Storage Thread for Whatever

RAIN.cloud

Never Ending Existential Crisis
Original poster
LURKER MEMBER
FOLKLORE MEMBER
Posting Speed
  1. Multiple posts per day
  2. 1-3 posts per day
  3. One post per day
  4. 1-3 posts per week
  5. One post per week
Writing Levels
  1. Intermediate
  2. Adept
  3. Advanced
Preferred Character Gender
  1. Male
  2. Transgender
  3. Primarily Prefer Male
Genres
slice of life, supernatural, modern, romance, mxm, fxf
View attachment 145678
Fullname: Hiat (no last name)


Nickname/Alias(if any): N/a


Age: 19


Status/Rank: Loner


Gender/Sex: Luna


Luna Body Type A or B: Type A


Sexual Orientation: Pansexual, preference towards male anatomy


Occupation(if any): theif


Human Form Description:

-Height: 4ft 11inch

-Eye color: large lime green eyes

-Hair color: sandy brown

-Complexion: smooth ocher

-Other descriptors: tattoo of the sun on his left bicep, crescent moon on his right hand and a small paw print on the side of his left buttock because he thought it was cute.


Hiat is petite in every way, although he carries more of a pear shape with round, supple hips and plush thighs. His upper body is small, with a flat stomach and a chest that bears somewhat embarrassingly small breasts; barely a B cup to be exact. His hair is soft and feathery, curling around his face in unruly twists and curves. A speckling of freckles are dusted over his cheeks, lips a peachy rose with a full shape.


Wendigo Form Description:

-Height: 5ft

-Eye color: silver

-Hair color: tawny

-Complexion: ocher

-Fur color and pattern:

-Other descriptors: tiny antlers, more like little nubs.


Scent (what do they smell like):
honey dew and fresh rain


Personality: Hiat is cute and he knows he is, using his child-like size to his advantage. He tends to be manipulative, but not in a malevolent way, usually used to get himself out of trouble he usually finds himself in. He's a flirt by nature and likes to test others limits.


Mate(s)(if any): none


Family(if any): Mother Katlyn and Father Darth are both deceased.


Allies(if any): none yet


Enemies(if any): none yet


Strengths: he's fast on his feet, can read people relatively well. Light fingers (aka pick pocket)


Weaknesses:

anything sweet. He likes sugar.


A little too confident on his looks. Relies on them to get him out of any and all trouble. So far it's worked though.


Small (large) fascination with humans. He tends to keep to his 'human' form more often than not out of habit.


History (can be short or highly detailed):

Hiat never belonged to a herd. His father was a loner and his mother left her herd to be with him. They lived alone, away from any herds and only close enough to humans to feed. When he was nine he lost both parents, something his mind had blocked from him. He doesn't remember much from the time before he was nine, living the last ten years on his own, floating from place to place on the money and clothes he's stolen and what food he can scrounge up. Usually it would be a rabbit or a bird, rarely he'd coax away a small human child, seeing as he looked more like them than the adults, to eat but tried not to as he would tend to feel guilty in the aftermath.

Poor baby Hiat
he's quite the.....case
To be honest he has no idea what a heat/rut is nor how it works, at least not to the level that other wendigo's know of it. He' was never taught as, when his parents died were murdered he was too young to know of such things as he had yet to reach puberty. Once he had, they came naturally, uncomfortably, and the first few times he honestly thought he was just sick or something, possibly dying. Now older, he'll to hide away from others, create nests of whatever soft materials he can manage to get, and pray no one finds him.

That doesn't mean he was never found, though those experiences never resulted in a mate. Thankfully they were rare and didn't result in fawns either.

The days leading to his heat, his attention dissolves and he finds it hard to focus. Scents, especially those of other stags and lunas, are more alluring, and if he's around one, may linger around them or even cling to them. This, considering his solitary nature, rarely happens, perhaps once before. Although now that he's in Elderwood with a bunch of wendi's perhaps will happen more often before he scuttles off and tries to hide himself away.

If he ever does find a mate, or at least a partner during his heat (this will taken an obnoxious amount of trust), he'll be quite clingy throughout, becoming a simpering, whining mess if said partner attempts to leave for more than about thirty seconds without taking him along. He will need educated on wendi reproduction and heats if said partnership continues cus little bean is clueless.

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Fullname: Wolfgang Adler



Nickname/Alias(if any): Wolf, Wolfie



Age: 23



Status/Rank: Delta



Gender/Sex: Male



Sexual Orientation: Pansexual; Joseop-sexual



Occupation(if any): None



Human Form Description:

-Height: 5’7”

-Eye color: Steel grey

-Hair color: white

-Complexion: smooth white skin, almost porcelain in color

-Other descriptors: he has a mole beneath his left eye. His tongue is pierced and he has his family crest tattooed onto the top of his left arm. Wolfgang is what humans would call, androgynous, hair cut in an asymmetrical bob that frames his soft features beautifully. He likes to wear some makeup, usually a smoked out winged eyeliner, mascara, and lip gloss that makes plush looks look more desirable than they already were. His figure is slim, lean muscle betraying his true strength. There is a slight curve to his hips, exaggerated by his usual stance of a popped hip and crossed arms.



Wendigo Form Description:

-Height: 6ft

-Eye color: clear sky blue

-Hair color: snow white

-Complexion: same as human

-Fur color and pattern: he is pure white with soft pinkish ears. His tail is soft and plush, fur covering his lower body, thinning up as it trails towards his belly button. He has small cuffs of white fur as well as a small mane beginning at the top of his sternum, growing thicker as it rims his neck.

-Other descriptors: He has no antlers but strong claws and a pair of rather long fangs on his top and bottom. He is not afraid to use them if you piss him off.



Scent (what do they smell like): Rainfall and pine is his natural scent, but it’s usually masked over with his favorite lavender body wash and the scent of his English Breakfast tea that he’s almost addicted to.



Personality: Wolfgang can be described as cantankerous and apathetic. Sarcasm is a way of life, and very little of what he says is ever devoid of its sharp bite. When he isn’t spewing sarcasm filled words at someone, he holds a placid look of uninterest on his face, grey eyes dull and unamused. He has a rather morbid, pessimistic outlook, finding the self-serving egoism of Bramblewood a sham that will one day be their undoing, and yes he makes this quite known to any Bramblewood member who honestly thinks their untouchable just because of a place their fleeting lives will reside for the time being.



Mate(s)(if any): none, has very little interest in taking one unless otherwise persuaded.



Family(if any): Mother: Alice Father: Samwell



Allies(if any): Joseop



Enemies(if any): No true enemies, though his pessimism and knack for telling off Bramblewood residents doesn’t leave him with many friends.



Strengths: Sarcasm, its his number one skill. Can cook but refuses to let anyone else aware of such a skill.



Weaknesses: Tea, Joseop, cats. He loves these three things and will show that rare, rare, raaaaaare sweet side of his.

hates dogs and they hate him.

allergic to poppy flowers.



History (can be short or highly detailed):
Wolf was born to an, unsurprisingly, affluent family. Then again, everyone in Bramblewood was affluent in some way or another. He was always quiet, a bit bookish as a youth, but he liked to keep to himself. He was far less active than the other children and he preferred his human form over his wendi transition. There was nothing against it, it was just a hastle to waste energy on switching back and forth, energy he could be using to learn. But all that learning only made him cynical. He saw his home through a lense most didn't. The way they lived, the way they saw themselves as superior, it was all just vanity in the highest form. They were no better than humans, than rats, than Elderwood, nor Dogwood. They were all creatures at the end of the day trying to survive.
He was rather cold and distant most of his life, staying to himself, to his books. His cynicsm made it more than hard to make friends, his ambiguous nature of dress even harder. Bramblewood was set in their ways, in how stags should act, how doe's and luna's should be have. Again Wolf thought it was a crock of shit, but learned early on that some things were better left unsaid. There was, though, one particular wendi that was never put off by Wolfgang's cantankerous nature. Josep was like a flea. A persistent little flea that never gave up until Wolf gave in. It had been a reluctant friendship at first, but one that the male wouldn't give up for the world now. (not that he would ever say so to the other.)

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Fullname: Yuyan Herrom



Nickname/Alias(if any): Yuyu; Herr



Age: 16



Status/Rank: N/A



Gender/Sex: Male



Sexual Orientation: Gay



Occupation(if any): None but in search of a job



Human Form Description:

-Height: 5’ 9”

-Eye color: Auburn

-Hair color: Died turquoise

-Complexion: Naturally has a soft tan

-Other descriptors: Yuyan is half Russian and half Mali (country in Africa) so his skin holds a natural tan shade, though his fathers extremely pale skin and his affinity for staying inside has left him on the paler side of the spectrum.



Scent (what do they smell like): Usually like Old Spice because that’s his favorite brand of deodorant and body wash. His natural smell is more a woodsy oak scent mixed with some natural spice.



Personality: Yuyan is a really friendly soul. He loves to read and write in his free time. He loves to meet new people, though, thanks to an accident as a child, he’s lost his ability to hear, that becomes a little difficult when it comes to the communication aspect of things. Even despite that, he keeps his demeanor bright and happy. He hasn’t given up on having a normal life even though he’s not exactly ‘normal’, at least compared to your average citizen.



He loves all things soft and fuzzy, often seen in overgrown sweaters with a scarf, especially in the colder months. He likes to roam the forest, though at his old home there was only a small thicket that is nothing like the forest of Elderwood.



Mate(s)(if any): none



Family(if any): Father: Anton Mother: Zaya



Allies(if any): none



Enemies(if any): none



Strengths:

  • cooking
  • writing
  • being optimistic
  • tea making


Weaknesses:

  • can be oblivious
  • verbal communication


History (can be short or highly detailed): Yuyan was bored to two loving parents, Anton and Zaya. When Yuyan was 4, he was in a car accident while his father was driving, the blow to his head when it slammed back into his seat, leaving a permanent ringing in his ears that blurred together all other noises leaving him legally deaf. He keeps earplugs in to block out the buzzing noises.



Six months ago, the deaf boy was almost in a second accident, not having heard the approaching vehicle to his back. It terrified his parents leading them to pack up and move to a ‘small quiet town where he wouldn’t have to worry about such dangers’ or so they claimed. Yuyan only huffed and accepted his fate knowing that his parents weren’t about to change his mind.

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Fullname: Seymour Henya Grove


Nickname/Alias(if any): Sey, YaYa


Age: 20


Status/Rank: Loner


Gender/Sex: Luna


Luna Body Type A or B: Type A


Sexual Orientation: Likes anyone with a penis


Occupation(if any): singer (though they perform in the city and its not a full time position)


Human Form Description:

-Height: 5ft 5in

-Eye color: Forest green

-Hair color: roots black and fades to a deep green

-Complexion: ivory with a hint of a tan

-Other descriptors:
Always seen wearing that black choker with a red pendant



Wendigo Form Description:

-Height: 5ft 9 in

-Eye color: forest green

-Hair color: dark brown/black with a green tinge

-Complexion: same as when they're human

-Fur color and pattern: Seymour's fur is rather thin, fading in low around their hips, becoming fuller down their legs until it meets hooved feet. There's a light trail towards their navel, though it's more peach fuzz than actual fur. Other than that he's pretty hairless naturally, though they do a little up keep to keep it just how they like it.

