combat
Clubs - Book Club, Member
Sports - None


Appearance

Hair - Dark hair cut into a medium fade.
Eyes - His eyes are a sad and dark hue of chocolate.
Body - He stands at a height of 6'0" and weighing approximately 175 lbs. He has a fairly muscular build and carries himself with a carefree yet smooth gait.
Complexion - Dark skin tone
Dress - For his uniform, Anton tends to be quite loose. The top two buttons of his undershirt are always unbuttoned, with his silver tie loosened. His blazer is completely unbuttoned (unless a teacher catches him...then he's gotta button up, which is no fun). Underneath his khakis, his socks are either black or white; either way, they fade from attention whenever he dawns his precious sandals, which are black, old, and have duct tape holding the heels in place. He refuses to wear any other footwear unless the circumstances truly, seriously beckons for it. In casual clothing, he's usually sporting a simple white t-shirt and beige shorts or a long-sleeve sweater with a low-hanging v-neck and fitting blue jeans.


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Extra - Anton is slathered in tattoos. A sleeve of floral designs decorate his right arm from shoulder to elbow, several personal quotes splayed across his pectorals, the phrase "reflect before you deflect" across his upper back, and a tribal sun on his left shoulder. From time to time, he proudly displays his ox-piercing alongside his ear studs, but understands that the tattoos can be off-putting on their own and tends to keep them off.

Persona

Personality - Anton believes in one thing and one thing only--to go with the flow and shine with your unique light in the process. He is eccentric, outspoken, and always itching to socialize with whoever has the patience to listen to his constant chatter. By no means is he a gossip or rumor spreader, but Anton always finds himself in that awkward position of being everyone's "Dirty Secret Closet". So it would always end up with him caught in the middle of two people's drama, watching them go back and forth helplessly like an intense tennis match. The only method he has for dismantling arguments is to scream out "Party Trick!" and start playing the Cup Song...The success rate is 50/50. Outside of his unfortunate magnetism for petty drama, Anton also has a series of ticks that result in some form of light skin mutilation. They can range from picking at his forearm until scratches appear on Monday to biting off the sensitive edges of his thumb on Friday. They're all unconscious and annoying habits that Anton does his best to hide.

Despite his bubbly personality, Anton hits his low moments every now and then. He'd rather jump into a tar pit than to place his emotional burdens onto others; thus in those times, he will excuse himself for a day or two and recuperate in isolation. Once he returns, he pretends as if he never disappeared to begin with and keeps it moving.

Likes - Making others laugh, body art, socializing, Diet Iced Peach/Green Tea, Sweet Tea, sweets, emotional bonding, earning other's trust, cats and dogs, forensic science and deduction (he'll binge Forensic Files like it's nobody's business)
Dislikes - Asparagus (it makes your pee smell weird...), heights, manipulating others/lying, drama taken a tad too far, frogs and lizards, hot weather, dark chocolate, stress
Hobbies - Hanging out with friends, watching Stand Up comedians, pretending that everyone is involved in some sort of conspiracy and narrating their criminal lifestyles in a horrid accent (don't ask him what nationality because he has no freaking idea), drawing little pictures on his skin with temporary marker
Strengths - Adaptable, a team player, innovative-thinker, agile and fast, good with clues and deduction
Weakness - Has a history of stress-induced seizures, gullible, grows attached to someone far too quickly, overly curious, passive to a fault, easily distracted
Fears - Abandonment, loneliness, never reaching self-actualization, seizing at the worst possible moment
Ambition - As much as this petrifies Anton, he has no real ambitions in life besides surviving the turmoil brought on by war. As long as he lives a happy life and watches his loved ones grow into the wonderful people they're destined to be, he can't fathom asking for anything more.


History

Anton's life was rather taxing.

The Sheerlofts had taken root along the eastern coast, jumping from city to city as the generations passed and their business evolved, which was the cultivating of clay minerals to create and sell ceramics. An artistic flare was tantamount to the Sheerloft name, on top of learning the ins and outs of how to find the clay they needed in abundance. No season, no stray storm forecast, no rising of the tides was ignored if one wished to pinpoint a bed of rich sediment on the Pacific coast. Children of the Sheerloft family are traditionally given the option of whether to enhance their eye for design or hone their intuition for clay hunting--there was never an alternative.

Thus, Anton believed himself to share an affinity for clay hunting, as he always loved the sensation of his bare feet sifting through the sand, as if he was gliding effortlessly on air. The tangy taste of sea salt in the hair, the crisp breeze dancing off the shore, the gorgeous blend of colors and hues as it stained the setting horizon--he loved all of it. However, Anton was disheartened and discouraged upon realizing his troubles with learning the ways of clay hunting. With each new beach his family explored, the more confused he became. A sudden change of scenery, a wrench thrown into the learning process. He found himself trapped in a perpetual loop of playing Catch Up. Finally, at the age of 9, he asked his parents to move him to the design department of their family business. The request was unexpected and his parents warned him that he'd be diving headfirst into advanced territory with absolutely no training in his arsenal. Anton understood these consequences and accepted them for what they were.

Unfortunately, this department proved to be far more frustrating than clay hunting. No matter how majestic his mind's eye envisioned a design, his hands couldn't breathe life to the image. His ceramic pieces were pathetic and sad in their design, the dips and glazes always a dull, ugly mess. The impatience had spread throughout his family, resulting in Anton falling to the bottom of the latter and lurking within his siblings' shadows. He was caught in limbo for a few months and often avoided work altogether to roam the beach on bare feet, hoping to distance himself from the awful stress and pressure. On one of those occasions, he had stumbled upon a cave a few miles away from home and deemed it his personal sanctuary. The inflow was tame and slow, which softened the sand into something pleasant and malleable. It was quiet, filled with a gentle ambiance of waters wading and distant seagulls flapping. However, when Anton grew curious and ventured deeper into the cave, the sand underneath him caved and he began to sink. The child was certain that he would suffocating in a prison of wet sand, over for solidified blocks to form at his hands and feet. He had quickly climbed his way out, eyes wide and shocked at the phenomenon.

