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Fandom ᴅᴇᴀᴅ ʙʏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛʜɪʀᴛᴇᴇɴᴛʜ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀꜱᴛ.

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lostbird

𝚓𝚊𝚍𝚎'𝚜 𝚐𝚏
Roleplay Availability
Roleplay Type(s)

  • N
    SERIES

    DEAD BY THE THIRTEENTH

    A horror and mystery roleplay based on Dead by Daylight's lore, premise, and locations with elements taken from the Friday the 13th game. JOIN OUR DISCORD SERVER HERE.

    TV-MA



    SEASON 1 EPISODES:
















NETFLIX
HOME
PLOT
ROLES
RULES




ADULT



 
a massive massive thank you to akeno akeno for allowing us to use their beautiful CS code for this rp! I could not imagine a more fitting character sheet than this 😭🫶 their talent is insane.

Code:
[comment] coded by akeno.

[font=Inter] hi [/font]

[font=Playfair Display] hi [/font]

[/comment][div=padding: 0; background:var(--bg); padding-top:40px; padding-bottom:40px; max-width: 100%; height:auto; overflow:hidden;  font-size:0px; display:block;



--bg:black;

--border: white;



--accent:black;

--a2: #8e9e93;



--blacktitle: black;

--text: white;



/* color accent on text */

--gg: #aebfb3;



--pic: url(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/dd/67/97/dd67971d934cd5c9ad01887b5486481e.jpg);

--pic2: url(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/9d/ce/a0/9dcea054669b6e112699288b54321f57.jpg);



--w: url('https://i.pinimg.com/564x/9d/ce/a0/9dcea054669b6e112699288b54321f57.jpg');

--v: url('https://i.pinimg.com/564x/9d/ce/a0/9dcea054669b6e112699288b54321f57.jpg');

--h: url('https://i.pinimg.com/564x/9d/ce/a0/9dcea054669b6e112699288b54321f57.jpg');



--name: 'Playfair Display';

--ww: 'Inter'; ]



/* --- base code --- */

[div=padding: 0; border:1px solid var(--border); width:clamp(320px, 40vw, 410px);  height:520px; overflow:hidden; display:block; margin:auto; opacity:0.9; display:flex; flex-flow:column wrap;]



[comment] /* --- picture on top here --- */ [/comment]

[div=height:100%; width:200%;scroll-snap-type:y mandatory; scroll-behavior: smooth; overflow-y:scroll;][div=height:auto; width:calc(50% + 9px);][div=height:0; width:100%; margin-bottom: -1px;][/div] [div=height:205px; width:100%; background: var(--pic); scroll-snap-align:start; background-size:cover; background-position:50% 50%;



-webkit-filter: grayscale(0.0) contrast(0.7) saturate(1.5);] [comment] --- filter on picture --- [/comment]



[div=width: 100%; height:fit-content;  font-size: 9px; text-align: left; position: sticky; padding: 2px 10px; top:-12px; color: var(--text); margin-bottom: -10px;]© akeno.[/div]



[comment] /* --- picture inside here --- */ [/comment]

[div=width:83%; margin: 20px auto; background:var(--pic) 70% 50%; background-size:cover; opacity:0.7; border:2px solid var(--border); height:80%;padding:0;display:flex;flex-flow:row nowrap;justify-content:center;align-items:center;position:relative;]



[comment] /* --- music --- */ [/comment]

[div=height:100%;width:60px;padding:0;display:flex;flex-flow:row nowrap;justify-content:center;align-items:center;font-size:20px;color:var(--text);position:relative; filter: saturate(0.2);][fa]fa-play[/fa]



[div=height:34px;width:34px;padding:0;box-sizing:border-box;display:flex;justify-content:center;align-items:center;overflow:hidden;position:absolute][comment]



-----------soundcloud option here -----------



[/comment][div=width:120px; height:90px; opacity:0.0001; transform:scale(0.6, 0.6);padding:0;position:absolute;top:-20px;left:-25px; ][comment]

 

--music link here (soundcloud)--

 

                    [/comment][media=soundcloud]https://soundcloud.com/toilaios/y-bi-n-nh-t-chi-l-u-li-n-b-n-g[/media][/div][/div][comment]





----------- end of soundcloud option -----------



[/comment][/div][/div][/div]



[div=height:fit-content; min-width:100px; box-sizing:border-box; border-top:1px solid var(--border); border-bottom:1px solid var(--border); padding:40px 15px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:100%; color: var(--text); text-align: center; font-family: var(--name); text-transform:uppercase; font-size:18px;]era goes here[/div]



[div=height:220px; width:100%; border-bottom:1px solid var(--border); box-sizing:border-box; display:flex; flex-flow: row wrap; overflow:hidden; position:relative;]



[div=height:100%; width:35%; box-sizing:border-box; border-right:1px solid var(--border);  padding:30px 15px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; background: var(--pic2); background-size:cover; background-position:60% 20%; -webkit-filter: grayscale(0.3) contrast(0.7) saturate(1.5);][/div]



[div=height:100%; width:65%; box-sizing:border-box;  padding: 10px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:140%; color: var(--text); text-align: left; font-family: var(--ww); font-size:10px; overflow:hidden;]FULL NAME.  given name

D.O.B. date of birth

P.O.B. place of birth

GENDER. gender & pronouns

SEXUALITY. sexual orientation if applicable

[div=width:124%; margin-left:-15px; margin-top:10px; margin-bottom: 10px; height:1px; background: #fff;][/div] ALIAS. example: the shape, the clown, the hag

ROLE. which perk are they?

SPECIES. are they a human, a cryptid, something spiritual, etc? elaborate further if necessary into their specific cultural origins if applicable[/div][/div]

[div=height:fit-content; min-width:100px; box-sizing:border-box; border-top:0 solid var(--border); border-bottom:1px solid var(--border); padding:30px 15px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:100%; color: var(--text); text-align: center; font-family: var(--name); text-transform:uppercase;

scroll-snap-align:end;





font-size:18px;]visage.[/div]



[comment] ---- three pictures here --- [/comment]



[div=height:145px; width:100%; padding:25px 23px; box-sizing:border-box; display:flex; flex-flow:row nowrap; position:relative;overflow:hidden;]

[div=height:100%; width:90px; flex:1; margin:0 5px; background: var(--w); background-size:cover; background-position:50% 50%; -webkit-filter: grayscale(0.5) contrast(0.8);][/div]

[div=height:100%; width:90px; flex:1; margin:0 5px; background: var(--v); background-size:cover; background-position:50% 50%; -webkit-filter: grayscale(0.5) contrast(0.8);][/div]

[div=height:100%; width:90px; flex:1; margin:0 5px; background: var(--h); background-size:cover; background-position:50% 50%; -webkit-filter: grayscale(0.5) contrast(0.8);][/div][/div]



[div=height:220px; width:100%; box-sizing:border-box; border-top:1px solid var(--border); border-bottom:1px solid var(--border); padding: 19px 23px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:140%; color: var(--text); text-align: justify; font-family: var(--ww); font-size:10px; overflow-y:scroll; scrollbar-width:none;] DESCRIPTION. describe their appearance emphasising any visual changes if they were once mortal and human, compared to what they appear as now. do they look different in a trial compared to existing in their realm (maybe influenced by the entity, or they simply appear different when hunting their prey?)



ATTIRE. what do they typically where? is it the outfit they were wearing when they were taken? it is the same as it would be in a trial?



WEAPON. what is their weapon of choice? example: cleaver, war fan, katana. with a brief description of what it might look like (pictures are fine).



FACE CLAIM. if applicable.



fill out the realm form on discord.[/div]





[div=height:85px; width:100%;  box-sizing:border-box; display:flex; flex-flow: row wrap; overflow:hidden; position:relative; scroll-snap-align:end;]

[div=height:85px; width:65%; overflow-y:scroll; scrollbar-width:none; box-sizing:border-box; background:var(--a2); padding: 12px 20px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:149%; color: var(--bg); text-align: justify; font-family: var(--ww); font-size:10px; overflow-x:hidden;][div=width: 100%; height:fit-content;  font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; position: sticky; padding: 2px 10px; top:-12px; background:var(--a2); color: black; margin-bottom: 0px;]LIKES.[/div] ─ list up to five likes.



[div=width: 100%; height:fit-content;  font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; position: sticky; padding: 2px 10px; top:-12px; background:var(--a2); color: var(--blacktitle); margin-bottom: -10px;]DISLIKES.[/div]

─ list up to five dislikes.



[div=width: 100%; height:fit-content;  font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; position: sticky; padding: 2px 10px; top:-12px; background:var(--a2); color: var(--blacktitle); margin-bottom: -10px;]HOBBIES.[/div]

─ did they have hobbies before? if not applicable, leave it blank.



[div=width: 100%; height:fit-content;  font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; position: sticky; padding: 2px 10px; top:-12px; background:var(--a2); color: var(--blacktitle); margin-bottom: -10px;]STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.[/div]

─ three strengths and weaknesses that would benefit or hinder them in a trial. example: (+) stamina: elaborate. (-) loud: elaborate.



[div=width: 100%; height:fit-content;  font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; position: sticky; padding: 2px 10px; top:-12px; background:var(--a2); color: var(--blacktitle); margin-bottom: -10px;]FEAR.[/div]

─ we all have fears, even the most ruthless of us. what's theirs?

[/div]

[div=height:85px; width:35%; box-sizing:border-box;  padding:30px 15px; box-sizing:border-box; border-left: 1px solid white; position:relative; line-height:100%; color: var(--text); text-align: center; font-family: var(--name); text-transform:uppercase; font-size:18px;]PSY.[/div] [/div]



[div=height:180px; width:100%; box-sizing:border-box; border-top:1px solid var(--border); scrollbar-width:none; border-bottom:1px solid var(--border); padding: 8px 13px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:140%; color: var(--text); text-align: justify; font-family: var(--ww); font-size:10px; overflow-y:scroll;] include from three to five virtues and vices. compare how they used to be (if they were once mortal) to how they are now, or how they were before the entity's influence if they've always been what they are now.

[/div]



[div=height:260px;scroll-snap-align:end; width:100%; border-bottom:1px solid var(--border); box-sizing:border-box; display:flex; flex-flow: row wrap; overflow:hidden; position:relative;]



[div=height:100%; width:65%;  box-sizing:border-box; display:flex; flex-flow: column wrap; overflow:; position:relative;]

[div=height:25%; width:100%; box-sizing:border-box;  padding:20px 15px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:100%; color: var(--text); text-align: center; font-family: var(--name); text-transform:uppercase; border-bottom:1px solid white; font-size:18px;]abc's[/div]

[div=height:180px; width:100%; box-sizing:border-box;  padding: 10px 20px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:140%; color: var(--text); text-align: justify; font-family: var(--ww); font-size:10px; overflow-y:scroll;scrollbar-width:none;]POWER.

what makes your killer special? powers can be as simple as the trappers "traps: catching people in bear traps", or like the spirit's "yamaoka's haunting: departing from her physical body for a time, phase-walking to sneak up on survivor's and catch them by surprise." it can be simple, but give it a title!



THE MORI.

if your killer was given the chance to kill a survivor, completely surpassing the need to cage and hunt your target for the entity, what would be their ideal mori?



BELONGINGS.

to be used as clues: this rp will include a mystery element. please list out at least five belongings that your killer would own to be found in rp for lore purposes? example: a shattered mirror (elaborate on the importance, doesn't have to be more than a sentence)

[/div][/div]

[div=height:100%; flex:1; width:35%; box-sizing:border-box; border-left:1px solid var(--border);  padding:30px 15px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; background: var(--h); background-size:cover; background-position:60% 20%; -webkit-filter: grayscale(0.3) contrast(0.7) saturate(1.5);][/div][/div]



[div=height:520px;scroll-snap-align:end; width:100%; box-sizing:border-box; overflow-x:hidden; scrollbar-width:none; padding: 0 20px 15px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:140%; color: var(--text); text-align: justify; font-family: var(--ww); font-size:10px; overflow-y:scroll;][div=width: 120%; height:fit-content; font-family: var(--name); font-size: 18px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; position: sticky; padding: 30px 20px 20px; top:-12px; margin-left:-35px;  background:black; color: white; margin-bottom: -10px;]HISTORY[/div]

BEFORE. what was their background? were they always troubled if at all, were they destined to become a killer, what were they known for before the entity sensed their killing potential?



THE SHIFT. how did the entity influence them into a 'corrupted one'? what major event caused the shift from what they once were, to what they are now? explain how the fog stole them from their life.



NOW. the trials have not started, they have only just been taken by the entity where the rp will start off - but how would they react and feel to this new life of theirs? would they be furious to bow to a higher being, stronger than themselves? would they be grateful for a place to satiate their bloodlust?

[/div][/div][/div][/div][/div]
Code:
[comment] coded by akeno.

[font=Inter] hi [/font]

[font=Playfair Display] hi [/font]

[/comment][div=padding: 0; background:var(--bg); padding-top:40px; padding-bottom:40px; max-width: 100%; height:auto; overflow:hidden;  font-size:0px; display:block;



--bg:black;

--border: white;



--accent:black;

--a2: #8e9e93;



--blacktitle: black;

--text: white;



/* color accent on text */

--gg: #aebfb3;



--pic: url(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/dd/67/97/dd67971d934cd5c9ad01887b5486481e.jpg);

--pic2: url(https://i.pinimg.com/564x/9d/ce/a0/9dcea054669b6e112699288b54321f57.jpg);



--w: url('https://i.pinimg.com/564x/9d/ce/a0/9dcea054669b6e112699288b54321f57.jpg');

--v: url('https://i.pinimg.com/564x/9d/ce/a0/9dcea054669b6e112699288b54321f57.jpg');

--h: url('https://i.pinimg.com/564x/9d/ce/a0/9dcea054669b6e112699288b54321f57.jpg');



--name: 'Playfair Display';

--ww: 'Inter'; ]



/* --- base code --- */

[div=padding: 0; border:1px solid var(--border); width:clamp(320px, 40vw, 410px);  height:520px; overflow:hidden; display:block; margin:auto; opacity:0.9; display:flex; flex-flow:column wrap;]



[comment] /* --- picture on top here --- */ [/comment]

[div=height:100%; width:200%;scroll-snap-type:y mandatory; scroll-behavior: smooth; overflow-y:scroll;][div=height:auto; width:calc(50% + 9px);][div=height:0; width:100%; margin-bottom: -1px;][/div] [div=height:205px; width:100%; background: var(--pic); scroll-snap-align:start; background-size:cover; background-position:50% 50%;



-webkit-filter: grayscale(0.0) contrast(0.7) saturate(1.5);] [comment] --- filter on picture --- [/comment]



[div=width: 100%; height:fit-content;  font-size: 9px; text-align: left; position: sticky; padding: 2px 10px; top:-12px; color: var(--text); margin-bottom: -10px;]© akeno.[/div]



[comment] /* --- picture inside here --- */ [/comment]

[div=width:83%; margin: 20px auto; background:var(--pic) 70% 50%; background-size:cover; opacity:0.7; border:2px solid var(--border); height:80%;padding:0;display:flex;flex-flow:row nowrap;justify-content:center;align-items:center;position:relative;]



[comment] /* --- music --- */ [/comment]

[div=height:100%;width:60px;padding:0;display:flex;flex-flow:row nowrap;justify-content:center;align-items:center;font-size:20px;color:var(--text);position:relative; filter: saturate(0.2);][fa]fa-play[/fa]



[div=height:34px;width:34px;padding:0;box-sizing:border-box;display:flex;justify-content:center;align-items:center;overflow:hidden;position:absolute][comment]



-----------soundcloud option here -----------



[/comment][div=width:120px; height:90px; opacity:0.0001; transform:scale(0.6, 0.6);padding:0;position:absolute;top:-20px;left:-25px; ][comment]

 

--music link here (soundcloud)--

 

                    [/comment][media=soundcloud]https://soundcloud.com/toilaios/y-bi-n-nh-t-chi-l-u-li-n-b-n-g[/media][/div][/div][comment]





----------- end of soundcloud option -----------



[/comment][/div][/div][/div]



[div=height:fit-content; min-width:100px; box-sizing:border-box; border-top:1px solid var(--border); border-bottom:1px solid var(--border); padding:40px 15px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:100%; color: var(--text); text-align: center; font-family: var(--name); text-transform:uppercase; font-size:18px;]era goes here[/div]



[div=height:220px; width:100%; border-bottom:1px solid var(--border); box-sizing:border-box; display:flex; flex-flow: row wrap; overflow:hidden; position:relative;]



[div=height:100%; width:35%; box-sizing:border-box; border-right:1px solid var(--border);  padding:30px 15px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; background: var(--pic2); background-size:cover; background-position:60% 20%; -webkit-filter: grayscale(0.3) contrast(0.7) saturate(1.5);][/div]



[div=height:100%; width:65%; box-sizing:border-box;  padding: 10px 10px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:140%; color: var(--text); text-align: left; font-family: var(--ww); font-size:10px; overflow:hidden;]FULL NAME.  given name

D.O.B. date of birth

P.O.B. place of birth

GENDER. gender & pronouns

SEXUALITY. sexual orientation

[div=width:124%; margin-left:-15px; margin-top:10px; margin-bottom: 10px; height:1px; background: #fff;][/div]

OCCUPATION. were they a student or working?

SKILLS. how will their skills translate into the role of choice.

ROLE. which perk are they?[/div][/div]

[div=height:fit-content; min-width:100px; box-sizing:border-box; border-top:0 solid var(--border); border-bottom:1px solid var(--border); padding:30px 15px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:100%; color: var(--text); text-align: center; font-family: var(--name); text-transform:uppercase;

scroll-snap-align:end;





font-size:18px;]visage.[/div]



[comment] ---- three pictures here --- [/comment]



[div=height:145px; width:100%; padding:25px 23px; box-sizing:border-box; display:flex; flex-flow:row nowrap; position:relative;overflow:hidden;]

[div=height:100%; width:90px; flex:1; margin:0 5px; background: var(--w); background-size:cover; background-position:50% 50%; -webkit-filter: grayscale(0.5) contrast(0.8);][/div]

[div=height:100%; width:90px; flex:1; margin:0 5px; background: var(--v); background-size:cover; background-position:50% 50%; -webkit-filter: grayscale(0.5) contrast(0.8);][/div]

[div=height:100%; width:90px; flex:1; margin:0 5px; background: var(--h); background-size:cover; background-position:50% 50%; -webkit-filter: grayscale(0.5) contrast(0.8);][/div][/div]



[div=height:220px; width:100%; box-sizing:border-box; border-top:1px solid var(--border); border-bottom:1px solid var(--border); padding: 19px 23px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:140%; color: var(--text); text-align: justify; font-family: var(--ww); font-size:10px; overflow-y:scroll; scrollbar-width:none;] DESCRIPTION. describe their basic appearance.



ATTIRE. what do they typically where? is it the outfit they were wearing when they were taken? it is the same as it would be in a trial?



FACE CLAIM.[/div]





[div=height:85px; width:100%;  box-sizing:border-box; display:flex; flex-flow: row wrap; overflow:hidden; position:relative; scroll-snap-align:end;]

[div=height:85px; width:65%; overflow-y:scroll; scrollbar-width:none; box-sizing:border-box; background:var(--a2); padding: 12px 20px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:149%; color: var(--bg); text-align: justify; font-family: var(--ww); font-size:10px; overflow-x:hidden;][div=width: 100%; height:fit-content;  font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; position: sticky; padding: 2px 10px; top:-12px; background:var(--a2); color: black; margin-bottom: 0px;]LIKES.[/div] ─ list up to five likes.



[div=width: 100%; height:fit-content;  font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; position: sticky; padding: 2px 10px; top:-12px; background:var(--a2); color: var(--blacktitle); margin-bottom: -10px;]DISLIKES.[/div]

─ list up to five dislikes.



[div=width: 100%; height:fit-content;  font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; position: sticky; padding: 2px 10px; top:-12px; background:var(--a2); color: var(--blacktitle); margin-bottom: -10px;]HOBBIES.[/div]

─ did they have hobbies before?



[div=width: 100%; height:fit-content;  font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; position: sticky; padding: 2px 10px; top:-12px; background:var(--a2); color: var(--blacktitle); margin-bottom: -10px;]STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.[/div]

─ three strengths and weaknesses that would benefit or hinder them in a trial. example: (+) stamina: elaborate. (-) loud: elaborate.



[div=width: 100%; height:fit-content;  font-size: 10px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: left; position: sticky; padding: 2px 10px; top:-12px; background:var(--a2); color: var(--blacktitle); margin-bottom: -10px;]FEAR.[/div]

─ the entity likely picked up on this when they got close to the fog, what are they most afraid of?

[/div]

[div=height:85px; width:35%; box-sizing:border-box;  padding:30px 15px; box-sizing:border-box; border-left: 1px solid white; position:relative; line-height:100%; color: var(--text); text-align: center; font-family: var(--name); text-transform:uppercase; font-size:18px;]PSY.[/div] [/div]



[div=height:180px; width:100%; box-sizing:border-box; border-top:1px solid var(--border); scrollbar-width:none; border-bottom:1px solid var(--border); padding: 8px 13px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:140%; color: var(--text); text-align: justify; font-family: var(--ww); font-size:10px; overflow-y:scroll;] include from three to five virtues and vices. elaborate on how they would be with other survivors - if they're stubborn, how would they deal with trials? if they're afraid, how would they deal with their fear?

[/div]



[div=height:260px;scroll-snap-align:end; width:100%; border-bottom:1px solid var(--border); box-sizing:border-box; display:flex; flex-flow: row wrap; overflow:hidden; position:relative;]



[div=height:100%; width:65%;  box-sizing:border-box; display:flex; flex-flow: column wrap; overflow:; position:relative;]

[div=height:25%; width:100%; box-sizing:border-box;  padding:20px 15px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:100%; color: var(--text); text-align: center; font-family: var(--name); text-transform:uppercase; border-bottom:1px solid white; font-size:18px;]abc's[/div]

[div=height:180px; width:100%; box-sizing:border-box;  padding: 10px 20px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:140%; color: var(--text); text-align: justify; font-family: var(--ww); font-size:10px; overflow-y:scroll;scrollbar-width:none;]BELONGINGS.

to be used as clues: this rp will include a mystery element. please list out at least five belongings that your survivor would own to be found in rp for lore purposes? example: a family photo (elaborate on the importance, doesn't have to be more than a sentence)

[/div][/div]

[div=height:100%; flex:1; width:35%; box-sizing:border-box; border-left:1px solid var(--border);  padding:30px 15px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; background: var(--h); background-size:cover; background-position:60% 20%; -webkit-filter: grayscale(0.3) contrast(0.7) saturate(1.5);][/div][/div]



[div=height:520px;scroll-snap-align:end; width:100%; box-sizing:border-box; overflow-x:hidden; scrollbar-width:none; padding: 0 20px 15px; box-sizing:border-box; position:relative; line-height:140%; color: var(--text); text-align: justify; font-family: var(--ww); font-size:10px; overflow-y:scroll;][div=width: 120%; height:fit-content; font-family: var(--name); font-size: 18px; text-transform: uppercase; text-align: center; position: sticky; padding: 30px 20px 20px; top:-12px; margin-left:-35px;  background:black; color: white; margin-bottom: -10px;]HISTORY[/div]

BEFORE. what was their childhood and background like growing up?



THE FOG. what were they doing, where were they, when they stumbled upon a corrupted area and were taken by the fog?



NOW. the trials have not started, they have only just been taken by the entity where the rp will start off - but how would they react and feel to this new life of theirs?

[/div][/div][/div][/div][/div]

RESERVED ROLES
SURVIVOR: Ace In The Hole, Built To Last, Object of Obsession, Spine Chill, Technician, and Wake Up!
KILLER: Friends 'Til The End, Floods of Rage, Remember Me, Save The Best For Last, Starstruck, and Thanatophobia

ALL OTHER ROLES CAN BE APPLIED FOR AND ARE AVAILABLE, DO NOT FEEL DISCOURAGED ABOUT OTHER PLACEHOLDERS! THIS IS NOT FIRST COME, FIRST SERVE 🫶
 
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    © akeno.










    2024






    FULL NAME. greta waverly
    D.O.B. sep 30, 1993 (thirty-one).
    P.O.B. juneau, alaska
    GENDER. she / her
    SEXUALITY. heterosexual

    OCCUPATION. mortuary assistant
    SKILLS. attention to detail, work autonomously, and organisation.
    ROLE. spine chill

    visage.









    DESCRIPTION. greta's heart shaped face sports soft features; a compact and straight nose, round brown eyes, straight eyebrows and thin, but delicate lips. dark brunette hair, almost appearing black, rests at her shoulders with natural defined waves, and curtain bangs framing her facial features. she didn't typically wear make-up as her job found it an interference ─ bending over a corpse with loose eyeshadow powder falling onto the cadavers body was considered disrespectful.

    ATTIRE. greta primarily wore outdoorsy styled clothing, suitable for the alaskan climate and her family of hikers, leading her to be in constant possession of her navy blue parka. with no need to don shorts, greta opted for either jeans or cargo pants paired with a turtleneck. once she started her job in the morgue, she began detesting the feel of turtlenecks — it constricted her neck too tightly, making it hard to swallow the pit of nerves gathering in her throat. she tossed out over a dozen pairs much to her mothers objection and replaced the offending clothing with button ups, resting the oval shaped collars over a loose fitting sweater with a colour palette consisting of dark and cold hues. on the day she was taken, greta was sporting gray denim jeans, a loose-fitted navy sweater and a beige corduroy jacket topped off with white tennis shoes.

    FACE CLAIM. mary elizabeth winstead




    LIKES.
    the dark. ironically, greta finds peace in the darkness ─ she fears most what lurks within, yes. but if she cannot see for herself, then... out of sight, out of mind.
    documentaries. there's safety to be found in knowledge. armed with information, greta is as much of a skeptic as she is scaredy cat; a thirst for information based not on broadening her mind, rather for quietening the anxiety that swims through her nervous system.
    cold weather. more specifically, her parka; accustomed to the climate of alaska, greta enjoys the warmth her clothing provides.
    tea. when unemployed, she spent a great deal of her day formulating different mixtures of herbs to create a variety of teas meant for different moods... she had a lot of spare time, clearly.
    comfortable silences. noise can be too much; obnoxious sounds, people speaking to fill in silences, and the blood roaring through her ears when greta starts becoming overwhelmed... sometimes she'd rather hear her own heartbeat ─ not alone, but in the presence of another.

    DISLIKES.

    ─ her job. with the job market suffering and dwindling mental health, greta had no choice but to accept the offer as a mortuary assistant. her qualifications in allied health instantly landed her the position and hates it with every fibre of her being.
    ─ the unknown. her brain fills in the blanks of what she doesn't know as fact, leaving a very poor impression on how greta perceives her surroundings and mysteries.
    ─ spirituality. in tandem with greta's curious mind, with no concrete proof ─ she simply cannot believe it.
    ─ hiking. roped into hikes with her family, greta hated it. she was forced to juggle conversation, controlling her breathing the higher they climbed, and watching her footing ─ and surroundings.
    ─ feeling stagnant. unemployment was driving greta into an early grave. with nothing to stimulate her mind and long boring days, she felt her mental health slipping beyond return ─ perceiving the simplest of things into something wholly uncanny.

    HOBBIES.

    ─ tea brewing. greta almost mastered the art during her unemployment of concocting all manners of tea. not a believer necessarily in the 'properties' of each one in relation to others' moods, more so content with how much focus and time-filling the activity is.

    STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.

    (+) hyperfocus. focusing on the task at hand comes natural and even when fearful, greta can swallow down the lump in her throat and push through.
    trial: benefitted by her ability to fixate on an objective, it can become a fifty/fifty scenario: able to lock in and finish repairs, even in the presence of a killer, or her fear will overcome her, becoming her new fixation and she'll flee, focused only on staying unseen.
    (+) stamina. hiking the alaskan wilderness has paid off, even if greta participated under duress. with her family home up in the mountains and away from the city centre, greta went to painstaking lengths to not attend family hikes, fearful of the native wildlife and twisting trails potentially leading to a sudden drop off a cliff.
    trial: in spite of her disdain for hiking, greta has benefitted from muscle strength and an increased lung capacity. able to hold her breath should a killer search for her lurking in the area or make a quick getaway when their backs are turned.
    (+) intelligent. book smarts and street smarts; greta has a flexible mind, soaking up information like a sponge. it helps to guard against her desire of assuming the absolute worst in any given situation, by seeking knowledge when possible to make sense of the demons in her head. despite her intelligence, when faced with the inconceivable, greta will throw skepticism out of the window and give in to terror.
    trial: a quick learner, greta ─ so long as she can strengthen her resolve ─ will be fast to pick up on what side objectives need to be done, where items typically are, and especially the most concealed spots to seek refuge in.
    (-) paranoid. her job at the mortuary did little to quell her uneasiness for the uncanny. feeling the human body not supported by muscles but deflated, skin dipping into the chest cavity... inserting an eye cap under the lid to maintain the natural curve of the eye, as opposed to the collapsed appearance through decomposition. greta simply suffers from a vivid imagination, only exaggerated by her time as a mortuary assistant.
    trial: as a result of her fear for seeing something horrific, of her terror locking her in place ─ greta, more often than not, will listen to her gut instinct to run and hide.
    (-) neurotic. obsessive over what frightens her the most; greta has a hard time maintaining a strong-mindset. it depends on her environment. at home, in what she knows is safety, greta's mind relaxes with familiarity. on the journey to work alone, she becomes tense and agitated.
    trial: greta's mental state deteriorates in a record time, reverting to become mentally unstable when faced with real terror. there's no reasoning with her, almost zero chance of convincing her of her illogical mindset, and absolutely no possible reason to suspect she'd put others before herself.
    (-) timid. reserved and to herself, greta doesn't seek companionship. in fact, she prefers to be alone. not one to be assertive, greta would rather watch and observe, calculating her actions for the best possible outcome.
    trial: easily frightened and lily-livered, greta won't be much help in a make or break scenario. if faced with an impossible choice and no time to weigh pros and cons, she may simply stand there ─ unmoving, and of accepting her fate.

    FEAR.

    ─ most things. particularly, what greta cannot understand; the uncanny.

    PSY.


    [content warning: body horror]

    independent to a fault, greta prefers to work and be alone ─ by no means is she not a team player, but she'd sooner handle a project on her own before reaching out to others for assistance. born from her studies for allied health, it was preferable to be reliable on your own skillset rather than taking others away from their work. during her transition into a mortuary assistant, her mentor most notably requested her silence and observation skills to be put to work, not to ask monotonous questions that would be answered through practical displays.
    now: the ideal person to put on objectives ─ not for her aptitude with mechanics and engineering (for which she has none, but she is a quick learner,) but for her ability to remain focused on the task at hand and ability to stay quiet if a killer strays too close. in fact, if greta is able to swallow her fear and not run for the hills, sometimes the impending danger can force her to work harder and faster, finishing the necessary repairs in a killers face.

    greta harbours a forgiving nature; while she may not always be quick to understand a persons motives, she dislikes jumping to conclusions without all the facts before her. she supposes that comes from her love of documentaries, entire stories that may seem black and white and simplified are so complex under the surface after peeling back layer after layer, with all the truth laid bare.
    now: towards her team, she's unlikely to hold grudges; for her cowardice, her actions will be unforgiving. her struggles with forgiveness rests with killers ─ at odds with the knowledge of their own 'kidnapping', taken to the fog and forced to compete in these trials, but struggling with her fear of their malicious practices. greta has seen the aftermath of victims, how their bodies decay as a result of the trauma inflicted upon them; tending to outweigh her forgiving nature.

    rather intuitive, greta might believe herself concealing a sixth sense. it feels like prickles along her back, the way her cat 'salem's spine would stand on end when spooked by her shadow, or confronted with a sudden predator in the form of a dog on its morning walk, miles away from their front door. that intuition plagued her the most at her job, alarming her as she opened a storage door and was met with the stench of death; nothing was right about the way human bodies festered and sunk.
    now: greta's intuition activates her flight or freeze instincts; rendering her frozen to the spot ─ and if she's repairing something, all the better ─ or fleeing from said repair, taking refuge in the closest thing to total darkness.

    greta will readily own up to any of her faults, and especially her actions. it's a waste of her time and patience to not be honest, to make excuses when she's wronged someone else; though it takes a lot of her dwindling courage to do so.
    now: she would find it in her best interest to be honest with other survivors about her behaviour in trials when called upon, but she would likely not willingly venture the information unless pressed for it.

    unsurprisingly, greta is cowardly. her anxious mind moves too quick for logic and reasoning to keep up with, believing the coat hanger is the silhouette of a person in the right lighting. it's harmless, in her day to day life, inflated only when she's at her job in the mortuary ─ bodies in contorted positions, lacerations so deep it reveals a glimpse of bone. the hair on the back of her neck stands on end, but her cowardice was her burden to bear.
    now: her burden has spread to be everyone else's problem. guilt only comes afterwards, after the trial is said and done and she either walks through the fog back to the campfire, a survivor ─ or her cowardice gets them all killed, waking up in her bedroll as if it were all a terrible dream and yet still feeling the pain of death. wracked with guilt, greta will face the music for her actions, but overcoming her flight or freeze response will be a tumultuous journey.

    untrusting, she struggles to believe others have her best interests at heart because in her eyes, she looks out for number one: that's her. she tends to be secretive as a result of her distrust in others, playing her cards close to her chest and unwilling to open up, to give anyone a part of herself so easily. greta, by no means, had a hard life ─ nothing that wasn't her own making, and still she prefers to be a private person.
    now: her secretive nature will result in her being perceived as quiet, perhaps even shy. an unwillingness to connect with other survivors beyond the common ground of their precarious situation. and with her tendency to run and hide, greta will never expect others to put themselves on the line for her safety.

    borderline neurotic in her fear, greta is obsessive. her mind easily becomes consumed by frightening scenarios, plagued with anxieties of what if's and what's that. her obsessive delusions began to manifest once she accepted the position at the morgue, the first time she saw a corpse sit up on its own accord (the advanced decomposition causing the muscles to flex and contract), when she was placing eye caps into a cadaver and it groaned beneath her hands (built up oxygen being expelled from the lungs), when she adjusted the position of the bodies' leg and her hand returned with a thick layer of skin where it had sloughed off the ankle.
    now: most killers will frighten greta, but her obsessive nature will hone in on the killers that were once human ─ turned monstrous, deformed; resembling the human body but disturbingly altered.

    ironically, despite greta's thirst for knowledge and her intelligent streak ─ she's weak-minded. easily overcome by her base terrors and emotions, quick to make rash and impatient decisions as a result if lacking the necessary information.
    now: it takes a heavy toll on greta within trials, any determination to survive and complete objectives overruled by her mind's tendency to overthink. her usual quiet and subdued nature taken advantage of, her emotions elevate into something frantic and hopeless.





    abc's

    BELONGINGS.
    i.d. tag. greta smiles timidly in the photo, when her hair was long and the tips brushed her hips. 'mortuary assistant' is printed below her full name, dated june 4th 2024.
    embalming report. cadaver profile for a victim of one of the killer's.
    disposable gloves. bloodied nitrile gloves, from the first time greta donned them for her first cadaver. the dark blue material is covered in blood and other fluids; when greta had accidentally pressed too hard on the bodies chest and it collapsed, her hand falling clean through the chest cavity.
    cat collar. salem's pumpkin orange collar, the bell taking the shape of a small ghost.
    notebook. where greta scribbled down notes for every body that came through the morgue, jotting down the specifics: name, identifying marks, personal reflections, and likely cause of death.
    scissors. from when she cut her hair, after the corpse had taken a vice like grip of it.