-Other descriptors:
contantly wears black choker with red pendant
yes his claws are painted just like their fingernails

Scent (what do they smell like):
Seymour smells like forest trees with a slight hint of warm pinecone


Personality:
Seymour has a rather dry personality. Born and raised in Bramblewood, they were never treated all that fairly in the herd, but their parents were sure to not let it get to him. Described as cold and aloof, it's rather fitting to the cocky thing of a luna that had no issue with stepping in when they think it's needed. Always an advocate for the voiceless, Bramble's lack of respect for women and Luna's, perpetrated by a notorious group led by that cocky little bi-....that boy Adonis, Seymour has no issue with halting whatever they deem disrespectful. Loud mouthed and not afraid of confrontation, Seymour can really be a force to mess with.

Mate(s)(if any):
None

Family(if any):
Mother (doe)
Father (stag)

Allies(if any):
Wolfgang Adler

Enemies(if any):
Adonis and company aka Those stupid pricks over there

Strengths:
  • Sass
  • Sarcasm
  • Speed
  • a mean ass left hook

Weaknesses:
  • Genuine care
  • Romance
  • Cuddles
  • Sweet talk


History (can be short or highly detailed):



 
  • Love
Reactions: Navuso
  • Love
Reactions: Navuso
NPC
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Laiza
Luna type B
Younger brother to Seymour
15

^gonna learn how to code this one day
maybe
pfft
 
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[/img]

Father | Age | Race | Ethnicity​
 
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Mother | Age | Ethnicity | Human​
I JUST WANT SQUARES OMG
 
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  • Google fonts work, too


  • Even script!


^base code from thread

Wordy wordy word
worrrrrds
 
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  • None yet
  •  

  • [ ~ Pain Is Just A State Of Mind ~ ]
    full

    Name:

    His full name is Watson Hill Greyson, but Wat, or Watson is fine.

    Age:
    Born April 3, Watson is two days shy from being a joke. Just turned 15 he's about average for his grade.

    Height & Weight:
    Watson is rather small, at least shorter than the average male, standing at 5 ft 4in. Thanks to his home life, he's rather scrawny as well, a meager 100 lbs with very little body fat keeps his form slim and almost bony.

    Appearance:
    Sandy brown hair with dull brown eyes. His skin is pale and usually sporting a few scrapes and bruises.

    Grade/Teaches Grade:
    10th

    Clubs/Coaches Club:
    n/a

    Sexuality:
    never thought about it

    Position:
    Bottom; possibly switch but only for a dominant bottom

    Personality:

    Watson is relatively quiet in large crowds, hunched down and fiddling with the bandaids on his fingers. He'll nibble at them out of habit as nervous eyes flitter this way and that. He's jumpy and rather easily startled by harsh noises, very much like a rabbit. He has several insecurities, most of which surrounding his meek little frame and frail arms. So when he does make a friend, one that looks past his strange nervous habits and lanky form, he latches on to an almost obsessive degree. That's his biggest fault, he thinks, his need for someone else, but he can't help it. Much like a bee to honey, or a moth to a flame, Watson is drawn in and hovers. Some say a lost puppy, others a starved wolf. Due to this, he had a penchant for following his friends, whether they know it or not, well, that's another story entirely.

    Bio:
    Watson was born in a regular neighborhood, in a regular town, to regular parents. They were bland, he was bland, their life was bland. He went to school, came home, did his homework, and then played outside. He was your normal, run of the mill child....until his mother got pregnant when he was six. By the time he was seven, his brother was born, kicking and screaming and wrecking the silence of their little bland life. Day in and day out his ears rung with the rattling cries of his baby brother. Confused, he would peer into the babies room through a crack in the door, watch his parents try to soothe the infant in vain only for the adults to dissolve into angry tears and howling screeches at the infant that wouldn't, 'SHUT THE FUCK UP'.

    Relationships:
    At the current moment, Watson has no relationships, not real one's anyways. He has people that are nice to him, people he considers friends. In reality, they're nothing more than those that pity him, offering him a kind smile and a wave whenever they make eye contact. Still, it means the world to him and he counts every one as a friend.

    Likes:
    cuddles | candy | soft things | being at school | drawing | cooking | pain | blood

    Dislikes:
    his home | his father | petrified the dark | being yelled at | violence | anger

    Kinks:
    pain | choking | hair pulling | general masochistic tendencies | praise | attention | love (fake or real) | slow and sweet | praise | kissing

    No-Goes:
    No bodily fluid/excretions other than blood. There is absolutely no non-con sex. You can beg all you want, it's not happening. dub con can be discussed but don't get your hopes up.

    (Yes or No category)
    Can They Be Bullied: yes

    Will They Bully:
    Watson isn't intimidating nor loud enough to bully someone. It would be quite sad if he tried really.

    Can They Be Raped:
    As stated above, I do not engage in non-con under any circumstances.

    Will They Rape:
    As stated above, I do not engage in non-con under any circumstances.

    Can They Be Abused:
    You can try, but don't expect him to hate it. He might laugh with joy honestly.

    Will They Be Abusive:
    Being an almost chronically obsessive masochist, causing pain to others does nothing for him. He'd much rather it be done to him.





      • Quiet
      • Loner
      • Loyal
      • Not shy but not talkative
      • Has a strong oral fixation (will always have something in his mouth
      • Occasional sarcastic quip

    Bio:

    Relationships:
    His brother

    Likes:


      • smoking
      • sleeping
      • reading
      • drawing
      • soft things
      • the occasional Vicadin
      • warm things
      • his brother
      • piercings
      • tattoos

    Dislikes:


      • alcohol
      • non-mellow people
      • rough things
      • yelling
      • being sick
      • the color yellow
      • your face
      • strangers
      • being touched without permission
      • anyone who isn't his brother because their lame

    Kinks:


      • praise
      • rough
      • dirty talk
      • oral (giving)
      • tongue pierings
      • piercings in general
      • tattoos (insta-swoon)
      • brunettes

    No-Goes: any bodily fluid other than blood

    (Yes or No category)
    Can They Be Bullied: yes
    Will They Bully: no
    Can They Be Raped: no
    Will They Rape: no
    Can They Be Abused: yes but you'll have an angry midget on your hands
    Will They Be Abusive:no



      • Harsh
      • Blunt
      • Sarcastic
      • Only speaks if he thinks you're worth his time (so not much)
      • Loyal to his brother
      • Protective
      • Can be violent
      • Manipulative to his brother

    Bio:

    Relationships:
    Brother

    Likes:
    Dislikes:
    Kinks:
    No-Goes:
    Other:
    (Yes or No category)
    Can They Be Bullied: you can try
    Will They Bully: perhaps
    Can They Be Raped: no
    Will They Rape: no
    Can They Be Abused: no
    Will They Be Abusive: maybe






WIP
 
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[color=d7dbdb]G H O S T​[/color]
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Name: Angelina Masrique
Age: 19
Gender: Female
Class: Loner
Occupation: N/A
Personality: Angelina, a.k.a. Ghost, doesn't mix well with others. She has a very dark view on things and prefers being alone to being in a group. She doesn't believe in any 'cause' or higher purpose. She doesn't believe that
this was to 'purge' the earth either. All Ghost cares about is survival, so don't get in her way.
Background: Ghost was born, Angelina Masrique, to a loving mother and father. She had an older brother that doted on her, but they weren't exactly your every day family. You see, Angelina's father, Edward, was convinced the
world would end some day, that the worlds natural resources would run out. He wasn't wrong, then again, no one could have ever imagined it could possibly happen. So he prepped, and so did his family. Angelina was
taught, beginning at the age of four, everything a person could know about surviving on your own. How to purify your own water from a river or rain water, how to scavenge and which fruits were non-lethal, how to
build
your own shelter, start a fire, first aid. Anything and everything one needed to know to survive and to protect oneself. Hand-to-hand combat was another thing Edward was enthralled with teaching. People were
dangerous creatures when they were hungry, tired, scared. They turn into beasts and if you couldn't protect yourself, you were a sitting duck.

For the longest time Angelina resented her father. She just wanted to be normal, be like the other kids at school. That was nearly impossible when, instead of going to cheer practice after school, Angelina was thrown
into the middle of the woods and told to make her way back home, always a different place than the last, further, darker, harder.

No one ever believed these skills were useful, no one except Edward. He had a bunker being built, a bunker that everyone and their mother rushed to when the world began to fall. He had food to last the family at least
ten years, with rationing, running water and air filtration. It had taken years to build, but he did it. Edward made the safest place in America, but not even a doomsday prepper could be ready for the world to fall.

Virginia, her mother, and Dante, Angelina's brother, were out when it happened. When the world's reports on the severity of the situation were proven false. She wanted to go out, to find them, save them. Edward,
instead, dragged himself and his daughter into the underground bunker, locking the outside world away.

Hate.

That's what Angelina felt for the man she called her father. Never before had she abhorred someones existence so strongly. They didn't speak, not even at dinner when the microwavable dishes were brought back to
life with a little bit of water and heat. For four years the two didn't speak much, unless necessary. It was taking its toll on the older man, but Angelina couldn't forgive him for what he did. So she left. She had sat around
long enough. He'd taught her how to survive out there on her own, so she decided to put them to good use. She couldn't sit around with him, with his cowardice any longer.

He begged her to stay, the bunker was safe, stable. It had food, water, light, everything a person could want in a time like this. But she couldn't. Angelina couldn't live with him, like this, any longer, with a man who let
her mother and brother die without even trying to save him. So, she left, to fight through this mess of a world on her own. Angelina was on her third year now, and well, things could always be worse.
Goal: Survive
Equipment: Survival pack, first aid kit, 2 hunting knives, swiss army knife, bow and arrows, and 2 9mm handguns
Weapons: Bow + Arrow [Specialized]; Gun [Secondary], Knife [Secondary]
Skills: Survival [Expert], Hand-to-hand combat [Advanced], Hunting; Bow + Arrow [Advanced], First Aid [Adept], Firearms [Adept],
Miscellaneous:
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Family:
Mother- Virginia - Assumed Deceased [X]
Father - Edward - Alive [O]
Brother - Dante - Assumed Deceased [X]

[/O]​
[O][/color]


[color=d7dbdb]A N T O N I O​[/color]
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Name: Antonio Lang
Age: 27
Gender: Male
Class: Greaser
Occupation: Sentry
Personality: To put it simply, Antonio is one cocky bastard. He flirts with anything with a hole in it, at least, that's what his friends say about him. He's your stereotypical 'casanova' type. He likes to woo both women and men alike
with a charming smile and sweet words. He's had more people in his bed than he probably should have considering the state of the world, but hey, we all got needs right? Antonio also has the tendency to say the first
thing that comes to mind, which has gotten him into quite a few skirmishes. Despite his cocky asshole demeanor, he's not all that bad. He truly believes that the world will be okay, maybe not in his lifetime, but one day.
He's a loyal son of a bitch once you win him over too, and he never has, nor will he ever, leave someone behind.
Background: Antonio was adopted at age eight by Karissa and Martin. They were a happy family, really close and they showered him with all of the love that parents could possibly give their children. It was with the pregnancy of his younger sister Shyanne, when Antonio was eleven, that things changed. No one could have seen it coming, the complications during the birth just kept coming. First they found that Karissa had preeclampsia, then the umbilical cord was wrapped around Shyanne's neck, then she needed a C-section, then...then...then. Needless to say, Karissa didn't make it. Perhaps that was a blessing in disguise. She didn't have to see the world fall apart. Karissa didn't have to see her family abscond to the closest Safety Shelter just to find that it was 'too full'. They weren't sure if that was a crock of shit or not, but the family of three were left to wander on their own.