He ran home and refused to tell a soul about the experience.

Anton spent the next handful of months secretly honing his elemental abilities on the beach, all while dealing with the stress of his family business. The combined workload proved to be negative for his health, as he had underwent a seizure in the middle of ceramic glazing and was rushed to medical aid. It was suggested that he must avoid the pressures of the Sheerloft business. In the end, Anton's condition was both a curse and blessing. No longer forced to craft ceramics, he devoted nearly all of his time to manipulating sand and exploring his skills, all while understanding how much stress his body could handle before the warning signs kicked in. He had unveiled his abilities to his family, whose reactions were a mixture of awe and indifference. Up until the age of 14, Anton had a firm grasp of sand manipulation, often inventing new and creative ways to apply his findings (such as helping his family find clay pits every once in a while), on top of dallying in the dimensions of glass.

Nonetheless, whatever plans he had afterwards were shattered when the war began.

Moving from city to city was no longer a safe option. Any customer interest in fine ceramics and porcelain were tossed into the back burner as fear and conflict blistered to staggering heights. The Sheerloft business, after generations of flourish, was squandered like an ant beneath the heel of a boot. Finances were initially stable, as the family had a hefty sum left in their savings from their lucrative profits, but it soon waned and left them in a desperate abyss. When Anton turned 16, one, and only thing good thing came out of this misery--it forced the Sheerlofts to view the world through fresh lenses and appreciate one another. Like a real family. Slowly, but ever so surely, Anton's family began to sympathize and care for him; it was because of this change that he finally felt secure enough to admit that he felt useless. As if he had no real purpose in life.

They all encouraged him to transfer to Celsius Academy. Anton still had no real goal in mind, but his family had hopes that this new chapter in his life would place him on the right path towards something meaningful. Of course, acceptance would be difficult and expensive to obtain, but the Sheerlofts had taken a huge chunk out of their remaining funds to help. Fortunately, Anton got into Celsius Academy, the lingering prestige of the Sheerloft name in the business world playing a huge role in it. As a parting gift and congratulations, Anton's father gave him his luck clay hunting sandals. His father rarely wore them unless he was in frantic need of finding a clay pit, which they had never failed to do for him in the past. However, with the business no longer active and Anton moving on the Celsius Academy, he believed the sandals were better off in Anton's possession. The teen had accepted them gratefully and promised to think of his family every time he wore them.

He arrived to Celsius Academy with a burning passion. A fresh start. A new look. A new him. A time to figure out what he truly wanted out of life. But, for now, he was--is--certain of one thing.

He and his loved ones will survive this war.

Theme Song - "Four" by Sleeping At Last

 
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Basic

Name - Bridget Theosia Krestlauv, aka Bri
Age - 16
Birthday - August 20, 1999
Gender - Female
Sexuality - Lesbian
Power - Electricity
Occupation - Student, Sophomore


School Information

Room Number - 3, Girls Dorm
Year - Sophomore
House - Terra
Electives - Healing and Sword Fighting
Clubs - School Paper, Photographer
Sports - Baseball, Right Field


Appearance

Hair - Short and wispy brunette hair styled into a sloppy pixie-cut. Nine times out of ten, her bangs are covering her eye, laying however they please against her forehead.
Eyes - A mesmerizing hue of ocean blue, yet Bri's eyes are dulled by a certain sadness lurking underneath.
Body - Standing at surprising height of 6'1" and weighing 155 lbs. Bri's form is rather lanky, but well supported with an athletic and chiseled figure. Her skin is an odd cross between soft and rough, especially with the burns marking her hands, though they healed over years ago. Faint scarring remained. She hides a peculiar scar on her upper thigh, which is composed of four lines running up to her hip.
Complexion - She's slightly tan from the frequent sun exposure, but is prone to paling quickly during the winter and fall seasons. Moles and beauty marks cover her entire body.
Dress - Her uniform is always worn properly and to perfection, not a single button left undone nor an inch of her collar or cuffs upturned. Her casual attire is usually a loose white top and soft peach shorts, accented by a pair of running sneakers. Sometimes she switches it out for over-sized t-shirts and jogging pants. No matter the outfit, the colors are rather harmonious and Bri feels most comfortable in this style.


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Extra - None

Persona

Personality - Initial impressions will lead everyone into believing that Bri is a very tranquil, monotonous, and centered soul. She only speaks when she's addressed and is more likely to savor sweet solitude rather than toss herself into the spotlight. She tends to disappear without word, especially if she feels that the world is baring down on her in an unwelcome manner. She does not mean to worry or offend others when she does this, but it's necessary for her emotional stability. To recuperate, she likes to find a comfy corner or nook of some sort, settle down into the lotus position, and meditate; such a session can last from five minutes to five hours. It all depends on the severity of her spiritual agitation.

However, Bri meditates for another reason. Finding her Zen and connection with nature around her helps to keep her impulses under control. Ever since she was an infant, she had a slew of impulses knocking at the back of her skull and begging to act. These actions are usually comprised of affectionate touches, invasion of another's personal space, fidgeting, and bursts of aggression. If Bri neglects her daily meditation, then she will gradually evolve into a different person full of zeal and empty of discipline. Once she treads into this half of her personality, it's hard to clamp down and return to normal. Not impossible, but difficult.