    HISTORY

    [content warning: body horror]

    BEFORE. greta waverly was born into a family of seven, herself being the youngest. juneau, alaska was known for its tourism and her family capitalised on that, running bear viewing tours from may to september with her father working around cruise ship tourism and her mother for the everyday expedition with locals or visitors from across the country. excursions required long hikes, with tours lasting six to seven hours in total, and greta was subjected to hiking through the alaskan mountains every. single. week. but as the youngest of the waverly family, greta was given the luxury of deviating from the family business and dove headfirst into studying allied health, interested in diagnosing and treating conditions; fresh out of high-school, greta attended university at her earliest opportunity and graciously residing on campus through her studies, welcoming the reprieve of constant walks through the harsh wilderness.

    by her mid-twenties, greta landed a job as an occupational therapist at the local community centre. it was more than fulfilling, assisting vulnerable people develop treatment plans and recover from unfortunate situations ─ so much more important than bear tours; she did not envy her siblings that were expected to carry on the business, but greta did resent them to a degree for not following their own path in life. especially as family events became tense, with comments about greta being 'too good for family business', and 'clearly doesn't want to be around her family' were thrown around the dinner table, or as whispers in extended families ears. "she must think we're brutes," her father elbowed her aunt, shaking his head in dismay. "chasing after bears in the woods while she massages kneecaps." with a roll of her eyes, she left early and resentment bloomed in her chest.

    then covid-19 ruined her almost picture-perfect life. as the economy was blasted in their small city in alaska, greta was forced to quit her job and move back into her family home, around people her mentality simply no longer aligned with. subjected to passive-aggressive comments in forced close proximity, greta felt her forgiving nature slip completely when it came to almost every single member of her family. she threw herself into staying busy; picking up the hobby of tea-making and more importantly... adopting a cat. salem, her black ragdoll cat, quickly became her favourite family member. he lazily spread across the countertops as she measured tea leaves and boiled water to the perfect temperature, finding her blood pressure began to lower the more he blinked his yellow eyes in her direction, captivated by her movements.

    THE FOG. life returned in the knick of time. suffering from cabin fever and mounting pressure from her family to at least partake in their usual hikes, greta found herself becoming stir-crazy; grounded only when holding salem after a long, monotonous, boring day of nothing at all. occupational therapy wouldn't be coming back anytime soon, with the community centre being converted into a makeshift hospital ─ the space needed for more beds to assist covid patients. so, against her better judgment, greta accepted a the position as a mortuary assistant at the morgue.

    on her first day, greta had her picture taken for an i.d. tag in which she sported a weak smile, nervous at the prospects of being in proximity to the dead. she shadowed her mentor, keeping silent at his request ─ "watch and learn." easier said than done, as she so desperately wanted to know the purpose of 'setting the features', but she was a quick learner. in no time, greta was faced with her very own cadaver: an elderly man, someone ─ finally ─ who hadn't died from complications with covid, but of natural causes. she jots down identifying marks and is listing his name on the clipboard when her fingers tense, a muscle spasming from her tight grip, and her pen drops unceremoniously to the floor. she bends down to retrieve it, shoulder knocking into the deceaseds mans arm it flops off the table, resting at the elbow and just as she's about to stand up and reposition his arm, his hand takes hold of her hair in a vice-like grip, so tight she screams and screams.

    her mentor rushed in to help and she stares at him, wide-eyed and frightened beyond belief. what the fuck was that? and he explains: "it doesn't happen often, but muscles contract and expand even in death. don't be surprised if you come in tomorrow and he's sitting upright." he leaves greta standing there in disbelief, gaping at the strands of her hair still clasped in their bony grasp. that night, she stood before the bathroom mirror with a pair of scissors and began to snip away at the length, with a shuddering breath and bloodshot eyes.

    and almost every cadaver after that, greta was dealt a hand that pushed her closer and closer towards a cliffs edge. the time she transported a middle-aged woman and stored her in the mortuary chamber, only to fall backwards in shock as desperate muffled thumps sound from within. the time greta washed down a body, taking great care to clean the skin, only for the cadavers leg to jerk so ferociously that she sported a black half-circle under her eye for the next three weeks. and her first murder victim ─ transported from overseas under special circumstances, where greta was finally confronted with the horrifying truth of humanity, what depraved people are capable of. unable to swallow the lump in her throat, greta swiftly left to empty her lunch into the nearest trash can.

    on the fateful day, greta worked late ─ her choice, as tourism still had not bounced back and her father became increasingly more insistent on her dropping her newest job, disgusted she'd rather clean corpses than observe wildlife. no overtime pay, but it was worth every second she didn't spend in her families presence. taking her time, greta methodically cleaned the mortuary and hummed a song under her breath, the newest coping mechanism she discovered was a necessity if she were to continue working in an ever-changing environment, with each new body taking a year off her own life.

    she heads into the morgue to flick off the lights after she'd changed back into her everyday clothes when she notices a chamber door wide open, hauntingly oppressive. "um, steve?" she stammers out, unable to tear her gaze off the door ─ images of something crawling, slithering, lunging from the yawning darkness flood her mind. "steve, did you forget─!" another door slams open, swift and sudden. fucking get out of here. her brain tries to warn her, to advise her of the correct and right thing to do, but her feet stay firmly planted in place, too afraid to turn her back and give what ever the fuck is in there an opening. but she'd lose her job if she left the mortuary chamber doors wide open and she needed it to be away from the suffocation awaiting her at home.

    timidly, greta puts one foot in front of the other, her heart pounds harder with every step. threatening to break her ribcage. stood before the open door, she waits ─ half-expecting for her end to come, for the monster inside to punish her for her hubris of simply approaching it. nothing happens and she breathes a sigh of relief, exasperated with her minds ability to frighten her. she braces her hand on one side and starts pushing with her other to seal the chamber, when black mist billows out and envelops her wrist ─ she freezes, rooted in spot and simply watching as the fog licks at her skin, and then pulls her inside.

    NOW. greta's eyes peel open to find herself at a... campfire? she's on the forest floor, her palms pressed into damp leaves and grass. blinking to adjust her eyes to the sudden darkness, only illuminated by the campfire, greta glances around to see she's not alone ─ a thought that frightens her even more.
 
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    © akeno.




















    1959












    FULL NAME. Cyrus Cain; it will be remembered.
    D.O.B. August 5th, 1917; forty-two years old, nothing but a background operator for the stars.
    P.O.B. California, Los Angeles; it's a free for all.
    GENDER. Cisgender, He/Him pronouns.
    SEXUALITY. Heterosexual; but that never stopped him before.
    ALIAS. The Host; your trusted liaison as events unfold. Would you like a hand?
    ROLE. Friends 'Til The End; where's the fun in playing fair? Why, not him of course!
    SPECIES. Human; until he wasn't—resurrection is a bitch.

    visage.


















    DESCRIPTION. There's always been something undeniably alluring about Cyrus and his enigmatic aura. He doesn't naturally stand out in a crowd, with his average Joe appearance and brooding complexion. Yet, it's precisely this unassuming presence that has gotten him where he is in life—his warm demeanor effortlessly wins people over in the end.

    Cyrus has a strong jawline, occasionally some faint stubble, though he usually goes for a clean-shaven look, just one day deciding that he didn't want to appear as rugged and intimidating as he naturally does. His deep green eyes can sometimes seem darker than usual, a feature most people miss unless you are one of his victims. Standing proudly at 5'7", Cyrus has a lean, slightly muscular build, but it never did dull the blow from colleagues in the same business practice from calling him 'a small bean pole.' His hair is typically dark brown and often kept at medium length. He discovered that slicking it back gives him a much more polished yet sophisticated look, but he also enjoys keeping it tousled for a more laid-back vibe that makes him approachable.

    IN THE FOG: Being brought back to life came with a few small blessings, the biggest being that he was, well—alive. Upon arriving through the fog, Cyrus didn't catch on straight away to his new appearance. He felt good—really good—his head in place and his limbs intact. However, it didn't take long for him to discover the truth about the new look he was sporting: his hair appeared green, the right side of his face was heavily scarred, jagged lines running from his lower chin to his hairline, as if inflicted by shards of glass. His right eye, still green, appeared much cloudier, almost as if it were blind, despite his vision remaining clear. "That isn't a face for showbiz anymore," something whispered to him, the voice a distorted version of his own. "It will feel good, being whole again." Cyrus found himself back in the wardrobe department, the lights bright and the crowd cheering in the background. Everything looked the same—the paint, the colors, all perfectly in place as before. The light in the room shone on him like a beacon, and that's exactly what he became. He took a seat in front of the mirror, picked up the paintbrush, and glided white paint across his face, his canvas—created to please the entity. It was Halloween, after all, right?

    ATTIRE. STAGE ONE: BUSINESS ATTIRE. A showman is what Cyrus is, and he’ll always proudly claim that title. Although he works in the background, creating stars, it doesn’t stop him from expressing himself through his fashion sense. Bright colors define Cyrus—bold hues that somehow always work for him. While he’s passionate about his outfit choices, Cyrus knows how to tone down his eccentric persona when needed. He understands that being too bold with his fashion can make others feel weirded out or even threatened by his demeanor, so he carefully balances his style with subtlety when the situation calls for it.

    STAGE TWO: FAMILIAR & WARM. Otherwise known as his attire for his killings, Cyrus wasn’t one to hide. He preferred outlandish colors and bold prints, using different textures to highlight his creativity and uniqueness. But once night fell in Los Angeles, it was a free-for-all for him to do as he pleased. Muted tones became his go-to after dark—long coats that appeared larger than his usual fit, darker trousers, and sometimes even a hat for his little outings. Cyrus wasn't opposed to dressing in warmer outfits either. A knitted, homely-looking sweater paired with dark jeans gave him a more laid-back appearance, allowing him to blend in if he needed to. He could even dress up for a night at a bar, playing whatever part the situation called for. This is to show that Cyrus was willing to take all sorts of risks and considerations for the opportunity that the night provided.

    STAGE THREE: THE SUIT. At forty-two years old, Cyrus had come to terms with the possibility that he might not be destined for television stardom. He was even content with the idea of remaining a producer for the rest of his life—though deep down, he still longed for the recognition he knew he deserved. The entrepreneur created nothing but stars, shows, and movies that earned at least millions, thanks to his ideas and influence behind the scenes. After all, he just wanted a little taste of the spotlight—the heat of the lights shining above him, the wave of cheers and laughter from the crowd before him. He actually hungered for it, for people to finally put a face to his name. Although Cyrus wasn’t much of a believer, he had an inkling notion that someone was listening to his prayers—because his moment finally came.

    'For a special occasion' was the intent purpose of the suit, marked by two sticky notes on the clear plastic cover. One read 'Just do it,' accompanied by a hastily scribbled drawing of a gun, while the other declared, 'Today's Your Day,' but honestly, who was he kidding? When you're him, every day is your day! Luckily, it was the latter. The suit consists of a deep auburn red jacket with wide lapels, the matching trousers high-waisted and slightly flared; he was going for a theatrical appearance, looking like one of the stars he produced. Underneath the suit was a bright yellow vest, the contrast clashing with the darker tone of the suit. Colors of green are layered over the dress shirt's collar, completing the ensemble as a whole.

    "How do I look? Been saving this one."

    "You kind of look like a clown,"
    Cyrus was in the wardrobe department behind the stage, he could faintly make out the crowd going wild. Was the cheering for him? "Eccentric, little bit cartoonish— but we can work with it. If—"

    "If?"


    The man before him, a fellow producer, offered a warm smile—a technique Cyrus knew all too well: a trickster blinded by his own tricks. "If you're okay with playing a little skit," the man said, wrapping an arm around Cyrus's shoulders and steering him toward a stand lined with various palettes of face paint and makeup.

    "It's Halloween, after all. The reveal that it’s you underneath will be even sweeter."

    WEAPON. ESTABLISHED MORE IN THE POWER SECTION!

    FACE CLAIM. Joaquin Phoenix.

    fill out the realm form on discord.




    LIKES.
    smoking. there's something about a cigarette in cyrus' hand that makes him feel at peace, even powerful. his job wasn't something he considered stressful; his smoking habit stemmed more from boredom rather from anxiety.
    aesthetics. cyrus has a keen eye for creativity and truly admires anything that catches his attention. whether it's a nicely decorated room or someone in a clean-cut suit, you have his attention and appreciation.
    bar games. has a knack for card games, especially poker. the bars in his area have grown in popularity over the years, bringing in cocktail parties and games like darts and even pool down the street, though cyrus is terrible at the latter and much rather take part of complex card games where he has better control of his expressions.
    wine. whether it's red or white, it's something easy for cyrus to down after a long day of work.
    music. it's something cyrus wishes he had a creative outlet for, including painting. he has a strong knowledge of colors and how they compliment each other, but painting what he sees in front of him or even by memory? not a chance. it's a reason why he has tremendous respect for those who are talented with musical instruments. the sound of strings growing louder in a gradual crescendo never fail to give him goosebumps.

    DISLIKES.

    absolute fucking boredom. when cyrus is in a "funk," he isn't pleasant to be around at all. he's more impatient, often seen pacing around with an itch he can't seem to scratch. unfortunately he is someone who needs the constant stimulation, and if he isn't getting it from anyone─he'll find a way to get it himself.
    naivety. cyrus has no respect for people who are naive. he personally marks them down as weak-minded and someone that's easy to manipulate which brings him a brief sense of enjoyment when tormenting, but only for a moment. he often ends up feeling more sorry for them than feeling satisfied at the end of the day.
    writer's block. lack of creativity is a bitch and it's something that even cyrus is a victim of.
    no sense of humor. no one likes a person who lacks a sense of humor, and cyrus is no exception. it's best to remember to steer clear when a joke doesn't land—you wouldn't want to end up like the last person who made him feel embarrassed over a failed punchline.
    radio. worked in radio until he found the proper medium to express oneself. to up his career, cyrus knew that leaving would be for the best and that's exactly what he did. it wasn't long before his old co-workers started talking behind his back. now, cyrus is just petty and holds a strong resentment toward anything related to radio. "get with the times," he'd often say, offering his business card, "you're looking at the future, kid."

    HOBBIES.

    journaling. a man has many hobbies, and this is one of cyrus' more recent ones. in his journal, pages are filled with dates and years of familiar names of missing people. from a distance, it might seem innocent—almost as if cyrus is trying to draw a connection between the missing people in los angeles. however, upon closer inspection, you'll notice missing pages, words crossed out, harshly ripped out.

    STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.

    ─ (+) adaptable. in show business, adaptability was standard; a must to change with the ever-flowing stream of media and the challenges it came with. further shown in cyrus' ability to transition from radio to television, rebuilding his audience and reshaping his image, a trait he'd happily keep around in any lifetime.
    ─ (+) awareness. cyrus is aware of the role he must play and that's exactly what he'll do if it means pleasing the entity. with a total disregard for obsessions, instead choosing to give his attention to someone of his own choosing, cyrus has an awareness of all survivors in the trial as a result.
    ─ (+) imaginative. innovation is something that is greatly overlooked in business, money being seen as something to value more rather than talent much to his disappointment. perhaps if they had given him the credit he was due sooner, he wouldn't have needed to expel his creative energy onto his victims.
    ─ (-) dependent. cyrus is often described as a man of many talents, known for his hard work and dedication. whenever he took charge of a project, he gave it his all, making it his top priority. people at the company relied on him to bring fresh ideas to the table and his leadership was vital to the team's success. his sense of responsibility as a boss played a significant role in his approach to work, it's possibly the reason why it's so difficult for him to relinquish control during trials and allow someone else to take the reins. he is used to people depending on him, but the idea of relying on someone—or something—else terrifies him.
    ─ (-) greed. coming from the life cyrus had in his youth, it's no wonder why he is as greedy as he is today. this shows through his envy of others with a connection to the entity. blinded by complete tunnel vision, cyrus intends to get those survivors out of the trial as soon as possible, to cement his place as the entity's favorite.
    ─ (-) undisciplined. being the favorite comes with perks, accompanied by certain drawbacks. rules are lost on cyrus, used to getting his way in life by any means and the entity has continued the trend, allowing cyrus to push its own boundaries.

    FEAR.

    leaving the fog. cyrus knows he died in the 50s. he's fully aware that a television fell on his head—in front of hundreds, mind you—and that he's more famously known for his death than for being a producer who launched countless stars and created timeless entertainment. so yeah, the thought of leaving the fog, where he's very much alive, freaks him out.


    PSY.




    ─ (+) charismatic. naturally so, cyrus' assertive nature is masked under a humorous drawl, a witty remark, and an award-winning smile. it was easy for him to turn on the charm and become who he needs to be given the situation he finds himself. that charisma may not be wholly appreciated by survivors in a trial, more disturbed by his joyous approach to the whole affair, but the entity clearly had been won over and honestly─his friends come first.
    ─ (+) meticulous. the practice of show business required an affinity for being detail-oriented, strict and thorough in research and stretching ones imagination to translate from script or mind to the screen. cyrus also extended this preciseness to his victims: an opportunistic killer often couldn't plan for such an event when selecting his prey for the evening, relying on his ability to think on his feet, improvise, and not leave evidence behind. sloppy kills made for a pathetic end to ones career in murder, and cyrus was not in the market of losing everything he built for himself over an outlet for his aggression.
    ─ (+) self-reliant. other people in the business cyrus had involved himself in simply did not live up to par. their ideas were stale, useless. sales and viewership weren't cyrus' endgame, just a very fortunate added benefit, no─it came down to providing something worth watching, his show living up to the expectations of his high standards and as such, he learned to rely on himself and his own creative gene. now, quite unfortunately, cyrus' reliance has expanded to include the entity. you didn't become the entity's favourite without reaping the benefits, and cyrus will quickly learn to appreciate the ways the entity chooses to assist in a trial.
    ─ (+) spontaneous. thinking on his feet was paramount in the industry of show business, and murder. on a slow week of creative ideas from his fellow industry workers, cyrus often had to pick up the slack and pull a fascinating concept from thin air. for his victims, well─he hated to be repetitive. not only to cover his tracks, as he would be a lot harder to catch if kept a certain spontaneity with his methods, but for the act of killing to stay fun, entertaining, worthwhile.

    ─ (-) hubris. with a successful life such as his, who could blame cyrus' arrogance? that hubris propelled him above others in life, understanding his natural gifted talent for radio, for television, to win over an audience through his creative spark─it was expected. welcomed, cyrus believes, by the entity. the pretentious attitude he holds in high-esteem is derived from success, even if he lacked the credit he was due.
    ─ (-) selfish. sharing simply is not in the cards for cyrus; sharing credit, well─ask his victims, and see where that got them. it's not something he would ever complain about, having a sick sense of thrill knowing in his own mind what he brought to the program, that it was his creativity the audiences were eating up like a bottomless bucket of popcorn. though, at night, cyrus couldn't fight the itch. to take out his frustrations on unsuspecting people that were in the wrong place, at the wrong time. it was carefully crafted by cyrus, truly, to not have a 'victim profile' and act on opportunity. his acts of murder was an outlet, he didn't mind not receiving credit for those─he had a show to run. now, in the trials, that itch has returned in full force, unable to accept that the entity is sharing its gift of power with others, with survivors no less.
    ─ (-) lavish. cyrus enjoyed a lifestyle of extravagance, with a taste for the finer things in life. the most expensive whisky at his local bar. the tailored chanel suits. the push for colored television at his network, believing his program─of all programs─deserved to be seen in full color, not limited to black and white. he believes the entity shares his thought process, allowing him full access to the televisions from his studio, to watch the memories of his life in all its glory, in color.
    ─ (-) merciful. harboring a certain belief system, cyrus knew when to be merciful and when to be ruthless. he was all about positive reinforcement, to encourage those at his studio to embrace his ideas and spit out the mid concepts in their brain, for the purpose of making them more. in trials, cyrus extends this towards survivors that give him a helping hand. their life, for those of their team─if he has a particular animosity to one, he'll happily walk the survivor willing to throw them under the metaphorical bus to the nearest exit, allowing them to leave.










    abc's


    POWER.
    need a hand?. the ability to draw a killer's main weapon from the entity.
    cyrus, with his deep connection to the entity, can tap into the dark, mysterious power of the void. this allows him to reach through the television screen and manifest a weapon directly from the void itself. the screen warps as his hand passes through, the static crackling around his arm, and from within, he pulls out a shadowy, otherworldly weapon—an extension of the void’s will. whether it’s a glass shard (the doll & chairman) or a altar cross (the nun), the weapon hums with eerie energy, a whole new purpose possessing the host to handle the weapon with intense care and respect. the entity's influence flows through it, empowering his every strike.
    limitation: will have to be near a tv for this to work out in his favor, especially since he is coming into the trial weaponless.

    technical difficulties. the side objective: around the realm there will be various television sets scattered around the trial (roughly 8-11) for the survivors to either hide (out of mind, out of sight) or simply break. the tv will be on, making a soft signal for the host to pick up on. to save time, the survivor can quickly turn off the television for the host to avoid retrieving the weapon but should the host turn his own television on in the presence of a survivor, the entity's claw will come out and instantly strike the survivor, dragging them to the cage without cyrus' need to take them there himself.
    (example: if lux mckenna destroyed a television receiver by herself, then the shaman's weapon would not spawn for cyrus to use during the trial. if a group of two destroyed the television set together than it would be a game of chance between the two of which weapon wouldn't spawn for the host to use.)

    THE MORI.
    lost signal.
    after a hard earned mori, the host would happily pull out at least 3 or 4 weapons out of the television screen, dealing the blows directly to their body. each weapon would be lodged in different areas of the survivors body, turning them into a pin cushion. once they've suffered sufficiently in the hosts eyes, he will seal their fate with how he went out; a tv being dropped on to their head. (oops?)

    BELONGINGS.
    shattered tv. a destroyed television head with spider cracks all over the face of the tv, otherwise known as the object that ultimately ended cyrus' life on television. you can faintly make out old blood with slight smearing of face paint on the front.
    journal booklet. the missing pages of documented murders that happened around los angeles. the ripped pages contain details of what was done to the victims, what was kept as a trophy, etc. please return to owner.
    half used face paint. otherwise known as 'the make up' he put on that fateful night. the colors are: white, red, blue and green.
    business card. various cards for different people cyrus interacted with throughout his life. titles on the cards: producer, agent, executor, and showrunner. all cards were signed with 'c.c' in the center.
    fred dollard's name tag. the man who, in a way, caused cyrus to break his own moral code: no premeditated killings. and this one, in fact, was intentional.






    HISTORY


    BEFORE. [tw: sickness (lupis), murder, non-descriptive gore.]
    Cyrus’ life was considerably unremarkable up until the death of his mother. Grown up in a disenfranchised community, it was no surprise that his mother couldn’t afford to seek medical assistance for the onslaught of seizures she began to experience—Lupus, ‘the cruel mystery’ of autoimmune diseases had taken his mother slowly, and she had kept a secret from her own son. A shame. He had just started making a name for himself in Los Angeles on his radio show, decent earnings and a decent apartment; quite was frivolous, simply consisting of him rattling about his days and reading the newspapers, adding his own two cents to each topic.

    Though it was not lost on him the potential her death created—grief and death was something people of all walks of life could relate to. His audience might hear his sorrow, the forlornness in the story of his mothers’ poor end in life due to a failing healthcare system, but it could never compare to the sight of a broken man. Radio was not the proper medium to express oneself, television was the answer.

    Life was more complicated on the television screen compared to a microphone in his dingy studio down the block from his apartment. His story, apparently, was ‘a dime a dozen’. If Cyrus were a lesser man, he supposed it would’ve deterred him from the realm of entertainment altogether—but he was nothing if not self-reliant. His twenties were spent diligently, putting his hand in most areas of the industry: film, television, even sitcoms. Before long his skills were sought out as an agent for aspiring talents, finally landing him where he felt most suited: a producer.

    Again, complicating the picture he envisioned for himself. Where was the sense in that the people he trained, who went on camera to form a single expression and deliver a sentence—with the very affliction Cyrus painstakingly taught them for hours a day—were winning the most coveted awards in the state? Their faces plastered on posters, on magazines, in advertisements…and all Cyrus had in return was his measly, albeit professional, name in the credits? It simply wouldn't do, Cyrus decided as he stalked his set, watched his actors deliver the performance of a lifetime—a delivery he had shown them in the dressing room, a copy of his own creation. With a lifetime of pent up aggression and frustration, Cyrus turned to what made the most sense at the time in the state of California: murder.

    THE SHIFT. If there was one thing Cyrus found himself not needing credit for, it was the acts of his killings. Having learned a great deal from failed serial killers in years past, Cyrus decided on three rules to always abide by—first: no victim profile. If there were no connections between each victim, all of them different from the other, then police would have a hard time plausibly linking the victims together. Second: never plan ahead, opportunistic killings only. He never schemed or planned ahead of time. Crimes of opportunity were far less likely to be solved, especially in tandem with an absence of a victim profile. Besides, it was more fun that way—even he was kept on his toes! And third: switch up the manner of death. If he killed someone from blunt force trauma with a hammer from his toolbox one night, the next he’d wedge a knife into their throat—or, push them onto the railway tracks (though he preferred a more personal, intimate killing). Police were sure to be scratching their heads at the random number of bodies that began to accumulate, none of them pointing to the direct source: Cyrus Cain. And for once, he was perfectly content with no recognition for his work in that capacity.

    Rules were meant to be broken. Picking up a coffee before heading to set for the morning, Cyrus Cain found himself staring into the eyes of a man—Fred Dollard, according to his nametag—that was far too appealing to be working behind a counter. Turning on his usually well received charm, his charisma oozing into the practiced words, he cracks a joke that fails to land…and when he turns to take a seat by the unwashed window, mug in hand, he stews long and hard over the complicated feelings roaring dangerously inside him. It simply wouldn't do, Cyrus thinks again, as he does at every pivotal turning point in his life. It was a humbling experience he refused to dwell on, an offense he couldn’t allow to go unpunished. Avoiding his work for the day, Cyrus waited until Fred Dollard had finished his shift and followed him home, an apartment block eerily close to his own. He waited by a nearby bar well into the evening until Fred left his home, simply watching as he headed off the beaten path and Cyrus saw his opportunity to strike. The following day, Cyrus personally believed he had dodged a bullet—even in death, they weren’t really talked about. Just one little column in the paper that read: Mugging Gone Wrong.

    Soon thereafter, a fascinating opportunity landed in his hands—to introduce color to his television program. Pulling a lot of strings and moving around a substantial amount of money, Cyrus was now the host of one of the few television programs that permanently used color. The success was not short-lived, experiencing a rapid growth in viewership and audience retention. His name, while known, quickly became a household one, and Cyrus was promptly invited to a popular late night show network to introduce himself in front of a live studio audience, in color, and share his story.

    Refusing to mess up this opportunity, Cyrus put a halt to his usual midnight routine, not wanting to risk unwanted attention coming to his door. Time moved quickly, and before he knew it, Halloween had arrived, the anticipation building like static in the air. Today felt different. Today was different. While confidence usually carried him through the day, this morning was charged with unspoken energy. He spent the morning like any other: a cold shower, a comb through his hair, and a dark coffee in hand. Then he left home with a spring in his step. The only thing different about Cyrus this time was the auburn suit he wore—specifically saved for a day like this. Halloween might have been a day for tricks, but Cyrus was here for the treat.

    The building’s interior was nothing special, but the purpose of the visit was far more important, at least according to himself. He was given a brief tour, his dark eyes absorbing the behind-the-scenes details. It didn’t take long before he was introduced to a fellow producer. The introduction was clipped but professional, and unfortunately, Cyrus was too far gone to notice the subtle signs. His suit was complimented—jokingly described as cartoonish—followed by the suggestion that it could work. Then, an offer was made.

    Cyrus stared at his reflection in the mirror, a faint smile almost gone, though his eyes remained bright. Do a skit, they said. He could still feel the ghost of their hand on his arm as they guided him deeper into the wardrobe department. It’s Halloween, after all. The idea was for him to walk on stage, dressed as a clown, on live television. The reveal that it’s you underneath will be even sweeter. Outside, he could faintly hear the sound of clapping, the ticking of the clock growing louder. His eyes locked onto the various makeup and face paint options and then turned to the paintbrush and thought, It simply wouldn't do, and got to work.

    As Cyrus was called out onto the stage, a rush of emotions surged through him. His mother’s passing, the misplaced credit, the killings—everything suddenly felt justified. The past didn’t matter anymore; only the present did. Standing front and center, microphone in hand, Cyrus was in awe, overwhelmed by the sound of the crowd. They were cheering, laughing, clapping loudly—his name being shouted back at him. The lights were blinding and addicting, and he soaked it all in.

    Ever observant, Cyrus noticed a few audience members staring way up towards the ceiling wide-eyed, startled expressions. Their shock didn't faze him one bit. They could try, he thought, but no one was going to take this moment away from me.

    Cyrus could bask in the sound for hours, the atmosphere wrapping around him like a warm embrace. A chuckle escaped into the microphone as he raised a hand, trying to gesture the crowd to quiet down, though secretly savoring every second of their adoration.

    "It'll do, everyone, please! That'll do—"

    NOW. Cyrus Cain died on October 31st, 1959, on live television. The episode aired in color, and what a sight it made. But this is information he learns much later on. Instead—

    Air sucks into his lungs, intense as if it were a vacuum. At first, Cyrus thinks he’s staring straight into the void of a television screen. Bits and pieces of glass shattered on the pitch black recently polished floor of the studio. Then his vision clears, revealing the familiar night sky of Los Angeles—the one right above the city block he frequented by so often. He recalls faintly the feeling of adrenaline coursing through but now, everything felt...dull, like a switch was off.

    Cyrus woke on his back and cautiously sat up into a more fitting position, the feeling of nothing concerning him a little. Curiously, he drew his hand to the back of his head, everything feeling intact before pulling his hand away to see the residue of green makeup and what seemed like red—until he realized he had blood on his fingers. Weird, he thought, I feel absolutely nothing.

    In fact, Cyrus physically felt incredible, but when it came to pinpointing how he emotionally felt, well, it seemed that department was closed. Putting a pin in his thoughts, he slowly drew himself to stand, brushing off the flecks of what appeared to be dust collecting on his suit, unaware that he was smudging something else entirely on the fabric. It didn't take long for Cyrus to see the bigger picture though: he was very much still at what appeared to be the studio talk show, just with minor little errors he picked up on—like the obvious dent in the floorboard and the blood spreading around as if embracing the leftover figure.
 
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    © akeno.










    1998






    FULL NAME. cyra nicole ashford
    D.O.B. feburary 2nd, 1973
    P.O.B. los angeles, california
    GENDER. female, she/her
    SEXUALITY. bisexual

    OCCUPATION. professional figure skater.
    SKILLS. high endurance, she’s very fast and light on her feet, extremely flexible, great at hiding her true intentions, highly competitive, adaptable, resilient, thick skin
    ROLE. ace in the hole; the entity seems to favor her

    visage.









    DESCRIPTION.
    cyra has always been the type of woman who's presence demands attention. years of rigorous training have given her a slender, athletic frame, with an air of poised confidence and effortless elegance. her long neck and graceful posture add to her statuesque presence, making her seem taller than she is, with a fluidity to her movements that suggests she’s completely in tune with her body making her a sight to behold. her skin is warm and radiant, with a bronze sun-kissed glow that catches the light and emphasizes her smooth complexion. her deep, expressive brown eyes are captivating, framed by long, thick lashes that draw you in with their subtle, soulful gaze. they often seem to be analyzing everything, and everyone around her as if she's assessing them.

    her hair, a cascade of rich, dark curls, flows effortlessly down her back. cyra could often be found with her hair tied back into a tight bun as she practiced or performed. off the ice, however, her hair was typically kept in it's naturally curly state and would be worn loosely, giving her poor locks the break her hair often needed from being pinned down.

    cyra has always been described as having angelic and ethereal beauty with her square face, high cheekbones, and defined jawline that give her features a sculpted, almost regal appearance. her lips are full and are often glossed or painted with soft hues as she has never been one who enjoyed wearing heavy makeup- only tolerating it for her performances. it is very rare that cyra ever smiles when she is not performing but when she does her smile has been known to light up a room with it's warmth.

    there’s a quiet magnetism to the way she carries herself, a combination of elegance and self-assurance that turns heads without effort. whether dressed casually in a simple tee and jeans or donning her fancy leotard, skirt and skates, cyra wears her clothes with the ease of someone who’s comfortable in her own skin. she has a natural ability to blend strength with softness, her aura both approachable and commanding, making her presence impossible to ignore.

    ATTIRE.
    cyra's figure skating outfits during performances would be sleek, glamorous, and designed for maximum movement. she would wear form-fitting, bedazzled leotards or dress in rich jewel tones like deep purples, emerald greens, or icy blues that would stand out against her rich skin. the bodice would be adorned with rhinestones, sequins, or beads, reflecting her preference for eye-catching sparkle, while still retaining an athletic air that allowed her to her execute jumps, spins, and footwork without the fear of being weighed down. she would alternate between leotards with long sleeves or ones that were sleeveless depending on the program and mood she wanted to convey to her audience, while her skirt would be short and layered, flaring out as she spun or threw herself into the air.

    her outfit would be paired with nude tights and classic white figure skates, custom-made to fit her feet perfectly, and always polished to perfection. cyra was always very meticulous when it came to her skates. her hair would be styled neatly, often in a high bun, braid, or sleek ponytail, often adorned with a coordinating scrunchie or decorative hair clip—both popular accessories in the 90s. her makeup would be performance-ready, with bold lipstick shades and eye makeup that pops under the bright lights of the rink.

    off the rink, her clothing style would reflect a casual yet chic vibe. cyra would typically be seen in high-waisted, wide-leg jeans or sleek, fitted track pants. she loved to wear crop tops or fitted baby tees and her tops would often be in bright colors, bold prints, or even subtle metallics. in the heat of california wearing minimal clothing was essential to making sure she didn't overheat but that still never stopped cyra from layering her clothes from time to time. she’d toss on a lightweight, oversized denim jacket or a stylish windbreaker with a color-blocked design, a zip-up hoodie or a sleek, fitted leather jacket as cyra often loved to blend her love for urban fashion with her active lifestyle.

    when it came to shoes she often wore chunky platform sandals, classic white sneakers, or trendy wedges. she would wear a pair of thin, gold hoop earrings, layered necklaces, and a tote bag to keep all her necessities in. on sunny days, she’d sport a pair of small oval sunglasses with tinted lenses to keep the sun from blinding her.

    when cyra was taken by the entity she was dressed in a baby tee, a pair of low waisted track pants, a zip up hoodie, and plain sneakers. her attire at the time seemed more gloomy than the bright colors she typically adorned due to the depression she had felt at the time before she was snatched away.