Antonio was seventeen by then, tasked with finding food for his six year old sister and aging father. It was during scavenging that he found the Greaser camp. They called themselves Vipers, pretty badass sounding to a seventeen year old. They took the family in, clothed them, fed them, and taught Antonio how to fight. It had been ten years since then and Antonio, Martin, and his sister Shyanne still stayed within the, somewhat, safe walls of the Vipers camp.
Goal: Kill as many Lurkers as possible; Return the earth back to what it was.
Equipment: binoculars, water canteen, whistle, swiss army knife
Weapons: sniper rifle, 2 handguns, hunting knife
Skills: Sniper [Expert]; Hand-to-Hand [Advanced]; Knives [Adept]; Survival [Adept]; Cooking [Novice]; First Aid [Novice]
Miscellaneous:
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Family:
Mother - Karissa - Deceased [X]
Father - Martin - Alive [X]
Sister - Shyanne - Alive [O]
[/O]​
[O][/color][/o][/o]
 

Z O N E B A R C H I V E S

[color=742046]☣[/color]


[color=d7dbdb]J A N U A R Y 2 0 2 9​
F O R E C A S T : DAY - 55° CONSIDERABLE CLOUDINESS | West Wind 10 MPH ; MORNING - 34° MAINLY CLOUDY | Northwest Wind 5 MPH​[/color]​

Sunday was Distribution Day for Raleigh, North Carolina’s Safety Shelter. Lines would wrap around the building, spilling through the streets as mothers, fathers, daughters, sons, and many many more waited for their biweekly rationing for food and supplies. Water, soap, bread, and ham. Those were some of the things that were handed out today for those lucky enough to get to the distribution center before they ‘ran out,’ or so they claimed. Some believed they had plenty, more than enough really. They believed that the higher ups, those who ran the shelter were greedy, kept extras for themselves. There was no proof, of course, and without proof there could be no action. The vast majority were too timid, too complacent. They feared upsetting those in charge. They were struggling enough in the shelters as it was. They couldn't afford to seriously upset the power. It was certain death to do such things.

A thin woman with dirty, blonde hair opened the distribution center early that morning. Her eyes were sunken into her leathery skin. They were a dull and watery blue color, just as eerie as the crowded city in which she lived. Her ragged shirt had an old name tag pinned to it, a lasting vestige of her old life before the downfall of humanity. Amanda was her name. A plain name for a plain girl, or at least she used to be.

Amanda used to be pretty. She used be to a healthy size with healthy sky blue eyes. Amanda used to be a lot of things, but fuck, so did everyone else. Everyone had a past out here--ones they’d rather soon forget. It was no use clinging to the past, now. Those lives had long since been removed from them. They would never return, and Amanda would never be the woman she used to be. No. Never. She was just a fucking skeletal woman who did nothing more than hand out dried loaves of bread with shit ham, cheese, one bar of soap, and toothpaste. That's who she was, now. That's who she would be until her last day. She had come to accept that. So, just like every other Goddamned Sunday, here she was -- counting the inventory that never matched the number of citizens in the shelter. She quit taking note of that little side fact, though. There was no use. All she knew was, she was Amanda, and she’d be getting her share -- so long as her sundried hands continued distributing those poorly packaged goods every Sunday at dawn.

The line was long, as usual, and the early morning chill was clinging to the patrons’ bones. Some were tall, and others were young. Some still had a few extra pounds hanging around their stomach and thighs, begging the question as to how they were so well fed. No one cared to ask though. It was too much work and not enough payoff. They were content in this line, following along like blind sheep. Go to the window; show their ID badge; receive their supplies. It was a monotonous task that took little to no thinking. It was just a long Sunday line that shuffled on and on as hours passed.

There was no break as the sun rose higher and higher. The morning chill eventually gave way to the swell of the afternoon heat. Yet even then, as the sun beat on the weakened backs of the poor people crouched, sore feet in line -- dried out dehydrated skin -- these sheep did not waver. They continued their slow patronage forward. They took what the government, or what was left of it, allotted to them and moved on through their drowsy unassuming lives. It was an existence that most most were content to live. It was the only existence they could imagine. But for some, it was different.

They were known as the troublemakers. They were the ones who the ones in charge kept a keen eye on. The troublemakers were the first to go after the sickly. No one knew it, not really. One day a neighbor would glance his way in the morning; a silent nod in greeting; and the next they -- he was gone; vanished -- he had disappeared. No one really paid attention, though, because no one really cared. Their numbers were too high, and the food was too little. They didn't need criminals scavenging their food supply and giving it to unworthy beings. So, the government cleansed without any rebellion to follow. They processed these troublemakers -- criminals -- and sentenced them to banishment. And, just like that, no one batted an eye. They weren't good people. They lied. They cheated. They stole. So, who cared?

[color=d7dbdb]A N T O N I O​[/color]​

The sun was hot as it glared down onto what was left of the earth. It bleached the ground, burning whatever exposed flesh anyone dared to show, and dried many a river that once flowed through this land. The sun was high in the sky by now as brown eyes narrowed through the scope of a military grade rifle. A scavenged, aka stolen, gun from a Safety patrol cargo van a few years back. It was a lot better than the hunk of crap he had before that. Just a piece of junk he’d found when he was fleeing from the cities. The hordes there were massive, coming in packs now. The more in the area, it was like they could sniff each other out. The linked up, growing bigger and bigger until there were masses of them stalking the streets. Needless to say he got his ass the hell up out of there.
Antonio’s body was tense in the high heat of mid-afternoon, scoping out the miles of landscape ahead of them. Nothing was out there. Then again, nothing ever was. The asian man rolled his shoulders with a heavy sigh as he leaned back. The muscles were tense, aching with the position he sat in; squatted with hands wrapped around the rifle, ready to pull the trigger at any given moment. Sweat dripped down his brow, stinging his eyes. He wiped it with the back of his hand, cursing the heat. God he hated this post on days like this. Out in the hot son, boiling in his black uniform, it was like they were trying to give him a heat stroke or something. Perhaps they were trying to quietly thin their numbers under the pretense of natural causes. It might just work.

“Sneaky bastards,” Antonio huffed in sarcastic amusement. It would take a lot more than a hot uniform to off him. Fingers wrapped around his water bottle, more of a tin can really with a rubber stopper at the top. It was completely homemade and crude. He tugged the rubber plug out, chugging down big gulps of the precious liquid before capping it and setting it down again. Brown eyes squinted out over the landscape, watching as the wind blew across, scattering the ever thinning grass. There was no refuge in the wind either, just as hot as the air laying still around him now. “Fucking great,” he grunted, shifting his position and holding the sniper rifle steady as he scoped the land.

“Yo, asshole!” A voice called down from below him. Antonio promptly ignored it, less than happy with being spoken to. He wasn’t antisocial by any means, but unless it was a command to get out of this god awful son he wanted no parts of it.

“Hey! Dickwad, I’m talkin’ to ya!” The rough voice called again.

“The fuck do you want, Flannigan!” Antonio yelled back, jerking away from the gun and leaning over the metal railing that was a safeguard to keep him from tripping and splattering to an untimely death.

“Watch yer language! Fuck man!” Flannigan shot back, an old greaser with more than a few missing teeth and every present smudge marks littering leathery tanned cheeks. He was a tinker. He messed with all sorts of machines and guns, and when they could salvage them, even vans and cars. He got Safety shelter equipment to suit their unique greaser needs. How great amiright? “You gotta mission er sumthin’” his aged voice barked back. “They want yer ass in the meetin’ now,” he spoke up, one greased up hand covering his eyes from the harsh sun, or at least attempting to.

“Alright, Alright,” Antonio grunted, hopping over the guardrail, booted feet catching on the ladder. He climbed down from his post, dropping to the hard ground when he was just a few feet away. He nodded to the tinker and wandered off to where he was needed.

“This better be good,” he grumbled under his breath with a soft sight.

[color=d7dbdb]G H O S T​[/color]​

Feet stepped carefully through the forest; muscles tensed as she crept. Her breathing was slow and shallow, silent to remain undetected. Brown eyes scanned the ground before her. Deer tracked led her to the left, feet creeping her hunched form along. Her heart beat steadily in her chest. The adrenaline from hunting coursed through her veins, keeping her alert, tense. She spotted the buck not too far off, grazing with its family; a doe and two fawn. She knelt down beneath the brush, reaching back. Her fingers grazed her arrows, plucking one from the pack on her back. She strung it with ease, pulling the string back until it was taught. Her aim was impeccable, mastered through years of her father’s obsessive training. Where the man was now she didn’t know nor did she care.

The string snapped and the arrow flew across the clearing, sinking into the beast's heart with practiced ease. The buck crumpled to the ground, its family rushing off to find safety. She rose then, thin body athletically muscled as she stepped through the forest. She didn’t try and be so silent now as she yanked the arrow from the now dead carcass and slipped it back into her pack. Slinging the bow over her shoulder, she grabbed the deer by its horned and dragged its body back to her camp. This would last her a few days.

She dropped its lifeless body down, tossing her bow and pack of arrows to the side as she grabbed her switchblade from her pocket. It was time to get to work. She knelt down beside the beast, stabbing it right between the legs, cutting down its belly. Its innards spilled out, blood coating the ground. She yanked out its organs and skinned the deer. The pelt would make a nice blanket for next winter and the meat would be dried and salted to last her a while. The bones would be carved for spoons and forks. The innards she left for whatever animals were around to scavenge it. She didn’t stay in one place for long, packing away her things and moving camp. She walked miles, sure to cover her tracks. She didn’t like being found. She didn’t like people. They were troublesome, loud, and reckless. She was no one’s babysitter.