Likes - Meditation, incenses (particular lavender scent), soft material such as wool and cotton, touching things, comforting silence, philosophical conversations, literature, Walt Whitman, Ralph Waldo Emerson, and Herman Melville (her favorite poet, philosopher, and author).
Dislikes - Math (it's too objective for her tastes), not being in total control of herself, harming the environment, potatoes (any variation of it, whether it be french fries or scalloped potatoes...since she's allergic), Pepto Bismol (she's also allergic to it and hates the taste), and the smell of tobacco smoke.
Hobbies - Studying people from afar (people watching), reading and writing poetry, basking in the rain during thunderstorms, and blocking out the world with soft indie music.
Strengths - Calm and collected, reasonable, insightful and sensitive to other's emotions, surprisingly strong, English, and good memory.
Weakness - Becoming comfortable with others, speaks too vaguely sometimes/poor communication, refuses to depend on others, tends to follow logic over her own emotions, bottles up her emotions, and holds back her thoughts a lot.
Fears - Fire, hurting her friends or loved ones, losing control, disappointing others, and airplanes (hearing and riding them)
Ambition - To start a rehabilitation program and raise money for troubled youths, which includes elemental-users, normal children, and war victims.


History

“As for me, I am tormented with an everlasting itch for things remote. I love to sail forbidden seas, and land on barbarous coasts.” - Herman Melville, Moby Dick

Bri had battled a similar itch for as long as she could remember. She was a troubling child, full of so much energy and aggression that the Krestlauv's had no idea how to handle her. Her behavior was unpredictable and a new issue that the wealthy family had never seen before. It was unsightly and brought on a certain humiliation to their reputation. "Oh, have you heard about their youngest child? She's a complete nightmare!", "I've heard the little monster destroys her summer dresses and wallows in the mud. How uncouth.", "I bet she's actually a result of some affair. The Krestlauvs are full of scandals, I just know it." and several more rumors of similar nature spread throughout the community.

Bri's behavior worsened as she aged. On her twelfth birthday, she committed a mistake that lead to the death of more than just the Krestlauv's reputation. Instead of obeying her parents and remaining inside, as there was a thunderstorm unraveling, she stealthily crawled onto the roof through her bedroom window and sat there, gazing up at the darkening sky and eyes wide in wonder. She loved the sound of thunder and the brilliance of lightning. It was fleeting, but powerful, two things that she craved most of all. Something buzzed through her veins and roared in her ears like a familiar lullaby and like a moth to a flame, she couldn't help but reach out to the heavens, wishing to feel that unreachable freedom.

In the blink of an eye, the clouds roared and a bolt of lightning set her aflame like a beacon. There was no pain. No agonizing shock to her system. Only this electric buzzing that made her usual adrenaline rushes wither in comparison. It was sweet and addictive. The electricity danced about her skin like loving and wild caresses, rendering her speechless in a trance of liberation...It wasn't until she smelled smoke that reality crashed down around her.

The mansion was on fire. Her carelessness had ignited flames along the ceiling and was fed into by her elemental power until they grew to dangerous degrees. In the aftermath, she and her family managed to escape. However, all but one person survived and the damage dealt was irreparable. In the end, Bri's nanny perished in the fire, whom she was far closer to than her parents and viewed in a motherly light. The Krestlauvs were forced to move to a different neighborhood with the ghosts of their tragedy following their trail like a bloodhound. Their name was forever blemished and any resentment the family had towards Bri skyrocketed. She was shunned, hated, and barely acknowledged; they remained civil to her in the public eye, but that was where the amicable atmosphere stopped.

Despite all of the loathing piled onto her, Bri vowed to reform herself and never commit a mistake like that ever again. She took up meditation as the first step towards muting her impulses, which wasn't effective until a few months in. Initially, the silence and stillness ate away at her being, until she was clawing restlessly at her thighs. Once she had a firm grasp on how to find her center, the scratching was longer an issue and she found peace in the isolation that once pained her.

Once Bri was old enough (14), her parents were desperate to move her as far away from possible. To banish the demon child from their lives without wrecking their name in the process. Thus, they pulled strings to overlook the fire scandal and, with a hefty series of sympathy pleas, managed to enroll Bri into Celsius Academy. Her impressive grades helped to overshadow her behavioral complaints from past teachers, on top of her recently tamed personality and advocating around the community for environmental awareness.

She spent the first year at Celsius Academy on a low profile. The first semester was focused on her adapting to the new lifestyle and coming to terms with the fact that her family had literally dumped her. It was only the iota of prestige left in their reputation that prevented them from disowning her completely. It was during the second semester that the war struck. Filled to the brim with concern, Bri attempted to contact her family, but they never answered her calls. All she got in return were letters, very few, very vague and...off. No matter how much she pleaded for more information, her parents refused to relieve anything beyond monotonous and insignificant updates. Nothing about the war. Bri could only draw up one conclusion as to why they shut her off--another form of shunning. An indirect punishment. Of forcing her to wallow in her own concern and having no way out. Bri accepted this fate bitterly and tried to throw herself into clubs and sports as a distraction.

Now, at the beginning of her second year, Bri operates on pilot mode while internally gnawing on her nails. She's not entirely aimless in her existence, however, as she does have a dream to earn enough respect and money to start a rehabilitation program for troubled youths, elemental-users, citizens, and victims of the war alike.