    FACE CLAIM. zendaya coleman




    LIKES.
    ❤︎ figure skating/dancing. this is self explanatory. cyra has been skating since she was a young girl, figure skating was practically her entire life. for cyra dancing was more than just a sport it was an outlet, it was who she was as a person.
    ❤︎ pigeons. she's always loved birds but pigeons stole cyra's heart at an early age. perhaps it was due to the negative association around them. her love for pigeons only grew as she got older and learned that the real reason pigeons are so reliant on humans was that they were tamed by humans before being discarded. that very same day cyra adopted a pigeon.
    ❤︎ puzzles. even though puzzles can be time consuming and frustrating when you can't figure out what pieces go where cyra has always found them to be fun and challenging.
    ❤︎ the sea. living in los angeles and being so close to the sea cyra would sometimes go to the beach just to relax and watch the waves.
    ❤︎ music. cyra has always found solace in music, using it as a way to express emotions she couldn’t put into words. during her figure skating career, music was the heartbeat of her routines, guiding her movements and allowing her to tell stories on the ice.
    ❤︎ tea. she always starts her day with a warm drink. coffee made her to jittery and she hated how bitter it seemed to taste no matter the amount of creamer and sugar she put into it. tea is more welcoming on her tongue and she appreciates the different variety available.
    ❤︎ the cold. despite living in a city as hot as los angeles cyra has always had an affinity for the cold. growing up on the ice, she found the crisp, icy air calming, almost like a second home. the cold sharpens her focus and reminds her of the quiet solitude she used to feel during early morning practices when it was just her and the rink. For cyra, the cold represents discipline, clarity, and the freedom she felt when skating, gliding effortlessly across frozen surfaces, untouched by the outside world.

    DISLIKES.

    losing. while her hatred for losing mainly comes from her heavily competitive nature it's also due to the fact that in the world of figure skating, every win came with blood, sweat, and tears, and every loss felt intensely personal and for cyra who constantly faced backlash from those around her as well as unfair treatment from judges due to the color of her skin she often was forced to wonder if her loss came from her own mistakes or was caused by racists not wanting to see her succeed. each loss reminded her of the barriers she had to break through just to be seen as an equal. for cyra, losing isn’t just about the failure itself, it’s the fear of everything she’s sacrificed and worked hard for being in vain.
    feeling suffocated. cyra hates feeling suffocated because it reminds her of the times in her life when she felt trapped both physically and emotionally. after her injury, she experienced a deep sense of confinement, as her body that was once her source of freedom and expression on the rink, became a limitation for cyra. the sensation of being restricted brings back that feeling of helplessness she experienced during her recovery. emotionally, she has always valued independence and freedom, so feeling suffocated strips her of the control she fought so hard to reclaim.
    being looked down upon. something she’s faced throughout her life, particularly in the world of figure skating, where she was often underestimated for being black. from a young age, she had to work twice as hard to prove herself in a sport dominated by racial bias and preconceived notions about who belonged on the ice. every dismissive look, every condescending remark only fueled her determination to rise above it, but the sting of being undervalued never fully faded. for cyra, being looked down upon isn’t just an insult it’s a reminder of the unfair challenges she’s had to overcome, and she refuses to let anyone diminish her worth or capabilities.
    small talk. cyra hates small talk because it feels superficial and empty to her, especially after all she’s been through. having faced significant challenges in her life—racial prejudice, a near career-ending injury, and the crushing weight of lost dreams—she values deeper, more meaningful conversations. for her, small talk lacks substance and wastes time that could be spent building genuine connections or discussing things that truly matter.
    being patronized. cyra strongly dislikes being spoken down to or treated as if she’s incapable, especially after fighting for recognition throughout her life and career.

    HOBBIES.

    volunteering. growing up, she learned the importance of giving back, especially as someone who had to overcome numerous challenges in her own life. volunteering allows her to connect with and support others, particularly young athletes or those facing adversity, giving them the encouragement she often lacked during her own career. it’s also a way for her to stay grounded and shift her focus from her own struggles to helping others overcome theirs. through volunteering, cyra finds meaning, knowing she can make a difference in someone else's life.
    rock climbing. as someone who lived in a bustling city with a busy life it was often nice for her to get out, breath fresh air, and be one with nature.
    journaling. cyra kept journals throughout ever stage of her life. it was another way for her to express her feelings in a healthy manner.
    cooking. with a mother who worked as a private chef some of cyra's best memories growing up were of her helping her mother make dinner and special meals in the kitchen. while cyra won't claim to be as skilled as her mother her food is still pretty good and she enjoys cooking for those she cares about.

    STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.

    ─ (+) stamina and endurance - cyra has been an athlete all her life. her body has been trained for years to handle throwing herself in the air, doing tricks, and flips all while looking as if it was effortless. she is able to exert herself for hours and even when she feels tired there's always still more she has left to give before she has to call it quits.
    ─ (+) resilience - cyra has extremely tough skin and a natural affinity to never back down from a challenge. no matter what gets thrown at her she won't let it break her spirit or get the best of her.
    ─ (+) agility - cyra’s agility is one of her most remarkable strengths, shaped by years of dedication to figure skating. her fluid, graceful movements are a testament to her exceptional physical prowess and refined control. she is able to navigate through tight spaces and give killers a run for their money.
    (+) luck - recovering from an injury that would be the end of most athlete's careers there's no shred of doubt that cyra could be seen as a very lucky girl. this luck has transitioned over into the trials as the entity for whatever reason seems to favor her.

    ─ (-)
    her knee - despite the fact that her knee is doing a lot better than it was when cyra first injured it her knee still wasn't one hundred percent healed when the entity snatched her away. now when she over exerts her self her knee will begin to ache and slow her down. this lingering injury can exacerbate her challenges during high-intensity moments, such as evading the killer or navigating treacherous terrain. the constant strain on her knee can lead to fatigue and increased pain, forcing her to be more cautious and deliberate in her movements.
    ─ (-) untrusting and selfish - cyra has always held her heart close to her chest. she is not someone who trusts others easily. with this she will often times put herself and her own life over the lives of others if it means she'll make it out alive in the end.
    ─ (-)
    difficulty in asking for help - her deep-rooted independence and self-reliance make it challenging for her to reach out for support, even when it's crucial. This reluctance stems from her belief that relying on others might make her vulnerable or compromise her autonomy. in a trial, this weakness means that cyra often struggles to accept assistance from fellow survivors, even when their help could be vital to overcoming obstacles or escaping perilous situations. her inability to seek or accept support can lead to missed opportunities for collaboration and increase her risk of failure, as she attempts to handle everything on her own despite the potential benefits of teamwork.


    FEAR.

    ─ being forgotten. she's worked her whole life to make a name for herself it has to have been worth it in the end, right?


    PSY.


    include from three to five virtues and vices. elaborate on how they would be with other survivors - if they're stubborn, how would they deal with trials? if they're afraid, how would they deal with their fear?

    (+) resilient. forged through years of battling against adversity both on and off the ice. cyra was raised to have extremely tough skin and her ability to remain steadfast and determined, despite the challenges she faces, is a testament to her inner strength and emotional fortitude. having navigated the harsh realities of discrimination in her figure skating career, cyra developed a remarkable mental toughness that allows her to confront fears and pressures with unyielding resolve. it is nearly impossible to break her spirit.
    in trials enables her to bounce back quickly from setbacks, whether it’s a failed attempt at an objective or a near-capture by the killer. this resilience is evident in her relentless determination to keep moving forward, regardless of the obstacles she faces. when things go awry, cyra doesn’t crumble under pressure instead, she uses her experiences to adapt and strategize, maintaining a steady focus on her goal of survival. her resilience allows her to recover from injuries or mishaps with a quick recovery, ready to tackle the next challenge with renewed vigor. this unyielding spirit ensures that, no matter how dire the situation becomes, cyra remains a formidable survivor.


    (+) ambitious. cyra's ambition has always driven her to reach for greatness, both as a performer and in her personal life. from a young age, she set her sights on breaking barriers in a sport where she often stood alone, determined to prove her talent despite facing backlash from those who wanted her to fail. her ambition pushed her to constantly improve, perfecting her routines with relentless dedication and striving for excellence in every competition. cyra's desire to succeed wasn't just about winning medals—it was about challenging the status quo and opening doors for others like her.
    in trials even after being taken by the entity, that ambition fuels her desire to survive, driving her to outlast every challenge with the same tenacity she carried with her everyday before her life was stolen from her. cyra is not content with simply surviving; she is determined to rise above her circumstances and make her mark, no matter the odds.

    (+) responsible. cyra is responsible because her figure skating career instilled a strong sense of discipline and accountability in her from a young age. she learned that success in her field required dedication, punctuality, and a commitment to constant improvement. the challenges she faced—especially navigating racial prejudice and later running her own business—taught her the importance of taking control of her life and actions. whether it was pushing through intense training sessions or managing the expectations placed on her, cyra always understood that her efforts directly impacted her future. In her daily life, she continues to carry this responsibility, ensuring she not only meets her own standards but also supports those around her with the same care and reliability.
    in trials. her responsibility will mean that cyra can be a trusted figure who will set out to complete objectives and do so in a reliable fashion.

    (+) hard-working. never being one to half-ass anything regardless of what it is cyra is hardworking girl because she’s always believed that nothing worth having comes without effort. from a young age, she learned that success wasn’t just handed to her—she had to earn it through persistence and determination. life has thrown her more than a few challenges, but instead of backing down, she’s always tackled them head-on, knowing that giving up isn’t an option. whether it's navigating difficult situations or helping others, cyra puts her all into everything she does. she’s never been one to shy away from hard work, because for her, the struggle makes the reward all the more meaningful. her determination to push through setbacks, no matter how tough, is what defines her as a person.
    in trials cyra’s hardworking tendencies make her a formidable survivor in a trial. her resilience and determination mean she never gives up, even when the odds seem impossible. in a trial, she’d be the one constantly on the move, repairing generators with laser focus and staying alert to any dangers. she’d push through exhaustion, keeping calm under pressure, knowing that every second counts.

    (+) independent. fiercely independent because she’s never wanted to rely on anyone else to define her path. growing up, she quickly realized that if she wanted something done, she’d have to do it herself. whether it was overcoming personal hurdles or fighting against the expectations and biases of others, she learned that depending on others could lead to disappointment or frustration. in her eyes it was a dog eat dog world and she wouldn't always have her parents to stand up for her. instead, she embraced her independence, knowing that her success and survival were in her own hands. this mindset developed early, as cyra understood that life wasn’t always fair, and waiting for someone else to come through for her wasn’t an option. she took pride in solving her own problems, learning to trust her instincts and build the resilience she needed to face whatever came her way. relying on herself gave her a sense of control and freedom that she valued above all else, and she wasn’t willing to compromise that for anything or anyone. even in situations where others might seek help, cyra has always preferred to handle things alone, knowing she can count on her own strength, focus, and perseverance. it's not that she doesn’t appreciate others—she just knows that at the end of the day, her own drive and hard work are what have carried her through life’s toughest challenges. her independence has been her shield, making her someone who faces the world head-on, without needing anyone else to pave the way for.
    in trials she wouldn’t wait around for help or depend on others to save her. from the moment the trial begins, she’d be focused and driven, immediately heading to repair generators or search for tools, confident in her ability to handle things on her own. if injured or in danger, she’d rely on her knowledge of the environment and her quick thinking to stay ahead of the killer, using stealth and speed to evade capture without needing backup. her independence would also make her less likely to rely on teammates for healing or guidance. while she will support her team, cyra’s biggest comfort is knowing she can rely on herself above all else.

    (-) competitive. cyra's competitive spirit runs deep, a driving force that has fueled her passion and perseverance throughout her life. from her early days on the ice, she thrived on the challenge of pushing herself beyond her limits, constantly striving to outdo her previous performances and make her mark in a demanding sport. there was also a unyielding need to prove to those who looked down on her or thought that she didn't belong that they were wrong. every competition was not just an opportunity to win but a chance to test her abilities against the best and prove her worth. this fierce competitiveness isn't just about being the best—it's about proving to herself that she can rise above any challenge.
    in trials cyra’s competitive edge is unwavering. she approaches each encounter with the same intensity and drive, determined to outsmart her opponents and secure her survival. she refuses to let killers or the entity get one over on her. no matter how many times they kill her or lock her away she'll never stop until she wins in the end.

    (-) untrusting. throughout her career as a figure skater, cyra faced not only the intense scrutiny of competition but also the sting of prejudice and betrayal. these experiences made her cautious, knowing that trust was a luxury she couldn't afford easily. trust can be a double-edged sword in a place where deception and danger are constant. her guarded approach isn't just about protecting herself it's about preserving her sense of self and ensuring she doesn’t get caught off guard. every interaction is approached with a careful scrutiny, as she’s learned the hard way that true intentions aren't always clear. for cyra, trust must be earned, and until then, she navigates her world with a intense sense of caution and a watchful eye.
    in trials she will be constantly assessing the intentions of those around her, leading her to be cautious about forming alliances and hesitant to engage in collaborative efforts without first evaluating the reliability of her fellow survivors. this suspicion extends to every aspect of the trial; she remains on high alert, keenly aware of her surroundings and any potential threats.


    (-) stubborn. a hallmark of her character, shaped by years of defying expectations and pushing through adversity. once she sets her mind to something, there’s no swaying her; her determination is as unyielding as the ice she once skated upon. even as a child whenever cyra decided she wanted to do something she'd do it and if someone told her she couldn't do it she'd turn around and do it purely out of spite. this resolute spirit means she’s not easily discouraged by setbacks or obstacles, no matter how daunting they may be. cyra’s refusal to back down reflects her deep-seated belief in her own strength and her unwillingness to accept anything less than success.
    in trials for cyra, giving up is never an option—her unwavering resolve is what fuels her journey and ensures she keeps pushing forward, no matter the difficulties she encounters. however her stubborness can also lead to her butting heads with other survivors when it comes to coming up with plans on securing their survival.


    (-) selfish. her primary focus is on ensuring her own safety and well-being, often prioritizing her needs above those of others. this self-centered drive stems from a lifetime of having to look out for herself in a world that rarely offered her the luxury of dependability or support. in the trial, this manifests as a relentless pursuit of her own goals and a sharp focus on what benefits her directly. While others might see her actions as self-serving, for cyra, it’s about securing her own survival and making sure she’s not left vulnerable or at risk. her decisions are driven by a deep-seated belief that looking out for herself is the only way to guarantee her continued existence in a perilous world.
    in trials cyra will almost always put herself over others. some may describe cyra as a fallen angel figure, even with the power to help others who have been taken and thrown into cages by the killer there's a high chance cyra will choose to save her own skin.


    (-) highly opinionated. cyra’s strong opinions often come across as inflexible and uncompromising, a reflection of her deep-seated convictions and past experiences. her views are shaped by a lifetime of fighting against the grain and standing up for herself in a world that often felt hostile. this makes her particularly adamant and sometimes harsh when it comes to disagreeing with others. her certainty in her beliefs can create friction, as she struggles to accommodate differing perspectives or compromise, even when it might benefit her or those around her.
    in trials this strong-headedness manifests as a reluctance to consider alternative strategies or collaborate with others if their approaches clash with her own. cyra’s tendency to assert her views without room for negotiation can lead to strained interactions and missed opportunities, as her unwavering stance sometimes overshadows the potential for cooperation and mutual support.






    abc's

    BELONGINGS.
    a pair of ice skates. cyra was always meticulous in upkeeping her skates, especially because they came from her own personal brand and were tailored to fit her needs specifically. these skates, though, upon further inspection were clearly tampered with.
    physical exam paperwork. a report of cyra's knee injury. according to the report she was making a miraculous recovery.
    gold medal. cyra's first ever number one medal that she won as a child. she kept all of her medals but this one was special to her, a reassurance that all her hard work meant something and that every time she pushed herself and performed it was for the little girl that was still inside of her dying to prove herself to the world.
    bird feather. a feather that belonged to cyra's pride and joy, her pet pigeon named jerrica after a character in a show cyra used to watch named 'jem and the holograms'.
    journal. the journal cyra wrote in after her injury. it showcases the most vulnerable and emotional side of cyra that she often keeps to herself.
    picture frame. a photo of cyra and her parents at her first regional competition after she took home first place.



    HISTORY

    tw: racism

    BEFORE. cyra was born to a working class family of three- the only child in a small apartment in los angeles, california. from a very young cyra was taught to be both independent as well as to have tough skin from both of her parents. her father, marcus ashford, worked as a landscaper while her mother, lydia ashford, worked as a private chef. most of cyra's earliest memories are of her having to walk herself to and from school as her parents both worked to late into the day to be able to pick her up themselves. the first time cyra ever learned that people of color were often looked down on during their time she had only been six years old and in the first grade. she had tried to befriend another little girl but she had been turned away, the young girl proclaiming that "my daddy says that i can't be friends with coloreds". she ran home that day, her father was the one who found her crying under her covers. when he asked her what was wrong cyra told him the truth and that night marcus had to sit cyra down and tell her the truth about the world. how no matter how smart, or talented she was there would always be people who judged her by the color of her skin instead of from the person that she was. it was a hard pill for someone so young to swallow but from that day on cyra vowed to herself that she would never let someone make her feel lesser than just because she was a black girl.

    cyra carried this mentality with her for the rest of her life. no matter what she did she always held her head high. when someone would try to make her feel inferior she would snap back at them. when someone said she wouldn't be good at something she'd turn around and do it just to spite them. she was seven years old when figure skating first caught her eye. cyra begged her parents for weeks to let her start, eventually wearing them down until they finally agreed. it wasn't easy on their pockets but the smile that lit up cyra's face was more than enough to justify the cost and the extra hours they would need to put in to make her dream a reality. the moment she first stepped onto the ice, it became cyra's passion, and by the time she was just eight years old, her natural talent was undeniable. she spent countless hours at the local ice rink, practicing until her legs ached and her breath ran short. her parents, seeing her potential, supported her dream by enrolling her in competitive skating programs, despite the financial strain and the subtle exclusion she faced for being one of the few black girls in the sport.

    they enrolled her in lessons, and soon, cyra was spending every spare moment that she wasn't in school at the rink. her passion for figure skating was undeniable, and as she grew, so did her skills. by her teens, cyra was competing in regional competitions, outshining her peers and becoming a house hold name. by the time she was twenty one cyra even launched her own skates line, selling her own customized figure skates in select stores across the country.

    however, despite her talent the path was never easy. as one of the few women of color athletes in the figure skating world, cyra faced persistent racism. judges were often harsher on her than on her white counterparts, and she was frequently despite her undeniable talent. but cyra never let it stop her. she wore every snub like armor, using each slight as fuel to push herself harder and prove she belonged in the sport.

    in 1997, cyra stood on the cusp of achieving her lifelong dream: qualifying for the winter olympics. she had worked harder than ever, putting everything she had into preparing for the trials. when she took to the ice she felt as if her skates felt...different than they normal did but cyra didn't have the chance to check to see what was wrong with them as glided out. she was a sight to behold as she performed and it was as if the world fell away. every spin, every jump, was performed with precision and heart.

    but in the middle of her final routine, as she launched into her signature triple axel, disaster struck. cyra landed awkwardly, and a sharp pain shot through her leg. she collapsed on the ice, clutching her knee in agonizing pain. her father- who was watching in the crowd along with her mother, rushed to her aid, carrying her off the ice to seek medical treatment. as she was being carried away cyra looked out into the audience where the other finalists were awaiting their turn to perform and she swore that she saw a smirk sitting on the painted lips of her biggest competitor rachel lennox. the diagnosis was devastating: a torn acl in her right leg, an injury that would take months, if not years, to fully recover from. just like that her olympic dream was over. cyra had never cried harder in her life than she did that day.

    the injury forced cyra into early retirement, ending her career in the most heartbreaking way imaginable. the pain wasn’t just physical—the emotional toll of losing her shot at olympic glory felt like a stab to the heart for her. all her years of training, of making a name for herself, building her company from the ground up, and fighting for her space in the skating world despite the constant racism and prejudice she faced and this was how it all ended?

    THE FOG. after her injury, cyra fell into a deep depression. the rink, once her sanctuary, became a painful reminder of what she had lost. she withdrew from those around her, even her parents, feeling like a part of her identity had been stolen. it had taken months for her knee to feel somewhat normal again though no matter how much it healed it would never be to the level it was before her injury. despite this a part of cyra still held on to the hope that maybe she'd be one of the lucky ones, that maybe with enough time she would be able to compete again. after all cyra had no idea who she was without skating.

    most of her days had consisted of going to physical therapy and spending the rest of the time hiding away in her home. despite the fact that cyra essentially became a shell of her former self those around her still gave cyra their full fledged support. between her parents, friends, fans, and doctors everyone around cyra were rooting for her to make a full recovery. she'd get care packages, and fans would send her letters of encouragement. the one that finally brought cyra out of her funk and made her want to get her shit together was a letter from a little girl named dorothy who talked about how cyra was her biggest idle and how she wanted to grow to be a professional figure skater just like cyra was. the letter also included a smaller section written from dorothy's mother who told cyra how she was thankful that her daughter had another black girl to look up to and how she hoped that cyra would one day come back to continue inspiring other girls who looked up to her.

    after that cyra stopped feeling sorry for herself. it took time and a lot of patience but months after her injury cyra got amazing news from her doctor. her knee was healing up perfectly. with enough time and tlc she would be back to how she was before the accident. cyra had nearly started crying in the doctor's office. his words still ring in her head. "you should be happy miss ashford. you're one of the lucky ones." cyra knew what he had meant. most athletes never fully recovered from an injury as grave as hers but she did, she would be able to continue doing what she loved to do.

    news of her recovery filled any sports related outlet. her fans rejoiced in knowing they'd one day get to see her performing again and there was even talks that after training again that she'd be able to try for the next years winter olympics.

    everything in her life seemed to be going great again until of course it wasn't.

    cyra was training by herself when the entity came for her. per her doctor's instructions she still wasn't pushing herself to hard and after the traumatic way she'd fucked up her knee she was truthfully fine with just doing some simple laps around the rink to build her stamina back up. it was late at night and cyra had been the last one on the rink when she suddenly felt...strangely cold. a chill had washed over her, a chill the rink had never given her no matter how cold. was her body just not use to the cold skating brought the body after being away from so long? the answer was a resounding no. even as a child the rink had never made her feel this cold.

    deciding that it was probably just time for her to call it quits for the night cyra left the rink, packing her things up and changing her skates out for the pair of sneakers she'd brought with her. just as she was about to grab her bag to leave a noticeable light caught her eye. she turned her head to see that the double doors leading to the exit were suddenly open and the light was turned on. cyra knew that she should have been the only person in the building aside from probably the janitor so who turned the light on? now cyra was thoroughly creeped out. she moved to stand rubbing at her knee as she did so.

    a loud slamming noise caused her to jump turning to see that the doors that once been wide open closed once again. what the fuck? she thought snatching up her bag. she needed to get the hell out of here. she jogged to the other only exit the building had but when she tugged on the door to open it the metal wouldn't budge. she stood there in shock before tugging once more but still the door wouldn't budge. what the heck was going on? surely the janitor hadn't locked the door, the rink was still open for at least another hour.
    cyra stood there, patience waning, furiously pulling on the door harder and harder. as she did so she didn't even take notice to the fog that began trickling in from under the door until it was to late.

    NOW. cyra found herself laid out against a cold, damp forest floor. before her eyes could even open she heard voices, voices she didn't recognize and the distinct smell of smoke filled her nostrils. cyra's eyes flew open in a panic and she looked around trying to get a hold of her surroundings. where the hell was she? as she took in the camp fire and the multiple tents in her general vicinity she could only assume that she was at a camp site but why? why was she here, who had brought her here? cyra didn't know which question freaked her out more.

 
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  • /* --- base code --- */











    © akeno.




















    2007












    FULL NAME. isabella "sable" hazel montgomery
    D.O.B. jun 19, 1984
    P.O.B. chicago, illinois
    GENDER. she / her
    SEXUALITY. aromantic asexual
    OCCUPATION. student in college, but also worked as a part-time SFX/prosthetic makeup artist and prop designer
    SKILLS. extremely fast, slippery, and near impossible to catch, lithe and flexible, quick thinker, durable, resilient, incredible stamina/endurance
    ROLE. object of obsession



    visage.


















    DESCRIPTION. isabella is a vision of gentle, delicate beauty, a young woman whose presence captures attention with (somewhat)effortless grace. her naturally brown hair has been dyed a very light blonde as if kissed by the sun itself; styled in a bold wolf cut, it cascades in layers—wild yet meticulously crafted.

    her eyes, a mesmerizing blend of stormy blue and hints of green, are like a turbulent sea under a cloudy sky—unpredictable, deep, and endlessly captivating. they hold a quiet intensity, reflecting the world with a gaze that is both piercing and soft. isabella's beauty is more than just her outward appearance, however; it is the way she carries herself, a blend of fierce independence and quiet vulnerability.

    isabella's pale skin, covered with freckles that dot her shoulders, cheeks, and across the bridge of her nose, is marred with a plethora of scars; but the most notable would be the many acid burns that look to have been dripped onto her flesh- on her chest, thighs, stomach, upper arms, and back.



    ATTIRE. isabella has always been interested in the contrasting aesthetics of grunge and cottagecore, finding comfort in the edgy, rebellious vibe of one and the soft, simple charm of the other and the way it emphasizes the beauty of nature. some days she dressed grunge, other days she dressed more cottagecore, and sometimes she embraced a unique blend of both styles; effortlessly combining steel-toed boots with flowy dresses or floral prints.

    unfortunately, sable had not been so lucky when she was forced into the trials. she was thrust in barefoot and wearing a beautiful wedding dress—something that should have been a symbol of purity and joy but was nothing more than a haunting reminder of her circumstances. the gown is bloodstained and torn, ripped above the knees to allow for easier movement, yet its tattered elegance remains. the dress clings to her as a ghostly shroud, embodying the clash between her true self and the nightmarish reality forced upon her.



    FACE CLAIM. sophie thatcher








    LIKES.
    ♥ dancing - something she has loved since she was a child. dancing is one of her passions and something that she uses as a way of coping. it's a safe outlet for her emotions, and she's incredibly good at it.
    ♥ guitar + singing - always the musical one, she grew up surrounded by music and adored it as a result. she's a talented singer and can play quite a few different instruments, guitar and piano being her favourites.
    ♥ horror - a horror fanatic from a young age, her fascination with it only grew as she got older. it's something she spent hours upon hours researching every single day, watching everything she could and picking it all apart. the props and makeup interested her the most, however, and she wanted to know how they made it look so good- the gore especially. eventually, this led her to college where she spent time learning all about prop design and SFX makeup, among other things.
    ♥ sweets - despite the migraines sugar gives her, sable has always had a big sweet tooth; she knows she shouldn't eat it, but she can't help it.
    video games - ever the video game enthusiast, sable played a large variety of games. her favourites, however, are farming sims, cleanup games, and anything horror.

    DISLIKES.


    ✘ complete silence - quiet is one thing, but when there's not a sound to be heard it genuinely terrifies her. she hates it.
    staying still - she always has to be doing something, even if it's just tapping her feet or playing with blades of grass. she can't stay still for the life of her.
    being touched - physical touch can be painful for her to experience. something as simple as a hand on her shoulder makes her body ache and if her bare skin is touched it feels like it's on fire. her body remembers things she doesn't.
    darkness - being kept in near-complete darkness for weeks on end, not knowing what was going to happen to her, didn't do her any favours. while she can power through it, that doesn't mean she has to like it.
    cameras - she hates having her photo taken and not only that, it terrifies her; the flash going off, the shutter clicks- it causes her to react almost violently and it reminds her of things she would much rather forget.

    HOBBIES.


    art - whether it was drawing, painting, or otherwise, sable always found time to create. it's something that brought her more joy than anything else and something she refused to let elliot ruin.
    running - sable has been running since she was little and loved the way it made her feel. she ran almost every day without fail, early in the mornings. after getting minty, she would go running with her dog. it kept her sane.
    tabletop rpgs - she started playing dnd in her 12th foster home. her foster brother told her about it and taught her the basics. after being adopted, she made some friends in high school and they started a campaign. this went on for multiple years, and sable would have kept playing had she not been kidnapped. she adores dnd and was 100% a dice goblin.
    journaling - more than just writing—journaling was a cherished ritual for sable. it was a way to connect to herself and work through her thoughts and feelings as best she could. it's something she always did before she went to sleep.
    gardening - sable's love of gardening started young and became a way for her to escape from everyday chaos. sitting in her garden gave her a place to reflect and find solace. watching it grow filled her with pride and she loved harvesting the many fruits, vegetables, and herbs she grew.
    photography - something she used to love before elliot. she was never able to find the same joy in it as she used to, despite him gifting her a camera to take photos. sable thought it might help and give herself something else to focus on, but all it did was send her spiraling.


    STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.


    ─ (+) stamina/endurance - capable of sustaining intense activity and exertion over long periods of time- isabella can take part in just about any strenuous activity for multiple hours before even starting to feel fatigued. being a runner all her life, she built up her stamina and endurance over time.
    (+) extremely durable - isabella is capable of withstanding significant stress and damage over an extended period for a long time. no matter how one may try to break her down, she continues to push forward. injuries hardly slow her down, she'll power through them no matter how painful.
    (+) cat-like reflexes - isabella moves with grace and agility that seem instinctual. her quick reactions and sharp senses allow her to respond to danger or sudden changes with lightning speed. whether dodging an unexpected obstacle, catching something mid-air, or smoothly navigating through a crowded space; she does so with a fluidity that mirrors the precision of a feline. sable's heightened awareness of her surroundings and incredible coordination, combined with her ability to anticipate and react instantly gives her an edge in any situation.

    (-) paranoid - Isabella is constantly on edge, always wondering if someone is following her or if someone might be out to get her. her startle response is that of a prey animal and when faced with a situation where she has to choose between fight or flight, she will flee... or she'll freeze which is less than ideal, especially in the trials.
    (-) physical strength - or lack thereof; sable is built more for speed and agility than she is for brute strength. her upper body strength is nowhere near on par with her leg and core strength.
    (-)




    FEAR.


    ─ being used, hurt, or betrayed by the ones she trusts; a fear she has faced almost constantly throughout her life.

    [/B][/COLOR][/b]


    PSY.
    [/b][/color][/b]




    (+) hardworking - when faced with any task, sable won't stop until she's completed it; she consistently puts great effort and dedication into almost everything she does. she's not easily discouraged by setbacks and views obstacles as opportunities to learn and grow. isabella's resilience allows her to keep pushing forward, even in the face of adversity.
    in trials she can quickly solve problems and power through anything, no matter how hopeless it may seem. she may not be the best at motivating others, but she knows she can rely on herself and potentially offer help to others; as long as they don't try to use her and run the second things get too dicey.

    (+) clever - isabella is incredibly perceptive and possesses a quick and agile mind, able to think on her feet and adapt to new and complex situations with ease. she has a knack for problem-solving and will often find unconventional solutions where others see obstacles.
    in trials this could be beneficial in helping to work through difficult situations and figure out how to proceed in the face of danger or whatever else may be in their path. sable's quick adaptability makes for a strong individual one can rely on in almost any situation.

    (+) resilient - isabella has faced countless obstacles, each more daunting than the last, and approached them with a resilience that seems almost innate. her capacity to endure hardship is a testament to her strength regardless of the crises at hand, she remains composed and resourceful; she quickly assesses everything and finds the best path forward. sable's remarkable ability to cope and adapt doesn't mean she is unaffected by her experiences, she feels the weight of her traumas deeply but her ability to survive and thrive even in the worst situations is second to none.
    in trials any obstacle she encounters she will face head-on with little to no hesitation. she is confident in her ability to handle everything that is thrown at her, no matter how intense, terrifying, or traumatic it may be. she's been through plenty already; she knows she can make it through this, too.


    (+/-) fiercely independent - sable was forced to grow up very quickly due to the environment in which she was raised. being tossed around 25+ different foster homes at such a young age quickly had her realizing she could only rely on herself; she had to be able to take care of herself and, as a result, she grew up and learned to do so. lucy and alice helped make her life easier and more comfortable, sure, but isabella never stopped being the intensely independent person she's always been.
    in trials this can be both a good thing and a bad thing- she is capable of handling herself in tense, threatening situations, but she has a hard time relying on others; sable believes only she can keep herself safe.


    (-) cynical - isabella believes that most people are only interested in themselves, that everyone has some sort of ulterior motive, and that all of their actions are inherently selfish. it's ironic, given that sable is quite selfish herself, yet she holds deep contempt for others who are the same way. as someone who was exploited so often for so many years, isabella has a hard time believing anyone when they say they have no ulterior motives.
    in trials this level of distrust could make it incredibly difficult for her to work with others at a moments notice, she'll assume the worst of them. sable will be extremely hesitant to put her life in the hands of other people, not trusting that they'll get her out of the situation alive.

    (-) selfish - as someone who grew up in foster care, sable was extremely protective over what little she owned and hated sharing with anyone. she never went out of her way to help any of her foster siblings if it meant putting herself in the line of fire. even after being adopted she had a hard time extending the same generosity that others did to her, often putting herself before other people and being unable to share.
    in trials this may result in sable choosing to save herself over helping another survivor- at the very least, she'd have to think very hard about whether she wants to help them or not.

    (-) gullible - isabella possesses both exceptional intelligence and a deeply ingrained skepticism and distrust of others borne from past betrayals. she never takes anything at face value, always questioning motives and scrutinizing information. yet, beneath this wary exterior, there's a paradoxical vulnerability—a desire for trust that occasionally leads her to believe in someone or something against her better judgment. in these rare moments, her well-honed guard can slip and leave her open to deception that, in hindsight, seems glaringly obvious. it's as though her intelligence and distrust create a blind spot where she overthinks or second-guesses herself, sometimes missing the simple, more obvious deceptions.
    in trials this could easily result in sable putting her trust in the wrong person and the outcome of that could potentially be disastrous.











    abc's


    BELONGINGS.
    rabbit plush - the only thing that helps isabella sleep at night; she can't fall asleep without him.
    rose gold locket - an intricately designed antique locket with a photo of Isabella, her moms, Lucy and Alice, and her great pyrenees, Minty.
    chipped wedding ring - an expensive-looking ring covered in diamonds. the largest diamond at the center has cracked and the gold band has started to chip.
    broken guitar - a handpainted guitar with the initials L.M. carved at the bottom that has had the neck broken, only being held together by the strings.
    CFX mask - a creepy silicon prosthetic that looks like it was made for a horror film. there's dried blood all over it, but it's hard to tell whether the blood is real or fake.
    vial of acid - a vial of a strange clear liquid that doesn't seem to have any specific name. it can eat through just about everything; how it hasn't destroyed the vial it's in is a mystery.
    bloody photo album - filled with photos of women posed in various ways, both before and after death. the second half of the book, there are pages upon pages of photos that are nothing but sable. photos that are initially taken at a distance, but that eventually show sable being posed and hurt like all the others. it seemed whoever this belonged to became obsessed with her.






    HISTORY

    tw: stalking, kidnapping, implied abuse (physical, sexual, and mental/emotional), mention of torture, mention of murder, attempted murder

    BEFORE.
    Isabella had been fiercely independent ever since she was a child. She didn't need anyone's help; she took care of herself and she liked it that way. At least, that’s what she told herself to cope with the fact that no foster home kept her for more than a few weeks. Each new home seemed worse than the last.

    Certain she would never be adopted, Isabella made a desperate decision the day she was told she would finally have a permanent family. She ran away from the foster home, terrified that her potential adoptive parents would take one look at her and decide she wasn’t worth their time or effort.

    They eventually found her hiding in an alley and brought her back to the foster home. Much to Isabella's surprise, the following day her soon-to-be adoptive parents, Lucy and Alice Montgomery, arrived to pick her up.