Finding new ground, she set up a new camp, just to the side of a large oak tree where it would be hard to be seen. The tent was pitched and the skin was pulled taught between sticks as a fire was made to keep her warm. The meat was stuck to a stick and held over open flame, the light flickering in her empty eyes. It was all about survival. There were no friends, no enemies, just those who got in the way. She had no loyalties, not ties to anyone and she liked it that way. It was easier. She hunted, she ate, she cleaned, and she moved. That was the way that she lived, that would be the way that she died. She had found peace with that the moment she left that mans prison. That man who let her mother and brother die. He hadn’t even tried to save them, tried to go out and look for them once things calmed down. He condemned them to death without a second thought and for that she could never, and would never, forgive him.
 

  • Zeke's Family

    .
    .
    .
    .


    Mother - Gone | Brother - 6 | Sister - 12 | Father - 37


    Tanner’s Family

    .
    .


    Mother - Megara - 42 | Mother - Rosalie - 45


    Aaron/Anthony's Family

    .
    .
    .


    Mother - deceased | Father - deceased | Aunt - 29



    Watson's Family

    .
    .
    .


    Mother - 38 | Father - Gone | Brother - deceased


  • [ ~ Pain Is Just A State Of Mind ~ ]


    full



    Name:


    His full name is Watson Hill Greyson, but Wat, or Watson is fine



    Age:


    Born April 3, Watson is two days shy from being a joke. Just turned 15 he's about average for his grade



    Height & Weight:


    Watson is rather small, at least shorter than the average male, standing at 5 ft 4in. Thanks to his home life, he's rather scrawny as well, a meager 100 lbs with very little body fat keeps his form slim and almost bony.



    Ethnicity:


    Watson is full blooded Irish, on both sides, though there's no doubt a few hidden other European ethnicities littered in there. No one is really ever, solely one ethnicity now are they.



    Appearance:


    Watson had brilliant red hair, naturally. It's a fiery orange that grows haphazardly around his face. A few strands often fall into his deep forest green eyes. Eyes that are usually lined red on pale, freckled cheeks. He's your stereotypical 'ginger' boy really. His body is thin, almost unhealthily so as he borders on malnutrition. His pale flesh is always sporting some new kind of bump, scrape or bruise, all of which he can be found fiddling with at some point or another



    Grade:


    10th



    Clubs:


    At the current moment, Watson isn't in any clubs. He finds them interesting, often lingering after school and staring at the flyers, but he knows it's not within his reach. He has to hurry home if he doesn't want to upset his mother.



    Sexuality:


    Thanks to his rather odd behavior, most of the student body avoids him. If they aren't avoiding him, they aren't talking to him either, and Watson is known for his penchant for sitting in a corner silently. No one really knows if he enjoys the solitude or if it's just a symptom of his shyness. So far no one has gone out to explore it. And so, without any friends, there's been no exploration, with either gender. As of right now, Watson is undecided



    Position:


    Never having had a partner, Watson doesn't have a set position, though his personality leans him towards a submissive partner, easily bending to the will of whoever he is with. Whatever they need him to be, he'll become.



    Personality:


    Watson is relatively quiet in large crowds, hunched down and fiddling with the bandaids on his fingers. He'll nibble at them out of habit as nervous eyes flitter this way and that. He's jumpy and rather easily startled by harsh noises, very much like a rabbit. He has several insecurities, most of which surrounding his meek little frame and frail arms. So when he does make a friend, one that looks past his strange nervous habits and lanky form, he latches on to an almost obsessive degree. That's his biggest fault, he thinks, his need for someone else, but he can't help it. Much like a bee to honey, or a moth to a flame, Watson is drawn in and hovers. Some say a lost puppy, others a starved wolf. Due to this, he had a penchant for following his friends, whether they know it or not, well, that's another story entirely.



    Bio:


    TRIGGER WARNING: Infanticide; Child Abuse; Mental Illness; Self-harm.



    Watson was born in a regular neighborhood, in a regular town, to regular parents. They were bland, he was bland, their life was bland. He went to school, came home, did his homework, and then played outside. He was your normal, run of the mill child....until his mother got pregnant when he was six. By the time he was seven, his brother was born, kicking and screaming and wrecking the silence of their little bland life. Day in and day out his ears rung with the rattling cries of his baby brother. Confused, he would peer into the babies room through a crack in the door, watch his parents try to soothe the infant in vain only for the adults to dissolve into angry tears and howling screeches at the infant that wouldn't, 'SHUT THE FUCK UP'.

    He didn't understand why his mother was so angry, why his father became a recluse, but he did know, that one day, the baby had stopped crying. He came home after school one day, the house an eery quiet. It didn't feel natural and he remembers being so scared he almost wet himself. He shuffled towards the babies room, watched as his mother rocked the boy to 'sleep'. When he ventured inside, he tip-toed towards the woman, and found his baby brother, blue in the face. He was dead, hair still wet, towel wrapped around him as his mother smiled as if everything was as it should be. Tears shined in her eyes as she looked up and found her eldest. The woman beamed, reaching out and ruffling wild orange hair. "He's sleeping now," she cooed softly, bringing her finger back to press against her lips and offer a hushed, "Shhh." When he was younger, he didn't understand it, what his mother had done, but now he knew. He knew she killed him. It was called Post-Partum Depression, or something, and hers was...to the extreme he supposed.


    Watson's mother was never the same after that. Her mind never...pieced itself back together. She was easily frustrated, often fighting with her husband, leaving Watson to cower in his room for hours. She wouldn't feed him, or at least, she would forget to, crippled by the crime that she had committed, lost in her own thoughts as she let herself waste away in her room for how ever many days. She was sick, anyone with eyes could see it, but everyone said, "Oh she'll get over it," or "It'll pass. It'll pass," with a dismissive tone and little empathy. Only, it....didn't pass. In fact, it got worse, morphed and twisted into something...dangerous.


    Watson never knew what he would come home to, eery silence or angry screeching as projectiles were flung at his father. Eventually the man couldn't take it, the anger, the violence, the neuroticism. He left, without a word, without a trace. He didn't even say goodbye to his son of only nine years old. He was just....gone. Was that when Watson broke? Perhaps, or maybe that was just when it began. Not too long after his father had vanished, his mother needed a new target for her projected anger, her self-loathing and blame. Without anyone else, there was only Watson, and soon he knew the anger she felt inside as her fists slammed into his young, frail body. Her voice rung in his ears so loudly he no longer knew what she was saying, tears dropping onto his skin as she cried above him. She was a broken woman and he was too young to fight back.


    When it was over, he'd crawl back to his room, maybe or maybe not making it back to his bed. He'd stare at himself for hours upon hours as silence weighed over him, staring at the cuts, the bruises, the strange colors that littered his pale form. He'd poke and prod, hissing softly when the pain would tingle across his nerves but....he never hated it. He didn't even feel a thing when his mother hit him after a while, it just was. Soon he began to look forward to it, if only so he could poke and prod and toy with the pain that lingered


    His mother was a broken woman, but Watson was a shattered boy.



    Relationships:


    At the current moment, Watson has no relationships, not real one's anyways. He has people that are nice to him, people he considers friends. In reality, they're nothing more than those that pity him, offering him a kind smile and a wave whenever they make eye contact. Still, it means the world to him and he counts every one as a friend.



    Likes:


    cuddles | candy | soft things |


    being at school | drawing | cooking | pain | blood | bruises | quiet | people with power | dominant people[/COLOR]



    Dislikes:


    his home | his father | petrified of the dark | being yelled at | violence | anger[/COLOR]



    Kinks:


    pain | choking | hair pulling | has general masochistic tendencies | praise | attention | love (fake or real) | slow and sweet sex | being bitten/scratched/cut/hit during | slow kissing | nipple play (receiving) (color=#006666) | edging/orgasm denial | rough sex [/COLOR]



    No-Goes:


    No bodily fluid/excretions other than blood. There is absolutely no non-con sex. You can beg all you want, it's not happening. dub con can be discussed but don't get your hopes up.



    Can They Be Bullied:


    Watson, is a rather easy target, but also a willing one. He doesn't fight back, he doesn't cry or beg for mercy. If one pays close enough attention, when he gets beaten, his eyes glisten with a shimmer of glee. He most definitely enjoys it, the pain, the evidence, the feeling of a fist impacting his skin and shaking his bones. So yes, he will happily be bullied for his own enjoyment.


    Will They Bully:


    Watson isn't intimidating nor loud enough to bully someone. It would be quite sad if he tried really.



    Can They Be Raped:


    As stated above, I do not engage in non-con under any circumstances.



    Will They Rape:


    As stated above, I do not engage in non-con under any circumstances.



    Can They Be Abused:


    He already is, but that doesn't mean he hates it. Just like with being bullied, he'll probably be rather content with it. He's used to it, the mental and physical demeaning. It's nothing new for him.



    Will They Be Abusive:


    Being an almost chronically obsessive masochist, causing pain to others does nothing for him. He'd much rather it be done to him.







  • [ ~ Honestly, I Really Could Care Less ~ ]


    full


    [color=#b3b3000]Name:[/COLOR]


    Aaron Moretti



    Age:


    Born August 13th, Aaron is only 16, though his disposition would lend one to think he's possibly older.



    Height:


    Standing at 5 ft 8in, Aaron is on the taller side of average for teen boys. He's still young though, and has a high chance of getting taller in the near future.



    Ethnicity:


    Aaron is a mix. His mother was Japanese and Puerto Rican, while his father was full bred Italian.



    Appearance:


    Aaron is tall and slim, though not unhealthy. He has a naturally athletic build with lean muscle wrapped in warm olive toned skin. In the summer he tans easily into a light bronze ocher, his mixed Italian and Spanish heritage showing through. His hair is a soft silky brown, naturally straight from his mother. His brother was the one that got their father's unruly plush curls. His eyes are a soft warm brown, framed by thick, dark lashes that kiss his cheeks when he blinks, dulled by his usual bored gaze that only brightens when drawing, reading, or seeing his brother. He has a tongue ring that few see since he barely talks



    Grade:


    11



    Clubs:


    Unfortunately, there was no Anime club for Aaron to join, as he is an avid lover of the comics. The next best thing for him was Art club, so he joined it, if only to work on his own art. He has a secret goal of, perhaps, becoming a comic artist himself, though he keeps his story and characters tightly under wraps



    Sexuality:


    Technically, Aaron is in the closet, but not for fear of others and their reactions. His parents do not know, because Aaron isn't the type to divulge such personal information, even to family. His brother is the only one who knows his orientation, if only because he was the one to make Aaron realize his preference. If asked, he will tell the truth, but only if asked by someone he deems a true friend. Otherwise, they get an owlish blink before he turns and walks away. It's none of their business anyways.



    Position:


    Aaron is rather passive out of habit. Naturally avoidant of confrontation, he'll take up whatever position causes less tension, mostly because he's content with pleasing his partner anyway he can. Though, he has a preference for topping, he's by no means a dominant top. In fact, his favorite, is when his partner is on top, pinning him to the sheets and riding him.