Theme Song - "Bare" by WILDES

 
Name: Reginald Bullock

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Age: 20

Gender: Male

Appearance: Reggie stands at a height of 5'10" and weighs 175 lbs. He sports a very lean and athletic build with spiky ginger hair and dark brown eyes. He also has a tattooed quote resting just below his navel, which reads "I am enough". He usually dresses with an immaculate touch and prefers the colors of his outfit to be harmonious. Finally, he speaks in a thick British accent.

Paper Doll: Reggie's doll was crafted from the fabric of Reggie's ballet shoes, which are a solid velvet black. The material is a tad worn, but still in good condition because he strangely treasured the doll. It didn't share any care or affection for it, but an unwilling attachment.

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Personality: Reggie is that classic jerk in every modern situation.

His rudeness, manipulative nature, thirst to get people angry, and impishness makes him a perfect candidate for it. Nonetheless, he does have a life outside of making people miserable; his passions are dance and music, though he's not quite sure how he wants to implement those into his future.

Flirtatious and hot-headed are two more huge parts of his personality. He's like flipping a coin, you'll either be on the receiving end of his charm or scathing commentary. It's all up to chance and impulse, really.

His fears include feeling unwanted or worthless, abandonment, and being ignored.

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History: Reggie's birth was unplanned, especially since he was a result of rape.

Reggie's parents, Kendell and Raymond Bullock, struggled accepting Reggie's existence. There were several instances in which they considered abortion before his birth and more heinous acts after. However, Kendell couldn't find it within herself to end the child's life, despite Raymond constantly pushing for it. The situation grew worse as the years passed, as Reggie was practically the spitting image of Kendell's rapist even at an early age. His fiery locks, pale skin, brown eyes, and freckles were horrifically reminiscent of the trauma. As a result, Kendell made sure that he was physically healthy, but that was where the parenting ended.

Carrying the Bullock name meant preserving their prestige, so they couldn't afford to let this scandalous information leak out into the public. Reggie was banned from stepping outside of the house and had very minimal contact with others, starving the child of proper social skills and freedom. He grew to be a very unstable child, often flip-flopping from rude and aggressive to cold and judgmental. His only moment of peace was found in his private ballet lessons, though Raymond didn't particularly like it. Reggie interacted with Raymond more with Kendell, as the fear that shone in her eyes was too much for the boy to handle and irked him beyond compare. At the very least, Raymond's blatant dislike was honest and no matter the nature of the news, Reggie could comprehend it better.

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One day, the parents slipped and the news of their child started spreading whispers and rumors throughout Tophet. This eventually reaches the ears of press, who were ravenous to get their hands on such a ground-breaking story. Men and cameras were lurking around every corner and it reached the point of where Reggie could no longer step out of his own room. Kendell snapped under the pressure and attempted to smother Reggie in his sleep, but was stopped by Raymond, scolding her for pulling a reckless move. Killing Reggie would only worsen their reputation and feed into the newspaper.

That same night, Reggie tried to escape on a bus leaving Tophet. However, as he waited at the stop with nothing but his dance slippers in hand, a crew of reporters bombarded him, having followed the child from the Bullock household. Reggie fled on foot, the bus completely forgotten. Just as he lost the crowd by sprinting down a deserted back road, the headlights of a black GMC blinded him and there was a blow to the back of his head.

It was during those hellish two weeks that Reggie realized how great his memory was. Not a single instance of pain nor fear escaped his mind and every passing second made his innards grow colder with defeat. He was silent and complacent for most of his time in Diablo's capture and only managed to retain sanity because the tiny space was similar to being locked within his room. Aside from the voices of other children.

When Reggie was released, he was transported by car to a bus stop, ironically enough, and tossed out with nothing but a paper doll and the rags on his back. With no other option, Reggie boarded the bus and though his dirtied appearance earned plenty of concern from the driver and passengers alike, he ignored their questions. The ride lead him to New York, where he fended for himself in the streets for two years. However, he finally came across a saving grace in the form of Phil and Margaret Johnson, wealthy foster parents of Koda and Demi Locklear. They financially supported Reggie and gave him an apartment of his own, although they wanted him to live with the family; Reggie refused to lose the solitude he was so accustomed to.

He attended every single private dance lesson with Koda, bonding with the sweet boy more and more each day until he fell in love with him. They were best friends. And lovers by the age of 16. Midway the second year of them both attending NYU for Liberal Arts and Music (age 20), Koda broke up with Reggie and found love in someone else. Crushed, Reggie drunk himself into a raging stupor and attempted to set Koda's dorm on fire.

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Luckily, the fire was put out before anyone within the dorm building was in serious danger and Reggie didn't realize the error of his ways until the next morning. Full of remorse and confusion, Reggie packed his belongings and set off on the road back to where his identity was (hopefully) still an uncertainty.

Tophet.

Likes: Taunting, Memorization (Legit has the memory of an elephant--borderline photographic), Ballet and Contemporary dancing, and pushing people's buttons.

Dislikes: Awful at expressing his feelings, has no filter whatsoever, very rude and possessive, gets jealous a lot, and insecure.

Other: Has issues concentrating on one thing for extended periods of time (ironically enough, it's because he's caught up in counting things such as signs, the number of words on them, how many letters, how many lines make up each letter, how many syllables, etc. He could be anywhere from 200 to 2,000 before he finally breaks out of it).

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Theme Song:

 
Name: Kahlila "Kal" Frambrosia Johnson

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Age: 22

Gender: Female

Appearance: Kal stands at a height of 5'11" and weighs approximately 160 lbs. She sports a dark skin tone, hazel eyes, dark hair, and a very fit yet slim frame. She cares little about her style of dress, outside of always wearing denim jeans and keeping her arms exposed at all times (she's very hot-natured). Piercings line the entire shell of both ears, a combination of alternating loops and silver buds. She also has a tongue piercing.