    Isabella never expected to end up living so comfortably, she truly believed she would be bouncing around foster homes until she turned 18. She was forever grateful that Lucy and Alice gave her a chance at a better life.

    At first, she was rambunctious and rebelled against just about everything her moms did. She acted like a nightmare because surely this was a mistake- no one in their right mind would want her. But Lucy and Alice stood their ground, they took things slow and eventually helped Sable to realize she was there to stay. Her home was with them and she was finally safe.

    By the time Isabella reached high school, she had already skipped a couple of grades. Being the only 15-year-old senior was strange, to say the least, but it didn’t deter her—nor did the relentless bullying, the torture, she endured from a group of older students. Despite everything, she survived and graduated.

    College wasn’t initially part of her plan, but her passion for SFX, prosthetic makeup, and prop design led her to pursue it. Although her moms were hesitant at first, given how young she was, they supported her decision nonetheless.

    Sable spent the next four years taking far more classes than she needed to, even starting an apprenticeship of sorts on a movie set. A close family friend offered to take her under his wing, giving her the opportunity to gain hands-on experience and apply her talents in real-world situations. This was an absolute dream come true for Isabella so, naturally, she accepted.

    It was during this that Isabella met Elliot, a bright and charismatic young actor who was gaining recognition for his roles in horror movies and short films. She of all people was assigned to do his makeup for his role as a killer in his next film. He struck up a conversation with Sable while she worked and by the end of it, they had exchanged contact information.

    Isabella was surprised he seemed to be even the slightest bit interested in talking to her, but she didn’t think much of it. Little did she know just how fascinated Elliot was with her, nor how quickly that fascination would turn into complete obsession.

    At first, it was just little things—flowers on her doorstep, sweet notes in the mail, the occasional coffee date. Isabella saw this as the two of them becoming friends, something she never expected but didn’t necessarily dislike. However, it became clear that Elliot liked her more than she liked him, a suspicion confirmed when he professed his undying love for her; something that honestly frightened Sable.

    Elliot seemed to take the rejection well enough, but Isabella soon learned the hard way that he wasn’t going to accept no for an answer. The stalking and harassment began shortly after. What started as coincidental meetings at places Sable frequented escalated into Elliot blatantly following her. He began showing up at locations she hadn’t mentioned, popping up at events, and even appearing on movie sets where she worked. No matter where Isabella went, no matter where she looked, it seemed as though he was always there.

    Sable, who was living in a dorm at the time, didn’t want to burden her moms with something as severe as this. She tried her hardest to keep it under wraps while she figured out what to do, but as things escalated it became impossible to hide. Elliot started breaking into her dorm, attacking her, and promising they would “be together soon” after every single encounter.

    Lucy and Alice soon noticed the toll it was taking on their daughter. During one of her visits home, they begged her to confide in them. After enduring so much, Isabella finally allowed herself to break down, be vulnerable, and share even a fraction of what had been happening. Her parents were nothing but supportive, accompanying her to the police to figure out how to move forward.

    First and foremost, Lucy insisted that Isabella move back home. Although she agreed with some hesitation, she knew it was the best—and safest—option. Alice ensured that all the windows had locks, she changed every lock on every door in the house and got a dog—a massive Great Pyrenees who Isabella named Minty.

    For a few weeks, life seemed to return to some semblance of normalcy, but that quickly changed when a package was left on their doorstep, addressed to one Isabella Hazel Montgomery. Inside was a handwritten note taped to a photo album. The note wasn't signed, and the package had no return address, but Isabella immediately recognized Elliot’s handwriting. The note expressed his disappointment in her and accused her of being a "very bad girl." The photo album, later handed over to the police, was filled with pictures of girls who had gone missing in recent months. It felt like a dark foreshadowing.

    The stalking started again a few days later and escalated almost immediately. Elliot tried to break into her room, thankfully unable to get the window open due to how it was reinforced. He also tried to poison her dog but failed. After the unsuccessful poisoning attempt, Elliot decided it was time to put his master plan into motion.

    Sable had been walking home from work like she did every day when Elliot stuck the needle in her neck.

    When Isabella finally woke up, she was in complete darkness. Feeling around the room she found a mattress, pillow, and blanket. She could feel a chain around her ankle that kept her from going far. It seemed he had already put a ring on her finger, too.

    Elliot let her out a couple of times a day to eat and use the bathroom, but he kept her drugged with low doses of sedatives to maintain control. He was careful not to sedate her too much—he enjoyed it when she fought back, relishing in her resistance.

    When Isabella stepped too far out of line Elliot would punish her however he saw fit. Whether it be with torture or something else far more sinister, he didn’t care; so long as it didn’t damage her pretty face or kill her, it was fair game. Something he often did while he attacked her was take acid—she never did find out what exactly it was made from—and dripped it onto her bare flesh.

    Elliot recorded her screams and played them for her if he thought she needed reminders to behave. He had albums upon albums of photographs documenting every little thing. Elliot didn’t want to forget a single moment with his beloved; at least, that’s what he would always say.

    Isabella quickly lost track of time; days blurred into weeks, and weeks into months. Despite holding on to a sliver of hope, a part of her feared she would never be found. Elliot would show her all of the news clippings, and the signs her moms put up all around the city. He sat her down next to him to watch the news, ensuring she saw Lucy and Alice pleading for their daughter's safe return, enjoying the way it tore Isabella down bit by bit.

    Eventually, it seemed as though Elliot trusted her enough to move about the house within reason. No longer trapped in the pitch-black room nor being given sedatives, she relished in what little freedom she was given and did her best to please him even more from then on. Isabella knew this was one more step to getting away from him. She just had to endure for a while longer.

    THE FOG.
    It was the day of the wedding Elliot had been meticulously planning since the day he met Isabella. For the first time, he was willing to give her more freedom than she ever had. As a show of trust, Elliot left the house to prepare and didn’t lock her in the dark room like he usually did. Isabella knew this was the only chance she had to finally escape.

    Sable’s stomach churned violently as she ran through every room, gathering what she could to take to the police. The wedding dress Elliot put her in before he left dragged along the wooden flooring, her bare feet catching on the fabric and causing her to slide around. There was no way she would be able to run in this and she didn’t have time to change, so she tore the dress above the knees to allow for more movement.

    The car door slamming shut scared her so terribly that she almost dropped everything in her arms. Elliot was back far sooner than anticipated and she still wasn’t ready, but this was her only chance. If he caught her now he would surely kill her for disobeying him.

    Isabella ran to her hiding spot, somewhere she had scoped out ages ago that was close enough to the door that she could run out as he opened it; at least, that was the plan.

    By some miracle, the moment Elliot entered the home and called for her to greet him, she managed to barrel past him and fly down the stairs leading to the sidewalk. He didn’t have time to blink, let alone process what had just happened, as Isabella rushed into the street and sprinted barefoot in any direction that was away from him.

    Elliot’s shouts followed Sable down the street as he raced after her, but she didn’t let up. She screamed bloody murder, hoping it would deter him to some degree but he continued his pursuit.

    Gravel and rocks dug into the soles of her feet, blood from wounds that were still healing had begun to seep into the wedding dress and dye the fabric red, and she could feel herself losing steam. Isabella had been running for ages and still, Elliot never let up; he was determined to get her back. What made matters worse- no one stopped to help her.

    Isabella could hear Elliot still screaming for her to stop. She closed her eyes, crying out again for someone, anyone, to help her. She never believed in a god, but she prayed anyway.

    When Isabella opened her eyes fog had gathered at her feet, surrounding her and blinding her to everything around. Elliot’s voice had long since faded away and now she was completely and utterly alone with no way of getting home to her family. She finally stopped running, collapsed to her knees, and began sobbing.

    NOW.
    Isabella escaped one hellish prison, only to end up in another. She doesn’t know how she got here or where ‘here’ is, but she knows she has to figure out a way home. The fear of not knowing what’s going on is eating away at her, but sitting around and crying like a scared little girl does no good.

    [/b][/color][/b]

 
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    © akeno.




















    2002












    FULL NAME. catalina mendez
    D.O.B. february 5th, 1976
    P.O.B. san diego, california
    GENDER. nonbinary | they/she
    SEXUALITY. panromantic asexual
    OCCUPATION. chemist
    SKILLS. quick witted, persistent, willingness to try, loves a good game, finds joy + comfort in the little things, tinkering.
    ROLE. built to last


    visage.


















    DESCRIPTION. in normal circumstances, catalina is meticulous about their appearance. her thick, dark hair is naturally wavy and falls to the middle of her back. they enjoy trying out a variety of styles but more often than not wear it half-up. when they're at work, she'll put it into a bun so that stray hairs won't fall into her field of vision. they have deep brown eyes that give away how they’re feeling even when they try to keep a neutral expression. they stand at a height of 5’5 and have developed a strong, sturdy build from consistently exercising. their naturally warm bronze skin soaks up the sunlight whenever they go on outdoor adventures.

    her left nostril and septum are pierced, adorned with simple silver hoop jewelry. she wanted to eventually get her right nostril pierced as well, preferring to keep things symmetrical. unfortunately, they weren’t able to have it done before their untimely disappearance into the fog. when she doesn’t choose to cover them, a multitude of tattoos can be noticed on her body.


    ATTIRE. the outfits that catalina wore during their free time varied greatly, but they tended to lean toward trends that were more popular in the 80s. they loved incorporating pops of color into her looks, whether it be with clothes or makeup. when on the clock, she stuck with items that were comfy underneath her lab coat and strayed away from extra jewelry. it was an unfortunate but necessary trade off; if anything got contaminated by chemicals by accident, it’d be gone. on the day they were taken by the entity, their clothing consisted of their lab coat, a lavender polo shirt tucked into stone washed high waisted jeans, and white sneakers.


    FACE CLAIM. lizeth selene








    LIKES.
    thunderstorms. they drown out the noise of everything else. they used to cozy up in the bay window area of her home to watch lightning flash in the distance, occasionally being able to fall asleep due to the sense of calmness they brought.
    folktales. they’ve been a sucker for these since she was a kid, and their appreciation has only grown as they’ve gotten older.
    honeysuckle. bittersweet memories of warm summer days flood their mind whenever they catch sight of their vibrant petals. they’ve tried to grow them in the past, but (much to their dismay) they aren't great at keeping plants alive.
    puzzles. when they still lived with their family, they hung out with their younger brother in her room and completed puzzles together. she has the ones they finished framed on her walls and prefers to do them alone as a quiet past time now.
    collecting knickknacks. seaglass, rocks, and bottle caps galore. if she sees an object she thinks is cool or wants to learn more about, she’s bound to pick it up and put it in her pocket or bag. they give their friends the ones that remind her of them.


    DISLIKES.

    doctors. negative experiences in medical facilities have made them more than disdainful of healthcare professionals. they thought it’d be perfect if they could never step foot into a doctor’s office or hospital again.
    nicknames. they hate whenever people try to shorten their name (especially without permission) because it feels like a disservice.
    crowds. getting caught in the middle of large groups of people is one of the most anxiety provoking things for them. it’s slightly less daunting when it happens outdoors; otherwise, it gets way too complicated to make it to building exits during an emergency.
    being rushed. she can get extremely passive aggressive when pressed to do things faster without a proper reason.
    strong smells. headaches, nausea, you name it; they all affect her after a while of breathing in harsh odors.


    HOBBIES.

    surfing. beach trips were a staple outing throughout their childhood. catalina used to watch surfers cruise over waves in awe, always wanting to try it out for themselves but unsure on how to start. she finally signed up for lessons in college and slowly got better at not wiping out. they like to claim that they’re a pro now.
    playing the drums. even before they got their first set of drumsticks, they could usually be heard tapping some sort of beat on whatever surface was in front of them. playing this instrument came naturally, and it’s a great creative outlet for them.
    tabletop RPGs. growing up in san diego didn’t shield them from the satanic panic that ran rampant in the 80s and 90s. their parents were strict and didn’t approve of things deemed ‘un-christian,’ but that just made them more curious about what the fuss was for. while some kids would sneak out to parties, catalina would do it to play dungeons and dragons with their friends. she expanded her hidden collection of these types of games as more of them came out, only taking a reluctant break when she no longer had the time to keep up with campaigns.
    mixology. they worked as a bartender at night during their college years to keep herself afloat. it was fun, lucrative, but also majorly overstimulating and restricted the creative freedom that they craved. after she quit, she turned drink making into a hobby to keep the skill set in their life.


    STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.

    (+) endurance. catalina is a fighter who can withstand tough circumstances for long periods. she considers fatigue a minor obstacle that can easily be ignored (but.. their body eventually says otherwise. the aches and pains that come after they accidentally fall asleep at their desk are no joke).
    (+) balance. years of surfing have vastly improved their balance. they typically move with grace and can quickly recover from infrequent stumbles.
    (+) efficiency. they waste no time when doing tasks. if they’re initially unprepared or something goes wrong midway, they’ll put in more effort to compensate so that the final product is remarkable.

    (-) disorganized. catalina has never been great at keeping track of where they leave their items. one moment, they’d be chugging along at work with a beaker in hand. then, they’d place it on the table to go check on something else. when they’d come back? BOOM. nowhere in sight. it was like it vanished into thin air. her mother used to poke fun of her by saying they would lose their head if it wasn’t attached to their neck.
    (-) oblivious. when completing activities that interest them, their attention can’t be swayed and they become unaware of their surroundings as well as the time spent doing them.
    (-) squeamish. queasiness overwhelms their stomach at the sight of blood and gore. they have to ground themselves during these occasions, or else dizziness will take over.


    FEAR.

    being taken advantage of.




    PSY.





    (+) daring. catalina is no stranger to risk taking. after all, how could they resist the thrill? they have no problem with taking the lead and are usually the one to jump headfirst into situations that many would be discouraged from. if other survivors hesitate, she’ll notice and step in for them instead of casting judgment. it’ll also be tough for killers to sway them in a trial. in fact, they might even try to strike fear in their opponents when given the chance.

    (+) ingenious. ever since they were a kid, they’ve been inquisitive and have sought to understand how the world works. she loves to experiment to test out different theories that pop into her head, easily over excited by the possibility of discovering something new. she’s clever and great at problem solving, especially when she’s under pressure. when it comes to mechanical objects, they can spend hours at their desk taking the pieces apart to figure out why they function the way they do. they’ll use this to their advantage to identify a killer’s weaknesses during a trial. rest assured, they’ll have fun tailoring their traps to hit them where it hurts.

    (+) upbeat. they have an easygoing temperament and try their best to stay positive, letting most things roll off their back. sometimes, it can be difficult to keep up with their seemingly boundless energy. they adore goofing around with those they’re closest to and can be counted on to liven things up a bit. she’ll aim to keep things on the lighter side when morale gets low. if another survivor needs a distraction or laugh, they’ll commit to making it happen. if all they need is comfort, she’s fine with providing that too.

    (=) selfless.
    catalina is highly in tune with and prioritizes the needs of other people. if someone is struggling, she’ll go out of her way to assist them. this can be to their detriment though because she fixates on problems until she feels like they’re ‘solved.’ in turn, they can neglect themselves and face burn out. once they get their bearings in this new reality, they’ll be willing to aid the other survivors without question even if they might not trust them at first. broke an object? confused about a topic? in danger during a trial? they’ve got you covered.
    (-) hubris. their excessive pride in their abilities often leads to them overestimating how much they can handle, but they struggle to admit when they’ve gotten to that point. without realizing how clouded their judgment can be, they’re usually highly dismissive of advice that comes their way. this could potentially lead to frustrations within the survivor group because they will actively ignore instructions or tweak plans without communicating if they come up with a solution that makes more sense to them. additionally, she could overwhelm herself by taking responsibility for too many things at once.

    (-) reckless. they have a habit of not considering the consequences of their actions. as a result, they’ve unintentionally gotten themselves into plenty of sticky situations in the past. they somewhat naively believe that even if things go wrong, it’ll still work out in the end as long as they keep pushing through. in reality, this is not always the case, and it leads to them falling further down the rabbit hole. catalina could accidentally throw a trial or put herself / others in danger if she doesn’t proceed with caution. killers could benefit from this as long as they stay a couple steps ahead of them in their trap making + setting process.

    (-) distrusting. catalina believes that it’s safer to keep new people at an emotional distance until she has a good grasp on their character. they doubt everyone’s intentions, which makes forming relationships... complicated (to say the least). instead of approaching the other survivors first, they’ll be reserved and prefer to people watch unless she’s needed. it’ll take some time before they allow themselves to accept or ask for the same help they so willingly give from possible allies.











    abc's


    BELONGINGS.
    safety eye glasses. of course an accident still managed to happen. they're just lucky like that.
    felt pouch containing a set of D&D dice. tried and true, the first dice they ever collected. the numbers have needed to be refilled for a long time. some red crayon residue still remains in their etchings.
    drumsticks wrapped with electric blue grip tape. practice makes perfect.
    stopwatch. the glass is cracked. it helps to keep track of time… when they actually remember to use it.

    tiny wooden sea lion. the last thing her father made for her before they left to college. once rough edges have been worn down by years of smoothing their fingers over its surface.
    almost empty matchbook. J.S. is written in sharpie on the back.








    HISTORY


    BEFORE. catalina was born on a sunny winter day in san diego, california. their household was never perfect, but it had originally been decent. she was the center of their parents’ lives for six years until their brother was born. they weren’t exactly keen on sharing the attention with him, but extra toys appeased them for a little bit. though, it clicked as they got older that the gifts were being used to replace necessary affection and deserved apologies. after a while, those trickled to a stop too.

    money got even tighter when their mother was laid off from her job, and their parents could never agree on how to manage their new budget. at first, arguments between them were kept behind closed doors during the nighttime. as stress built up, they began breaking out around the house over little things in the day. if it ever got too loud, catalina and their brother would wait it out in her room. they used their shabby portable radio to play music in the background while they distracted themselves with puzzles and different games.

    sometimes, catalina found themselves in the middle of it all trying to soothe tension, be a mediator, play any role that could help. she listened in car rides as they dumped their complaints about one another onto her, feeling stuck when they wanted her to agree or pitch in. they always thanked them for being there, but neither of them acknowledged the stress it caused. she was still just a kid, and they were still their parents.

    disappointingly, their relationship continued to be rocky even after their financial situation improved. words of vitriol could be forgiven, but they were never forgotten. catalina and their brother remained on edge throughout the years; they always dreaded the possibility of the next hitch leading to their divorce. despite the odds, they stood together through everything.

    catalina was determined to go to college when the time came, but it was impossible not to feel alone in the decision. while their parents tried to understand her reasons, their weariness about them leaving home wasn’t subtle. they also weren’t sure how to help; neither of them had personal experience with applying for schools or federal financial aid. catalina heavily relied on their community center’s college readiness program to get through it.

    they screamed when that first acceptance letter came in. she was ecstatic, but… guilt sliced through her at the same time. now that it was real, like really real, they felt selfish for having the opportunity. they worried about how their brother would fare in their house without her; whether their parents’ fighting would escalate; if their father’s health would worsen further due to the stress. she had no idea what to expect from the upcoming journey, but they knew failure wasn’t an option. she had to do thisno matter how hard it proved to be.


    THE FOG. catalina eventually obtained their bachelor of science degree in chemistry and readily accepted a job offer that required relocation to los angeles, california. it was far from their family, but they felt like it was necessary for the time being. things hadn't been the same between them since they came out, and san diego was filled with too many memories she couldn't shake.

    except, moving wasn't as alleviating as they thought it would be. the grief over losing complicated but close relationships was a beast for them to carry. staying busy could only do so much. they were at least able to grow around their circumstances over the years.

    it was nearing the end of a long shift at work when the fog descended on catalina.


    editing this section, please refer to their first post for other pieces while i rewrite it


    NOW. adrenaline lingers in their system. she feels tense while looking around. they don’t understand where they are, how she got here, or who everyone is, but they’re going to dig to figure out this new reality one way or another.


 
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    © akeno.




















    1958












    FULL NAME. ruby "rose" bennett
    D.O.B. june 10, 1928
    P.O.B. augusta, kentucky
    GENDER. cisgender female. she/her
    SEXUALITY. pansexual
    ALIAS. the actress
    ROLE. starstruck
    SPECIES. harpy


    visage.


















    DESCRIPTION. the epitome of a glamorous movie star of her time. long blonde waves cascaded down her back, just past her shoulders, framing her ovate face. full ruby red lips that contrasted from her pale complexion. and a slender figure with curves in all the right places. her appearance drew in the crowds and the cameras wherever she went. or so that was what the directors told her...

    ruby went under extensive cosmetic procedures to get her star quality looks. before the painful surgeries, restrictive diets, and the bleaching of her hair, she was a rather simple looking girl from rural kentucky. with straight, long brunette hair that she often wore in braids with ribbons tied on the end or coquettish ballerina buns. freckles covered her full cheeks and nose from the frequent exposure to the sun as a young girl running around her family's farm. her freckles were her signature feature as a child star, but as she got older the makeup artists and stylists opted for a more powdered look, covering up what first brought her into the spotlight. the one feature that remained untouched were her big dark brown doe eyes that can express any emotion she wills, only enhanced with the use of mascara to darken and lengthen her eyelashes and a thin cat-eye to complete the look. but deep within those pools of ebony is a glint of mischievousness and a much darker emotion that can make anyone's hair stand on end.

    in the realm of the entity, ruby was morphed into a cruel reminder of her gruesome death. while her face and general figure remained the same, most of her body is covered in ash-colored feathers that start from the top of her head and continue down her back to her arms and legs. her arms have been replaced by large wings that grant her the ability of flight at great speeds and force. long, sword-like talons make up her hands and feet, sharp enough to rip a person into shreds of skin and flesh. and her eyes are now obsidian, sharp and focused, like a hawk watching its prey.

    ruby despises the form the entity had given her. whenever she can she changes back into her ideal human form, the appearance she had before those birds had disfigured her. but she can only maintain this form for so long, before the harpy takes back its control over her.


    ATTIRE. her dream outfit and the one she is seen wearing in her preferred form is a floor length silver dress that was embezzled with tiny, iridescent gems that made it glitter under the red carpet lights. the dress had a scandalous low cut v-line and an open back design with the straps criss-crossing and holding everything together. a snow white mink fur stole is laid gracefully over her shoulders, and a large diamond necklace adorns her exposed neckline. long white silk gloves extend past her elbows and are decorated with delicate bracelets that match the obvious statement piece.

    in her harpy form, the feathers provide the only form of coverage and protection.



    WEAPON. lethally sharp talons that curve at the end and are able to hook into whatever she impales, making it harder for those captured in her grasp to escape without mortally wounding themselves.



    FACE CLAIM. mia goth



    fill out the realm form on discord.








    LIKES.

    acting.
    dancing.
    stories.
    cameras.
    attention.

    DISLIKES.

    auditions.
    being overlooked.
    critics.
    competition.
    not having fun.

    HOBBIES.

    fashion.
    dance.

    STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.


    (+) strength.
    trial:
    (+) speed.
    trial:
    (+) imitation.
    trial:
    (-) impatient.
    trial:
    (-) irrational.
    trial:
    (-) narcissistic.
    trial:


    FEAR.


    failure.



    PSY.





    (+) charismatic.
    now:

    (+) adaptable.
    now:

    (+) perceptive.
    now:

    (-) sadistic.
    now:

    (-) vindictive.
    now:

    (-) unpredictable.
    now:











    abc's


    POWER.
    method acting.
    with her talent for acting, ruby is able to expertly imitate any person she comes in contact with. she picks up on their speech pattern, tone, behavior, and even their mannerisms. she uses this to throw off any unsuspecting survivor and lead them astray — whether it is to trick them into doing her bidding or lead them into a trap she had set up for them. her favorite use of this ability is by pretending to be someone one of the survivors is particularly close to, watching them spiral into panic and fear as they search for the source, believing it is the person they seek.

    bird of prey.
    as a harpy, ruby is able to do anything birds are capable of, particularly birds of prey. she can take flight, making it easier for her to chase down or swoop onto survivors in an effort to attack them. her eyesight is greatly improved and she is able to see from far with better accuracy than when she was human. the strength of her wings and talons allow her to pick up any survivor, trapping them in her clutches as they struggle to break free.

    SIDE OBJECTIVE.
    cut the cameras.

    there are old film cameras scattered all over dream city, ruby's realm. they appear to be nonfunctional and remnants of a bygone era, but what many do not realize is that they serve as additional eyes for the killer. the last thing any survivor would want is to step into her designated camera room, where hundreds of photography and film cameras are lined up, going off the minute someone enters the vicinity, and alerting her of their presence. while the cameras outside the room do not turn on the same way, they are ever watching. survivors who are able to pick up on this, can destroy these cameras or somehow hinder them, making ruby loose "one of her eyes" in a sense. it is risky since she is able to sense which cameras have been messed with, unless they were tampered with in a way that does not signal her, such as covering up the lenses (she is capable of removing any coverings once discovered, but it still slows her down). without her extra "eyes" it will be harder for her to track the location of the survivors.

    THE MORI.
    bird box.
    reminiscent to her own death, ruby will summon the very birds she keeps caged in an empty, run down studio in her realm, and have them target the survivor. the harpy will lift her head back and let out a piercing shriek that leaves her victim frozen in both fear and awe. the birds fly to their location in a dark swarm and immediately surround their prey, encasing them in a shadow of feathers. they mercilessly peck at the individual, gouging out their eyes and ripping out pieces of flesh. still unable to move the birds continue until they are a crumpled, torn up heap or ruby wills them to stop for whatever reason. if she decides to stop them, she will approach the victim and watch over them with a menacing look of satisfaction as they bleed out and take their final breaths.

    BELONGINGS.
    fur stole. made of pure white minx fur. the soft and luxurious garment was part of a look she had in mind for her first ever film award show.
    scriptbook. a book containing the lines from the movie she was starring in that ultimately led to her demise. it is full of scribbles and annotations made by her.
    professional headshot photo. the first headshot she took in an attempt to step away from being a child star into a serious hollywood actress.
    diamond necklace. the statement piece of her award show attire. it consists of many smaller diamonds with a large blood diamond in the middle.
    blonde hair dye. the dye that gave her that signature blonde look. she used to go through boxes and boxes to prevent any of her brunette roots from peeking out. hollywood wanted a bleach blonde bombshell and she was going to give them one.







    HISTORY

    [content warning: implied psychopathy, mentions of animal death, violence, and murder, non-descriptive gore, implied sexual abuse]

    BEFORE. ruby bennett was born on a hot and humid summer day on her family's farm in augusta, kentucky. she was the youngest of five children, consisting of three girls and two boys. her parents, abigail and wyatt bennett, were extremely hard workers, always toiling out on the farm and working the shop at the local town to be able to provide the best for their children. from a young age, ruby exhibited some concerning behaviors. taking a particular interest in harming small animals, mostly birds since they presented as a more interesting challenge for her with their quick reflexes and ability to fly. her parents were unsure how to handle these habits and tried their very best to keep her distracted from acting upon these impulses.

    aside from her intense fascination to inflict harm, ruby was extremely jealous and would always throw a fit whenever she did not get her way or felt that her siblings were being received better than she was. her meltdowns were destructive and nearly impossible to subdue. the only way her parents could get her to calm down was by giving her whatever she wanted in the first place. this often boiled down to merely attention, which she constantly craved for.

    another habit of hers was that she was a pathological liar. anything that came out of her mouth needed to be taken with a grain of salt. the many scares she had given her parents and her siblings all from a singular lie was astounding. to make matters worse, she acted out her lies, making them extremely convincing. on one occasion, she managed to make her parents believe that her older brother, austin, had drowned at a lake near the farm when he could not be found. when her parents had asked her for his whereabouts the young girl burst into heaving sobs, tears streaming down her wide frightened eyes. "i tried to stop him, mama! but he wouldn' listen..." it turned out the boy had run off with his friends to play baseball, ditching his farm chores without informing anyone else. but no one knew until he came back home with his baseball bat in hand and was greeted to the relieved cries of his parents and siblings. as he looked over his mother's shoulders, his gaze fixed on his youngest sister, who stared back at him with a dark look. an unsettling shiver ran down his spine.

    as soon as she could walk ruby had expressed an interest in performing in front of others. she was seen singing and dancing in the house and the barns as she closely followed her parents around while they did their daily chores. she would create costumes and props for the little productions she would put together to show her entire family. out in public, she did not shy away from any opportunity to put on a performance and she thrived from the attention and praise she would receive. despite her questionable habits and behavior, the girl had talent. it did not take long for her to gain the attention of a talent scout who was passing through the area when she was six years old.

    at the age of seven, she was casted in a starring role in a sitcom called oh my dear ruby, which was broadcasted on the radio and performed live in front of an audience. she and her mom traveled to los angeles and made a temporary home there as the show aired, leaving her father and older siblings to continue taking care of the farm and family home. the show was an immediate success, following the comedic adventures of a family with their rambunctious daughter, ruby, who kept getting them into wacky situations. the audience loved her vivaciousness, even when they could not see her and merely listened to her voice through the radio, she still received raving reviews from both fans and critics alike.

    the show went one for the next four years. ruby's fame had grown a lot and navigating out in public became much more difficult with the number of fans and press who tried to reach her. but she loved every moment of it, taking the time to stop and pose for a photo. and then it all came to a screeching halt. the great depression of the 1930s had diminished the number of viewers and listeners. the people's interest had shifted more towards the troubles at hand, and many did not find the now eleven year old ruby to be as entertaining as her younger self. the radio station dropped the show and all of the remaining live performances were promptly cancelled.

    a distraught ruby and her mother had to move back to their family home in kentucky. back on the farm, she tried to convince her parents to take her back to los angeles, determined to find another acting job. but her parents disagreed, saying that they needed to focus on providing for themselves due to the additional hardships brought in by the depression. resentment grew within ruby, feeling as if her family was holding her back. as she remained stuck in her home, she began plotting for her next comeback.

    THE SHIFT. ruby would find herself back in california at the age of seventeen years old. during her time away, the entertainment industry had gone through a major transition brought in by the rise of prominent studious and shifting from silent films to talking pictures, introducing a new golden age. the money maker were movies and stars were being brought into the limelight left and right. the teen was determined to make her mark, but she first needed to build connections. even at her young age she knew she needed to have a hand in the game to be able to play it.

    reconnecting with the former talent scout that gave her a taste of stardom, she was able to meet with various directors and producers from big name studios. eventually she caught the eye of one, the up and coming film director ernest williams, who was twenty years her senior and had several directing awards under his name. he fueled her ego with promises and praise, claiming that he believed she had the potential to become an absolute marvel in the film industry. all she had to do was follow his guidance. he taught her how to act and behave on camera. set her up with speech tutors to correct the way she spoke, ridding her of the southern accent she grew up with. "no one will cast you with that god awful accent." helped her memorize lines and perform different scenes he would assign her. and most of all, showed her how to be desirable, taking advantage of her naivety and inexperience. as his words and promises continued to intoxicate her and dull her senses, he found that she can entertain him in more ways than one.

    when all was said and done, the farm girl that ruby once was became the ideal image of glamour. her old life completely stripped away from her and replaced with a "better version" of herself. those who remembered her from her days in oh my dear ruby were in utter awe of her transformation. bottle blonde, irresistible features, and that same liveliness that drew so many fans in all those years ago. the bright red lipstick that she was always seen wearing earned her the nickname ruby rose, which she opted to use as her stage name over her surname. she was ernest's proudest achievement, and he was finally ready to introduce her to the world of film.

    the next few years were a dream for ruby. after starring in a box office hit, she was being contacted by top producers and studios, offering roles to their films and productions. ernest, however, kept her under lock and key, showering her with promises of bigger and better. she remained loyal to him, not taking on any lovers of her own, and allowing him complete control of her body in return for another starring role. convinced that all was going her way, she continued to do what he asked of her, even undergoing a painful cosmetic procedure because her nose was "a little too wide". as long as the lead role was given to her she was willing to do anything.

    then there was the other girl. a young natural blonde had taken ernest's attention away from his creation, leaving ruby in the dust. angered and shocked by his sudden betrayal, she decided to take action into her own hands and agree to audition for a role in a film being produced by a rival director behind his back. ernest did not handle the news well at all, believing he still had control over her, and tried to blacklist her. the day before ruby was set to audition, a news article came out "exposing" the rising bombshell for being "unprofessional" and "extremely difficult to work with". her audition was swiftly cancelled and her contract with ernest was voided, leaving her in a state worse than when she started.

    fueled by revenge, ruby managed to pick herself back up. she started auditioning for smaller productions to get work and build back up her reputation. it was clear that casting directors were still wary to hire her due to ernest's false rumors and she struggled to compete with other actors trying out for the same role, even though they were lesser known. desperation and frustration began to overtake her and the behaviors and impulses her parents and many others have tried to suppress since she was a girl were cracking through the surface.

    it started out as minor accidents on set. cords that were expertly placed as tripping hazards. costume and prop malfunctions. allergic reactions to hair and makeup products. none of it lethal, but prone to serious injuries that forced the casting directors to turn to ruby to takeover as lead. no one seemed to connect her to the accidents since she was never around when they would occur. they are all so gullible. she always made sure to visit her victims while they were in recovery, bringing them a bouquet of flowers and wishing them to get well. but underneath her sweet facade, she reveled in seeing the state her actions brought upon them. not feeling any remorse and only focusing on getting what she believed she deserved.

    and then it finally happened. the moment she had been waiting for. another opportunity to make it back into a big film production. a major studio finally reached out to her and invited her to audition for a role in a new psychological thriller that was being developed. the film was being directed by herman odell, who recently won the academy award for best film and director, defeating ernest. this connection pleased ruby and she agreed to the invitation. at her audition, she impressed the casting directors with her range and depiction of terror, and they offered her the role on the spot.

    herman was a breath of fresh air compared to ernest, welcoming her onto his set graciously and treating her to anything she desired. he sent her gifts and provided her the luxuries expected of a star actress. this treatment made her realize with disgust how ernest had played her, controlling her like a puppet and leading her on when he only wanted to lead her to his bed. one day she will exact her revenge on him, but for now she needed to focus on giving her best performance. herman being an academy award winner means that the top critics and the academy themselves will have their eyes on this upcoming film. and this could finally be her ticket into being recognized by the academy.

    production finally began and ruby was brought on set to run a few scenes. it was a brisk autumnal day and there was a nice chill in the air. the sound of birds chirping and cawing from the cages they were being kept in was deafening to the ears of those around them. the premise of the film centered on these birds as they turn against nature and attack every living being around them. ruby was playing one of the main protagonists who attempt to figure out what caused the birds to behave this way and put a stop to it. herman wanted to film the climax of the film where ruby's character gets chased by the swarm of killer birds.

    they had her go through the scene without the actual birds a multitude of times. as the hours went on and the sun began to set, the production team was finally ready to shoot the scene with the live birds since it was supposed to take place during twilight. ruby received the final touch ups on her hair and make before making her way to her designated spot on set. "alright, rose! remember just like how we rehearsed...take one and action!" the camera started to film and ruby got into character, going through the motions she was taught and directed to do. it all came naturally to her and she felt completely in her element.

    then the birds were released.

    there were gasps of horror from the crew as the swarm began to surround her entirely, engulfing in a fury of feathers. a loud shriek escaped ruby's lips as the birds began to peck on her mercilessly. "cut! cut! someone get her out of there!" herman's yells were drowned out by the ensuing panic as some of the birds left the swarm to attack the other people on set. ruby tried batting away but the effort proved to be fruitless as the birds continued to fly around her, blocking view of her surroundings. their sharp beaks and talons felt like tiny knives ripping into her skin. desperate to get away from the pain she started running. to where? she could not tell. her vision only saw madness and feathers. blood was dripping down her legs, arms, and face, but she paid no mind to that and continued running.

    and then...she was falling.