    Personality:


    Aaron is naturally passive and rather quiet. He's not shy and isn't afraid to interact with others, as is often the misconception, he's just not much of a talker. He likes to observe people, see how they really interact behind the facade they all put up. He's rather distrusting of anyone other than his brother and takes quite a while to warm up to strangers. It takes a while to make friends, and if asked, Aaron would say he has none even though there are several classmates that would count him in their friend list. He's kind, understanding and empathetic, though he keeps most people at arms length. Aaron has a knack for quips and sharp comments when constantly bothered by someone he doesn't want to talk to, a habit he'd picked up from his silver-tongued sibling.



    Bio:


    Born just a year prior to his precious baby brother to two loving parents, things were all well and good in Aaron's life. He and Anthony were inseparable, doing everything together from eating, to playing, to bathing. Their parents, and their parents friends, would coo and preen at how sweet the two were, so close and so loving. Aaron has nothing but happy memories about his childhood, up until he was twelve.


    They were on their way back from a holiday in the States, their parents having surprised the boys with a trip to Disney World. They were exhausted but happy, the chatter of their parents in the front seat lulling them to sleep as they made the long drive back home.


    There were no other cars on the road, the night cool and silent. It happened when they pulled off for a refuel. The family pulled up to the stop light with a creaking of their breaks, silence laying over them. It was just as the light turned green, their little car easing into the crossroads that another came careening from the darkness. There wasn't enough time to change what happened next, only enough to gasp in fear as the truck slammed into the side of their family car with an awful crunch of bone and metal. They rolled, tossed and tumbled for who knows how long, until the crumpled up mess of a vehicle flopped to a standstill.


    The next time Aaron was awake, he was in a white room, a heart monitor beeping and his brother red eyes and cheeks tear-stained as he clung to his cold hand. He learned soon after that his parents had died on impact, the wreckage leaving him with acute amnesia of the event and a left leg crushed beyond repair. The accident left him and his brother orphaned, himself handicapped and the drunken truck driver scott free as their aunt didn't have enough to press charges.


    They moved to Japan soon after, where their aunt lived. She'd only come out for a few weeks to look after the boys and file the necessary paperwork to become their legal guardian. Ever since then, the two have lived with her in her tiny little apartment, practically raising themselves. It's not her fault though. She had to pick up a second job just to keep them all afloat, especially once they both got to high school, testing into the school with their excellent grades.



    Relationships:


    His brother is the only person that Aaron is close to, probably a little...too close.



    Likes:


    smoking | sleeping | reading | drawing | soft things | the occasional Vicodin | warm things | his brother | tattoos (on others) | the color yellow.



    Dislikes:


    alcohol | too energetic people | rough things | yelling | being sick | your face | strangers | being touched without permission | anyone who isn't his brother



    Kinks:


    praise | rough | dirty talk | oral (giving) | anything rubbing the roof of his mouth | tongue piercings | piercings in general | tattoos (insta-swoon) | brunettes



    Other:


    Thanks to the car accident when he was twelve, Aaron has a false left leg. Thanks to the uniform, it's concealed under his clothes, and he doesn't make it common knowledge. There is a slight jerk to his gait, an unevenness in his step, but that doesn't exactly signal fake leg to anyone unaware.


    He also has an eidetic memory, able to accurately recall anything he's ever seen or read. This lead to him being seen as a genius at a young age, though when he saw the expectations that placed on his younger brother, who didn't have his same memory skill, he quickly began to purposefully get things wrong, if only to lessen the burden on his brother.


    Aaron has an oral fixation, so often plays with his tongue ring, chews on pencils or straws.



    No-Goes:


    No bodily fluid/excretions other than blood. There is absolutely no non-con sex. You can beg all you want, it's not happening. dub con can be discussed but don't get your hopes up.



    Can They Be Bullied:


    ]Aaron seems like an easy target because he's quiet and often seen alone if not with his brother. However, he's not a silent target. He's witty and sharp and will let you have it, verbally at least. He's not much of a fight, however, you'll have his sibling to answer to if he finds out you even thought of laying a hand on him.



    Will They Bully:


    Aaron doesn't care enough about his fellow students to bully them, or otherwise engage in their lives outside of an occasional conversation and group/partner project.



    Can They Be Raped:


    As stated above, non-con is a hard no for me.[



    Will They Rape:


    As stated above, non-con is a hard no. My characters will not engage in it under any circumstances



    Can They Be Abused:


    One may try to abuse him, mentally or physically, but again, his brother is a force to be reckoned with. Do not be misguided by his height.



    Will They Be Abusive:


    Aaron doesn't have it in him to be abusive nor manipulative even if he wanted to.








  • [ ~ What's Mine Is Mine, So Keep Your Hands Off It ~ ]


    full



    Name:


    Anthony Moretti



    Age:


    Just one year younger, Anthony is 15 years old. He was born on September 28th but doesn't often celebrate because he thinks birthday's are stupid.



    Height & Weight:


    Standing at only 5ft and 5inches, Anthony is several inches shorter than his brother, not that he minds all that much. He fits rather nicely in his arms when they hug.



    Ethnicity:


    Anthony is a mix. His mother was Japanese and Puerto Rican, while his father was full Italian.



    Appearance:


    Anthony is short, just shy of the average male height. Whether or not he's going to get taller though, that's debatable. He has soft, bouncy brown curls and brilliant blue eyes. His eye color is from a distance grandparent, the recessive allele showing face in him. He's a bit paler than his brother and doesn't tan as easily, but he is clearly of some mixed decent.


    His blue eyes are usually drooped with annoyance or boredom, as he finds school more of a hassle than anything. Soft petal lips are usually hinting at a frown, though the moment he lays eyes on his brother his entire demeanor brightens with a brilliant smile as he bounces over to the other teen.



    Grade:


    10



    Clubs:


    Anthony is, technically, a part of the art club, but not because he actually cares about art, nor does he have an interest in it. The only reason he joined was because his brother did.



    Sexuality:


    Anthony identifies as straight, though only because he has yet to find interest in a boy other than his brother. Perhaps Aaron-sexual would suit him better.



    Position:


    Anthony is exclusively a top, and isn't interested in anything else. He doesn't like to be subjugated.



    ]Personality:


    Anthony is a dry, sarcastic boy. Just like Aaron, he keeps people at arms length, though is open to a few friendships. They're less than genuine on his part though, as he only spends time with those that serve a purpose to him. He can get violent, though he is careful to keep that out of the sight of his precious older brother. He doesn't need Aaron to see his darker side, as Anthony has a subtle sadistic streak in him. The quickest way to find this side of him though, is to try and woo his brother from him, even via a simple friendship. He doesn't take too kindly to that.



    Bio:


    His past is almost identical to his brothers, save for the accident. Unlike Aaron, Anthony suffered only a few bumps and bruises. He was relatively unscathed out of pure luck. Ever since then he clung to his older brother almost obsessively and the two grew even closer than before. He'd often tell Aaron strange things, like how much he loved him, how he wouldn't be anything without his brother. When Aaron would begin to venture off with the rare person that caught his interest, Anthony would fake an illness just to bring him home. It was easy to keep Aaron wrapped around his finger. He'd demand kisses for Aaron to prove how much he loved them, even if they both knew boys kissing, let alone brothers, would get them into quite a bit of trouble. Anthony wanted it, wanted everything Aaron was.


    As they got older it got worse until Anthony had his brother convinced that they only needed each other. They share the same bed, only getting away with it because of their aunt's minimal space. They take baths together, and when he's feeling particularly in need of Aaron proving himself, they share particularly intimate moments where Anthony gets to revel in faces Aaron only makes for him.



    Relationships:


    The only person he cares for is his brother. His aunt, he appreciates, but he doesn't lover her as more so just appreciates what she does for them.



    Likes:


    his brother | sleep | cuddling (his brother) | Messing with people | monopolizing his siblings time



    Dislikes:


    homework | school | loud people | nosy people | anyone who tries to come between him and his brother | school clubs | overly optimistic people



    Kinks:


    dominating | hair pulling (others) | oral (receiving) | teasing (others) | orgasm denial | making partners beg | toys



    No-Goes:


    No bodily fluid/excretions other than blood. There is absolutely no non-con sex. You can beg all you want, it's not happening. dub con can be discussed but don't get your hopes up.



    Other:


    Anthony shows Aaron a completely different side of himself than the rest of the world sees. To others, Anthony is a devious trouble-maker, but with his brother, he's nothing more than a lovable little brother that, on occasion, is a bit clingy. This is completely on purpose, as Anthony carefully constructs Aaron's reality to keep him in his arms.



    Can They Be Bullied:


    There could be attempts, but Anthony is just as, if not more, quick witted and sharp-tongued as his brother. He will cut you down with a sharp jibe, but can also deliver a mean right hook.



    Will They Bully:


    If it's someone trying to take his brother from him, or is really just that annoying that they need cut down a few pegs, then yes, yes he will.



    Can They Be Raped:


    As stated above, non-con is a hard no. This cannot be discussed.



    Will They Rape: [


    As stated above, non-con is a hard no. This cannot be discussed.



    Can They Be Abused:


    One could attempt, but Anthony is not known for being peaceful. He has a mean streak in him, one few have truly seen but lays just beneath the surface.



    Will They Be Abusive:


    Anthony is rather manipulative towards his brother and isn't above pulling strings with others to keep Aaron at his side. If anyone gets in his way, they can, and will, be exposed of.





  • [ ~ A Wolf In Sheep’s Clothing Still Has Claws ~ ]


    4c74c8d63f9c8857cbdff56a33f5f1d1.jpg



    Name:


    Zafir Marouq Tah'an



    Nickname:


    Zeke | Zaddy | Zaf



    Age:


    Born January 27, Zafir is 18 years old, though he saunters around with the cockiness of someone much older.



    Height:


    Zafir stands at a rather towering height of 6ft and 3 inches.



    Ethnicity:


    Zeke's father is a 100% Japanese, but his mother is of Arab decent with a strong cultural identity hence his name.



    Appearance:


    Zafir, aka Zeke, is the epitome of tall dark and handsome. He has an athletic build, bulked up lean muscle thanks to his involvement in volleyball and baseball, playing basketball for fun with his friends in his free time. He has wild dark hair, often styled in that tantalizing bed head style, with dark umber eyes that seem to pierce straight through you. His arms are lined with tattoos that expand over his pecs. He has two piercings in his left eyebrow and snakbites beneath his plump bottom lip. His stomach is flat, showcasing a stacked set of muscles, that he flaunts whenever he can, particularly when he changes for gym or when he's out on the courts playing basketball or volleyball with friends in public.



    Grade:


    12



    Clubs:


    Zafir is in two clubs. Naturally athletic, he excels in sports, namely volleyball and baseball, of which he is a well known star.



    Sexuality:


    Zeke will vehemently deny being anything but straight. In fact, he's notorious for messing with kids he knows aren't, though, no one is around when he does and the kids he 'teases' are usually left waddling away with red cheeks and mussed clothes.



    Position:


    Zeke is, and always will be, a domineering top, or so he thinks. It's highly unlikely, but, perhaps, if there's a man more dominating than himself, he could possibly be made a switch.