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Paper Doll: Kal's doll was crafted from a sheet of paper in her journal, which have scribbled down and incomprehensible words on both sides of it. She kept it on her, but folded up as an origami swan. It helped distracting her from the fact that it came from such an awful period in her life.

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Personality: In all honesty, Kal is like a loyal puppy. Curious, excitable at times, loves to play-fight, loud, enjoys a good laugh, and will stick by her friend's side no matter the circumstance. Her ideology of loyalty and standing up for the "little guy" is unshakable, to the point of where she can get blinded by it every once in a blue moon. It would take the patience of a Saint to drill it through her head that a friend or loved one was in the wrong, but it's not impossible.

She also has a love for origami, chess, poetry and philosophy--all things that she tries not to flaunt. Besides, it rather annoys her with how much it surprises others, so she decides to keep her hobbies under wraps and divert the topic with humor. That would stem into an issue of hers, in which she rarely opens up about her own problems or any negative emotions, not wanting to waste anyone's time or "bum the vibe".

Finally, Kal's fears include being disliked/hated, Claustrophobia, Chiroptophobia (fear of bats), and the dark.

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History: Kal's parents Marquel and Nomi Jackson instantly knew quite early that she was a gifted child. Her attentive nature and constant thinking process lead her to thinking outside of the box on many occasions and drawing conclusions that many tended to overlook. She immediately started receiving private lessons from her tutor Mr. Grotski, who cared for Kal like she was his own child. She didn't receive much attention from her actual parents aside from the routine praise, but it was nothing terrible. Kal's favorite aspect about the lessons was the journal entries, in which she wrote whatever profound words or inspiration struck her throughout the day.

During a lesson, Mr. Grotski decided to take Kal out to get ice cream as a reward for scoring perfectly on a recent quiz. She was beyond ecstatic. However, the shop was rather busy and packed that day, along with the streets bustling of Tophet citizens. All it took was one minute of separation from Mr. Grotski before Kal was snagged up by men offering to help her find her teacher. She realized too late that they were lying and a rag was pressed to her face.

She woke up in Diablo's possession with nothing but fear and her journal. The two weeks were hellish, though she did what she could to find refuge in the other children. Faces and voices never really stuck, but their personalities always rang true in her memories to this day. One child was quiet, another loud and fitful, another cold and calculative, some in denial and a speck of light in the dark. They proved to be her only focal point in those dark times.

Diablo dropped Kal off in Tennessee, where she was adopted by a man named Bromy Antonio Johnson. Bromy was a well-renowned sci-fi and fantasy novelist along the east coast, though he did nothing much outside of that. His success allowed him to retire early at the age of 45, which was when he found Kal and took her in. He also took note of her gifted thinking and supported her love for poetry whole-heartedly. Kal was still in possession of the journal, though she avoided letting him read anything in it. Bromy understood and never pried.

Kal earned some recognition in the poetry world as she submitted and published her work into the occasional review or journal, until she was offered an overnight stay at a hotel near Tuckaleechee Caverns. The Editors had let her know ahead of time that the caverns would be open for exploration if any visitors wished and Kal couldn't find it within her curious nature to turn down the idea. However, the adventure swiftly turned into a catastrophe when she stumbled upon a restricted area of the caverns and agitated a swarm of bats. She was bitten twice and fell ill with a minor case of SARS (Severe Acute Respiratory Syndrome), along with falling and injuring her hip badly.

She made it out of the hospital with good and bad news.

The good news was that her SARS was a minor case, which was incredibly rare. All she had to do was take antibiotic treatment for a few months. On the downside, she developed a serious fear of bats and the dark.

The bad news developed from her hip injury. Although she recovered and was able to walk fine, she now had a peculiar limp. It took a few years of physical therapy for her to adapt to the change, but Bromy was there the entire time to help. After what happened, Kal felt a need to leave Tennessee for a while and clear the event from her head. Again, Bromy supported her. With final goodbyes, tears, hugs, and promises to call frequently, Kal set off for Tophet in hopes of a fresh start.

Likes: Origami, Chess, Philosophical conversations, poetry, cuddles and hugs, corny puns, and orange juice.

Dislikes: The dark, bats, tight and suffocating places, being still for too long, and people trying to pry into her emotions.

Other: Kal has a slight limp in her gait, though she's developed a certain way of walking that makes her seem informal but it's a way to hide it. Also, her shoes are specially made so that the right foot compensates for the slight lag. It becomes more apparent when she's tired and had been running/walking a long time, but even then she'll deny it and look at you like you've grown a second head.

Theme Song:

 
Name: Theona Rose Killigan

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Age: 21

Gender: Female

Appearance: Theona stands at a height of 5'6" and weighs approximately 155 lbs. Her build is nothing but anger, lean muscle, and sarcasm wrapped in scars from many fights. They're not terribly gruesome, just a few nicks and gashes that never healed over properly. A family of freckles cover her cheeks and stretch over the bridge of her nose, deceiving people into believing that she's harmless (no). She also sports big chocolate eyes and long hair of the same hue that cascades past her shoulders, which is pulled back into a tight ponytail. Her nails are usually painted black or peach at all times; depends on her mood, honestly.

Paper Doll: Theona's paper doll was cut from a piece of wall paper she tore off while throwing fits in Diablo's hiding place. There were specks of blood on it, whether it was hers, another child's, or a mixture of both is a mystery to this day, but they're now a rusted and faded dark maroon. Almost black.