    NOW. ruby stares at the cameras before her as they click and flash away, capturing every inch of her. the pain and damage left by the birds could no longer be felt and she felt...stronger and lighter on her feet. a voice unfamiliar yet enticing spoke to her. she listened, mulling over every word. this...entity wanted her to become fear. a smile graced her lips at the presented challenge. oh ernest...just you wait. i'm about to give my greatest performance yet.


 
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  • /* --- base code --- */











    © akeno.




















    Unknown












    FULL NAME. Conner Miles Flanigan
    D.O.B. November 3rd, 2005 (Estimated 20+ years old)
    P.O.B. Tulsa, Oklahoma
    GENDER. Male, He/Him
    SEXUALITY. Unknown
    ALIAS. Dread.
    ROLE. Devour Hope.
    SPECIES. Human


    visage.


















    DESCRIPTION. Connor has a youthful appearance. He has a slim build that complements his height, which is around 5'10. His face is characterized by a defined jawline and high cheekbones. Connor’s eyes are a warm, deep brown, but if you looked closely they were blank as if there was nothing. It reflected all his trauma and pain. Below his eyes were a deep set of dark eyebags, representing the tiredness he endured and still does. His hair is a rich, dark brown, styled messy from never doing anything to it and cut unevenly from the man. His complexion is fairly pale, with what once was smooth skin, but now is dirty skin. The wounds inflicted during his time in the basement are etched deeply into his skin, appearing as raw, open scars that never heal. These wounds contrast a once-smooth complexion, adding a harsh, permanent reminder of his trauma. One gash across his face, from the left side of his forehead slanted across his nose to the right cheek. He had a gash on his left jaw line. One across his chest, many on his arms and legs. The permanently, never healing, open wounds covered his body.

    ATTIRE.
    When Connor was abducted, he wore a soft t-shirt with a graphic design of his favorite superhero on the front. The shirt was a bit loose, allowing him to move comfortably while he slept, but kept him warm. He wore matching pajama shorts that were light and breathable. The shorts had a playful pattern of his favorite superheroes symbol, adding to the childlike feel of his sleepwear. While not part of his outfit, Connor was covered with a soft, fleece blanket decorated with patterns of cartoon characters. The blanket was a comforting accessory that kept him warm as he slept.

    During his captivity and during the trials, the t-shirt he wore was now heavily worn, stained, and frayed at the edges. It was ripped from how tight it had become, due to him growing up. It had become grimy and ragged due to the exposure to the damp, cold conditions of the basement. His pajama shorts were torn and barely held together. They were dirty, and the fabric had deteriorated, exposing his skin to the harsh environments. Connor was mostly barefoot, the cold floors made his feet sore and exposed him to potential injury. The blanket he had with him was long gone, leaving him without the comforting warmth he once relied on.

    WEAPON. Crowbar. The same one the man used to kill him.

    FACE CLAIM. Levi Miller.

    fill out the realm form on discord.





    LIKES.
    Art and Crafting: Connor likes artistic activities, like making weird creations with glue, paper, etc.
    Drawing: Connor has a love for drawing. Drawing allows him to express his emotions and thoughts in a way words sometimes can’t.
    Books and Stories: Connor has always loved reading and getting lost in stories. He finds comfort in reading, especially kiddie picture stories with silly plots.
    Collecting Rocks: Connor had a hobby of collecting interesting rocks. This hobby connected him with nature and sparked his curiosity about the world around him.
    Exploring: Connor had a curious nature and loved exploring new places. He enjoyed the adventure and discovery.


    DISLIKES.


    Crowded Places: Before everything, Connor hated being in crowded places. He felt overwhelmed by large groups of people and preferred quieter environments.
    Loud Noises. Connor has always hated loud noises, since they disrupted his peace. After his years in captivity, sudden loud noises signaled danger or violence. The dislike grew into a fear. Loud sounds now trigger memories of his traumatic experiences.
    Being Controlled. As a child, Connor hated being told what to do or feeling restricted by rules. Even though he’d listen to rules for his mother's benefit, it didn't mean he liked them.
    Unanswered Questions. Connor has always been curious and hated when things didn't make sense or when people avoided answering his questions.
    Darkness. Before anything, Connor hated the dark, finding it scary. After spending years in a dimly lit basement, this dislike turned into a terrifying fear. The darkness now reminds him of isolation, fear, and hopelessness, making him anxious and uneasy whenever he's in a dark place.


    HOBBIES.


    Drawing: Before being kidnapped, Connor enjoyed drawing. His drawings were always imaginative, showing scenes from his favorite books, memories of moments he lived, or ideas from his own mind. Even after being abducted, he would use what he could to draw on the basement stone walls.
    Playing Outdoors: Connor loved spending time outdoors. Whether it was drawing with chalk on the sidewalks, playing with a ball, or playing on the playgrounds in parks. He was always curious about the world around him, always ready to discover new things around him.


    STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.


    ─ (+) Resourceful/Adaptable. Connor had become highly resourceful. A skill he developed from his years of having to survive in terrible circumstances. He learned to adapt quickly to his environment, using whatever he had around to stay alive. This resourcefulness and adaptability now makes him a big opponent, capable of thinking on his feet and finding solutions in even the most challenging situations.
    ─ (-) Emotional Instability. Connor's years of torment have left him emotionally fragile and unstable. His experiences have shattered his ability to process and maintain emotions normally. Sudden flashbacks, anger, and fear overwhelm him, making him unpredictable. His instability leaves him vulnerable to manipulation (Cough Couch the Entity) and can lead to destructive behavior.
    ─ (+) Determination.Despite everything he's been through, Connor has a strong determination. Once he sets his mind on a goal, whether it's survival, revenge, or fulfilling the Entity's demands, he will do it relentlessly. His determination makes him able to recover from challenges and setbacks and it pushes him to keep going.
    ─ (-) Dependency. Connor’s desire to get back what he’s lost has made him dependent on the Entity's promises. This dependency is a major weakness since it leaves him under the Entity’s control. His need for guidance and hope prevents him from thinking for himself. It makes him a puppet to the Entity’s. Without the Entity's words, Connor would feel lost and unable to function on his own.
    ─ (+) Awareness. Connor spent years in a state of fear and alertness, he has developed a good awareness of his surroundings. He can read people's intentions quickly, an instinct he picked up from years of trying to predict the man's next move. The awareness gives him an edge of navigating situations, making him difficult to surprise or outmaneuver.
    ─ (-) Paranoia. After years of being betrayed by the world and being alone in captivity, Connor has developed a sense of paranoia. He finds it nearly impossible to trust others, always assuming that they have motives or will harm him again. This paranoia isolates him further from both survivors and killers, preventing him from forming alliances or relationships that could help him.



    FEAR.


    Being alone. Having spent years by himself in confinement in the basement, Connor is haunted by the fear of being alone again. The loneliness he experienced left a deep scar within him. Even now, if he ever sees his mother or returns to his life again like the Entity promised, he fears being abandoned or forgotten all over again.
    Losing himself. As much as Connor has already lost his identity, his past, and his sense of self. He fears that one day he’ll lose whatever remains of his humanity. The Entity's influence clouds over him and he fears that if he continues to follow his commands, he will lose the last pieces of the parts that keep him sane, becoming nothing more than a tool for destruction.



    PSY.




    (+) Resilience. Despite being put through unimaginable horrors during his time kidnapped, Connor has an extraordinary inner strength. His resilience allows him to survive years of physical and psychological torture. Even when he lost all hope, something deep in him kept him alive. This strength defines him and even though it has been twisted by his experiences, it's the reason he still existed for so long.
    (+) Loyalty. Connor’s love for his mother never left him. Even when he forgot her face and name. Deep into his broken mind, the connection to her kept him fighting for survival. This loyalty to those he cares about defines his character. If he ever forms bonds again, he would protect those he loves with all his devotion, even if that means going to dark extremes.
    (+) Persistence. Throughout his time in the basement, Connor never truly gave up, even when he stopped screaming and fighting. His ability to continue despite all odds is a way of showing his willpower. This makes him a dangerous force. Once he sets his mind on something, he won't stop until it’s accomplished.
    (-) Vengeful. The years of torture have changed Connor's sense of justice, turning it into a hunger for vengeance. He believes that others must suffer like he did. His pain and fear pushes him to inflict that same pain and fear on others as a way of coping with his own trauma. This vengefulness drives his actions, leading him to have brutal behavior.
    (-) Bitter. Connor's long suffering has left him bitter and resentful. He has deep anger toward the world for allowing such a fate to fall on him. He struggles to see the good in anything, viewing his new life through the lens of his trauma.
    (-) Obsessed. Connor is consumed by the Entity's promise, which has become his only source drive. This obsession with regaining what he lost – his mother, the life he never had – drives him to do the Entity’s bidding without question. His focus on doing the Entity’s demands clouds his judgment, making him willing to sacrifice anything and anyone to achieve his goal, even if it means losing his humanity.











    abc's


    POWER.

    Boomerang:
    Connor has the ability of perfect aim. He uses his crowbar not just for beating and hitting, but as a boomerang. He can throw his crowbar to hit a survivor, whether it gets lodged into the survivor or not, it will come back to him no matter how far away he is. He can be yards away and still hit the survivor perfectly. He may only hit them if he can see them, if he can not see them or loses track of where they are, then he is not able to hit them from far away.

    Side Objective For Survivors:
    There are clues all around Connors realm. Due to being trapped for so long, Connor forgot everything. If a survivor can figure out his name or a small piece of information from his past and say it to Connor, it will cause him to freeze. He’ll freeze up trying to remember or freeze up remembering that piece of information. Either way, it will give the survivor enough time to escape. It can only be information that is true. If it is made up information or incorrect, Connor will not freeze up.



    THE MORI.

    Connor will use all the strength he has to throw the survivor to the ground. He will hold them to the ground and just stare at them like the man would stare at him. He’ll give it a few seconds, letting the fear he had to endure instill in them. Once he is done with his moment he’ll snap their arms and legs so they can’t go anywhere before doing the same to their neck and putting them out of their misery.



    BELONGINGS.

    - Box of crayons. Ones used by Connor when he’d sit in a booth and color on paper as his mother worked.
    - Cigarettes. The cigarettes he would see his mother using when she was stressed, whether it was outside the car or outside the restaurant.
    - A kiddie blanket. A small dark blue blanket with green and orange race cars on it. A blanket Connor would curl up into and sleep with in the backseat of the car.
    - A big gift wrapped box. The same gift the man used to lure seven year old Connor out of his car and into the back of his van.
    - A watch. A squared brown watch that the man would use to check the time. He would check it after he brought down Connors food, after he beat him, and after he watched him for hours.







    HISTORY


    BEFORE.
    Connor Flanigan was born on November 3rd, 2005, in Tulsa, Oklahoma. His biological father, Nathan, left before he was even born, unable to handle the responsibility of a child. This broke his mother, Daniella’s heart. She had just turned 18 when she found out she was pregnant, and her life had been on track. She was preparing to attend Yale, and her adoptive parents were proud of her. But Connor's arrival changed everything. Daniella's parents told her to get rid of the baby, they didn’t want her ruining her life this early on. She didn’t have the heart to do that though. She couldn’t just get rid of the child that could possibly be the greatest thing in her life.

    Daniella refused to get rid of the baby. It didn’t go well with her adoptive parents and so, they made her choose – them or the baby. If she chose them, they’d be there to support her, be there for the rest of her life. They just didn’t want their precious girl going downhill. If she chose the baby, well, then they’d kick her out of the house. She wouldn’t be able to live with them, they’d cut her bank accounts, and put her to the streets. They didn’t want to do that, but they did think if it was said, Daniella would choose them. She didn’t. She chose her baby. Daniella couldn’t stay with people who would force such a choice on her. Her whole life her adoptive parents have been there. Now when she needs them the most, they shove her to the curb.

    Daniella struggled on her own for a while. Living out of her car, unable to afford much, she couldn’t go to college because her parents had taken away her tuition. She had nowhere to go, barely enough to provide for herself, and now she was eating for two. It was tough, but Daniella made it work. She took on four jobs a day, saving every penny she could, at least enough to afford somewhere safe when her pregnancy progressed.

    When Connor was born, Daniella had only herself. But she had managed to make things work, and now it was time to meet her sweet baby. As soon as she held him, she burst into tears. The nine months of struggle had been worth it. Daniella never wanted to let go of Connor. His barely open eyes looked up at her, his tiny feet and arms wiggling in her embrace. She was in awe. She knew she had made the right choice to keep him. If she hadn’t, this little life she held in her arms wouldn’t be here. Daniella was grateful she hadn’t listened to her parents, if she did, she would have regretted it forever. Right then, she felt no regret.

    Growing up, Daniella and Connor were a team. Even from a young age, he helped his mother. He was a very bright and loving child. He was incredibly smart for his age, he knew how to comprehend things that kids his age wouldn’t. He understood that his mother was a young single mother trying her best to provide for the both of them. For that he loved her so much. They lived out of their car and he had to go to work with his mother, but he didn’t mind. He liked watching her work, watching from the diner tables as he colored with his crayons. Sitting behind the cash register reading and looking up at her from the floor. Even just sitting still in the kitchen as he watches her and all the other workers prepare food for the customers. Daniella was grateful that she had such an understanding child that didn’t complain or ask for things he knew she couldn’t afford. Of course it broke her heart to know she couldn’t get him things other kids had, or put him in school with others. Even just knowing he had to grow up in the life they had made her feel sad.

    Life was okay for them up until Connor was 7. It was one of those days where Daniella had to work a night shift. So she parked the car in the parking lot, leaving Connor alone to sleep in the car while she worked. Daniella and Connor both knew the drill for nights like this. Conner was not allowed to leave the car, talk to strangers, or open the door. Daniella would go and check on him every break she had and she would keep the doors locked at all times. Most of the times, Connor would be sleeping soundlessly while Daniella worked her nightshift but this wasn’t one of those nights. For some reason, Connor just couldn’t keep his little eyes shut or stop shifting and wiggling in the backseat. He had sitten up to see if he could see his mother through the restaurant windows from his spot in the car. The only light he had was the one from the restaurant windows and the lamp post by the car. Connor had spotted a man standing by his van towards the corner of the parking lot the restaurant couldn’t see. The man had a kind smile on his face and waved to Connor. He was startled but when the man pulled out a big gift wrapped present from his van, Connors eyes lit up.

    Connor was smart. He knew not to talk or go anywhere near strangers without his mother but the gift. He had never seen a box that big before. Connor never got anything nice, and he didn’t blame his mom but he really wanted that big gift. When the man waved for him to come over to him, Connor was hesitant. His little mind was racing all over the place and he knew he shouldn’t, but he was tired and really was just focused on the big gift. His little hand went to the button on the side of the door – and he unlocked it. The door came open with a swing and Connors little feet stepped out of the car. The cold night air sent chills through his little body as his bare feet walked over to the man. The man just stood there with a smile, putting the gift inside the van and beckoning Connor to join him inside the van.

    THE SHIFT.
    Years. Connor spent years in the man’s basement. No life for him to live. At some point, he lost his sanity. He no longer knew how old he was, couldn’t remember his name, and had forgotten what his mother looked like. The life he had before being taken was a distant, unrecognizable memory. For so long, he prayed and wished to see his mother again, to escape the basement he called hell. He used to scream, cry, yell, scratch at the walls, bang on the doors, but nothing ever came of it. Eventually, he learned that staying silent was the best option. Every day, the man came down to the basement. Sometimes to feed him, sometimes to beat him, and other times just to sit and watch him for hours. Every day, Connor thought it would be his last. He couldn’t even remember the day he lost all hope. He was terrified, miserable.

    Then came the day the man decided it was Connor's last. Connor knew something was wrong – there had been no food, no visits, nothing at all for the past week. He could feel it in his bones that this would be his last day. He spent the hours crying and yelling, no longer caring about the rules. When the basement door at the top of the stairs burst open, dread filled him. He stood in the middle, ready to fight, but as the man’s footsteps pounded down the stairs, he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Fear paralyzed him. He was like a deer in the headlights. When the man appeared at the bottom of the steps holding a crowbar, he just stared at Connor. Confused and terrified, Connor just wanted it to be over.
    He slowly stepped back as the man stalked closer, the only sounds being Connor’s scared breaths and the man’s aggressive ones echoing through the basement. When the man yelled and raised the crowbar, charging at Connor, he backed away tripping over his own feet. He fell to the ground and scooted back into a corner. The crowbar came down hard. Bang. Bang. Bang. Fog started appearing on the cold stone floor of the basement. The last thing Connor saw was the basement floor as the fog enveloped him. He felt dread, pain, and fear…until it all just stopped.
    NOW.
    Connor now stands in the middle of the basement, clutching the crowbar the man had used on him. The Entity whispers in his ears as he lingers in the darkness, the small singular light bulb above him on the ceiling, flickering on and off in uneven pauses. The wounds from the crowbar still open on Connor’s body, destined to stay open forever. The Entity had made him a promise. A promise that he would see his mother again and return to the time before he was taken – if, and only if, he did what was asked. He had to make the survivors endure the same dread and pain he had felt.



 
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  • /* --- base code --- */











    © akeno.




















    1989












    FULL NAME. Modupe Alistair

    D.O.B. February 8th

    P.O.B. New Orleans, Louisiana, USA

    GENDER. Male (He/Him)

    SEXUALITY. Heterosexual

    ALIAS. The Sprout

    ROLE. Hysteria

    SPECIES. Human. Troubled, but human.


    visage.


















    DESCRIPTION. Dark skin covered in scars, burns and blemishes that have all faded into his skin over time, hinting at how long they have been there. At 5'10" and a lean build, he's the type of guy you could walk past or even bump into and barely pay any mind.



    ATTIRE. The dark is his playground, his home, his comfort. He wraps himself in it. No matter what, he dons himself in a thick, dark, charcoal-coloured trench coat. His hands don't actually go through the sleeves, rather, he lets the coat hang on him by his shoulders, making him look bigger and wider than he actually is. The loose sleeves also add an extra element of surprise as his victims often mistake him for having no arms. The rest of his outfit is black as well. From the loose linen shirts and pants to his heavy, leather boots. His outfit alone seems to suck all the light around him, making him little more than ominous, heavy footsteps in the dark. His hair is dark brown, wavy and just past shoulder-length. It seems to have a permanent glisten to it, never looking dull or dry. What muscle he has is tight and lean rather than bulky, however they still pack a lot of power in each swing.



    WEAPON. A simple crowbar. Perhaps not the most effective weapon - but he is not doing it for the kill, he's doing it for the screams. A crowbar allows him take his time.



    FACE CLAIM. Maximillian from Vampire in Brooklyn (Eddie Murphy)



    fill out the realm form on discord.








    LIKES.
    Sweets
    Orchestral music
    Playing games
    A good fight
    Validation/Praise
    Kids (will pretty much never harm a kid)



    DISLIKES.


    Long silences
    Small, enclosed spaces
    Being bored
    The smell of burning flesh
    Being told he can't do something
    Weakness



    HOBBIES.


    Playing hide and seek with his nephews and nieces
    Pulling pranks on people
    Escape rooms



    STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.


    (+) Tactful
    (+) Relentless
    (+) Opportunistic

    (-) Tunnel-vision
    (-) Loud boots
    (-) Impulsive



    FEAR.


    Failure: He spent a lot of time not being good at anything and knows the humiliation of failure. His drive comes from never wanting to experience that failure again - it is why he takes it so personally if someone that he captured escapes.



    PSY.




    Virtues:
    • Refuses to hurt kids - Would rather face the wrath of the entity itself than harm a child
    • Reliable - If he says he's going to do it, it will be done. Just...don't ask how
    • Undaunted - 'If you can't fly, then run. If you can't run, then walk. If you can't walk, then crawl. By all means, keep moving forward' personified.
    Vices:
    • Deceitful - Uses lies and tricks to get into peoples head and throw them off balance
    • Proud - It is not uncommon for him to spend so much time messing with the survivors that they escape because he didn't hook them quick enough. This becomes a problem for the next group of survivors as now he just becomes more vicious.
    • Vengeful - Takes things personal quick. You hit and hurt him while trying to get away? You get a Mori. You escape or help someone else escape? You get a mori too.












    abc's


    POWER.

    In The Walls
    He can cause any part of his body to grow out of any surface that he has previously marked with chalk. For clarity, he doesn't grow an extra one of this body part, rather the existing body part leaves his body and appears somewhere else. Most commonly, he makes his eyes appear on a wall and scope out an area but, for that time period, he cannot see the area around his original body. As the body part is still his, any damage it suffers stays when he returns the part to his original body. That's why he typically doesn't use larger parts of his body as those are easier to notice and therefore damage. This body part also carries his presence with him and so activates his perk in the area.

    Side objective for survivors:
    Be on the lookout for walls with tallies. If you are able to wipe these marks off, you limit the number of walls he can spy on you from.



    THE MORI.

    His mori uses his power. He takes a small piece of chalk and tosses it into the survivor's mouth, forcing them to swallow it and he grows his hand out of the markings the chalk makes inside them (think chestbursters from Alien)



    BELONGINGS.

    • Chalk: Single sticks of chalk left scattered around the map and used to mark walls to activate his power
    • Children's Picture Book: A tie to what little humanity he has left. He'd read from this book to his nephews and nieces every night he was with them to put them to sleep.
    • Disassembled Electric Chair: Source of what broke his mind so he broke it. He still uses it for killing but now he does it the way he feels it should be done - the right way.
    • Prison Uniform: Dirty, tattered and bloody prison uniform from when he went on his rampage in the prison.
    • Slasher mask: A memento he kept from the first time he successfully scared somebody - the first time he successfully did anything.







    HISTORY


    BEFORE.
    Modupe was born as a regular child to a regular family save one thing - for all his boisterous energy, he was gloriously inept. He was slow to walk, to talk and didn't pick things up very quickly. When all society around you progresses at double the rate, in makes for a very challenging childhood. There was no derogatory name he wasn't called and there was very little joy to be find in quietly going through motions that he barely knew. Eventually, he would learn. He'd learn to walk, to talk, learn a trade, he picked things up eventually. But even then, he was average at best.

    It wasn't until his twelfth birthday that he discovered the one talent he had. What few friends he had - street rats, honestly - decided that they were going to pull a prank on some of the other street kids. It was meant to be harmless. It was meant to be quick. However, the people he called friends would turn out to be cowards; running away at the first sign of trouble when they noticed that the other kids were bigger and more than they had thought. When Modupe was ready to pull the prank, he looked over his shoulder and saw that he was alone, abandoned by his friends. They betrayal he felt was his fuel. He'd go ahead with the prank and maybe once, just this once, earn a little respect.

    He watched and waited, waiting for their guard to be down and then, bloodied and with his slasher mask, he gave his best impression of a crazy laugh and ran at the kids. Their screams rang through the streets and they had been so consumed by fear that they didn't realise that it was a 5-on-1 situation and even if he was a threat, 5 of them should have been enough. All they did was scream and cry for help as they ran. Those screams...those screams...they tickled his ear; lit up his heart in a way he hadn't previously known was possible.

    It was control. It was power. It was validation.

    It was the first time he had felt like he had done something right and it would become his obsession, his purpose. He would search for new ways to incite fear in those around him. New ways to get people to...scream for him. Unfortunately for him, those around him drank it up like fresh water from a desert oasis. It became his reputation. He was the prankster. A damn good one. A part of him felt guilty doing it but if this is what caused him to be accepted, then he would gladly play this role.



    THE SHIFT.
    He'd been set down a dangerous path. Once again, his demise came at the hands of people he called friends. There was a rich family in the neighborhood that had moved in recently and the kids were a little too pompous for the liking of Dupe's 'friends'. The plan was just to break in and rough them up a little bit. They all broke in and ran through the house, grabbing its inhabitants roughly and throwing them on the ground. It was savage and bloody and even Dupe knew that this was wrong. However something happened that changed everything for him.

    With the whole family on the floor in front of him and his friends, he saw something that stirred a memory within him. They looked terrified. It was the same look the kids from his first prank had. But this was different, it was more...intense. In this one moment, he felt more power and control than he'd felt previously. He'd discovered something new and he wanted to explore it.

    And explore it he did. He would put on his slasher mask and go round breaking into people's houses and beating them up. He found that a crowbar was just small and hard enough to carry around easily but do just enough damage with. The way they'd scream and beg for mercy from him made his head spin. It was euphoric. He justified himself by saying that he wasn't actually killing them. He was just scaring them a bit. He just wanted to hear them scream. He just wanted to do what he was good at. Surely that wasn't so bad.

    He could tell himself that lie until he got carried away one day. It was meant to be the usual thing, but he'd had a particularly stressful week and had a particularly high amount of frustration to let out. He got his screams, he got his pleas for mercy, but he kept swinging. And he kept swinging until the pleas turned to whispers, until screams turned to gasps. And still he swung, until it was silent. He had gone too far. And he didn't know it until he wondered why it was so quiet.

    Euphoria was instantly replaced by fear and regret. He got on his knees and now he was the one begging, begging for them to wake up. Begging for them to open her eyes. And he begged until the police came. He begged in the police car. And he begged as he found out that he'd be put on death row.

    Day after day, more people would meet the electric chair. The only word he could find for this was torture. He'd killed his first person and the thought still made him want to throw up. And they were just doing it like it was taking out the trash. And each day, he knew that his turn was coming. He would scratch tally's on his cell of how many days he'd been in there for, slowly counting the days until his execution. When his execution day came, he refused to go out that way. He fought and bucked and to run. He knew it was futile, but at least he could say that he tried. His uniform got ripped and bloodied from the fight with the officers as they dragged him to the chair.

    "Get me out of here! Get me out of here! Please, I'll do anything!"




    Anything?



    NOW.
    He remembered begging for mercy. He remembered wanting to escape. Now he was here, wherever 'here' was. His role had been explained to him. He knew what this 'entity' wanted from him but he didn't like this twisted game. The entity, however, had promised that he'd never need to kill anyone unless he really wanted to. He just needed to scare them and catch them. And as long as he caught them and kept them, the entity would take care of the rest. That was a fair enough deal. However, if he was given the jail to shape in his image...he'd be making some changes.


 
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SURVIVOR. BOTANY KNOWLEDGE.




/* --- base code --- */











© akeno.




















2001












FULL NAME. APOLLINE SÚKENÍKOVÁ

D.O.B. march 14, 1977

P.O.B. zokopane, ukraine

GENDER. cis female. she/her.

SEXUALITY. bisexual.

OCCUPATION. new graduate, veterinarian surgeon’s assistant, just completed residency for cardiothoracic surgery

SKILLS. extensive knowledge on medicinal and diagnostic practices, utilization of natural remedies, nature smart

ROLE. survivor. botany knowledge.




visage.


















DESCRIPTION. cool-toned skin with the lightest natural flush, only flared in bright pink across her cheeks and nose in stress or anger, muddied pale green eyes reflecting towards others in constant wishful thinking or indecision–her eyes wide and rounded with sincerity and a gentle nature even so. subtle shadow depicting quiet fatigue that’s clung below her eyes for a life time. a face softly angular, characterized by her sharp features. cheek bones curving into a soft heart shape down towards her chin. the softest wild honey brown, muted gold toned high lights in hair that falls just below her shoulders–textured and cut by her own hands. scars marr her wrists up to her elbows, some silvered into ghost-like traces while others bare a slight swell–a quiet testament to her life’s greatest struggles. a frame that conveys both delicacy and strength–once a swimmer, her shoulders and upper body still bare remnants of her time in pools. once strictly compact and lean, now more hollowed. like a sketch of her former self.



ATTIRE. a soft mohair baby blue zip-up hoodie, fitted to her ribbed white tank-top–muted camel brown lace trim at the neckline. a tiny silver chain with a silver 4-leaf clover charm attached. hi-waisted classic blue denim flare pants–softened and worn out, distressed at the bottom hems from wear upon wear. classic black chucks with white laces, also worn out from everyday use.

a black spandex high neck zip up with thumb-hole sleeves now replaces the once cherished mohair jacket, something she picked up during her time in her new reality. also an insulated coat, she was gifted that she ties over one shoulder across her body just in case she gets cold.



FACE CLAIM. mélanie laurent








LIKES.

herbs and greens. while she wasn’t technically a proclaimed vegetarian, leen often included greens in 70% of her diet. she loved to cook with them, experiment with different kinds–never picky, just curious of what they could offer to her health. herbs were a must-have on her at all times, for light medicinal purposes to teas to calming agents. she loved to share her knowledge of their benefits or gift them to those she loved most and was very passionate of their various uses.

people watching. apolline loved to stand out on her tight balcony and watch the rooftops and other balconies like her own bustle with life or even glance thoughtfully of the absence of life from them. at parks, she could never help herself from taking even half an hour to waste her time observing other’s lives in a peaceful look-out spot. she scouted for good areas when she wasn’t busy. sometimes, she’d journal her discoveries.

learning. reading everything from literature, poetry, historical accounts, how-to’s, hell–even the dictionary at one point. apolline felt a strong gravitation towards memorizing as much as she could about this world. learning languages is one of her passions. she loved to take free classes on most anything in her city.

children. having kids one day was always on apolline’s mind since she was a small child. she loves everything about them, finding them fascinating and often volunteering at ‘Škola v prírode’, a program to introduce and connect children to nature.



DISLIKES.

the cold. so much so, she’s cried. her fear of it stems from stressors in her childhood. to counteract this, she had always equipped herself with blankets and good coats instead of spending money on other clothing items. always candles, always paid her heat bill on time.

being the center of attention. growing up on the shyer side with not much outward support from her parent’s in her endeavors and interests quieted her. she prefers to share herself with close confidants or strangers if it’s 1 on 1. she’ll speak up if she really has to, but it makes her heart race terribly so.

long hallways, open fields especially filled with darkness. for some reason the abundance of space with nothing to fill it brings her some anxiety, thus why her home was always very maximilist.

heartless actions. these include neglect of children and animals, one of the only things in life that’s ever really enraged her. she’s quick to protect either and has many times before in her volunteering work. she’s the type of person to not be able to hold her tongue to violence or abuse happening in public.




HOBBIES.

Apolline's favorite hobby was volunteering at a local children’s camp as a nature director, where she taught kids about plants, natural remedies, and the beauty of nature. She was passionate about all her philanthropic efforts, frequently volunteering at soup kitchens and boys' and girls' clubs throughout Trnava.



STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.

( + ) extensive understanding of medicine and the human body.
( + ) meticulous with a steady hand in the case of administering emergency surgery, unwavered by the sights of the grotesque in moments of dire need.
( + ) expertise in general diagnostics, skills picked up from her time doing rounds.
( + ) craftiness, utilization of objects or outside medicinal properties to heal.
( + ) self-sacrificial, compulsive aid, to the point of throwing her own life under the bus to ensure
( + ) the safety of others, she will be there if she’s able.
( + ) nature smart, having spent lots of time in nature and learning the beneficial's to harmful's.

( - ) depression-induced hallucination. her sadness never clouds her willingness to aid or her knowledge, but there have been times where she’s been lost in her own thoughts and seen or heard things that may not really be there. her eyes and ears can play tricks on her and if she’s vocal about them, it may confuse others.

( - ) survivor’s guilt. apolline desperately hates losing others, often taking it very hard especially if she’s suffered no physical consequences. always pushing herself too hard and needing to have done more to change situations that may have not been her fault at all.

( - ) fear of the cold. the one thing that can send apolline over the edge is on the off chance she’s left bare to face harsh elements, something that has never happened but something she often has nightmares of. being from the tatra mountain’s means her threshold of surviving the cold is very high, but it can definitely cloud her judgement if she’s feeling the stress of an unforgivingly freezing climate.

( - ) morning sickness. an unexplainable sense of naseua washes over her at random, prompting her to either leave the situation and dry heave or throw up. perhaps because of the overlap between having her baby and her reality being ripped out from underneath her, her brain plays tricks on her thinking she still harbors a pregnancy.



FEAR.


─ the bitter cold



PSY.




include from three to five virtues and vices. elaborate on how they would be with other survivors - if they're stubborn, how would they deal with trials? if they're afraid, how would they deal with their fear?

Apolline is relatively quiet, often lost in thought and somewhat distant due to her persistent depression. She's very sweet to especially those she finds connection with, but more often is she plagued by a new-found soft spoken silence.

Despite her own struggles, she consistently assures survivors of her unwavering support, even if their relationship is strained or unusual. Due to occasional hallucinations, she might speak softly to herself or ask others if they can see or hear what she perceives. This can be unsettling for some survivors, so she makes a concerted effort to keep her inner turmoil from affecting her surroundings. Though she manages her fear well, the cold tends to exacerbate her stress and cloud her thinking.

Apolline occasionally experiences random morning sickness, which can cause her to dry heave. Stress tends to make this symptom worse, adding to her overall discomfort.

Apolline’s survivor’s guilt weighs heavily on her whenever she loses people to the Killers. She is exceptionally hard on herself, and managing these feelings can be challenging, often making her emotional turmoil difficult to contain.











abc's


BELONGINGS.
tatra’s embrace. delicate filigree of silver that mimic that of the tatra mountain ridges, a center piece of deep blue topaz stones with white topaz gems surrounding it. a prized possession of apolline’s that was lost in the shift.

infant frock. a-lined silhouette, flaring out from bodice to hem–neckline gently scalloped. pristine white and adorned with 3 tiny yellow daisy blooms at the center of the chest. reserved for her lost baby, lost once again.

herbal satchet. intricately embroidered organza sachet sewed with a nude velvet ribbon w/ white lace trim. durable yet holds lavender that starkly permeates, something she always had on her. something she longs to smell again.

razor blade. not proud of her once dire need for this keep sake. always there to relieve her stress, yet still to keep her down. she always had it on her, now she’s had to learn to live without it as it harms more than helps.

music box. compact, made of mahogany and adorned with brass and wood burn of a sleeping deer. connected to it is a brass-finished crank. metal combs produce the sound of the principal theme of liszt’s liebestraume no.3 : nocturne in a-minor. a special gift hand made for her by a past lover before he died in the soviet-afghan war. she misses this dearly.







HISTORY

trigger warning: abusive home, abusive relationship, self-harm, loss of pregnancy

BEFORE.

Apolline was born to the town butcher and his young wife in Zakopane, a quaint settlement nestled at the base of the Tatra Mountains. Their home was a modest cabin situated behind their butchery, where Apolline grew up immersed in their small family business and the care of her paternal grandmother, who also lived with them.

From a young age, Apolline was a vibrant spirit, reveling in the company of the livestock on their small ranch and chattering endlessly about everything and anything. Despite the family’s financial struggles, particularly during the harsh winter months, they managed to scrape by. Her father, a stern and distant man with a formidable temper, showed little interest in Apolline’s upbringing. Her mother, just seventeen when Apolline took her first steps, was a kind yet reserved woman, lacking formal education. At the time, her mother's undiagnosed Asperger’s and aggressive early-onset dementia went unnoticed. She could only manage to entertain Apolline for brief periods, often leaving her to amuse herself or participate in after-school programs, which only fueled Apolline’s mischievousness.