    Personality:


    There was a time where Zeke wasn't such a prick, way back when he was a small, doe-eyed child. He used to be care free and reckless, not giving a thought to what other people thought about him. That soon changed when his father made it very clear about what he thought of Zeke's 'unnatural' friendship with a neighbor boy down the hall from where they lived. It was a point of contention between his mother and father, leading to very late night fights, their voices often echoing in the hall. To ease his parents fighting, for his mother's sake, Zeke began to push the other boy away, stuffing down the ache in his chest. He hid that part of himself, covering it up with nihilism and sarcasm. As he got older, it got worse, the self-loathing as eyes would linger a little too long on a pretty faced boy. It grew harder and harder as he was kept in an all boys school, and with that struggle, Zeke became harsher and harsher.



    Taking out his personal frustrations on his classmates, Zeke is known to target those that are out. He doesn't physically harm them, doesn't corner them and beat them, but he does make their lives hell. You don't need to physically attack someone to ruin their life, and by making them miserable it satisfies a part of him that needs to be socially dominant, that needs to prove to himself that he's not one of those freaks.



    However, Zafir isn't all anger and self-loathing. There's a side to him no one see's, save for two sweet children that wait for him when he gets home. His little brother and sister, the only people on this earth that get a genuine smile from the man half of the school feared. If anyone saw this side of him, they'd be honestly confused.




    Bio


    TRIGGER WARNING: child abuse.



    Zeke used to have a best friend. His name was Jackson and he lived just a few doors down from him when he was in kindergarten. The two were inseparable. If you couldn't find one, it's because they were probably with the other. His father didn't like this much, always complaining about how much time Zeke spent with the boy. When he was little he didn't understand, always hurt when his father would call him in early for homework, or chores (or whatever he could think of at the time) despite his mother having given him permission to head out with his friend. It was always a point of contention with his parents, one that often left them in screaming matches with each other. On those nights he would slip out and into his friends room, via the window on their connected fire escape and sleep there.


    It was when he turned seven, that it all came to a head. He'd drawn a picture in school, of him and Jackson. It was just a child's imagination, but it made his father see red. On the page were two carefully, but still sloppy in aspects, drawn boys holding hands. There was a heart between them, with crooked letters spelling I love Jackson , across the page. It was all in childish innocence, Zafir not even understand what love could mean outside of family, but his father had enough.



    The young child watched in horror as his father shredded the picture he'd worked so hard on, gasping when a too tight grip wrapped around his upper arm. Zeke learned that day to never draw such things again. He didn't understand it, but he didn't want to suffer the wrath of his father like that ever again.



    His mother was horrified to find out what happened, another fight, another match of screaming until the two were so hoarse they couldn't speak for days. Zafir stayed at Jackson's every night for a week after that, sneaking out late and crawling back in during the wee hours of the morning.



    And for a few years things were fine. He was still just as close with Jackson as ever and the fighting began to ebb. His father thought he was 'fixed' but that was far from the truth. In fact, Zeke felt...funny when he was around Jackson, his stomach feeling odd and squirmy, his heart would beat too fast. He never spoke of it, not at first, but it got to the point that it hurt



    When he thought his father was out, Zafir invited Jackson over and he told him. It was scary, terrifying really, but then Jackson smiled. They felt the same, and the young twelve year old couldn't be happier. They didn't change much after that, only holding hands and cuddling when they were alone. Jackson knew Zeke was scared of his father, so he didn't push it. But secret's were only secret for so long, and this one blew up in their faces when they were just thirteen.



    It was his first kiss, with anyone, but he was over the moon that it was Jackson. His father was supposed to be gone, supposed to be at work, but those were only 'supposed to's. No one could have seen it coming, two boys too wrapped up in the magic of a gentle kiss, unaware of the man who came home early, who barged into the room and saw everything.



    Zeke had never seen his father so angry, and his father made sure he felt every ounce of anger. That night was blurry to him, though he remembers Jackson running, his mother screaming, and his young sister rattling cries from her crib. When the doctor's asked what happened, his father simply said he fell down the stairs, to which Zeke only mutely nodded along to.



    The fights got worse after that, followed by shattering objects and his sister's cries. He wasn't safe from it anymore either, as the angrier his father got, the less he was home during the day, the less he was home, the more he drank, and the more he drank the worse it got.



    He didn't go to Jackson's anymore, didn't talk to him, didn't even look at him. Jackson didn't try to either, not when one glance showed the haunted look in his friends eyes, the resolve to never give into his own wants again.



    Somehow in all this chaos his mother had another child, but no one ever asked about it. She wouldn't look their father in the eyes anymore, cowered from him instead of battled him, and only when the boy was weened onto table food did she flee. Yes, she ran away, leaving her children to a monster, leaving her oldest to fend for himself, protect his siblings from a raging mans wrath but....truly, not once did Zafir hate his mother for it. If he could have ran, if he knew he could have ran, he would have done it to.



    When he was 15, he brought home his first girlfriend, if only to appease the beast his father had become. It was strange, unsettling, the turn around that made. It was like he was a different man, and Zeke saw an out. There were still bad days, awful days, but the more women he brought around, the less violent his father got, until he was just a lazy drunk sitting on the couch. Zeke took over parenting his siblings, sister now 12 and brother only five. To them he was kind, and soft and sweet, being the parent he never had. For them he would take off the mask he'd built to save himself.



    Relationships:


    At the moment, Zeke has a loose relation with a girl named Amira at their sister school just a few blocks away. His 'girlfriend' would like to think it's serious, and gushes to her friends about it, but the truth is, Zeke only calls her attention when he needs some proof after a night of drunken mistakes that he is normal.



    Kazue Kirara is Zeke's uncle



    Likes:


    weed | drinking | parties | women | his siblings | movies | pizza | cracking jokes | sports | the outdoors | the color red | cats | green eyes | heat | piercings | tattoos



    Dislikes:


    homosexuals | his father | homework | authority | anyone who doesn't mind their own fucking business



    Kinks:


    domination | spanking | biting | begging | teasing | edging | hair pulling | scratching | rough sex | oral (receiving) | nipple play (giving) | drunk sex | high sex | public sex | toys | bondage | lip biting | green eyes | fingering | oral (giving to females) | orgasm denial



    No-Goes:


    No bodily fluid/excretions other than blood. There is absolutely no non-con sex. You can beg all you want, it's not happening. dub con can be discussed but don't get your hopes up.[/COLOR]



    Other:


    Zeke has a bad habit of going to parties and getting absolutely shit faced when he's feeling rather pent up. Unfortunately, for him, no matter how hard he tries, he always comes to in the wee hours of the morning with some boy in his bed. It doesn't take a genius to figure out what happened, and he always leaves before the other awakes. If the guy remembers, no one ever knows, because neither party acts like it ever happened.



    Can They Be Bullied:


    One could try to bully Zeke, but expect a hard fist in the face.



    Will They Bully:


    For Zeke, targeting those that he sees that part of himself in, is sort of like retribution. He can try and stop it out in himself, but when that fails, his aggressions project onto others. It's far from healthy, but Zeke isn't concerned with health. He just wants to be normal.



    Can They Be Raped:


    As stated above, non-con is a hard no for me. This cannot be discussed.[



    Will They Rape:


    As stated above, non-con is a hard no for me. This cannot be discussed.



    Can They Be Abused:


    By his father, on occasion if he knew what his son got up to at parties.



    Will They Be Abusive:


    They may be emotionally toxic, and perhaps physically abusive as they struggle with their sexuality.




  • [ ~ I Don’t Bite…Hard ~ ]


    9655f3fc082874feb69a7d1ef4b875f3.jpg



    Name:


    His full name is Tanner Mellony Dietrich



    Age:


    Tanner was born on July 12 a happy, energetic child. That energy hasn’t dropped in the 17 years he’s been alive either.



    Height & Weight:


    Tanner is about average height with a slim build. He stands at 5ft 6inches, pretty on par with your regular boy. He’s naturally thin and thanks to that, lean. The idea of working out makes him laugh, though thanks to the musculature he was born with, most assume he does, at least a little.



    Ethnicity:


    Tanner is a foreign exchange student from Germany. His mother was stationed in Japan for work. Usually he and his other mother would stay back, but the chance to visit a country he had a deep interest in, plus one of the best schooling systems, there was no reason to say no.



    Appearance:


    Tanner is rather….noticeable, much to his parents chagrin. His hair is a brilliant cotton candy pink, the sides were trimmed down while the rest tapers to its full length, bangs flopping into a gentle curl over his forehead. A few strands usually brush his sun-kissed skin, tickling his eyelashes. He isn’t tan, but he’s not pale either, eyes a large, brilliant blue. He had soft features that gave him a boyish look, grin always twisted into a cheshire smile, hinting at naturally sharp canines. He has both ears pierced, with his left ear having a second whole and two extra cartilage piercings.



    Grade:


    11th



    Clubs:


    Tanner isn’t in any clubs, though he can be seen wandering out of sports clubs locker rooms a few minutes before practice starts.



    Sexuality:


    Tanner is unashamedly gay. He flaunts it really, though not obnoxiously. He’s just unapologetic in his behavior, and quite the little flirt. Who doesn’t really matter to him, neither does the when or the where. He’s quite….flexible, in every sense of the word, topping or bottoming. His favorites though, are the one’s who try to hide it. They’re just so pent up that, when they finally get release, its beautiful to watch their faces contort in utter bliss as he brings them to fruition. It’s quite the ego boost honestly



    Position:


    Tanner doesn’t mind which position he takes. Getting filled and doing the filling are equally satisfying to him. As long as he gets his partner off he’s fine.



    Personality:


    Tanner is a ball of energy. He can’t sit still, always moving, always chatting. He often gets called out in class because he’s talking to a neighbor or giggling at something on his phone, or just fidgeting too much. He’s a natural flirt with an addictive personality. If he finds that one boy who makes his toes curl like no other, he’ll forgo all responsibility and indulge unto his hearts content. He’ll always be found with them, that is, until he gets bored of them and finds a new toy to spend time with. He’s calculating and can be cold when needed, though he finds far more pleasure in toying with his food before he eats it.



    Bio:


    Tanner doesn’t know his birth parents. He was adopted by Rosalie and Megara, two partners who, at the time, had just gotten married at 25. They were sweet women, who raised him with all of the love and passion parents could give. Rosalie is in the German Army, and is often spending years away from home. That left Megara to raise Tanner practically on her own, though she was a star at it if Tanner were to give his opinion. He loves these women with all of his heart, and never gives a thought to who his birth parents are. They even offered to help track them down if he wanted, but Tanner brushed it off without a second thought. They were his parents, and that’s all that mattered to him.


    Growing up, there were countless calls from teachers, detentions, and even a few from the principle himself, about Tanner’s behavior. It took all of three years of school before he was properly diagnosed. He had ADHD, but instead of medicating him like everyone else wanted, Megara put him in sports to get rid of his energy. That worked for a time, but as he got older, Tanner lost interest in games people took too seriously.