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Personality: Theona doesn't tend to play well with others. Her temper is explosive and the triggers are difficult to narrow down; it could range from an off-hand comment on Wednesday to discovering a bird dropping on her precious bike. It varies. If you manage to piss her off, then prepare to throw some fists, and the fight will not stop until she wins. It's not to say that she's the strongest person in the world; she knows that there's always someone stronger. However, that doesn't discourage her from coming back until someone's flat on their ass.

Aside from her violent streak, Theona uses that "brute image" to her advantage and put off others from her analytical observation of people and events. She's a smooth liar and rarely tells the truth to people she doesn't trust, opting instead to see how they'll react to certain bits of information and stow the results away for later contemplation. She means nothing malicious by it, but her nasty paranoia and judgmental ways have been ingrained into her ever since she was kidnapped by Diablo. If one manages to get on her good side? Count yourself as extremely lucky.

Theona's hobbies include flirting, tearing up the streets with her bike, racing (legal or illegal, doesn't matter to her), writing, fist fights, and cooking. As far as fears go?

Like hell she would tell you.

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History: Theona can't recall a single thing pertaining to the day she was taken, and memories of being in Diablo's possession are murky. Which she is more than okay with; she's sure that if she dared recall the things that man had done to her, she'd destroy all and anything within her reach. The clearest thing she can recount is how much screaming and furious fighting she had done, and all of the punishments she received in retaliation.

Being quite an unpopular child among the batch, Diablo disposed of her at the doorstep of the crummiest orphanage he could find in Ruston, Louisiana. His decision-making skills proved to be efficient because Theona suffered from constant neglect. She was fed once a day (if she was lucky) and even then she turned it down out of rebellion and hatred. She was quite small for her age, which the older orphans took advantage of, ranging from beatings to verbal insults about her scrawny frame and freckles. However, Theona was never one to back down from a fight, resulting in her developing a tough skin and learning how to take a hit like it's child's play.

Her luck made a 180 once she was adopted at the age of 12. Her fathers, Dimitri Galloway and Hakeem Obasu were extremely patient and supportive of her, rather finding her fiery personality to be wonderful in a harsh world like this. And, sometimes, a little cute (but they never said that to her face). Dimitri worked a family-run restaurant, where Theona spent the day working and learning the ins and outs of gourmet cooking. She was never as magnificent as her Dad, but her skills were nothing to scoff at either. On the other hand, Hakeem worked as a mechanic. Theona loved her Papa's shop the most and enjoyed a simple night of chilling in his garage while watching him work, talking trash about their homophobic neighbor Johnny.

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Though Theona appreciated her Dad's work, she gravitated more towards her Papa's own and learned whatever she could about vehicles--motorcycles especially. On her 18th birthday, she was surprised with her very own bike, which she fondly named Fefe. However, her Papa claimed that she couldn't drive it until she got a motorcycle permit and helped him custom spray paint it. Theona agreed to these conditions, but her rebellious side prompted her to take the bike out for rides on nights when her parents came home late.

A few months in, Theona met Carlos. Just Carlos. He introduced her to the underground world of illegal racing, where he was referred to his nickname Torque. Before Theona knew what happened, she grew addicted to the rush and the money she won only made it worse. Whatever money she brought home was stashed away and saved up to help renovate her Dad's restaurant. There was the usual sore loser that pulled Theona into fights, though she ended them happily with a few bruises and cuts that makeup and a sweater could hide. However, one opponent she raced turned out to be the nephew of a dangerous criminal, who never appreciated losing money. Theona was accused of cheating, but she denied this and refused to give the money back. She went as far as to spit on the nephew's shoe.

A few days later, Theona and Dimitri received frightening news that Hakeem's shop was broken into and trashed. Nothing was left untouched. They found a note left behind, which promised the men of something much worse unless the money was returned and the "rat left town". Instead of taking it seriously, Theona's fathers dismissed it as the work of some young drunk hooligans and she couldn't bring herself to confess.

However, the situation became worse when gunshots were fired through the windows of Dimitri's restaurant. Two bullets were lodged into his shoulder but by pure luck, they missed vital organs. While recovering in the hospital, guilt swallowed Theona whole and she finally told her fathers the truth, understanding if they wanted to disown her for being so reckless and stupid. Their reactions were the opposite; they forgave her as long as she promised to no longer race and get herself involved with criminals, and requested protection from the authorities.

Later that day, Theona left the money in a case on her parents' bed, packed what she could, and left on her motorcycle. She'd rather live alone in a new city than put her family in danger. If she was going anywhere, it might as well be the place she was born.

Tophet.

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Likes: Her brother (sometimes), her bike Fefe, high-speeds and racing, watching sappy romance movies (tell anyone and she'll fucking kill you), cooking, and the occasional hot one-night stand.

Dislikes: Overly-timid individuals (she gets impatient with them), anything that blemishes Fefe, cold weather, the quiet, spiders, and cowards.

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Other: She'd like to think that she's happy being independent and free, but her obsession with the romance genre speaks volumes. We shall leave it at that.

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Name: Iris Gabrielle Du'Monte "Tater Tot"

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Age: 23

Gender: Female

Appearance: Iris stands at a height of 5'6" and weighs approximately 205 lbs. Her hair is usually seen as a long and cascading drape of curls. Her deep brown eyes meld well with her young face and innocent stare, though she's just as sarcastic as the next person and will verbally slay you until you're nothing but ashes on the ground. Her build is very husky and soft, to the point of where she would be the ultimate snuggle partner.