The atmosphere at home was further strained by her paternal grandmother, whose frequent and harsh beratings of Apolline’s mother for even the smallest infractions added to the household’s tension. Apolline struggled to comprehend the source of her grandmother’s relentless anger, feeling the weight of familial discord as she navigated her formative years.

Whenever Apolline angered her father, his rage would drive him to throw her outside and lock the doors behind her. She would be left to wander in the cold, returning again and again to pound on the doors and plead for forgiveness. During the day, it was somewhat bearable, but at night, she would shiver from the cold and cry out until she was let back in. As she grew older, her father's cruelty only intensified. With a passive mother and a grandmother just as harsh, all equally terrified of him, Apolline felt perpetually vulnerable to his punishment.
At sixteen, Apolline started meeting with a girl, Elia,—a close friend whose connection had first been introduced through her family's ties to the butchery. Upon hearing of this romantic relationship from the girl’s own father, it provoked her father’s wrath and took Apolline completely by surprise.

He yanked her from her bed in the dead of night, his furious voice slicing through the stillness and driving her out into the biting cold. The wind howled mercilessly, but even through it, Apolline could hear her father's enraged shouts echoing from within the house.

Instead of waiting around crying like she always did, Apolline fled into the night, her heart pounding as she raced through the frigid darkness in nothing but her boots, thermals, and sleeping dress. Directionless, she stumbled upon a night train–slowing into a roll and about to exit the small town. Seizing the chance for escape, she slipped into a train cabin, blending herself amid the cargo. With desperate resolve, she made her way to the rear of the car, where a layer of hay provided a makeshift refuge among the sheep. The warmth of the hay and the rhythmic rocking of the train soon lulled her into a quick slumber. By morning, she awoke to the gentle prodding of the animal tender, the harsh reality of her flight softened by the fleeting embrace of sleep and a bright morning.

The animal tender’s mother took pity on Apolline, welcoming her into her home and treating her like one of her own children alongside her four sons. In this new, nurturing environment, Apolline found a place where she thrived, growing into a young woman with a fervent passion for medical science. Her new life led her to Trnava, where she moved to pursue her education with dedication. Despite these positive changes, a persistent void lingered in her heart, a remnant of her painful past. The shadows of her past haunted her with night terrors—guilt over leaving her sweet mother behind, regret for abandoning Elia without a word, and even the betrayal of her father.


THE FOG.

Seeking escape from her tumultuous thoughts, Apolline often found herself in bars after long nights of studying, wandering through red-light districts in search of distraction. It was there she met Arden Van Vliet, a jazz percussionist from one of Europe’s most prestigious conservatories. Their romance ignited quickly, and they became inseparable throughout her university years. Arden’s severe addiction to pharmaceutical opiates should have alarmed her, but instead, it intrigued her, and she found herself drawn to the drug’s effects. Their relationship, while deeply passionate, soon encountered severe challenges. Arden’s addiction not only jeopardized his dream of becoming the main drummer for a renowned jazz quartet but also led to a serious car crash that worsened his condition. Apolline, determined to support him, found herself enmeshed in his struggles, even resorting to forging signatures to obtain drugs for them both.

When Apolline became pregnant, she convinced Arden to seek sobriety with her. She painted a hopeful vision of a future away from the chaos of the city—a life with a stable income from her medical career, surrounded by nature, where Arden could record his music and they could build a family they would cherish. Initially, they made a concerted effort to change their lives, but Arden’s struggle with addiction proved more formidable than anticipated. By the time Apolline was halfway through her pregnancy, she had managed to stay clean, but Arden’s failure to do the same created additional strain. Despite her burgeoning medical career and her determination to stay positive for the baby’s sake, her life seemed to unravel further. Arden’s relapse drove him deeper into his addiction, leaving Apolline, eight months pregnant, facing tremendous hardship. She indulged in other harmful vices to combat her stressors, self-harming being the worst of them. Apolline was recognizing just how fearful she was of bringing a child into this world, when she herself felt still like a lonely, wandering child. She wanted to change, but nothing around her seemed to be going right. It was a torturous pregnancy to say the least.

Induced into premature labor, she endured ten grueling hours alone, with Arden arriving only during her final moments of consciousness. Feverish and disoriented, Apolline felt a strange, overwhelming sensation as if she were being transported from her hospital bed to a new, unforgiving reality.

NOW.

She awoke not in the world she knew but in a dark, damp, and desolate forest, where towering trees and a chilling breeze surrounded her. She tightened her mohair jacket and pulled up her hood, wincing from the pain in her abdomen. Her baby was gone—vanished as if it had never existed—yet the ache inside her remained, an inexplicable reminder of the loss she had endured, something she’d carry for the rest of her days in this hellish lair.

 
Last edited:





  • /* --- base code --- */











    © akeno.




















    2142












    FULL NAME. Rowan Munday
    D.O.B. January 12, 2114
    P.O.B. Creston, British Columbia

    GENDER. Male, He/Him
    SEXUALITY. Homosexual

    OCCUPATION. Engineer turned survivalist.

    SKILLS. A special interest in tinkering propelled Rowan through life and came especially in handy when the world as he knew it ended.
    ROLE. Technician


    visage.


















    DESCRIPTION. Rowan Munday stands at five feet ten inches tall at the age of twenty-eight. Due to his circumstances, not much care has been put towards appearances. His face is scraggly and the dark brunette hair upon his head has been cut short only for means of convenience. Physically though, Rowan has a lean amount of muscle beneath skin paled from a lack of sunlight and nutrition. He certainly had enough free time to spend a portion of it keeping fit through a tired cycle of excercises.



    ATTIRE. Rowan doesn't have a big commitment towards his clothing garb, preferring function over fashion. His choice is often a plain, neutral coloured t-shirt and a well-used pair of jeans. He also often boasts a pair of grey coveralls accented with a deep blue, particularly when doing work or going through the muck and mud of trials. A pair of round, thin-framed glasses that sit upon his face have probably seen better days.



    FACE CLAIM. Conor Murphy








    LIKES.
    ─ Reading technical manuals, strawberry flavours, word puzzles, nature sounds, romcoms



    DISLIKES.


    ─ Routine disruption, inactivity, horror movies, fishing, large bodies of water



    HOBBIES.


    ─ Work and play were often intermingled for Rowan as he grew up and into adulthood. He was the kid that enjoyed school and never complained about homework and as he discovered his enjoyment of working with machines and electronics he curved his education in that direction. Any clubs that he would join would focus on those same topics of tinkering, time spent outside of classes was spent on activities to get more credits. By the time he entered the workforce, Rowan was more than prepared. Except for the social aspect. He found it difficult to relate to his other co-workers so soon he was trying to adapt to their own interests, digesting the latest media so there was something relatable to talk about or trying to kickstart conversations into his own passions before they could stray into something unfamiliar.



    STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.


    (+) Resourceful. Rowan has had to make-do with very little. He has taken the knowledge learned and skills honed to make somethings out of nothings.

    (+) Autonomous. Surviving the trials is often a team effort, but that doesn't mean Rowan won't take the initiative if he needs to provide a distraction by himself or work on an objective alone.

    (+) Dedicated. Rowan will throw himself into his tasks with abandon. As long as everything goes right, one would be hard-pressed to put a stop to his tempo.

    (-) Cynical. If one thing goes wrong, it's all over. Rowan is prone to fits of despair if something doesn't go exactly the way it panned out in his head.

    (-) Brazen. Rowan isn't exactly used to working with people. Not for several years anyways. When he sets his mind and hands upon a task, he wants it done his way because he assumes it is more efficient without waiting to hear the opinion of others. After getting this far in life, or death, how could he be wrong?

    (-) Tunnel vision. Sometimes he will get so wrapped up in his current objective that he fails to take notice of what else is going on around him, sometimes to the detriment of himself or others.


    FEAR.


    When Rowan first confined himself to the underground bunker, there was a panicked loneliness that had settled deep into his mind. No one was here and no one was coming. However, it was something he could grow used to as time inevitably passed by with no prejudice. As that happened, something else took its place. How long would he have power that kept the lights above him illuminating the almost claustrophobic spaces? His heart jumped each time they would flicker, wondering if he would finally be plunged into an over-encumbering darkness. Fated to stumble through the shelter that was once familiar but now foreign and terrifying. And there was nothing he could do to prevent it.



    PSY.




    Rowan often throws himself into his tasks with a hundred percent effort. He holds a steady passion for anything that catches his interest. That enthusiasm has the potential to come back and bite the survivor however, getting so wrapped up in it that he shirks other responsibility.

    A prison sentence of loneliness has left Rowan vulnerable, quietly craving any sort of attention and affection. He is likely to latch on to anyone he can find who will give him the time of day, whether they have good or bad intentions. This also means he is quick to try and present himself in a genuine manner, something that could be considered a double-edged sword. Rowan isn't afraid to voice what is on his mind when the situation calls for it, even if it might upset someone. At the same time, it means he can and will fess up to wrong-doings even if it takes a bit of effort and doesn't come immediately.











    abc's


    BELONGINGS.

    Packet of seeds. A small and unlabeled brown paper envelope containing a handful of seeds. Rowan had to adapt when it came to learning autonomous survival on the fly which included developing a source of renewable food.

    Batteries. A couple of small batteries that were saved for a flashlight that went unused, now long gone.

    Handheld game device. Every minute spent was cherished, a temporary break from reality, played until the last drop of power was gone.

    Geiger counter. A handheld device to be used when Rowan made it to the surface. Something he never managed to accomplish before the Fog took him.

    Small novel. A choose-your-own-adventure book Rowan has had since he was a child. Reading material to keep the mind sharp- if it wasn't geared towards such a younger age group. Still, the pages are dog-eared with love and he's more than likely to have memorized every possible route and outcome at this point.







    HISTORY


    BEFORE. There was little to be desired in Rowan Munday's life. He was quickly crowned a light prodigy as a child, displaying an excellence in his educational journey. Anything mechanical or electronic was something he craved to learn about and work with. It took him into the shoes of an engineer, quickly finding a firm to work at with his high test scores and recommendations from professors.

    It wasn't Rowan's first choice, the company mainly working in militaristic technologies. The idea of the violence that all this progress being made was contributed towards never sat right with him. But the praise was undeniable and so it was a concern shoved to the back of his mind and locked away with a smile.

    Having this connection to the conflicts of the world meant that Rowan could see the signs of impending danger. Threats tossed carelessly about by leaders now warping into something more tangible and threatening. He couldn't say he was exactly surprised when the sirens began screech, a signal of the very real danger approaching.

    Maybe it was sheer luck that Rowan had been working overtime, many people barely having time to collect themselves and rush to safety. The facility he was at had a shelter beneath the basement, something he scrambled towards in haste. Prying open the heavy hatch, Rowan slipped inside before everything went nuclear. Alone but alive.



    THE FOG. How long had it been? Several years for sure. Rowan had lost count at two-thousand-three-hundred and seventy-seven days. At that point, was there any use to keep counting the time that passed him by? What was he even counting towards? No one was coming. He was alone beneath the ruined and radiated earth, barely surviving day by day.

    A sense of hopelessness seized his chest, gripping his heart in an almost suffocating clamp between strong jaws. His vision blurred, tears welled up and splotted against his glasses that could have used a good cleaning anyways.

    Like a programmed robot, he was stuck in a routine that almost seemed pointless the longer that time dragged on. Wake up, exercise, make sure the small amount of crops were growing well, check on all the technical parts of the bunker, exercise again, and then sleep. Even the strongest of hearts would find it hard-pressed to keep up hope when it was difficult to find a light at the end of the tunnel to reach towards.

    Fuck it. He'd go outside for the first time in what felt like forever. There was a fear towards the uncertainty of what sort of carnage he would find. Waste and devastation and likely no longer habitable, but Rowan was tired of being cooped up alone and barely living.

    As he approached the tightly sealed hatch and gripped the vault wheel with sweaty hands, a fog began to seep into the bunker, eventually covering everything in a suffocating darkness.



    NOW. Rowan isn't sure if this is better or worse than his previous life. Obviously there is a point to be had that suffering death after death in the most gruesome of ways isn't exactly a walk in the park, but there are other people. He isn't alone any longer and even if not everyone may get along, it's better than a deafening, hollow silence.


 
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  • /* --- base code --- */











    © akeno.




















    1985












    FULL NAME. simone leroux
    D.O.B. september 15th, 1956. twenty-nine
    P.O.B. toulon, france
    GENDER. woman, she/her
    SEXUALITY. lesbian

    ALIAS. the chef
    ROLE. save the best for last
    SPECIES. human


    visage.


















    DESCRIPTION.
    simone has an oval face with sharp cheekbones and round, icy blue eyes. the bridge of her nose is straight and her nose is round, residing over thin lips. her dark brown hair is parted at the side and is wavy down to her shoulders, often pulled into a pony-tail or bun at work and her face rarely donned makeup, not wanting to stick out amongst her male-dominated, often sweaty field.

    after being taken by the entity, her teeth grew sharper, her nails much longer. her face is gaunt, body hungry for the food the entity dangles just out of her reach.


    ATTIRE.
    she often opted for the practical clothes, a typical white or black button up and black slacks that her job called for, but when she wasn’t at work, she would still end up in some version of that uniform. a white t shirt and black pants, sometimes overalls or button ups. her style was more masculine, never really being seen in skirts or dresses.

    when she was taken, she was in her work uniform: black slacks and a black short sleeved button up, her apron stored away at the kitchen. in the trials, her white apron has been returned, bloodstained and dirty.


    WEAPON. cleaver knife - a large knife with a wooden handle and large curved metal blade with an abstract design etched into it

    FACE CLAIM. Bridget Regan



    fill out the realm form on discord.




    LIKES.

    ★ nature. when it comes to the outdoors, she enjoys exploring the forests and beaches around her hometown, on a very similar peninsula to her realm
    ★ creativity. she mostly exercised this in the kitchen, experimenting with different foods to make something new
    ★ fire. always a bit of a pyromaniac, the beauty of the flame entices her with its colors and its ability to influence so many things
    ★ cooking. her biggest passion in life, she loves pushing the limit of flavor and trying new things, making things people enjoy and enrich their lives
    ★ mathematics. her passion before she found cooking, she still enjoys how precise mathematics are and how everything has to fall in place just so for a problem to be correct


    DISLIKES.


    ★ mess. a very clean person, simone can’t stand it when things are messy – dirt is one of the things that irk her the most. if she wasn’t at work, she was cleaning her apartment spotless
    ★ weak people. she pulled herself up with her own grit and determination, so if someone else can’t she just sees them as weak and worthless
    ★ being ignored. used to being ignored, she won’t accept that in her life now – she was meant for greatness and you will listen to her
    ★ intolerance. though she’s intolerant of certain things, she doesn’t allow for bigotry. if someone is cruel for the sake of what someone looks like or their lifestyle, she won’t stand for it
    ★ her mother. the source of all of her strife, the reason why she agonizes over everything being perfect and can’t let go to the point of annoyance for others, leaving her to have social issues despite her best attempts at being better



    HOBBIES.

    ★ cycling. she always tried to stay active when not in the kitchen. she wasn’t one for going to the gym, so she opted for riding bikes – it was good for her solitary nature as well.



    STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.


    (+) charming simone has spent most of her life behind a carefully constructed facade – though she doesn’t care much for other people’s feelings, she has learned how to use her words to charm others for what she wants. sometimes what she wants is a friend, sometimes it can be more nefarious, like information. either way, she knows how to sweet talk others.

    trial: it’s possible that simone can sweet talk her way into a survivor’s friendship, convincing them that they are special or that she has something to offer them. in the end, simone’s one goal is to feast. she has no use for others any more. however, when it comes to the other killers, she will have little trouble making allies amongst them.

    (+) meticulous simone’s plans are painstaking, she tries to prepare for every possible outcome and when it comes to tasks, she is very detail oriented. she was one of the best at plating in her culinary classes and in the kitchen. she has a steady hand and does things just so.

    trial: in the trials, this means that she tries to look ahead and see things from the survivor’s point of view. this is not to sympathize with them, but to understand them in order to see what their next plan would be in order to be ahead of them. however, she’s grown a little sloppy under the entity’s grasp, and when things don’t go her way, she gets upset.

    (+) passionate despite her denial, simone feels things very strongly, and has lots of those feelings. before, her passions were mostly towards what she could accomplish. but when astrid came along, it opened something in her and she started feeling passionate about a person and her passionate nature really began to bloom.

    trial: even now, she can’t help but feel passionate about things. now, she’s passionate about her craving, how to get it at any cost. but sometimes… a survivor breaks through her haze and she grows fond of them.

    (-) ravenous even before the discovery of her longing for flesh, simone has always hungered for something – before, she thought the feeling was truly symbolic. it was a burning desire in her heart to be something, turn herself into someone she wanted to see in the mirror. she was always striving for more, pushing herself harder despite what it did to herself and the others around her.

    trial: after she discovered that her “burning desire” was really an empty clawing feeling in her belly, she is hungrier than ever, vicious in her quest to consume. even eating won’t fill the void, a gluttony possessing her like never before.

    (-) callous simone doesn’t care much for the feelings of others, not understanding people who are driven by their emotions. she was driven by her own desires, not letting any sadness or even momentary happiness get in the way of her goals. she simply became callous to even her own feelings, distancing herself from them. her callous nature tends to put others off because it doesn’t make it easy to connect with her.

    trial: she doesn’t tend to show mercy to survivors that she doesn’t feel a particular affinity for. she doesn’t care about the survivors’ reactions or pain and sees them as little more than cattle for slaughter.

    (-) impatient since she knows what she wants, she isn’t keen on waiting to get it. she doesn’t have the patience for people getting in her way and doesn’t have time to play games. the times that simone most often shows her negative emotions is when she’s impatient, often complaining or having outbursts about it despite not meaning to.

    trial: she doesn’t have much time for the survivors who like to play games, losing her patience on the ones who tend to fight back and rescue their friends. she will shift her attention to the survivors that do this, wanting to wipe them out first and leave the weaker ones behind (unless this fighter is her obsession, who she will always save for last)



    FEAR.


    ★ losing control: while she likes control of everything, she understands she can’t control every aspect of her life. however, when it comes to herself, she’s always had immaculate self-discipline. she’s held herself back from most things – never being one for luxury, spending most of her time in dedication to her craft, work or school. something else controlling her, or losing the carefully constructed hold on her facade is what she fears most.
    ★ failure: her whole life was built on running away from failure – her parents were thinly veiled failures, obviously displeased with their lot in life, and she wouldn’t be like them… she couldn’t be



    PSY.





    Prone to losing her patience, Simone easily becomes furious – this is something she’d often struggle with in her life before. Holding back her emotions left them to be pent up, often leading to explosions that left destruction within her wake. Whether that was in class, at home, or ultimately in the kitchen, she would often throw her own form of tantrum when she wouldn’t get her way. She’s thrown things at her siblings and classmates and nearly burnt down a kitchen. Her fury is likely what holds her back from promotion – how is she supposed to lead a kitchen if she can’t keep her cool?

    in the trial, this manifests as her quickly losing her patience on the survivors, flying off the rails whenever things don’t go just so, her actions unpredictable.


    Simone can’t help it when a thought won’t leave her head – she can become extremely obsessive. This includes obsessing over what outcomes can happen, over a specific person, or over a concept. An idea for a recipe will seize her and she can’t help but think about it until she gets it out of her head and onto a plate. When it comes to people, she was never obsessed with someone she knew until Astrid came into the picture, but she’d obsess over her idols – a famous chef, mathematician or scholar that she enjoyed the ideas of. She’d go to any lecture or travel across the country to go to try a dish at a specific restaurant.

    in the trial: when there’s a survivor that intrigues her, she can’t help but think about them – it’s not always an infatuation, it’s not always logical, sometimes it’s just someone that fascinates her. This can manifest in her seeking the person out in the trial – not always to kill them, sometimes to watch them or try to charm them for the next trial. It also leads her to obsessing over a specific strategy for the game, or an idea about where she is – when memories come back to her, she obsesses until she can figure out where she came from.

    With Simone’s tendency for rage, she can be very reactionary in the moment. While she likes to think things through before, once she’s in the thick of something she can’t always control her reactions to things. This leads to her tantrums and tendency to explode on others.

    in the trial: when survivors mess with her plan or throw her off guard, she can become very reactionary and explode on them. it can lead her to being unpredictable to survivors or her peers.

    when she has a fascination or interest in someone, she can be protective over them, going to any lengths to protect them where she can or get vengeance when she can’t. any friends she had growing up knew that people couldn’t mess with them if she was around – talk out of line or attack the people she cares about and her wrath knows no measure.

    in the trial: when it comes to the obsession, she is very protective of them. she won’t let anyone else hurt them or get in her way, even if her plan in the end is to mori them. outside of the trial, if she befriends other killers, she intends to keep them safe and not allow the survivors or other killers to insult or endanger them.











    abc's


    POWER.
    spice it up
    simone has a spice shaker that she fills at the beginning of the trial for one use and can refill throughout. Three bulk spices are randomly located in the pantry that she must find to refill the shaker before the survivors cut her off.

    Pepper: The survivor will be affected by breathing in the pepper, causing them to cough loudly and makes them easier to find.

    Saffron: The survivor will be charmed, making them more susceptible to suggestion by Simone and easier to sway to her side.

    Cayenne: The survivor will take a small amount of damage and be slowed.

    She sprinkles the specific spice on the ground, over or at a survivor for these effects to take place.

    survivor’s side task:
    In the pantry room (in her realm) or around the map (in other realms) lie three different bottles that contain the spices that Simone uses in her shaker. The survivors must find each one and destroy it by taking it into the kitchen on the floor above and throw it into the oven (in her realm) or a source of fire (in another realm) to destroy it. the destroyed spice bottles respawn after a minute.

    THE MORI.

    the final course: the only way simone can feast is if she can mori, grabbing the survivor by the shoulders and using her sharp teeth to rip flesh from bone, frenzy feeding on the survivor's body while they are alive, feeling every bite.


    BELONGINGS.
    ★ a small notebook. a spiral bound black flip notebook that simone used to write new recipe ideas and notes
    ★ a bracelet. a homemade bead bracelet with alternating black and red heart beads, with an “s” letter bead in the center, given to her by astrid
    ★ a photograph of simone and her six siblings. three brothers and four sisters, simone, sixteen, is standing behind two of her younger siblings with a hand on the shoulder of each. despite being the oldest and tallest, simone looks like she’s trying to hide
    ★ a degree. a framed degree from le cordon bleu with simone’s name on it for the culinary sciences, dated 1980
    ★ chef’s kit. her professional chef’s kit containing everything (various knives, a potato peeler and a grater) but the chef’s knife.









    HISTORY


    TW: murder, blood, homophobia, description of cannibalism

    BEFORE.
    simone leroux was born into a strict military family, with her father serving as a general in the french navy and her mother, a strict homemaker who placed strong expectations on all of her children – especially simone, the eldest. simone had always felt something was missing in her life, an emptiness in the pit of her stomach. she was born striving for more, filling the emptiness with being the best. she was always the best in her class, the strongest competitor and the most precise with any project. she would always hold her peers to her high standards. as the eldest, her siblings had to be just-so, a curse placed upon her both by herself and her mother. if one hair strayed or one article of clothing wrinkled, it would be the end of the world. simone would have a meltdown brought on by her mother’s chiding. her siblings would always take the brunt of the anger of both mother and daughter.

    as she got older, simone learned to turn her perfectionism inwards, wanting to work on her own in school and never connecting with her classmates. she became the valedictorian, much to nobody’s surprise and everyone’s chagrin. she may have been known at school, but nobody liked her. her hard ass personality didn’t make it easy for her to play nice, and she didn’t care to change, not needing the approval of others, just herself (or so she was convinced).

    the only time she ever felt passionate about something was in the kitchen, cooking. she learned this soon after graduation, when her parents said they would not be supporting her in college because their funds had to go to her many siblings (an infuriating statement considering all she’d given to please them). so, she went to work at a local kitchen to fund her way through her mathematics degree, only to find out that she loved it there. the expectations in a kitchen aligned with hers – nothing less than perfection was accepted. the orchestrated chaos, it was all perfect. she worked at her first kitchen job for several years, working her way up from a dishwasher to actually learning the basics of the art of cooking. she changed her focus in life to this, deciding to go to a culinary school and get her degree so she could work at a star kitchen in paris.

    of course, she succeeded, as simone did with anything she set her mind to, and as she found herself at the top, she couldn’t help but still feel that numbing emptiness inside. at thirty-two, she was where she’d always wanted to be, so why did she feel so empty? the answer, she thought, would come when another woman came to work in the kitchen. astrid fournier. a beautiful blonde woman who drew simone in immediately. astrid was gentler than she, and she softened simone in a way she’d never experienced before. they became quick friends, always on the border of friendly and flirtatious, and that’s where they sat for a long time. being the only women in the kitchen, they’d developed a camaraderie only they could understand, and they protected each other fiercely. it took them a year to understand that, perhaps, they were more than friends after all.

    astrid worked as a dishwasher and busser in the kitchen, and simone would often be tasked with doing prep work for the following day, left by the men of the kitchen to do tasks on their own – tasks that, while separate, they would often help each other with. astrid would peel potatoes and simone would help to clean the kitchen. they resented the tasks, but not the stolen moments they got to spend together alone. often, simone would spend this time bemoaning her station, always striving to be promoted, wanting to be even considered for sous chef but always being looked over despite sacrificing three years and most of her time to the restaurant. always, some new bumbling man would be brought in to take the role and she would anguish about it. astrid would always listen, trying to soften the blow.

    “oh, mon chou, the world just isn’t ready for you yet,” she would say and simone would argue with her but she knew that no kitchen run by a man would let her have this.

    they would realize that they loved each other when they accidentally shared a kiss. it was short, a peck in the kitchen that simone would uncharacteristically brave – and to her shock, astrid would return it. they’d spend their lives in these fleeting moments on evenings of cleaning and a couple of stolen nights at simone’s apartment.

    THE SHIFT.
    before they could be anything more, tragedy struck, as it was always bound to. they shared a kiss after leaving the kitchen one day, on the sidewalk before parting ways to their respective apartments. it was no different than any other night, until simone returned to work the next day and astrid was nowhere to be seen. simone questioned everyone and nobody knew where she was, so she began to search hospitals and call the police until she found her. in the hospital, brutally beaten and unresponsive. this lit a rage in simone she’d never felt before, and she went to work the next day with a fire in her eyes.

    as fate would have it, she overheard the latest sous chef gossiping with another chef, bragging about a violence he committed, peppered with homophobic slurs, and she suddenly remembered all the sideways looks he’d given the women, and how he seemed to linger occasionally at night. it was almost like he’d been trying to catch them, trying to find a reason to brutalize one of them.

    simone made a meticulous plan for revenge, grabbing her chef’s kit and stopping him as he left the next day, making herself look small and afraid. “do you think you could walk me home? i don’t feel safe after what happened to astrid.”

    he bought her small and meek act and agreed to walk her home, their apartments in the same complex. as she suspected he might, the dumb brute, he invited her in for a drink before they parted ways, and she accepted. she stood in his kitchen as he poured her a drink, calculating her plan to scare him, to make him leave the kitchen, leave her and astrid alone. with his back turned, she pulled the knife out of her kitchen set and lunged towards him, knocking the glass to the ground and putting the knife to his neck as he hit the wall.

    the man jerked, fighting her off, and in the tussle, threw simone to the ground where she hit her head with a crack. the rage in simone swelled greater than it ever had before and she shot up at him, pushing him to the floor and found herself stabbing him over and over until he stopped moving. as she looked down at his lifeless body in shock, she dropped her knife next to him and beside him, her hands bloody and shaking. she’d really just meant to threaten him, to scare him off… she hadn’t meant to effectively end everything that she’d worked for by stabbing him. but as the blood dripped from her hands and she faced her bleak future, she heard a voice in the back of her head.

    ”taste it.”

    the red blood glistened on her hands and she slowly, hesitantly, lifted a finger to her mouth. it was a taste so exquisite that matched nothing she’d ever tried before, satiating a thirst she didn’t know she had. she felt an empty hunger in her stomach as she looked over at the man’s body, inviting her to partake in a taste of a delicacy that had never occurred to her before. simone was in a daze as she busied herself, washing her hands and turning on the stove, carefully selecting her cut of meat, her seasonings. as she sat down, the fork hadn’t even touched her mouth before she felt the entity’s tendrils wrap around her, pulling her away from anything left of her sanity.

    NOW.
    angry, starving and volatile, simone plays with her food as much as the entity is playing with her. she relishes in the pain, the screams, because it externally mirrors her own. driven mad by her hunger, the entity strings her along with promises of unyielding food, flesh that is tender and sweet and abundant. only if simone participates in the trials. and only if she can accomplish all her tasks like a good little pet.


    [/div]
 
Last edited:




/* --- base code --- */











© akeno.




















2002












FULL NAME. emerson "emmy" turner
D.O.B. october 29, 1980
P.O.B. belmont, california
GENDER. female, she/her
SEXUALITY. bisexual, female lean
ALIAS. barbie
ROLE. plaything
SPECIES. human


visage.


















DESCRIPTION. emmy has long blonde hair, mostly straight but having a slight wave. she has fair skin with what her mother calls a "peaches and cream" complexion, giving her cheeks a pretty, natural rosy glow. she has blue eyes that she loves putting a nice coat of black "cat eye" liner on and a button nose with a sprinkling of freckles. she's a bit over average height at 5' 6" with a slim, graceful build.

ATTIRE. the outfits she normally wears look like something out of mean girls (the og, not the new one). she is dressed very stylishly for the time (and technically also for 2024 now that 2000s style is coming back). she wears a lot of pink, but will also wear neutrals and some other light colors. some of her style icons/inspo are elle woods (legally blonde), bianca stratford (10 things i hate about you), and cher horowitz (clueless). the outfit she wore when she was taken was a pink halter top with a denim miniskirt and ballet flats.

WEAPON. cutesy pink knife; she loves fighting in close quarters, treating it almost like a dance or a game.

FACE CLAIM. renee rapp

fill out the realm form on discord.








LIKES.
─ dancing, acting, singing, movies, bedazzling everything she owns.


DISLIKES.

─ being single, missing out on drama, the rain, loud noises, men.


HOBBIES.

─ acting, fashion, being hot



STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.


(+) clever (though she may not seem it, emmy is incredibly quick-witted and intelligent, liking to play with her prey before killing them)
(+) charismatic (despite her very obviously being a killer, she’s very hot and flirty and does it in a jennifer’s body sort of way, trying to convince her prey she’s just doomed to the narrative instead of an active participant)
(+) graceful (she is quite agile and graceful, especially in close quarters)

(-) vain (to the surprise of no one, emmy is incredibly vain and will freak out if she thinks she looks ugly)
(-) egotistic (due to her beauty and brains, she has a bit of an ego, and will avenge herself for any perceived slight–she can also be distracted by playing to her ego quite easily)
(-) crushes easily (this might not necessarily seem like a weakness, but she fancies that she is in love with some of her victims and will actually listen to them, more or less)

FEAR.


─ being unlovable, worthless, or ugly. she is terrified that no one loves her or cares for her, taking it by smothering those she “loves.” her ego and vanity also makes her terrified of being ugly or aging (honestly she’s glad she hasn’t aged in this world so she can be 22 forever.)



PSY.




— (+) charismatic – part of the reason that emmy garnered so much attention when she was younger was her charm; a combination of that with her wealth and beauty was near unstoppable in her personal relationships and led to her always getting her way.

trials – emmy tries to use her charisma and confidence to her advantage, trying to lure her opponents in by promising them their freedom if they rat on the others, or by flirting with them and trying to get them to see as an object of romantic affection. she is good at reading people and using that to her advantage.

— (+) confident – no matter what happens, it takes a lot to really give emmy pause. she's confident and knows that she can handle a lot, giving her surprisingly good composure unless one knows where to strike. she's gotten a lot of things she wanted just with her sheer belief she deserved them.

trials – emmy is hard to shake unless one strikes her weak spots (physically or by playing to her ego or vanity). she knows what she wants and goes for it without hesitation, so being too nervous or slow to act could end badly for any survivors near her.

— (+) fast learner – she was able to copy others who she admired, quickly learning from her actions in a given setting what would get her the attention or adoration she desired. she was clever, using people’s bad judgment against them should she catch them lacking more than once.

trials – though emmy has a few noticeable weak points and is clearly enamored with some of her victims, wanting them to love her the way she “loves” them, she learns fast. if you fool her or manage to blindside her once, good luck doing so again, because she’ll be waiting for it.

— (-) fake – emmy was so terrified to open up and be vulnerable that she never did in life, instead putting on a show to give people what they wanted (though in the end it seemed like it did not work). she is not as good of an actor as she thinks she is, because people can often sense when she’s putting on an act.

trials – though she is charismatic and charming, if one is good at reading people or observant, it’s entirely possible to see through her little act quite easily. she can get predictable in this state, playing into what she thinks the survivors want to hear, though her acts of “love” differ from this in that they’re the only authentic emotion she shows.

— (-) prideful/vain – emmy was prideful as a peacock, strutting around as if she owned the world. she did not listen to others and ignored all advice. she always thought she knew better than others. she put so much stock in her appearance and knew she was beautiful, but would rely too much on that and not enough on anything else.

trials – sometimes emmy will overestimate her own smarts, giving the survivors a chance to blindside her. she assumes she did such a good job that the survivors cannot hope to make it out and prematurely celebrates, making her not quite as observant as she would need to be to win.

— (-) impatient – emmy was never a patient person. she hated waiting, preferring to do things the easy way because it was quick. she would let opportunities go because she could not be bothered to put the time and effort into them, getting annoyed when nothing came of a half-hearted attempt.

trials – if one wants to beat emmy and has exhausted the option of using her vanity or pride against her, the best way to win is to wait her out. emmy despises waiting and will go looking for survivors and get frustrated if she has to sit for too long, giving the survivors ample opportunity to escape. her waning sanity doesn’t hurt either in this regard, causing her to throw a fit when she doesn’t get her way.











abc's


POWER.
“lights, camera, action!”
at any point, emmy can trigger a spotlight by clapping, causing the survivors' position to be spotlighted on the map. when she does this, she grants herself one of two boons: "celebrity aura" or "puppy love." when she chooses "celebrity aura," it causes any survivors in her vicinity to slow their repairs, making any progress take longer to achieve. when she chooses "puppy love," she charms one survivor in her immediate line of sight, causing them to hang onto her every word. these boons can both be stopped by completing the side objective, which entails locating and destroying the multiple film cameras throughout the realm (which is set up like a film studio.)



THE MORI.
emmy would like to dance with her prey, leading them in graceful duet, before leaning in almost close enough to kiss and then stabbing them directly into their heart multiple times until they’re fully dead. she would want it to happen fairly slowly at first, give it time for romance of it to fully bloom before she ended their life.



BELONGINGS.
— a diary
(filled with rantings about her latest love interest or obsession, she wrote in it nearly every day in her life.)
— a golden locket with no pictures inside (she got it as a gift from her first romantic partner, tearing out the pictures once they had broken up in a fit of rage.)
— a video camera with most of the film used up (she would practice self-taping auditions and scenes that she or a more creatively inclined friend wrote for hours.)
— worn dance shoes (worn from her many auditions for musicals, which she liked but didn’t love as much as film. didn’t stop her from trying though, since she wanted to be an actress with all her heart.)
— a compact mirror (she used to bring it with her everywhere inside of her purse to fix her makeup. she places most of her worth in her appearance.)