    After several long talks with Rosalie and their pediatrician, they decided to try a more…natural approach to calming Tanner. He was prescribed a small dosage of THC to relax him and slow him down. A few drops in tea in the morning and Tanner showed a big difference in no time. There was no need for harsh chemicals from a lab, they had a better way now.


    When he was fifteen, Tanner kissed his first boy, and it was magical. It didn’t end well, but that’s besides the point. That’s when he realized who he really was, terrified to tell his parents despite them being partner’s themselves. There was just…a weight to it that scared young children no matter how open their parents were/are. Needless to say his mother’s accepted him with open arms.


    As the years progressed, Tanner found he really like boys, especially how they made him feel. He spent more time outside of the house, ‘sleep overs’ is what he would tell his mother. He’d assure her the other’s parents were there (they weren’t) and the teens would indulge to their hearts desire. Whether or not his mother’s knew of his deceit, he didn’t ask and they didn’t tell. He was just a teen after all and, well, teens do what teens do.



    Relationships:


    Tanner doesn’t believe in relationships. They’re just a hassle and make him feel claustrophobic.



    Likes:


    cuddles | candy | soft things |


    boys | sex | teasing | pulling pranks | laughing | sleep | music | wholistic medicine | bright colors[/COLOR]



    Dislikes:


    rules | know-it-alls | people who condescend him | anyone who talks ill of his mothers | homophobes | being lied to[/COLOR]



    Kinks:


    oral | choking | hair pulling | teasing | praise | watching/ voyeurism | rough sex | slow and sweet sex | being bitten/scratched/cut/hit during | multiple rounds | nipple play (receiving) (color=#ff99cc) | edging/orgasm denial | public sex [/COLOR]



    No-Goes:


    No bodily fluid/excretions other than blood. There is absolutely no non-con sex. You can beg all you want, it's not happening. dub con can be discussed but don't get your hopes up.



    Can They Be Bullied:


    Tanner isn’t new to such a thing. Being gay was never, and will never, be easy. Not in this life time at least. He looks at it with a smile though, laughing off any harsh words. They mean nothing to him. Honestly, people could stand to, at the very least, try and be a little creative with their insults, amirite?



    Can They Be Raped:


    As stated above, I do not engage in non-con under any circumstances.



    Will They Rape:


    As stated above, I do not engage in non-con under any circumstances.



    Can They Be Abused:


    It all depends on the partner I suppose. Tanner is rather strong willed. He has a clear sense of identity and knows what he will and will not put up with. He has no issues about dropping someone at the snap of his fingers, then again, he’s never been in love and well….love makes people do foolish things now doesn’t it.



    Will They Be Abusive:


    Despite being a tease and a prankster, Tanner doesn’t have a mean bone in his body. He has a kind heart deep down. Then again, love is powerful and drives us to extremes, extremes we don’t see ourselves reaching under the worst of circumstances.





 
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: Navuso
Hey Guys!

So, I've been sitting on this idea for a while and figures if not now, then when?





  • This art co-op is a group of artists, new or old to the craft, getting together to share, inspire and create together. I would like this to be a community of like minded people who can help each other along any part of their journey.


  • I have several different aspects planned for this, as its a mixture of sharing information as well as a sort of trading post for artists. Through this community I would like to have a monthly event where we all create a piece, however we choose, in that theme. Unwanted/Gently used materials can be traded for something(s) of equal or lesser value, and art trades can be made between users. Anyone wanting to set up social media to boost their craft or begin video content could find helpful sources and get advice from other members.

    All in all this is a place to learn and grow and thrive as an artist at any level in any style.


  • There is no skill level requirement to join. This is for all levels and all styles of art. Even craft makers are welcome to join and share their skills, engage in trades, and offer advice to those interested in crafting as well.

  • Joining is easy! Hop into the discord server via the link posted below! :D




 
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I N F E C T E D
March 2021
 
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Nam vulputate luctus ipsum ac vulputate. In hac habitasse platea dictumst. Ut ac lectus sit amet lacus posuere accumsan. Curabitur pretium condimentum dui et semper. Nullam euismod quam interdum pretium dignissim. Aenean non lectus eget ex congue tristique et in velit. Nulla eu velit sollicitudin, ullamcorper tortor ac, maximus arcu. Vivamus tellus orci, venenatis in sollicitudin efficitur, facilisis nec dolor. Maecenas eu dui congue, ornare est at, sollicitudin odio. Vestibulum molestie, nisi eu aliquam sollicitudin, metus ligula semper risus, sit amet ultricies urna nisi id nibh. Aenean laoreet in orci id venenatis. Nulla feugiat mi vitae venenatis consequat. Nunc tincidunt ligula tellus, in iaculis metus tempus ut. Nunc porta lectus sed ante porta elementum at et dui.

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Suspendisse fermentum elementum viverra. Cras sagittis nulla id sapien faucibus cursus. Quisque tempus velit at porta maximus. Nam a faucibus dui, ac placerat orci. Vivamus vestibulum tincidunt ultricies. Praesent sed felis ac tortor faucibus pretium eu id nibh. Vestibulum lobortis laoreet arcu et suscipit. Vivamus sed fringilla nisi. Nulla lacus arcu, tristique nec tincidunt sit amet, suscipit vitae nisi. Mauris consequat orci non mauris elementum pellentesque. Praesent non mi placerat, fermentum sapien at, dapibus libero.

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Curabitur rutrum turpis eget augue hendrerit pellentesque. Maecenas tellus neque, consectetur nec eleifend sed, mattis id velit. Suspendisse tincidunt nec velit a iaculis. Sed sit amet sollicitudin lorem. In hac habitasse platea dictumst. Fusce vel congue erat. Aliquam aliquam sed mi sit amet interdum. Nulla semper a nulla ut pretium. Donec non erat ligula. In hac habitasse platea dictumst.​

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Duis tristique, quam et placerat commodo, ipsum neque lacinia sapien, quis finibus nunc augue a lectus. Ut luctus massa nisl, quis placerat turpis tristique rutrum. Nunc eget odio blandit tortor consequat ornare quis sit amet mi. Etiam posuere lectus a ipsum condimentum blandit. Fusce tempus mauris ut leo vehicula fermentum. Phasellus molestie eget urna viverra commodo. Nulla nec mi consequat, dictum lacus sed, efficitur dui. Mauris at maximus justo, at vulputate tortor. Quisque ullamcorper sodales pretium. Sed nec enim metus. Duis auctor ipsum in ligula rutrum suscipit. Morbi sapien magna, blandit vel metus ut, consequat dignissim orci. Pellentesque vitae consequat dolor. Cras laoreet arcu sit amet sapien dictum, ac lacinia metus dignissim. Vestibulum hendrerit dictum neque.

Nunc sem mi, cursus id commodo quis, vestibulum eu mauris. Cras arcu urna, vestibulum non eleifend sed, placerat quis odio. Nunc vitae urna non velit pulvinar condimentum et a lorem. Nullam efficitur molestie pharetra. Sed vitae facilisis libero. Suspendisse accumsan lacus at condimentum molestie. Aenean nec dolor id erat suscipit dictum. Suspendisse venenatis justo est, rhoncus eleifend ex commodo ac.

Nam vulputate luctus ipsum ac vulputate. In hac habitasse platea dictumst. Ut ac lectus sit amet lacus posuere accumsan. Curabitur pretium condimentum dui et semper. Nullam euismod quam interdum pretium dignissim. Aenean non lectus eget ex congue tristique et in velit. Nulla eu velit sollicitudin, ullamcorper tortor ac, maximus arcu. Vivamus tellus orci, venenatis in sollicitudin efficitur, facilisis nec dolor. Maecenas eu dui congue, ornare est at, sollicitudin odio. Vestibulum molestie, nisi eu aliquam sollicitudin, metus ligula semper risus, sit amet ultricies urna nisi id nibh. Aenean laoreet in orci id venenatis. Nulla feugiat mi vitae venenatis consequat. Nunc tincidunt ligula tellus, in iaculis metus tempus ut. Nunc porta lectus sed ante porta elementum at et dui.

Cras faucibus nibh lectus, a pretium erat lobortis vel. Nam et mattis tortor. Duis cursus luctus gravida. Etiam et enim nec eros vulputate fringilla. Morbi venenatis sollicitudin nisi, consectetur viverra purus volutpat at. Pellentesque pellentesque tincidunt magna in maximus. Nulla nec urna lorem. Cras viverra libero ut elit pharetra, vitae malesuada velit convallis.

Suspendisse fermentum elementum viverra. Cras sagittis nulla id sapien faucibus cursus. Quisque tempus velit at porta maximus. Nam a faucibus dui, ac placerat orci. Vivamus vestibulum tincidunt ultricies. Praesent sed felis ac tortor faucibus pretium eu id nibh. Vestibulum lobortis laoreet arcu et suscipit. Vivamus sed fringilla nisi. Nulla lacus arcu, tristique nec tincidunt sit amet, suscipit vitae nisi. Mauris consequat orci non mauris elementum pellentesque. Praesent non mi placerat, fermentum sapien at, dapibus libero.

Etiam libero tortor, scelerisque ut ipsum sed, bibendum maximus nisi. Curabitur augue quam, tempor nec ex a, venenatis ornare urna. Duis vel quam purus. Vestibulum gravida, mi in porta molestie, enim est gravida lorem, quis semper erat erat vel dui. Proin gravida nec sem ac laoreet. Nulla arcu urna, aliquet ut dolor in, consequat interdum enim. Suspendisse facilisis lobortis odio quis dapibus. Aenean iaculis vulputate tortor in scelerisque. Vivamus interdum mauris eu aliquam volutpat. Nulla aliquam est in purus tempor, non molestie est varius. Duis ac massa arcu. Nulla vitae vestibulum justo.

Curabitur rutrum turpis eget augue hendrerit pellentesque. Maecenas tellus neque, consectetur nec eleifend sed, mattis id velit. Suspendisse tincidunt nec velit a iaculis. Sed sit amet sollicitudin lorem. In hac habitasse platea dictumst. Fusce vel congue erat. Aliquam aliquam sed mi sit amet interdum. Nulla semper a nulla ut pretium. Donec non erat ligula. In hac habitasse platea dictumst.​

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Duis tristique, quam et placerat commodo, ipsum neque lacinia sapien, quis finibus nunc augue a lectus. Ut luctus massa nisl, quis placerat turpis tristique rutrum. Nunc eget odio blandit tortor consequat ornare quis sit amet mi. Etiam posuere lectus a ipsum condimentum blandit. Fusce tempus mauris ut leo vehicula fermentum. Phasellus molestie eget urna viverra commodo. Nulla nec mi consequat, dictum lacus sed, efficitur dui. Mauris at maximus justo, at vulputate tortor. Quisque ullamcorper sodales pretium. Sed nec enim metus. Duis auctor ipsum in ligula rutrum suscipit. Morbi sapien magna, blandit vel metus ut, consequat dignissim orci. Pellentesque vitae consequat dolor. Cras laoreet arcu sit amet sapien dictum, ac lacinia metus dignissim. Vestibulum hendrerit dictum neque.