Personality: If Iris is one thing, she's everywhere. Her mind struggles to stay organized and set on one thing for too long because the energy within her is always threatening to overflow. Some days she's excitable, but most days she's anxious and assumes the worst. Never in people though. She'll always try to see the best in someone all while putting herself down for small things. On a good day, you'll 9 times out of 10 spot her going to town on a video game or spending hours at the studio getting some work done. The only time she's ever aggressive is if someone's self-esteem is being attacked; she'll literally see red and go off on her poor victim until she turns blue.

History: The Du'Monte's nowadays are a quiet family in Tophet and tend to avoid the press at all costs. They hate being needlessly dragged into the spotlight.

As far as connections with the city ran, the Du'Monte's first came to Tophet as a band of outcast performers and settled there in hopes of gaining attention. Their business didn't exactly boom when the tourist attractions came to Tophet, but it surely helped out their finances by a lot. However, time and societal pressures had weeded out the circus-like acts from the Du'Monte family. Their professions shifted to more reserved forms of entertainment such as music and dance, and even then they were private performances booked by wealthy employers.

Iris, on the other hand, loves drama. She had put on little shows and homemade plays for her family since the day she could walk and talk. The stage was her home. Her eccentric personality warded off most children, though she was best friends with one of the children who were taken by Diablo. She struggled to recover from the scare and loss, shutting others out and spiraling into episodes of depression, which the fed into self-hate for isolating herself. It turned into a viscous cycle.

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She struggled with anorexia until she was 19; her family encouraged her to pursue her passion for theater again and work at Tophet Theater. The experience proved to be a positive one for her, giving her a reason to care about herself again and numb a fraction of the pain she suffered from losing her best friend. She filled out and acquired a healthier diet in due time. Her dedication to the theatrical arts earned Iris a spot as Co-Director at Tophet Theater, where she helps to arrange musicals and playwrights.

Role in town: Co-Director at Tophet Theater

Likes: Drama, acting, Super Bear Hugs (special attack), impersonations (good and bad ones), video games, and sweets.

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Dislikes: Self-hate (when others show it), her body, dull colors, ducks and swans, asparagus, and boredom.

Other: If she doesn't get her way, she will literally cling to you like a koala with the heaviest pout on her face. Don't think she won't do it. She will. As for her anxieties, she has a good handling on them in comparison to the past when it used to be piled on top of her anorexia, but there are many nights in which she wished she had a comforting shoulder to replace the pills.

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Name: Garfield "Gar"

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Age: 31

Gender: Male

Appearance: Garfield stands at a height of 6'4" and weighs 235 lbs. He sports sharp blue eyes, grizzly thick eyebrows and a dirty blonde handle bar mustache-bead combo that runs down to his chest. His skin is somewhat leathery and tan from constant exposure to the sun and dirt. He only wears one outfit everyday, which is composed of a yellow and lime-knit cap, gray scarf, a thick coat swathed in holes and tears, a pair of stained blue jeans, and badly rundown mismatched boots (one beige and one black).

Personality: Garfield loves a good chat and some juicy gossip about the Tophet families. Since he doesn't own a TV, watching real life drama unfold poses as his number one source of entertainment. He'll often pretend to sip tea from a chipped mug (he carries it around in his tattered coat) whenever drama is going down. Despite his loud and aimless disposition, Gar is very observant and remembers a lot of things, so he has a tendency to scrape up dirt that could potentially ruin someone's reputation. He usually keeps the info to himself and instead feeds the public conspiracy theories. When he talks, half of the things spilling from his mouth are grunts and incomprehensible syllables brought on by what many people assume to be an early case of dementia. He could care less if others understood him though; as long as he could pitch his two cents, he was happy.

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History: Gar's origins are unknown and any history about him is incredibly hard to scrounge up. The only thing about his past that the man coherently expresses is that he's a descendant from one of the known families in Tophet. The wackjob hobo arrived to Tophet around a decade ago and he never once attempted to make a living for himself. He seemed content with being homeless and that never changed.

Some days, Gar is spotted sitting in the back rows of Tophet Theater and listening to performances contently with his pet ferret, Delilah.

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Role in town: Resident Crazy Homeless Coot

Likes: Beer, gossip, being nosy and loud, Delilah, randomly popping up out of nowhere, and opera music.

Dislikes: Cleanliness, the colors blue, orange, and pink, bright lights, and beef.

Other: He's a lunatic, but harmless and full of eccentric kindness.

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Name: Madhavaditya "Avan" Randhawa

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Age: 23

Gender: Male

Personality: Avan is quiet and reserved, to the point of where others mistaken his recluse ways for cold judgement. Of course, his thousand-yard stare and monotonous tone doesn't help. He is slow to reply to someone outside of his job, as he likes to articulate as few words as possible that best express how he's feeling. He has plenty of patience, but only expends it for people he cares about or of others that his gut senses receive "good vibes" from. Thus, his judgement of character rarely fails Avan and he will gladly sever all ties with you if you betray him. He does not give third chances. Ever. Second chances are sparse, but not impossible.

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History: Avan's life was rather simple and planned out since before the day of his birth. The Randhawa raised a long line of children that eventually worked in the medical field, often gearing them towards such a position through their environment and specified studies. The family comes with a mechanical and calculative touch, which contributes to a lack of warmth in the household. By no means are they incapable of love, but it's seem more as a necessary thing rather than a sentiment to be cherished.