HISTORY


BEFORE. emmy was always a bright girl, learning quickly and able to replicate what she learned even faster. however, she was easily bored and lost interest in things that didn’t serve her. she was a bit of a mean girl in school, not looking beyond her own experience and reveling in her parents’ wealth and her beauty. however, as she got older, she got more and more anxious about her own fate. she moved to LA just after high school, barely sticking around long enough to get her diploma before she headed out, certain she was meant for stardom. but after many failed attempts at leading roles (or even supporting ones), she grew vengeful and angry. emmy had hardly ever been denied what she’d wanted before, and those close to her didn’t care enough to truly give her helpful advice or the truth. the only thing she had never been able to get by force was love, something that she had been obsessed with since she was a child as well. her parents were distant, clearly not wanting a child but forced to raise one anyway. her friends were surface level, only valuing her for what she could get them (trips to the beach, rides in her fancy car, etc). previous boyfriends were either close to her for the money or emmy ended up being bored with them too quickly.

she experimented with girls in LA, but knew that she could never bring one home to her parents, going through many abusive relationships with women (and a few with men), before starting to despair in that category too. she wanted love so badly, she would do anything for it. even kill. she could already see her dream job going down the toilet, and her parents cut her off once they realized she wasn’t going to “do anything with her life” in a half-hearted attempt to teach emmy a lesson, adopting a new baby and actually seeming to take the time and care required to raise her. emmy was just a practice for the real thing, she realized. none of her relationships or experiences mattered. no one cared who she was or what she did. so that was when she hit a new low. she applied for minimum wage jobs only to be denied from those, something that she had previously looked down on. all of these things threw her into a rage, knowing that once her golden years of youth and beauty were gone, she would have nothing. and it wasn’t as if she could afford her nice apartment anymore, so she had to find money somehow or she would be living on the streets. the experience broke her, leaving her ripe for the entity’s plucking.

THE SHIFT. after she had lost in every avenue of her life, being desperate enough to call her friends and beg for money, with them laughing in her face, she realized that no one truly cared about her. she was all alone. so she would kill those who didn’t love her, driving her a bit insane. her first kill was a girl who had she dated and who had abused her, leading her on and making her feel worthless. despite her knowing better somewhere in the back of her mind, emmy was still in love with her. and if she couldn’t have that girl, no one could. because emmy always got what she wanted. it was then that the entity knew it had her. that crime was a crime of passion, no thought or premeditated intent. but as emmy is stuck in her realm, she relives that moment in her mind, playing over and over like the horror movies she loved in life.

NOW. the entity has emmy in its grip, the last vestiges of her remaining sanity slowly ebbing away. every once in a while, she’ll realize exactly how horrible her situation is (and especially that of the victims, occasionally genuinely feeling remorse for them), but part of her is relieved that she can finally express how thin the line between love and violence has been worn in her brain. now everyone else has to bow to her whims, and she can kill the prettiest ones for all that she believes she was wronged in life.

 
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© akeno.




















1886












FULL NAME. Ambrose Moore
D.O.B. August 5, 1865
P.O.B. Tombstone, Arizona
GENDER. Male, he/him
SEXUALITY. Gay gay homosexual gay


OCCUPATION. Former cowboy/animal herder, current outlaw
SKILLS. Intelligent, slippery, fast, good with a gun, nimble, sly.
ROLE. dance with me


visage.


















DESCRIPTION. Ambrose is average height for a guy during his time period, making him slightly shorter than the average man (which he will take offense to if pointed out—he's 5’8”). He has messy brown hair that he often wears a cowboy hat over, covering it up since he’s far too lazy to style it. He has fair skin, which was more tanned when he was a cowboy, but his outlaw days have led to him covering up a lot of skin so he’s less easily identifiable. He’s got mischievous brown eyes and an easy smile, with a few freckles smattered across his nose and cheeks.

ATTIRE. He’s wearing pretty typical cowboy attire, with a loose cotton button-up shirt, khaki-colored trousers with a brown belt, and brown cowboy boots. Of course, he’s also got a brown cowboy hat and a bandana around his neck.

FACE CLAIM. Jack Wolfe








LIKES.
─ Card and dice games, animals, reading, dancing.


DISLIKES.


─ Rich people (eat the rich!), the heat, being kept in one place for long periods of time (lol), losing (sore loser).


HOBBIES.


─ Card and dice games (read: gambling), reading, horse racing, square dancing (badly), gardening.


STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.


(+) Luck (he’s got incredibly good luck for some reason, Ambrose isn’t sure if it’s some sort of cosmic force working in his favor or mere coincidence but he’s thankful for it nonetheless).
(+) Wits (he’s very good with strategy and coming up with plans to escape alive, as well as collaborating with his partners/teammates).
(+) Attention-grabbing (he was often used as the diversion in his little band of outlaws, so he knows how to put on a little show; he loves an explosion).

(-) Addict (he’s addicted to gambling, and as such, if he sees the chance to take a lucky gamble and get away with more, he’ll take it, even if the odds aren’t great).
(-) Stubborn (while this can sometimes be helpful on occasion, his stubborn side has hindered him more than once as he’s stuck to his guns instead of just letting the other person be right).
(-) Reckless (especially once he finds out that he can’t die in this realm, he takes greater and greater risks, caring more about the win than his own hide sometimes).

FEAR.


─ Ambrose isn’t afraid of much, but he is terrified of being in enclosed spaces and letting people down.



PSY.




— (+) Fast. Ambrose is a fast runner, a good horseman, and quick-witted, being fast in every sense of the word. He was always slippery as an eel when people like police or other outlaws were trying to catch him, slipping through their fingers in the nick of time.

Trials - His evasiveness really helps when it comes to surviving the killers, as he's fast and agile, able to keep the killer's attention and then run for the hills, hoping that his companions can escape in the confusion.

— (+) Lucky. Ambrose has always had a lucky streak; perhaps it's what got him started in gambling. He's uncannily lucky at times, escaping with little time to spare or pulling off a heist with the perfect conditions.

Trials - This luck aids him in his attempts at escape from the killers. But is it truly luck, or is the Entity toying with him? Or perhaps it's something more akin to fate? No one knows.

— (+) Cunning. Ambrose has a sharp wit and a head for strategy. A good part of the reason that he managed as long as he did as an outlaw is attributed to his knack for plans, especially when things initially go wrong. His time to shine is when things are truly crazy, letting him unleash his equally crazy ideas.

Trials - Ambrose can use his cunning and wits to evade enemies, figuring out plans and diversions. He'll use everything at his disposal to survive.

— (-) Loyal. You might be thinking, why would Mac put this as a weakness? Simple. Ambrose values the lives of the other survivors a lot, sometimes too much, and he might go back for them, especially if he's formed a connection. This is especially true if he cares about someone. He wants the others to survive as much as himself. He wants to help them for the crew he couldn't stop from being arrested.

Trials - Ambrose might waste opportunities to escape if it means leaving someone behind, or do stupid things like make himself the center of attention to stop the killer from murdering someone else.

— (-) Trusting. If you tell him something, he will most certainly believe it. He isn't really skeptic, and a big part of the reason he wasn't caught sooner was because his former crew were largely trustworthy people (and his best friend was more of the skeptical type to Ambrose's gullibility).

Trials - If another survivor says they will help him, he'll believe it. He might even stop to listen to a killer's story if they seem human enough, being both gullible and highly empathetic.

— (-) Dense. Though he loves people and making new friends, Ambrose is bad at reading people. He's gullible, falling for lies somewhat easily, and dense, not knowing what people want from him.

Trials - Ambrose might misunderstand his allies, leading to some big errors on his part. He might also try to have a conversation with the killer, if they are humanoid enough to seem human. He really wants to believe in people, not always seeing the obvious.











abc's


BELONGINGS.

— Pack of playing cards
– Ambrose got them as a kid; they were the first pack he ever used and his gateway to befriending some of his closest friends.
— Old-fashioned gun – his weapon that he always had on him; he’s never used it except for practice.
— Battered copy of The Legend of Sleepy Hollow – Ambrose's favorite book, which he carried with him on the trail as a cowboy and kept at his home base as an outlaw.
— Worn photograph – Ambrose's only photo of his parents after they died when he was sixteen.
— Small rock shaped like a heart–kept as a good luck charm – Ambrose brought it with him everywhere. It was given to him by his best friend when he was seventeen.







HISTORY


(tw. murder)
BEFORE. Ambrose was born into a world of cowboys and outlaws in what is known today as the “Wild West,” with his parents being prospectors. The small town he lived in was mostly populated by prospectors, cowboys, and smugglers. However, the legendary tales of gunslingers and outlaws the populate the Wild West happened near him and in his town as he grew up, with Ambrose growing to admire those who had the guts to go against the law and win. His family was relatively poor, and he had always been envious of what he knew of the more comfortable wealthy people living in bigger cities, stepping on the backs of those unluckier than them to get what they wanted and caring little for others. He wanted to be a “good outlaw” (as he called it when he was a kid), stealing from the wealthy and giving to the poor, a sort of Robin Hood, if you will. He was fascinated with that story, and any sort of mystery or horror he could get his hands on. In fact, Ambrose was a voracious reader since he was young, his mind sharp despite his parents’ shabby attempt at homeschooling him. He truly loved his parents and they him, but he knew they would disapprove of his ambitions. When he was sixteen, he was laying asleep in his bed when his parents were shot and killed by an infamous serial killer.

Luckily, he woke up to the sound of gunshots and was able to escape, but his life was forever changed. At first, he swore to have an honest life, going on to be a cowboy and meeting some of his closest friends through that lifestyle. However, he still had the thought that he could make a difference, that he could stop people like the killer who’d murdered his parents, though he would never dream of working as a police officer. His head was full of vigilante ideas, and he kept making plans of how he would accomplish what he so desperately wanted. He would fix the system his way, and whether that aligned with the law at times and went directly against it at others, he didn’t care. He loved the thrill of it. So, he eventually convinced a few of his cowboy friends to join him in his Robin Hood-esque vision, which they were able to carry out. They mostly stole from those with riches and power, though on occasion they did manage to catch and bring in those were hurting other people. Much of the money they stole was donated to those in need (which of course included Ambrose and his friends), and Ambrose used what money he kept for himself mostly in gambling, finding his keen mind and good luck won him quite a bit.

THE FOG. The last heist Ambrose had planned was destined to be in last, in one way or another. One of his friends had tired of the outlaw life, despising being on the run all time and blaming Ambrose for getting them into this when he had been perfectly content without this layer of stress. That friend had given the authorities the information about the heist, and despite Ambrose’s desperate gamble of a distraction to save his friends, no one escaped. Ambrose did not go down without a fight, though, and as he was attempting to make his last stand, he managed to escape into alleyway for a few moments to catch his breath. He closed his eyes for a moment, preparing himself, but when he opened them, he was somewhere completely different.

NOW. Ambrose wants to help the others in the way he couldn’t help his friends. He wants to escape. He wants to make the killers suffer for what they’ve done and what they’re doing to the other survivors. But most of all, he wants answers. What happened to him? Why is he here and what does the Entity want with him, with any of them? What is the Entity exactly? And how can he put things back the way they should be?

 
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    © akeno.




















    2015











    FULL NAME. Madison Anne Lambert

    D.O.B. August 9th, 1989

    P.O.B. Los Angeles, CA

    GENDER. She/Her

    SEXUALITY. Bisexual


    OCCUPATION. Student (Major Sports Medicine) | Part-time Retail Worker

    SKILLS. Quick thinking, adaptability, teamwork, communication, and CPR certified

    ROLE. Unbreakable



    visage.


















    DESCRIPTION. There is a captivating warmth from a woman who radiates the essence of a sun's gentle kiss. Her skin gives off a golden complexion paired with an amber hue, shimmering like the first light of dawn. There is a smoothness when you glide your hands against the baby hairs from years of care and shea butter. Eyes reflect pools of gold and bronze coins that glimmer and reflect with a soulful invitation. Her hair cascades in lustrous, dark brunette ringlets, bountiful and effortlessly framing her round face. A smile confident and full of laughter, she gives a blend of approachability and charm. Her body is well trained from years of track and field, and water polo from her adolescence.

    ATTIRE. Madison's typical fashion is all about comfort. Though anyone would ask her to get rid of her mountain of flannels and band tees that she has in her closet. Her default would be a band tee, dark flannel, skinny jeans, and combat boots let's not forget about the beanie, glasses (accessory), and obnoxious mustache necklace. She will be wearing this in a trial.


    FACE CLAIM. Brittany O'Grady






    LIKES.
    running. running that track was a way for her to clear her head. home wasn't a safe place to go to, so she ran until her legs felt like jelly and her heart begged for rest. It's also a way for her to get rid of the excess energy she has in her system.

    video games. playing games with her friends was always a fun pass time. While she may not be good at COD, she still enjoys games like Resident Evil, Until Dawn, Final Fantasy X, and Mortal Kombat. Horror games are her favorite.

    caffeine. Coffee, tea, energy drinks ─ while she understands they're not good for you they are guilty pleasures she can't get rid of.

    the beach. Living near the coast area has its perks. One of them being able to go to the beach. The waves crashing into you, the sun's rays ─ let's just not talk about the sand getting everywhere for weeks on end no matter how many times you cleaned your car/clothes HOW IS IT STILL EVERYWHERE!?

    traveling. Going to new places is a fresh breath of air from being in one place for too long. Home is home, but there's so much more and Madison enjoys going to new places.

    DISLIKES.


    white bread. Never liked it, never will. Don't ask.

    sand. Messy, gets everywhere -- what the hell man.

    messiness. Anything from her room to the kitchen to the damn door ─ just clean after yourself!!

    bullying. The kind where you're purposefully being mean to someone for no reason. It speaks insecure and no one likes ugly behavior. She doesn't mind if its between friends or family, because they're people you love.

    hospitals. She associates them with the death of her mother and tries to do her best to stay healthy to not relive the memories end up in one.


    HOBBIES.


    watching movies. Mainly animated or true crime. She's a huge fan of Ghibli movies and watches them to comfort her inner child. That and the Cinderella movie with Brandy and Whitney is the best thing ever (fight me on this, I dare you).

    exercising. From light to intense, she enjoys just working out and blowing off some kind of steam. Swimming and running are some of her favorite ways to work out her body and anger.

    singing. Karaoke nights with friends and family are always fun. She enjoys having them consistently and singing her heart out.

    STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.


    (+) ─ resilient. Madison has learned from a young age that the world doesn't stop while you're in pain, so why should you? She takes everything with a grain of salt and is unyielding to the obstacles thrown at her.
    ─ trial. The girl would continue to fight no matter how many times she's been hurt, injured, or caught. Her body may be taking the hits, but her relentless spirit is what makes her become a force to be reckon with.

    (+) ─ loyal. Loyalty is a privilege no one should take advantage of. People need people to stand up against greater threats.
    ─ trial. Her loyalty becomes a building block of support and dependability in the trial and shows her value of the kind of player she is.

    (+) ─ communicative. She'll say what's on her mind and be civil about it. Others may not agree, but she is willing to come to some middle line to work together with others.
    ─ trial. This becomes a huge factor in a game of survival. for Madison she needs to have communication with other people to make sure that plans are placed to ensure their survival at the highest rate.

    (+/-) ─ risk-taker. Madison knows when to take risks, but that doesn't always mean they'll always end up in someones favor. Whether it was a logical risk to take or a decision on the fly, doing something at that moment for her is better than not doing anything at all.
    ─ trial. even in the face of killers, risks need to be taken. Madison tends to play the hero in her rounds and would make decisions that could lead to your demise. a fighter blinded by the goal to survive is willing to tolerate the uncertainty of the unknown.

    (-) ─ gullible. To be human is both a beautiful and miserable thing. Giving someone the benefit of the doubt is something she carries to heart. People deserve second chances, and that ideal has led others take advantage of it.
    ─ trial. Killers who are observant of their prey will find Madison to be a caring woman. With a heart of a lion, she may be easily tricked to help someone and fall into the killers trap. Their whispers burden her with the possibility of whether or not it is a survivor that needs help.

    (-) ─ impatient. Always on the go and never stopping, living in an environment that is fast paced has molded Madison into being restless and easily irritable. You must be quick and diligent in her presence, or you'll have to find a way to be accustomed to her vices.
    ─ trial. Sometimes the weight of being hunted can create a great amount of stress for someone, especially to a person who is both stubborn and restless with her ways. She sets unrealistic expectations on others and burdens them with this ideal in her rounds. Madison will become easily frustrated as time is moving faster in her head, rushing you in your tasks.

    (-) ─ micromanage. Those who feel they have no control will search with desperation for something to grasp and take the responsibility as their own.
    ─ trial. In the trials, Madison will automatically take the position of leadership. This lioness proves herself to be dependable and passionate, but she is unable to see the harm it causes in the other survivors. Her hubris blinds her undermining the other survivors and their own unique abilities.


    FEAR.


    monophobia. The fear of being alone.



    PSY.




    Virtues & Vices

    ─ virtue:
    dauntless. Madison has never backed down without a fight. Her courage is driven by an unshakeable pride and a deep-seated valor. She steps up to be the sword the other survivors need in the face of adversity.

    ─ virtue: receptive. Stubborn as she is, she is willing to hearing out the concerns and ideas of her fellow survivors, even if her own views are strong and established. This receptive nature allows her to build alliances and understand the needs of her group, hopefully as a way to allow others see the kind of leader who values input and collaboration.

    ─ virtue: innovative. There are times where you need to bend reality to your will and force it to work in your favor. Madison’s innovation is not just about making things work; it’s about transforming limitations into advantages.

    ─ vice: capricious. Survivors will soon learn that she is a walking double edged sword. Her actions and decisions can be erratic, and this could lead them to be unsure of her intentions and stability.

    ─ vice: stubborn. When her mind is set on a plan there is no changing it. The trials will test her stubborn nature but must be willing to tolerate an unyielding survivor ready for the fight. While her determination ensures that she will see things through to the end, it can also lead to inflexibility and resistance

    ─ vice: arrogance. Her pride in her abilities and her sense of self-worth often lead her to believe that she is indispensable to the survival of the group. This arrogance can manifest as a dismissive attitude and can lead to provoking resentment among the others.











    abc's


    BELONGINGS.

    ─ maroon jacket. It belonged to her mother before she died and keeps it in memory of her. It still carries her scent, even if it is the scent of decaying flesh.

    ─ father's military I.D. Her Father is Air Force. she would always see it in his wallet as a kid on the military base. he never leaves without it. why is it here?

    ─ hospital bracelet. Memories of that day haunt her from this bracelet. her mother's death was hard, but watching her father grieve was much harder growing up.

    ─ swimming goggles. These were days she wished to go back to ─ when all that mattered were getting good grades and winning her water polo/track and field matches.

    ─ running shoes. Running was an escape that helped keep her grounded. These shoes in particular were a gift from her mother and father, and she kept them even if they were torn apart. Their value and memory are something she holds close to her.







    HISTORY


    BEFORE. Madison's childhood was marked by stress and loneliness. As a military brat, she moved frequently, never knowing what a true home felt like. This instability led her to adopt a minimalist lifestyle, striving not to be a burden to her parents, especially her mother, Laura. Madison watched as her once vibrant mother transformed into a frail shadow, reliant on monitors for survival. Despite reassurances of love and recovery, Madison understood the harsh truth: her mother wouldn’t get better. Her father often urged her to "soldier up," believing it would uplift her spirits, but this only drove Madison to suppress her own feelings of sadness.

    Years passed after her mother’s death, and Madison struggled to grieve in a safe environment. Unable to cope, she started getting into fights at school and faced an ultimatum: behave or face military school. Taking her father's words to heart, she chose to "act right." In a household filled with grief and expectations, Madison Anne Lambert felt she couldn't afford the luxury of being a normal kid. While her grades and social life improved, she merely buried her demons deeper.

    In her early 20’s, Madison delayed starting college, prioritizing her father’s health. With his illness worsening and insurance failing to cover necessary medication, she took on multiple jobs—first at a grocery store, then at an ice cream shop in the mall, and even babysitting neighbors' children some nights. She worked tirelessly, determined not to lose another parent.

    After years of hard work and saving for her father’s medications, Madison finally felt ready to pursue her education. Her father was improving slowly, and all the long hours were paying off. Working at the grocery store for so long had led to an unexpected promotion with excellent benefits—benefits that helped cover her father’s medication, making that difficult job one of the best decisions she had ever made.

    Why couldn’t the universe allow her some peace?
    Last summer, her father’s health took a serious turn for the worse, revealing that the nurse assigned to him had been neglectful. Frustrated by the mistreatment, rather than depending on another possible incident with another nurse, she decided to be his caregiver. They relocated to an older building to a room that had been closed to the public for years; it once belonged to a tenant's daughter, Catherine, who had mysteriously disappeared. Fortunately, the landlord was understanding and kept the rent low enough for them to manage on her income. However, this meant Madison had to return to working night shifts. The museum near the college was hiring for a gift shop worker, and Madison landed the job thanks to her experience.

    Soon, she began to notice strange occurrences between school and work. Items she had put away would inexplicably end up somewhere else. Her work locker would be found open during her graveyard shifts. Sometimes, she could even hear whispers and footsteps echoing when she used the restroom. It never crossed her mind that either place could be haunted, let alone that something might be following her home. It had to be in her head, right?

    Only after when she was leaving her shift one night did whatever was haunting her reveal itself. The lost daughter of the tenant, Catherine, stood before her. It was her chilling smile that sent shivers down Madison’s spine, prompting her to flee home in a panic.


    THE FOG.
    Madison was part of the closing shift that night. The day had dragged on, leaving her with aching feet and a mountain of homework. To top it off, she had to walk home alone. As she made her way through the dimly lit neighborhood, an unsettling feeling crept over her—someone, or something, was watching her. Panic surged through her, and she quickened her pace, heart racing. Suddenly, she found herself somewhere completely different. It was then that the haunting presence revealed itself: the lost daughter of the tenant, Catherine, stood before her. A chilling smile spread across her face, sending shivers down Madison’s spine and propelling her to flee home in terror. Running home Madison crashed into a thick, caliginous black mist that appeared out of nowhere and swallowed the scant light around her.


    NOW. She doesn't know how to properly feel. Agitated, scared, and the need to survive above all else are what she feels at the moment. Thoughts of her Father springs to her mind. His health, if the tenant was nice enough to check on them, something. She needs to find a way back. She needed to find a way back. Just, what the hell was going on?



 
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© akeno.




















2021












FULL NAME. Richard "Richie" Tarly
D.O.B. December 21, 1998
P.O.B. Vancouver, Canada
GENDER. Male, He/Him
SEXUALITY. Asexual


OCCUPATION. Online business / Content Creator
SKILLS. Observant, quick thinker, creative, iron will, high stamina and endurance.
ROLE. Diversion


visage.


















DESCRIPTION. Richie is a relatively tall man with a solid height of 5'11 and he prides himself in taking care of his appearance. After all, he has a persona to uphold for many of his viewers and you would never know when you might bump into a fan, right? As such, he can always be seen in a well-kempt appearance, or he would be fixing it as soon as he is able.

ATTIRE. It was a godsend that when he was taken by the fog, Richie had been wearing something other than his damn medical gown when he was taken through the fog. Instead, he had been wearing what appears to be surgical scrubs.

FACE CLAIM. Grant Gustin








LIKES.
Streaming: Unsurprisingly, Richie actually loves being under the limelight and, thus, loves the fact that he can share his experiences with his viewers. As vain as he might seem, he genuinely loves talking to viewers about literally anything and everything.

Exploring: He's a very active person so, ever since he and his friends began exploring the woods one day, they had begun making more and more trips to abandoned areas. He began to seek the thrill of it all, though still makes sure to not reveal the locations they've been in to preserve the area.

Video Games: Alongside streaming his urban exploring, Richie is also fond of streaming video games that pique his interest. His range goes across the board— sometimes playing multiplayer games with other streamers or something a lot calmer like simulation games.

Talking: And wow can this guy talk. He has an array of topics he would talk about and likes bouncing off others too. He's just naturally extroverted and likes filling the silence around him. Perhaps it's something that he developed as an instinct due to being used to streaming or perhaps...

Heights: He likes the weird thrill that goes into him whenever he's at the edge of a large height. He understands why it is a fear for many people but he always feels at peace than when he's at the top.


DISLIKES.


Stalkers: Richie has had his fair share of run-ins with insane people who tried to reveal his location and all of his information public. He tries to foster a positive environment and this has soured it considerably.

Boredom: He has never once been comfortable about not doing anything. He's always been an active person and he would rather be off doing something than being at home and doing absolutely nothing. He has to keep himself busy which is why he has so many hobbies.

Being alone: Richie thrives in a group of people. Remove that from him and he is out of his element. He is a performer! Give him someone to perform to!

Sickness: Been there, done that, Richie is not a big fan of it.

Snakes: He knows they're fine and some can even be used as pets but please keep them away from him or he will freak out.


HOBBIES.


─ Urban exploration, Spelunking, Gaming, Streaming,


STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.


(+) Observant: In any given situation, Richie is aware of the current lay of the land and of how other people are behaving. Chalk it up to a good bit of paranoia to make sure he always has an escape route planned out.
(+) Quick-thinker: While he seems to be a little bit of an airhead, Richie is as quick with his creative ideas as he is quick on his feet. He can arrive at decisions on what to do in a snap of a finger, even better if there are a lot of options that are available to him.
(+) Urban Explorer: Richie is used to navigating around abandoned man-made structures and the athleticism to prove it. This makes it easier for him to adapt to his environment.

(-) Unserious: Richie doesn't actually think much of their current predicament. He thinks of it all as a game: after all, he just keeps coming back, right? Why should he care about what happens to himself if he's fine at the end of the day?
(-) Show-off: Look, he's a fantastic distraction because he's so loud when he needs to be. Unfortunately, he is also loud when he doesn't need to be. He will do things with a little bit of a flare, taking precious moments to look or do something he deems as "cool" regardless of the situation he is in.
(-) Technical Skills: The trials' goals are to be able to escape by fixing one's getaway vehicle or using the gate. Unfortunately for Richie, this is something he is not particularly good at so he works a lot slower than the other survivors when it comes to fixing the needed items.

FEAR.


─ Losing everything he holds dear which currently are the survivors of the game, Snakes



PSY.




— (+) Compassionate. Richie uses a lot of his influence to give back to the community. He understands how difficult it is for people to find a safe place and he has always wanted to give that to people. He has always led a comfortable life and wants to share that with as many people as possible.

Trials - He is always willing to go above and beyond to help the other survivors regardless of personal cost. He would offer his aid to anyone who needs it if it would mean that his friends would have an easier time.

— (+) Optimistic. He has always had this uncanny ability to see the silver lining in everything. Some might take this as him being naive but he prefers to not dwell on the negatives of things. He believes that there will always be a way to make things right even if you'll have to be in it for the long run.

Trials - Regardless of how hopeless a situation may seem, Richie will somehow find a way to look at the bright side. This allows him to have the strength to power on despite being in an extremely disadvantageous state and he can extend this odd sense of optimism to his fellow survivors should the need arise.

— (+) Creative. He thinks outside the box more often than not. For streams, he has a reputation for coming up with out-of-this-world ideas to make it more interesting for the viewers. While it often doesn't manifest in most creative fields, he has a specific talent for directing films and videos while also taking care of the legalities surrounding them.

Trials - This can make him highly unpredictable and can pull out eureka ideas on the fly even during high-stress situations. Of course, it can be a double-edged sword as it may lead to more destructive and failed plans.

— (-) Self-sacrificial. Richie is too selfless. He's too afraid of being alone that he would rather have himself in harm's way than other people. There are times in his life when he had to choose between cutting someone off and going solo and he would stay with them until he was sure that he could find someone else to stick to.

Trials - He can be fooled into going along with something if it means that he wouldn't be forced to be alone. He wouldn't do well with inner conflicts within groups and would try to start peacekeeping despite knowing someone else was in the wrong.

— (-) Desperate. While it is not overtly obvious, Richie has gotten to his last legs when he was taken to the realm by The Entity. He wants to make the most out of this second chance that was given to him no matter how bad the current predicament is.

Trials - He would be making the most rash decisions to make it more fun for him. This often translates to him being more and more reckless as time goes by, especially now that he has realized that The Entity isn't going to let them die. This might be off-putting to other survivors and make him actually seem more untrustworthy than he really is.

— (-) Impatient. Richie is someone who is always on the go which means he doesn't do well with tests of patience. A lot of people have attributed this trait to him as being undiagnosed with ADHD but even he isn't sure if this would be a possible explanation. Many have grown frustrated about this particular trait of his.

Trials - This manifests terribly within the realm. Plans that involve him having to wait for a lured killer or something along those lines have a high possibility of falling through or he might simply just go rogue to do his own thing. He is apologetic about this but apologies can't turn back time nor the trust that is lost. As such, he pre-emptively tells people that he would be better off constantly on the move.











abc's


BELONGINGS.

— Smartphone – Someone of his generation cannot be found without a phone in their hand or their pocket. It has become such an important part of his life— practically a lifeline at this point. Interestingly, this item does not run out of battery but has a lot of its major functions locked.
— Head-mounted gopro – This item is something he uses to record his urban exploration videos to give him free use of both of his hands as well as giving the viewers a good sight of how he plans out his routes.
— Group photo – A photo of him and his YouTube group, the same ones he makes his videos with. It consists of five people— two men and three women. All five have different colored scarf bandanas worn at different parts of the body.
— Pulse oximeter – Something from his recent days when he was contracted with COVID.
— Red scarf bandana – An item that he matches with his friends. It is rolled up into a bandana that can be worn on the forehead.







HISTORY


BEFORE. Richard was born to wealth— with his father being a financial advisor and businessman and his mother being a successful doctor. Comfort and luxury were all he had ever known and the support of his parents was never far behind that. They encouraged him to be young and to enjoy his childhood as much as possible. One could say that he was part of the lucky people in life but his parents made sure to never spoil him and to instill a sense of responsibility. They reminded him time and time again to look to the future and build on the foundations of it as soon as he can. They put him through many lessons in hopes that one would stick but he grew out of most of the hobbies he went into. Sports was nice but he didn't want to do it all the time then he didn't have much talent in the ways of arts and music. Though his parents were frustrated that their son appeared to simply take his life one day at a time, they eventually relented to his apparent flighty nature.

At the very least, they thought, he had a group of friends. His best friend, Angela, had been with him ever since he was a kid. The two were each other's closest confidants and competition. Whatever one tried, the other was soon to follow. With a nearly inseparable bond, they lived their life together. In middle school, their friend group increased. Angela's boyfriend, Steven, was integrated and two other people, Chloe and Ingrid eventually joined after a school field trip brought them together as a group. It was Angela's boyfriend who first suggested urban exploring. He claimed that it wouldn't be all too challenging and that his older brothers were going to help them. Needless to say, the group got addicted to it. The thrill, the enjoyment, the potential. Chloe suggested they should take a video of their first solo exploration and they posted it without thinking much of it.

Then they gained traction. They were dubbed "The Explorangers" after a few videos of them went up. His parents had been supportive of his new hobby that he seemed to be very interested in. As long as they were safe, they didn't mind. Eventually, the group went into streaming to take advantage of their growing popularity. Richard's cheerful and boisterous personality certainly helped boost his reputation until he had a large following apart from the supporters of the Explorangers. Eventually, they all settled for making videos for the Explorangers of urban exploring and going to haunted spots to check them out. In between filming those videos and other skits, they streamed on their own.

When 2020 and the pandemic hit, their following had gained a massive boost due to the quarantine. They put a stop to the Explorangers until the quarantine was lifted, as was advised by his mother. It had driven him insane to only be stuck in his house and he had run into many problems regarding other streamers. As such, he had taken a break from streaming and settled for volunteering for aid shelters during the quarantine to work off his energy.

Unluckily, he contracted COVID a few months into his volunteering and ended up in the hospital where his own mother worked at. To add insult to injury, despite his healthy nature, the sickness progressed severely and much too quickly— so much so that his own mother was growing desperate to try to cure him. Due to his mother's actions, Richard was moved to another hospital to avoid the meddling of a family member with his hospitalization stay. All this time, Richard struggled heavily with the consequences of being bedridden and attached to a machine all day long with nothing to do but think. The fact that he couldn't even get visitors drove him almost insane in bed. Hearing their voices wasn't enough and Richard slipped into deep depression alongside the pain of living.

THE FOG. There was a time when he did get better. "Better" being a relative term. He could sit up instead of having to lie down, and he could understand certain things the doctors told him. But still, Richard wasn't satisfied. He had been confined for months with almost no contact with anything outside the white walls of the hospital room. He saw the season change outside his hospital and, with it, his will to continue on. Everything was painful and boring and... well, what was there to live for?

Angela happened.

Somehow, she had snuck into the hospital. If he was well enough to sit down, surely he was well enough to grab some air outside, right? It was stupid and rash but Richard did his best to be able to recover enough to do it. It was like a second wind. He wanted to go out and feel the wind against his face again. Another month passed before Angela returned and she put him in scrubs and wheeled him out with his respirator. She didn't explain to him how she got this approval but he didn't care. He didn't care until he was at a field behind the hospital. It felt good like he was revitalized. Angela left for only a minute. Only a minute and the fog rolled in to claim him.

"Would you like a second chance?"

NOW. Richie finds this as his second chance at life. In this realm, he has no COVID, he isn't bedridden and his physical health was at its peak. It was like it had never happened. It didn't matter where he was— he was going to be make the most out of this. Nothing could pull him out of the optimism of this second life, even if it meant he was going to die over and over again. As long as he was still alive, nothing mattered.

 




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1458












FULL NAME. Robert Harrington (though once he joined the Entity, he no longer uses this name)
D.O.B. March 28, 1420
P.O.B. London, England
GENDER. Male, he/him
SEXUALITY. Not sure, the language of the time didn't leave much room for non-cishet identities
ALIAS. Jester
ROLE. Hysteria
SPECIES. Not quite human, but it's not clear exactly what he is


visage.


















DESCRIPTION. Most of Jester's appearance is not specified, unable to be seen underneath his costume. All that one can make of his appearance is that he relatively tall and skinny, though his exact measurements would be difficult to say, as it almost seems like his appearance is not solid from moment to moment. What little skin you can see through the costume is bone white.

ATTIRE. He wears a jester suit, bled of all color that jingles softly as he walks. Despite this, he can blend into the shadows and be quiet surprisingly well when he wants to. He also wears what seems like a white joker mask, but it's impossible to tell whether it's a mask or his face, with each moment the perception changing slightly.

WEAPON. Scepter that is riddled with spikes at the top like a mace. The top of the scepter is a miniature, grinning human skull. On the whole it is a mockery of a king's staff.

FACE CLAIM. The Fool from the Tarot movie

fill out the realm form on discord.








LIKES.
Cracking jokes: It's unclear what the intended reaction is from the people he jokes to, though he clearly enjoys it when his prey screams. He has a grating, haunting laugh and a voice like serrated steel on gravel.
Damp, dark spaces: He tends to find the most disgusting places the best, though he can't quite place why.
Causing mischief: He enjoys playing "pranks" on survivors and killers alike, not caring one iota about anyone else so long as he gets his fun.


DISLIKES.

Unreactive people: When his jokes and pranks have no effect, it makes Jester quite testy. Not reacting is very boring for him.
Being bored: He is bored quite easily, and he does not enjoy it. If he can't find entertainment, he will make some.
Displays of affection or friendliness: He is miserable most of the time, and if he has to be miserable, so does everyone else.