Nunc sem mi, cursus id commodo quis, vestibulum eu mauris. Cras arcu urna, vestibulum non eleifend sed, placerat quis odio. Nunc vitae urna non velit pulvinar condimentum et a lorem. Nullam efficitur molestie pharetra. Sed vitae facilisis libero. Suspendisse accumsan lacus at condimentum molestie. Aenean nec dolor id erat suscipit dictum. Suspendisse venenatis justo est, rhoncus eleifend ex commodo ac.

Nam vulputate luctus ipsum ac vulputate. In hac habitasse platea dictumst. Ut ac lectus sit amet lacus posuere accumsan. Curabitur pretium condimentum dui et semper. Nullam euismod quam interdum pretium dignissim. Aenean non lectus eget ex congue tristique et in velit. Nulla eu velit sollicitudin, ullamcorper tortor ac, maximus arcu. Vivamus tellus orci, venenatis in sollicitudin efficitur, facilisis nec dolor. Maecenas eu dui congue, ornare est at, sollicitudin odio. Vestibulum molestie, nisi eu aliquam sollicitudin, metus ligula semper risus, sit amet ultricies urna nisi id nibh. Aenean laoreet in orci id venenatis. Nulla feugiat mi vitae venenatis consequat. Nunc tincidunt ligula tellus, in iaculis metus tempus ut. Nunc porta lectus sed ante porta elementum at et dui.

Cras faucibus nibh lectus, a pretium erat lobortis vel. Nam et mattis tortor. Duis cursus luctus gravida. Etiam et enim nec eros vulputate fringilla. Morbi venenatis sollicitudin nisi, consectetur viverra purus volutpat at. Pellentesque pellentesque tincidunt magna in maximus. Nulla nec urna lorem. Cras viverra libero ut elit pharetra, vitae malesuada velit convallis.

Suspendisse fermentum elementum viverra. Cras sagittis nulla id sapien faucibus cursus. Quisque tempus velit at porta maximus. Nam a faucibus dui, ac placerat orci. Vivamus vestibulum tincidunt ultricies. Praesent sed felis ac tortor faucibus pretium eu id nibh. Vestibulum lobortis laoreet arcu et suscipit. Vivamus sed fringilla nisi. Nulla lacus arcu, tristique nec tincidunt sit amet, suscipit vitae nisi. Mauris consequat orci non mauris elementum pellentesque. Praesent non mi placerat, fermentum sapien at, dapibus libero.

Etiam libero tortor, scelerisque ut ipsum sed, bibendum maximus nisi. Curabitur augue quam, tempor nec ex a, venenatis ornare urna. Duis vel quam purus. Vestibulum gravida, mi in porta molestie, enim est gravida lorem, quis semper erat erat vel dui. Proin gravida nec sem ac laoreet. Nulla arcu urna, aliquet ut dolor in, consequat interdum enim. Suspendisse facilisis lobortis odio quis dapibus. Aenean iaculis vulputate tortor in scelerisque. Vivamus interdum mauris eu aliquam volutpat. Nulla aliquam est in purus tempor, non molestie est varius. Duis ac massa arcu. Nulla vitae vestibulum justo.

Curabitur rutrum turpis eget augue hendrerit pellentesque. Maecenas tellus neque, consectetur nec eleifend sed, mattis id velit. Suspendisse tincidunt nec velit a iaculis. Sed sit amet sollicitudin lorem. In hac habitasse platea dictumst. Fusce vel congue erat. Aliquam aliquam sed mi sit amet interdum. Nulla semper a nulla ut pretium. Donec non erat ligula. In hac habitasse platea dictumst.​
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  • Hiat’s Family


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    Mother - Deceased | Father - Deceased | Grandfather - Deceased



    Yuyan’s Family


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    Mother - Elderwood | Father - Elderwood



    Seymour Family


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    Mother - Bramblewood | Father - Bramblewood | Brother - Bramblewood




    Westhle’s Family


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    Mother - Elderwood | Father - Elderwood | Grandfather - Dogwood | Grandmother - Dogwood




 
809-biohazard-sign.png


I N F E C T E D

MARCH 2021

THE PAST



Nobody knew how it happened or where it even started, but that’s how the stories always goes, isn’t it? Yeah, that’s what everyone thought, too. It was just so fucking stereotypical like a cliché Hollywood zombie drama. Hell, some people even thought this was the equivalent of the Orson Welles’ 1938 War of the World’s Broadcast. No one wanted to believe it was happening. Except, the only reason the broadcasting stopped was because there was no one left to keep the transmissions going, and as the television screens went blank and the radio waves fell silent, it was evident this wasn’t one of those stupid hoaxes or misconstrued news stories. This was bloody real. They even refused to call them ‘zombies.’ Instead, the media labeled them ‘lurkers’ to prove how fucking real of a shitshow this was because just about every Goddamned person seemed to have been given a backstage pass to join the cast.
 
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: Navuso


  • G A M E P L A Y

    IMAGE GOES HERE​

    T H E F U T U R E


    Characters Types

    Loners
    Live outside of the main population. Not in towns or with the Greasers. Like their name suggests, they prefer to be along, hunt, travel, eat, sleep alone. There are a limited amount of these types seeing as traveling alone in this world is highly dangerous.
 
  • Bucket of Rainbows
Reactions: Navuso


Adrian


Nickname
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Species
Angler Ghoul, a time of ghoul that hides its true form in that of a human body. Given away by beady red eyes and sharp teeth, getting too close always proves fatal. Thanks to being hidden within a small human husk, the inky mass that Adrian truly is constantly broils and rolls beneath the surface, leaving him quaking with a slight tremor and a limp in his step.

Sexuality
Adrian's main focus is food, at all times. He's ravenous, never feeling quite full enough. It leaves all else to the back of his mind, even potential partners, not that anyone is exactly scrambling to sleep with the angler ghoul. Thanks to his never-ending search for food, and the general populace's lack of interest, it left Adrian not only inexperienced, but rather non-preferential. He doesn't really care one way or another.

Gender Identity
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Physical Description
-height
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-weight
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-body type
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-eye color
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-hair color (if applicable)
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-other descriptions
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Dietary Needs: (what and how your creature feeds)
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Natural Habitat
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Scent
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Personality
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Strengths
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Weaknesses
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History
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I EXIST TO LIVE, NOT LIVE TO EXIST



CHARACTER FILE

Name:
Antonio Lang

Age:
27

Gender:
Male

Class:
Greaser

Occupation:
Sentry

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

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

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

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

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

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

Weapons:
sniper rifle | 2 handguns | Hunting knife

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

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





STATUS BAR

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


 
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A Ghost Can Never Be Killed



CHARACTER FILE

Name:
Angelina Masrique

Age:
19

Gender:
Female

Class:
Loner

Occupation:
N/A

Personality:
Angelina, a.k.a. Ghost, doesn't mix well with others. She has a very dark view on things and prefers being alone to being in a group. She doesn't believe in any 'cause' or higher purpose. She doesn't believe thatthis was to 'purge' the earth either. All Ghost cares about is survival, so don't get in her way.

Background:
Ghost was born, Angelina Masrique, to a loving mother and father. She had an older brother that doted on her, but they weren't exactly your every day family. You see, Angelina's father, Edward, was convinced the world would end some day, that the worlds natural resources would run out. He wasn't wrong, then again, no one could have ever imagined it could possibly happen. So he prepped, and so did his family. Angelina was taught, beginning at the age of four, everything a person could know about surviving on your own. How to purify your own water from a river or rain water, how to scavenge and which fruits were non-lethal, how to build your own shelter, start a fire, first aid. Anything and everything one needed to know to survive and to protect oneself. Hand-to-hand combat was another thing Edward was enthralled with teaching. People were dangerous creatures when they were hungry, tired, scared. They turn into beasts and if you couldn't protect yourself, you were a sitting duck.

For the longest time Angelina resented her father. She just wanted to be normal, be like the other kids at school. That was nearly impossible when, instead of going to cheer practice after school, Angelina was thrown into the middle of the woods and told to make her way back home, always a different place than the last, further, darker, harder.

No one ever believed these skills were useful, no one except Edward. He had a bunker being built, a bunker that everyone and their mother rushed to when the world began to fall. He had food to last the family at least ten years, with rationing, running water and air filtration. It had taken years to build, but he did it. Edward made the safest place in America, but not even a doomsday prepper could be ready for the world to fall.

Virginia, her mother, and Dante, Angelina's brother, were out when it happened. When the world's reports on the severity of the situation were proven false. She wanted to go out, to find them, save them. Edward, instead, dragged himself and his daughter into the underground bunker, locking the outside world away.

Hate.

That's what Angelina felt for the man she called her father. Never before had she abhorred someones existence so strongly. They didn't speak, not even at dinner when the microwavable dishes were brought back to life with a little bit of water and heat. For four years the two didn't speak much, unless necessary. It was taking its toll on the older man, but Angelina couldn't forgive him for what he did. So she left. She had sat around long enough. He'd taught her how to survive out there on her own, so she decided to put them to good use. She couldn't sit around with him, with his cowardice any longer.

He begged her to stay, the bunker was safe, stable. It had food, water, light, everything a person could want in a time like this. But she couldn't. Angelina couldn't live with him, like this, any longer, with a man who let her mother and brother die without even trying to save him. So, she left, to fight through this mess of a world on her own. Angelina was on her third year now, and well, things could always be worse.

Family:
Mother- Virginia - Assumed Deceased [X]
Father - Edward - Alive
Brother - Dante - Assumed Deceased [X]

Goal:
Survive

Equipment:
Survival pack | first aid kit | 2 hunting knives | swiss army knife | bow and arrows | 2 9mm handguns

Weapons:
Bow + Arrow [Specialized] | Gun [Secondary] | Knife [Secondary]

Skills:
Survival [Expert] | Hand-to-hand combat [Advanced] | Hunting; Bow + Arrow [Advanced] | First Aid [Adept] | Firearms [Adept]

Miscellaneous:
Angelina sports quite a few special piercings and tattoos, mostly garnered after this shit show of a world she now called home. They came about here and there, occasionally finding shelter with small communities barely holding themselves together. They were few and far between however. On her forearm is an image of roses, parted by a blank nothingness that isn't seen much these days. On her back, trailing from her neck all the way down, the phases of the moon stand in stark contrast to her bronze skin. Three forward helix studs sit in her left ear, just two on the right, with regular lob piercings that came before the turmoil of today. She can almost always be seen sporting a black face mask, tying behind her head and covering her nose to mouth. It helps keep the lurker blood from her mouth if/when she needs to fight them.





STATUS BAR

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






I EXIST TO LIVE, NOT LIVE TO EXIST




CHARACTER FILE

Name:
Antonio Lang


Age:
27


Gender:
Male


Class:
Greaser


Occupation:
Sentry


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

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

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

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

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

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

Weapons:
sniper rifle | 2 handguns | Hunting knife

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

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






STATUS BAR

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


 
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