Once Avan was born, he was put through the same "conditioning" as his siblings. Home-schooled, pampered, and given the best science and medical education his family could afford. He attended college to study Biochemistry and Medicine, while attempting to squeeze in a minor for Fine Arts. However, he had no choice but to drop it and focus on his majors. He graduated a year early at the age of 19 and now works at the Tophet Hospital as an assistant surgeon in the Trauma and Thoracic department. He dabbles in Neurological and Orthopedic department every now and then, but they're not his expertise.

All in all, Avan's life is quiet and everything his family hoped it would be. With a steady paying job and an apartment of his own, the man has been told that his life is a success. However, for as long as he could remember, he had suspicions that he was...different. He had raised the concern with his parents many times, but continue to vehemently deny that anything is wrong with him. He has attempted to diagnose himself many times, but his psychological studies and knowledge are limited. In due time, he gave up and learned to live with his quirks.

Role in town: Trauma/Thoracic Assistant Surgeon

Likes: Anatomy, Biochemistry, solitude and quiet, Comedy Specials (to laugh), spicy food, physical contact, coffee, and pointing out someone's positive qualities.

Dislikes: Loud noises and crowds, the cold/winter weather, alcohol, excessive chatter, and surprises.

Other: He doesn't smile around others. Ever.

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Theme Song
 
Jasmine Williams

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Appearance
5'6" and 135 lbs, tan skin, athletic and slim figure, hazel eyes, thick and wavy ringlets of hair falling to her mid-back

Age
20

Personality
Sarcasm, chill, packs a heavy punch (bit of a brawler), not a morning person, loves food (Chik-Fil-A especially), dancer (Hip Hop & Jazz)

History
N/A

Other

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≡Hello. I’m Hungry≡

⤑ Ozno McCarthy | ⤑ Venom | ⤑ 21 | ⤑ Blue​

APPEARANCE

⤑ Written Appearance

Very thick and solid build hidden under hoodies and sweatpants, with a mess of short ginger locks and ghostly pale skin. He has gentle yet exhausted green eyes and a loop piercing on his bottom lip.

⤑ Height | 5’11”
⤑ Weight | 195 lbs






BIO

Like most children, Ozno was home-schooled and lived a quiet childhood with his single father Raymond McCarthy. Raymond owned FTB (Florida Trusts Bank), which was earning lucrative income and placed them in a financially comfortable position. As for their home life, Ozno rarely heard from his mother after the divorce, though she did send in the occasional postcard and birthday letter. Aside from that, he saw her so infrequently that her visage is a blurry mental image to this very day.

However, art proved to be a wonderful escape for Ozno, especially painting and body art. He often drew on his own skin with ink pen and marker, which earned him the customary scolding from his father before having to wash them off. In the end, his talents were never recognized, thrown under the bus and labeled as "careless doodling". Instead, Raymond made Ozno focus on Business and Economics, as he was going to leave the family business in his hands once he turned 17.

When Ozno turned 13, he discovered his mutant abilities in a horrid way. He was home alone, playing with his pet dog, Doobie. However, after cuddling with the puppy for an hour or so, he realized that the canine's fur was slick with some odd substance and it had stopped breathing. In that moment, he had realized two things: one, his dog was on death's door and two, he couldn't call the ambulance or for help, as he wouldn't be able to explain the Doobie's condition unless he revealed he's a meta.

Left with no choice and a brain filled to the brim with panic, Ozno fled before his father came home and remained on the streets for a few months. It was an Archivist named Megan Piedmont that took him in; he lived in the attic of her shabby little tattoo parlor, which was simply dubbed the "Ink Shack". However, Megan was quick to recognize his artistic talents and took him under her wing as a tattoo artist.

All went well for four years. Ozno sharpened his skills with Megan's guidance and learned the ins and outs of tattoo art quickly. He took up a job at the "Ink Shack" about two years in and gained plenty of customers, who loved his grim yet cartoonish style. His work eventually earned him the nickname Ozzy Boy among the general customer pool and local area, his popularity steadily growing. It seemed that the fear he ran from was finally losing momentum.

Unfortunately, that hope was crushed to dust when thieves ransacked the "Ink Shack" in the dead of night. Before they could steal any money or harm Megan, Ozno poisoned both men with SUX, killing them. The ruckus was bound to draw attention and eventually R.I.E.F. investigation due to the thugs' mysterious asphyxiation; thus, Ozno was forced to flee once again at 17 and turn to Orlando's Rogue HQ for reprieve. He still keeps in contact with Megan, though those instances are few and very far in between.




STRENGTHS
+ Reliable
+ Patient
+ Swift/Agile


WEAKNESSES
_ Quiet/Reserved
_ Loves cartoons a little too much
_ Allergic to medication & natural remedies
_Animal Cruelty



POWER

⤑Type: Physical

⤑Brief description of abilities/skills: Numb Blood - Ozno’s bloodstream carries a toxin that blocks neurotransmitters between nerves in the neuromuscular system, thus paralyzing his opponents. Ninety percent of the toxins in his body produces a generally non-fatal paralysis, but he also has the ability to produce Succinylcholine (SUX), which shuts down every single muscle in the body, including ones used to breathe. As a result, his target dies slowly of asphyxia while conscious. He can eject these as liquid projectiles or ooze from his skin, which seeps into the target's bloodstream through their pores.

⤑Limitations: Of course, to produce the toxins, he needs a source to draw from. This comes in the form of his metabolism, as the energy needed for his system to produce toxins is hefty. This would explain his constant eating and eternal sluggishness. Thus, he needs to sleep at least twelve hours a day, along with consuming three square meals and snacks in between. Trying to produce toxins without energy will reduce Ozno to slurred speech, staggering, lightheadedness, and fainting.

 
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