HOBBIES.

Jester does not have any apparent hobbies besides pranks and jokes, and he cannot remember what he enjoyed in life.



STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.


(+) Unaffected -- Jester is not easily moved or affected by anything his victims or fellow killers do, making him hard to rattle. If anything, he will laugh madly at whatever happens instead of feeling afraid or confused.
(+) Stealthy -- Despite the bells on his costume, he is quite stealthy and can sneak up on survivors, loving to scream something such as "PEEK-A-BOO!" once he reveals himself, swinging at them with his scepter. He can melt into the shadows and travel quickly through the darkness.
(+) Perceptive -- Jester has a keen sense of hearing, sight, and smell, being able to detect nearby survivors relatively well. He pays attention to surroundings, making it difficult to get past him when he is the vicinity.

(-) Dramatic -- Despite his stealthiness, Jester loves to make an entrance. He is incredibly dramatic and will do some things just for the entertainment value and drama of it all, not caring as much as he should how it affects his hunt or his prey.
(-) Not the smartest -- Due to his lack of knowledge on anything that happened after 1458 (and much of what happened before, being uneducated), he gets confused easily. He is easily outfoxed if one is clever, and he cannot outthink many people if he is boxed into a bad situation.
(-) Short attention span -- The opposite of being stubborn, he will let one victim go in favor of the next one that he sees, forgetting quickly about his old toy. He sees the survivors as expendable little toys for his own vicious amusement, but like a child, will forget about one should they slip away while he's distracted.

FEAR.


─ On the surface level, his fear is boredom and stagnation. However, somewhere much deeper that he refuses to acknowledge, he is truly afraid of remembering his past.



PSY.




— (+) Sense of humor– In life, Robert could laugh easily at himself and at others, not taking things too seriously. He brought some levity to tough situations.

trials – Once he surrendered himself to the dark talons of the Entity, Jester's sense of humor has become warped and dark. He is not smart, not is he clever, but when it comes to entertaining himself, he can put his tiny brain to use. He will do anything not to be bored or stagnant, making his determination stronger when he thinks the survivors are doing too well.

— (+) Perceptive – In life, he used this ability to understand those around him, trying to know what they were trying to hide. He was a good liar since he knew what others were looking for in deception, but even better at parsing out others' lies from truths. He knew when his jokes were about to go too far, straying from that so he could keep his head.

trials – Now Jester's perception is used to stalk his prey, using his keen senses to determine where they are if nearby. Unless he's distracted with another survivor or a joke that he's making, not much will get past him.

— (+) Creative – Robert was a creative guy, coming up with new and interesting jokes to keep the king and his court entertained. He had a way of reinventing classic tropes to make them entirely new, making people laugh.

trials – Now, Jester uses that creativity in his killing methods. He can't just kill someone; he has to make it interesting. Though he lacks the wit to truly outthink people who have a modern education or are well-versed in this dance of predator and prey, his creativity can show up in the strangest of places.

— (-) Short temper – Robert has always had a short fuse, getting angry quite easily and keeping that anger locked up until it released in a whirlwind of pent-up rage.

trials – This translates to Jester being a very sore loser, getting mad if he has to wait too long to interact with survivors or if several manage to slip out of his clutches, leaving him alone. He will react erratically, striking harder but less focused. His senses dull in his determination to hurt something.

— (-) Inattentive – He would always flit from one thing to the next, letting last year's fashion or jokes go out the window as quickly as they came. It was the same with friends or lovers most of the time, since he cared little about anything but keeping himself entertained. He was always fashioning new jokes, not particularly listening to others in a conversation unless he got something out of it.

trials – He will go to the next shiny new thing once he gets bored of a survivor, or a new survivor interrupts whatever he was doing previously. He doesn't care which survivor he's chasing or torturing, only that he has one to mess with. This can leave him to be quite inattentive of whoever is in his clutches once a distraction occurs.

— (-) Cruel – He had few true friends in life, actively not caring about most people. While Robert wasn't outright cruel to most people, he was cold.

trials – Jester is cruel, going out of his way for the "joke," laughing as his victims scream. He wants to hear them scream, treating the sound like the laughter and applause he received in life.











abc's


POWER.
"Laugh it up, why don't you?"
Jester's favorite sound is the screams of a survivor. Proximity to him is enough to fill a survivor with fear, which intensifies the closer one gets. He has the rechargeable ability to cause a survivor to scream, paralyzing them with fear. To do this, he must either have that survivor in his direct line of sight or they have to be near something with a figure of a jester on it (like a playing card). This effect lasts while he maintains concentration, which he can do while moving, but he cannot do things such as hold a conversation or pursue another survivor while using this ability. He can only use this on one survivor at a time.



THE MORI.
He likes each kill to be different, distinct. But there is one thing Jester always does, and that is draw a hideous imitation of a smile on his victims once they're dead (or sometimes, while they're still breathing). Sometimes he draws it in their own blood, but his favorite is to carve it out of their face with the rusty spikes of his weapon, causing maximum suffering. At the end of this affair, he laughs maniacally, cackling as he tips his head back to the sky, somewhere between a scream and a laugh.



BELONGINGS.
— A quill and ink
-- simple writing implements from his time alive
— A beat-up Joker playing card -- used as a good luck charm in life, it looks like it has seen better days.
— Juggling balls -- the colors are faded and they are worn, but Robert would practice with him nearly every day.
— Letter from a nobleman -- while the Old English is near unintelligible to more modern speakers, it is clear the writer was close with Robert.
— Broken Lute -- an instrument that Robert had once loved to play, after it was broken it fell into disuse.







HISTORY


BEFORE. Jester doesn't remember much of his life before being taken by the Entity, but little he does remember is wracked with confusion and pain, tinted over in shades of gray. He was a royal jester, performing for the king and his court. He didn't hate his life in that position, since though he was frequently mocked and made the butt of the joke, he was also allowed to get away with things that no others could. He had once desired to be more of a bard, but that dream was crushed when his musical partner was forced to step up and become the man of his more noble house after his elder brother died. Robert himself was from a poorer background but was able to rise through the ranks as a jester until his promotion to the court. The rest of his life is remember in snippets--him arguing with said nobleman, a run-in with a cold knight, and his plans to run away. But the thing he remembers the clearest is the drop in his stomach as he was accused of witchcraft, the pain as he burned alive only to rise from the embers as something completely different.

THE SHIFT. Jester was not certain what he had become, since his body was stitched together in a way it hadn't been in life. It took some getting used to, and he could still feel the burning sensation whenever he prodded too deeply into his memories or annoyed the Entity. He was no longer human; he was a tool of the Entity.

NOW. Due to his lack of memories, Jester also has nothing to tie him to the things that make a person human--his emotions, his memories, his love. He only knows the cruel, dark embrace of boredom and melancholy, and the rush of adrenaline as he kills the survivors over and over again. It makes him feel almost alive as he gets a reaction of them, carving up their faces afterward in a mockery of a smile.

 
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1458












FULL NAME. Isabel "Bel" Banister / Ben Banister (fake name used for her knightly endeavors)
D.O.B. September 8, 1438
P.O.B. Loughborough, England
GENDER. Nonbinary (though there isn't really a term for that yet lol), she/he/they
SEXUALITY. Unsure


OCCUPATION. Knight
SKILLS. Horse riding, sword-fighting, investigation, deception, dexterity, physical strength.
ROLE. Adrenaline


visage.


















DESCRIPTION. Bel has dark brown hair, cut short to pass as a man so she can continue to be a knight, though that has continued to be harder as she gets older despite her lying about her age initially to cause less suspicion (she said she was two years younger than she truly is, so most people believe she is 18 instead of 20). She has brown eyes and fair skin, standing at 5' 7", which is around average height for a man at the time. She has a thin build with lean muscles, binding her chest under her shirt most of the time to avoid suspicion.

ATTIRE. They were wearing full plate armor when the Entity took them, causing quite a hassle when it comes to stealth or speed, but being great for enduring blows or strength. Underneath the armor, Bel has on a simple tunic and pants. They are wearing sturdy boots for footwear, helping in their escapes.

FACE CLAIM. Ruby Cruz








LIKES.

Horse-riding: It's something that he's been doing for a while, and it helps him clear his head to have the wind running through his hair while on horseback.
Stories: Though Bel, like many of their time, is illiterate, they love both listening to and telling stories passed down throughout the years. It inspires them to hear about people and events greater than themself.
Games: To Bel, games are a form of entertainment and a way to keep her mind sharp. She is fascinated by new games, but is happy to play games she already knows as well.


DISLIKES.

Pranks and practical jokes: Bel is a fairly serious person, being straight to the point and eager to get things done in the proper order. She doesn't enjoy practical jokes or pranks due to how little reward she sees from them, especially if they hurt someone's feelings or property.
First impressions: Though skilled at acting and pretending, Bel does not like meeting people for the first time. They have to make split second decisions about presentation and the words they say that could potentially be catastrophic for them, considering their position as a knight.
Disregarding formalities: Especially since he doesn't understand modern-era slang, disposing of formalities and immediately saying or doing gestures that were considered more intimate in the Middle Ages sets him on edge.


HOBBIES.


─ Horse-riding, sword-fighting, jousting, storytelling.


STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.


(+) Controlling their emotions - In order to pass as a knight and get anywhere in Medieval society, Bel had to master outwardly controlling their emotions and slightly changing how they present themself depending on who is present.
(+) Combat - Due to the nature of her knightly position and endeavors, Bel is familiar with different kinds of combat (mostly sword-fighting, jousting, and hand-to-hand). She is good at analyzing situations where combat could be used and deciding what to do in a given situation that might require this skill.
(+) Battle strategy - Despite not having any sort of schooling or formal education, Bel has been taught about battle, both practical and the type meant for entertainment. Though his knowledge does not extend past what Medieval battle theory was, rendering him useless if any sort of firearm or complex modern strategy is involved.

(-) Lack of education - Though Bel is no idiot, they also have had no formal schooling or education and therefore lack knowledge that many of the others would know. This puts them at a disadvantage towards anyone coming from a more modern era.
(-) Hesitant - Whether it's combat or social situations, Bel has a tendency to observe before getting involved. While this can be helpful in providing a more sensible approach, it also hinders the speed at which he gets things done.
(-) Judgmental - Coming from nothing, Bel worked hard to be where she is, risking her life and safety many times by pretending to be a man and becoming a knight at a young age. If she deems someone didn't do the work or doesn't uphold the strong moral standards she had to, she casts judgment upon them without hearing their side of the story.

FEAR.


─ Being helpless, at another's mercy and unable to do anything about it. Or watching someone they care about be helpless while they are unable to help.



PSY.




— (+) Brave Bel has never been afraid to put her life on the line for a cause or person she believes in (or at least, she's been able to overcome her fear).

Trials - This translates into her being able to make the moves needed, despite the risks or the terror. She knows what needs to be done and she is willing to do it.

— (+) Level-headed Years of controlling their emotions make Bel a tough person to break. They are able to analyze things with a clear head, taking their time instead of making reckless or thoughtless decisions. They are led by their head, not their heart, therefore deep emotions don't seem to affect them as they might affect others.

Trials - They are incredibly useful in high-stress situations or when the enemies are near, adrenaline and training taking over. They can make sound decisions most of the time, relying on both previous knowledge and instinct.

— (+) Patient Bel came from a time long before most modern comforts, not having a computer or even a book to turn to when he was bored. As a consequence of this, he can wait for long periods without growing bored or tired, mind either focused on strategy or finding ways to entertain himself.

Trials - If he comes up with a plan of attack, he will wait as long as needed to find the weak spot of the killer and pull it off. He doesn't not rush into things, instead taking his time and knowing how to outlast others.

— (-) Hesitant Due to his patience and strategic thinking, he is not the type to rush into things. However, this can be a hindrance when it comes to snap second decisions. Being rushed makes him irritable and uncooperative.

Trials - In the trials, this could manifest badly if the enemy is the sort to strike quickly from the shadows and disappear back into them just as hastily. Bel's insistence of getting an idea of what his opponent is trying to do or a lay of the land could mean taking too long to act.

— (-) Lack of empathy Though Bel can be empathetic and does have the capacity to be emotional, they rarely show it. This can come across as them being cold and unfeeling, or possibly unempathetic of others' struggles. They will always do what is best for the greater good, even if that means potentially hurting someone else.

Trials - This can come across negatively in the trials. While Bel's goal is for the most survivors to make it out as possible, if it is a case of sacrificing one person to save two others, Bel will do it. They are not selfish, prioritizing themself the same as any other survivor, but their judgement sometimes fails to take people's feelings or needs into account.

— (-) Arrogant Due to Bel becoming a knight younger than most, she feels a sense of pride that can turn into arrogance when left unchecked. She knows her abilities and strengths, sometimes leading her to build herself up too much.

Trials - This trait can impact her getting along with or listening to the other survivors. She might have a different idea than one of them during the trials, but not wanting to be wrong, she'll argue her position, assuming she is correct unless proven wrong. She might also be hesitant to follow the lead of someone she does not know as well or think is worthy of it.











abc's


BELONGINGS.

— Well-kept sword – A polished metal sword with a worn grip and scabbard. It isn't the highest quality but is clearly well-loved.
— Wood comb – A comb that has seen better days. Though has been carefully cared for, it is not in the best shape.
— Shield – A round wooden shield with a faded family crest. The crest contains a green dragon.
— Rusted brooch – A brooch that looks like it has not been used in some time. The design is practical.
— Sewing implements
Wooden sewing needles and some string, along with a pair of half-darned socks that rest in a simple wooden case.






HISTORY


BEFORE. In the feudalist world of the English Middle Ages, Bel was already off to a rough start. Born as an illegitimate child of a lesser noblewoman in a dalliance outside of her marriage, Bel was looked down upon since she was a child. As a female, she already was not able to inherit any of her family's wealth or land, except as part of a dowry. But Bel had always been too curious for her own good. Her mother refused to talk about her father, so she tried to investigate as a kid, but didn't get very far. Bel has always been somewhat stubborn, becoming fascinated with something and continuing that course of action as long as they could. Though that wasn't the only thing Bel was curious about--far from it, in fact. They had never wanted to marry and though their mother was relatively progressive for the time period, she didn't have a good way to save Bel from that fate. So one night when Bel was fifteen, he left home, only leaving behind a note for his mother to discover. He knew that the only way for him to learn more about the world and escape the small village he lived in was to become a knight. In this quest for the truth, Bel learned a lot and gained many skills, rising up the ranks surprisingly quick. As Bel's star power grew, they continued their investigation into the identity of their father, knowing only that he had ties to the capital and possibly the castle within. The more Bel trained and gained a comradery with her fellow knights, the more she adjusted to the lifestyle, feeling freer than she ever had in her double life as "Ben." But the older she got, the more scared she was that someone would figure out her deception and dishonorably strip her of her knighthood and potentially kill her.

THE FOG. In the days leading up to the fog, Bel was getting closer in his search for the truth about his father and his family in general, raised as sheltered as he was. He was missing his mother, debating taking a short leave to journey to see her. But as things began to slot into place, Bel realized that the machinations of the royal court went further than they had previously thought. But Bel felt something odd at play, something unnatural. The Middle Ages was a superstitious time, and Bel was particularly sensitive to parsing out what they deemed to be a closer to the other side and supernatural than most. But just as they were on the precipice of finding the truth that would change their life forever, Bel suddenly felt lost and swallowed up by an entity much more terrifying and larger than they could have guessed.

NOW. Bel doesn't know what to do, having nothing to compare the Entity to or logical explanation in her brain. She can only guess that some force didn't want her to know the truth, or someone had a specific vendetta against her, but she is determined to escape and figure out the truth back home. Bel has no time for bullshit. They will find a way out or they will die trying. At least, that's the plan.

 
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1978












FULL NAME. rosemarie hirtl.
D.O.B. early spring, 1901.
P.O.B. austria.
GENDER. cis female, she/her.
SEXUALITY. she has a chosen a path in life that forfeits the acknowledgement of sexual attraction.

ALIAS. the sister
ROLE. dark devotion
SPECIES. she was human, but has become a thing between human and demon


visage.


















DESCRIPTION.
before, rosemarie stood at about five feet and four inches. her hair was long, pin-straight, and light brown. her face had naturally soft features to go with the warmth of her brown eyes. she was slight in frame and appeared, to most people, to be quite small.

now, her once peachy skin is a pale purple-gray color that looks primed to fall off her bones. her eyes are a sickly amber that gives off a faint glow. when she parts the blue of her lips, she reveals blood-red gums sharp teeth that have yellowed like they've had years of age. the nails on her fingers come to a similar point. her habit seems to hang off of her, and a person who watched the way it moved for long enough might think her figure was skeletal beneath it.

ATTIRE. however corrupted, she retains her black habit. she has not worn other clothes since she was a young girl.

WEAPON. what is their weapon of choice? example: cleaver, war fan, katana. with a brief description of what it might look like (pictures are fine).

FACE CLAIM. taissa farmiga








LIKES.
[+] stained glass: as someone who grew up living a very plain lifestyle, there were many things she was astounded by the first time she began to visit actual cathedrals. the stained glass windows were a quick favorite of hers.
[+] gardening: tending to the garden had always been rosemarie's favorite activity in the convent. she liked working the earth beneath her hands and watching life spring forward from it.
[+] lavender: the smell and appearance of lavender has always been a favorite of hers. her mother grew it in small bunches behind their house, and she tended to the patches of it ion the convent while cloistered.

DISLIKES.

[-] meditation: this used to be an activity she enjoyed-- she liked to find her peace in silence, feel the presence of God around her. after her possession, however, meditation became a time where she sat in silence and felt nothing around her. it was an activity she grew to resent.
[-] hymns: singing was her least favorite part of worship even before her possession. now, the sound of a hymnal seems to grate on her ears.
[-] downtime: the sister hates a time during which she has nothing to do. the longer she goes without something to invest her energy in, the more antsy she becomes.



HOBBIES.

- rosemarie's daily activites have always centered around her religious status. her days were spent engaging in prayer, meditation, gardening, and reading. these are, to be frank, the only real hobbies she can remember partaking in.



STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.


[+] driven: the sister will be merciless in her pursuit of survivors. she has spent her whole life devoting everything within her to following the will of something. if that something greater is the entity, then so be it. she will listen.
[+] perceptive: she's always had a shrewd eye, and the entity has only made that stronger. she notices even the small things, like slight changes to the environment or ways to trap survivors. this is especially prominent when she's in a space she's familiar with.
[+] methodical: in addition to the above, rosemarie takes her time. she is meticulous in seeking out the survivors, and moves like a well-oiled machine as she attempts to track them down.

[-] slow: she isn't physically slow-- on the contrary, she can move quite fast when in pursuit of a survivor. however, her detail-oriented nature means that she often picks her way across the realm with care. if a survivor is good at hiding their tracks, they can move across the realm faster than she can.
[-] tunnel-vision: in her life, the sister has also been very resentful of various forces. this means that insult or snub from a survivor can throw her off her usual strengths and instead, turn her into a beast focused on one goal.
[-] sensitive: the above is compounded upon that rosemarie is sensitive. the slightest wrong move from others can be seen a slight that invokes her fury. while this is often bad news for then, this can be used as a distraction or a way to lead her into traps.



FEAR.


the sister fears, above all, a lack of purpose. she fears the empty feeling that comes with not knowing what drives you, not knowing what you stand or work for. this is the feeling that pushed her, despite the holy path she walked in her youth, to seek out the demonic of her own volation. she would do anything to have a puprose.



PSY.




In life, the sister was a quiet pillar of her convent. As someone who took her vows quite young, and lived a pious life even before then, much of who she was had been shaped by religion. She followed the values that she'd been taught-- offered kindness to others, lived modestly, and devoted her life to God.

As her opinion on her religion shifted after her experience with possession, so too did her personality. The sister she had been before disappeared into the after; she became withdrawn and resentful. Over time, she would become antisocial, secretive, and obsessive as she fell further and further from the values she'd grown into through the Church.

Now, this obsessive nature persists in the form of her connection with the entity. For the Sister, little exists outside of the world they live in now. After all, it has given the purest form of the only thing she understands how to want: purpose.










abc's


POWER.

the light of the window: there are stained glass windows dotted in many places across the sister's realm, even in places you would not expect to see them within a cathedral. the windows are gorgeous, but not all of the imagery seems to fit within what you'd expect of a typical religious space. every minute, three of these windows light up like the midday sun is shining behind it. any survivor in the light --whether they are under the window when it lights up, or the accidentally stumble into the light it casts-- finds themself frozen for three seconds, and slowed for a further six. in addition, when a survivor is seen by the window's light, a room-specific noise sounds throughout the cathedral, telling survivors and killers alike what room that survivor was caught in.

survivor's side objective: they're just windows; they can be smashed. however, the windows seem to have a sense for when someone is trying to smash it, and will likely be the next to light up if you aren't careful. smashing a window is best done by a survivor who is careful to time when the window lights change, or someone strong enough to throw something heavy outside the swath of light the window casts. every window smashed is another window that cannot be used as an alert. in addition, the sister is slowed for three seconds every time a window is smashed.



THE MORI.

the sister operates on drive, not sadism. her kills are clean, like a means to an end rather than something she takes joy in. this control seems to slip with her mori. a survivor who meets this fate is grabbed by the throat and thrown to the ground on their back. before they have the chance to stand, the sister descends on them, straddling their waists. despite her waifish appearance, the weight of her feels like tons, trapping them in place. she holds them down with her hands: the right under their collarbone, the left on their chest. as her eyes glow yellow, her hands crush into their body, until her clawed hand pierces through into their heart.



BELONGINGS.

- trowel: a small gardening tool. it is of simple design but decent quality. the trowel appears to be nondescript save for way the end of the handle appears as if it was smashed into something.
- knife: a butcher's knife. it's bloody. it seems... self-explanatory.
- rosary: a simple rosary. the beads are brown and the cross is carved with wood. the shape shows imperfection, and it seems likely that this is also hand carved. one side of the cross has a faint etching: r.h.
- worn blanket: a well-loved blanket that has clearly seen years of use. it's too small to be that of an adult, cobbled together with various patches of fabric that are held together by faded yellow thread.
- scorched bible: a traditional and plain bible. the front appears normal, but examination reveals that the back is completely scorched, and this travels up the sides of the bible, blackening the edges of the pages. flipping through the bible might reveal that all the Ls in Lord and Gs in God are lowercase.







HISTORY


BEFORE. rosemarie was raised... well, to be quite honest, in a convent. she had a life before that-- parents, three brothers, one sister, but most of that time is a distant memory. nothing of this time seems to hold weight in her head anymore, and all she has to speak of it is distant glimpses of a life before. tearing through fields of grass with her sister, bowing her head in prayer over dinner, brushing the hair back on her newborn baby brother's head. the echoes of a simple life.

the convent became the center of her life early, from the time she was... ten, maybe? in her family, time passed in seasons, and it was easy to lose track of how many had gone by. she was pretty young. younger, maybe, than the estimate. but her parents had run out of space and food for the mouths they had to feed, and she was the eldest of their daughters; we all know the shoulders of an eldest daughter are born to bear the weight of sacrifice.

the tone here might imply that these are the glory days of her life, and that everything went downhill after she joined the convent, but there is a lack of truth there. the convent had a warm bed for her every night that she never had to share, and the food was plain but frequent. the lifestyle of a convent may not be the most glamorous, but to a girl like rosemarie, it was heaven.

even better, maybe, was the work. back home, there had been so little to do once the chores ran dry. if she'd swept the floors and hung the laundry for her mama, what left was there to do? afternoons spent chasing after little siblings in the grass grew tiresome when the cycle repeated every day. but at the convent, there were always things for her to do. she nurtured plants in the garden and helped cook dinner in the evenings. there were prayers to learn and hymns to sing. the sisters even taught her to read, bowing their heads beside hers into a bible. the life of a nun far outshone the life of a poor man's oldest mouth to feed.

her family was quick to become thoughts she let simmer on her backburner. they came to visit every so often, maybe three times in the first several months after they'd sent her to live with the sisters. her mama came a few more times beyond that, but by the end of the first year of living in the convent, she hadn't seen another member of the hirtl family for four months. her younger sister had been slated to join the convent when she was of a reasonable age, being six seasons younger than rosemarie, but anna never appeared at the convent. rosemarie hardly noticed, and when she did... well, it was long after anna should have arrived.

(good for them all, then, that they could keep their other daughter. good for them that their circumstances could have changed so quickly. good for them that anna could stay home and have a full belly-- isn't that what they'd sent her away to accomplish in the first place?

it didn't matter. it didn't matter. this was where rosemarie was happy. this was where she had a place to belong.)

rosemarie continued to live in the convent until she was sixteen, when she was finally allowed to start her official journey into becoming a nun. whereas she had simply been a ward of the convent before, she was now allowed the chance to become a sister. the process was lengthy, but rosemarie relished in it. every step was another towards the life she knew she'd been meant to live; she was born to walk in the footsteps the Lord had laid out for her, following a path of life that honored him above all. it was the Lord who had created her, and it was the service of Him she would pledge her life to.

while she wasn't granted the privilege of being assigned to the convent she'd grown up in, she found that she enjoyed her lifestyle the same in the cloister she was sent to as much as the one she'd lived in before. in fact, the garden here was even bigger, bustling with lavender and other flowers to tend to. the simple come and go of her days here were peaceful.

she was only twenty-two when she'd been possessed. the memories of this time are warped; as she lost control of her body, control of her mind seemed to go with it. there are flashes from this time. the demon who took ownership of her attempted to fit into the daily life of the convent, waiting for... something. whatever held her was patient. it spent months in her body, laying low and following the routine of her day. at night, it did... something, something rosemarie has less memory of. she learned that blood was warm, and tasted metallic. she learned how smooth it is to cut through human fat if you don't hesitate. she wouldn't be able to remember how she learned that.

it wasn't subtle enough. the other sisters took notice-- rosemarie's smiles were forced, and her eyes lacked warmth. the plants she had tended to with such care now seemed to wilt under her hands. and perhaps the most telling, she began to sing the hymns with something almost like passsion; her fellow sisters knew this was her least favorite part of service. the demon in her body had not been able to play her well enough. or maybe its nighttime activities had been discovered. either way, rosemarie's body was hauled to the cathedral of their bishop, and under his watchful eye, the demon was exorcized. after over half a year of possession, rosemarie was alone in her body.

she wanted to be grateful. for a few days, she was. it was nice to have control of herself again, to sleep at night at work during the day. but some of her fellow sisters still eyed her, like they no longer trusted her, and everything in the convent felt... different. there was an empty feeling in her chest now. it took her a while to realize that the empty space was the parts of her that she had devoted to god. she'd spent over a decade walking in the path that honored him most, devoting even her formative years to prayer and worship. she very well could have been the most pious sister in the cloister. and his reward for her had been this? he couldn't even offer her protection from demonic possession. there were dozens of other nuns in the convent and she was the one the demon was able to possess? how was that fair?


THE SHIFT. rosemarie was left empty, in the wake of her possession. her trust in god had crumbled, and there was nothing guiding her anymore. her faith had been her guiding light, and now... it all seemed dark. what was left of rosemarie? what was she to do with herself if she didn't believe in her lord anymore?

what she needed was a purpose, and if she couldn't trust in god to provide that for her anymore, she would find it herself. after all, god was supposed to protect her, and he hadn't. now? now, she would choose a path where she would never need to rely on his grace again. she may have been a victim before, forced into possession by something she hadn't known to fight off, but this was her choice. she could choose where her feet would carry her now, and she would choose a path where nobody would ever be able to make her a victim again.

the once pious rosemarie, then, turned to the demonic by herself. she began to seek out dark entities such as the one that had controlled her. and when one whispered, she opened her arms. the demon brought rosemarie what she wanted, the one thing the convent had always offered her: a purpose. when it asked for devotion, she offered it. when it spoke to her of grander futures, she listened. and when it demanded blood, she lured people from the local villages and splatted the forests with their blood. with everything she gave it, their connection grew. her strength grew. her power grew.

when it told her it was time, she was ready. under its watchful eye, she slaughtered the rest of her small convent in entirety, painting the walls red with blood. when that work was done, her and her demon marched miles to the cathedral where she'd been exorcized before. the people there fell at her feet the same way that they had in the convent, and she tore through them all until it was only the bishop stood before her. his crosses and prayer were no match for her anymore. she killed him the same way he'd killed the demon; crushing him with her weight and pressing down into his chest. the only difference was that he'd had a bible.

rosemarie had claws.


NOW. the cathedral where rosemarie slaughtered the bishop is home to her now. whispers tell of the haunting here, that the ghost of a nun scorned who slaughtered her bishop floats among the halls. it stands tall her it was abandoned, and blood still stais the wall.

what the world doesn't know is that rosemarie is still here. she does not age. she does not perish. she subsists, still, on the demon's great revenge. and they both hunger for more.

 
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/* --- base code --- */











© akeno.




















2004












FULL NAME. ethan 'fick' ficus.
D.O.B. june 27th, 1981
P.O.B. manchester, new hampshire.
GENDER. not fussed about gender, uses he/him for convenience.
SEXUALITY. bisexual.

OCCUPATION. assistant manager at hannaford supermarket.
SKILLS. empathy & compassion, intelligence & the ability to think ahead, a head for logic & planning, the ability to stay calm under pressure.
ROLE. parental guidance.


visage.


















DESCRIPTION. fick is a bit of a short guy, standing at only 5'4". despite having earned the nickname 'fick the stick,' he grew into a bit of a bulky guy-- broad shouldered despite his height, and quite solid in terms of appearance. his hair is a dark ginger, and his eyes are green. he isn't the most muscular, but there's a definite build to his arms and legs.

ATTIRE. fick's wardrobe consitents largely of lowkey graphic tees, many sporting jokes or puns. this wide array is paired with cargo pants in all but the hottest of tempatures, which he largely escpaes due to living in new england. if the weather demands, he will add warmth to his outfit with a plain-colored button down as an overshirt. in colder tempatures, he wears his faux fur-lined dark denim jacket. for trials, you'll see him in his usual t-shirt and cargo pants-- no frills.

FACE CLAIM. seth green.








LIKES.
horror movies. fick loves a good horror movie. he's familiar with all the major franchises, b-movie deep cuts, cult classics, and anything in between. he loves both the watching of the movie, and the analyizing of it afterwards-- what makes the movie good? how was the movie constructed? what are the tropes?
snack cakes. fick is a little debbie fiend. he will eat any and everything that they're ever made.
concerts. he likes all music, but he's always been of the opinion that music is best listened to live. he was the kind of guy who would go with you to see just about any band, no matter what kind of music they played.
photography. fick's second favorite pastime before he had his normal life stolen away from him was taking photos. he's quite good, actually-- could have studied it in college if he thought he was worth the education.

DISLIKES.

soda. fick is the kind of guy who drinks three things: coffee, tea, and water. he cares about staying in... decent-ish shape, and why would he drink a soda when he could absolutely crush an oatmeal cream pie instead?
hot weather. he hates to have to wear shorts, but he hates overheating even more. he was lucky to be born in new england-- or does he feel this way because he's from new england? the world may never know.
flying. if humans were meant to go through the air, they would have been born with wings. fick is very content to stay on the ground, thank you very much.
the circus. clowns freak him the fuck out, thank you very much.

HOBBIES.

fick's had a lot less time for hobbies since his daughter was born, but he has always been very into horror movies. jacey went to bed? time to watch jeepers creepers. jacey went out for the day with grandma? let's pop in children of the corn.
he has also long-loved photography. he's quite good, if untrained. most of his camera roll these days consists of jacey, both by herself and with her mother.
fick also enjoys video games, although those are more of a social thing for him. he doesn't really play on his own, but he's more than happy to plug in a controller and play with a friend for a while.

STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.

(+) intelligent. fick is smart. he often thinks his actions through, and is planning his next move before he takes it. he will often avoid traps or see his way out of a problem if given a moment to think.
(+) calm. this is a man who can keep a cool head in the face of a fire. even when frightened, he can often keep a cool head and stay focused on what he's doing in the moment.
(+) a team player. if there's any lesson fick learned from being a parent, it's that working together and sharing the load makes almost anything more manageable. he will always do his best to work with those around him.

(-) unassertive. he is smart, but often will not stick up for himself or his ideas. he could have the best plan in the entire world, but if the people he's working with don't see his vision, he won't argue for it.
(-) unathletic. he may be a bit strong, but he is not the fastest or the most stealthy member of... well, almost any team, really. he's not horribly slow, but honestly? he's gonna do a lot better hiding than he is running.
(-) unimaginative. as smart as he is, fick has trouble thinking outside of the box. he might overlook possible avenues of success or escape because he simply doesn't register them as real or logical.

FEAR.

─ his greatest fear is losing his daughter, but being taken from her is a close second. he also fears heights to an extent.



PSY.




fick is, at his core, a laid-back guy. a little unambitious in his youth, to be honest, but someone who rocks a pretty chill vibe. he is often kind to others, and fairly easy to get along with. he often gives good advice, as he tends to think things through and tends to be good at understanding people and their motivations. while he might not come off as the most outgoing person, he is social, and cares deeply for the people around him-- something that got even more pronounced once he became a father.

he can, at times, be a bit aimless. talking to fick for a while might reveal that, outside of providing a good life for his daughter, he doesn't seem to have much ambition or vision for his life. this had been a core issue in the relationship he shared with his daughter's mother at times, as he doesn't seem to have many goals for himself in terms of personal achievement. if he had a daughter, he might be the kind of guy happy to spend his whole life bumming in a shitty apartment that he pays for with an even shittier job as long as he had good company.

despite that, he is genuinely good person. he wants the best for the world around him, and would go far to make others happy. he also cares about being a better person-- he takes criticism to heart and tries to be the best version of himself. fick wants to be a positive force in the lives of others. becoming a father really did kickstart his sense of drive, even if it's in the name of providing for jacey rather than it is for building a life, so to speak.











abc's


BELONGINGS.

broken camera. a broken canon camera of decent quality. there's a little heart drawn on the corner of the holder's side in sharpie, but it's shaky-- the person who drew it probably didn't have full control of their motor skills yet.
car keys. the keys to fick's beloved '91 dusty blue honda civic. attached is a hand-drawn shrinky-dink keychain from the movie the evil dead.
─ snowglobe. a small plastic snowglobe containing a small models of nondescript skyscrapers. it still works when you shake it. the writing on the base of the snowglobe reads 'cincinnati, ohio.'
─ waterlogged letter. a lined piece of paper that held a letter once, but has been so soaked through with water that it's almost illegible. as the water stain lightens near the bottom, the following can be read: '... miss you two. i'll see you in a few weeks for thanksgiving. love, win.'
photograph. a picture of his daughter when she was less than a year old, holding onto her mother's hands as she practices standing for the first time. she's looking right at the camera-- right at her dad, really. her mother is looking at her, smiling like she's never been more content in her life.







HISTORY


BEFORE. ethan 'fick' ficus was born to two perfectly average parents three years after they had his older brother, and two before they had the son that would follow after him-- not to mention their youngest, who would come five after ethan himself.
well, maybe perfectly average doesn't cover it. russell ficus was an overworked man who spent his life working to provide for his family, and much of his time at home having to be a strict parent to support his overworked wife. marilyn ficus was a mother who, while not unloving, had her time rather stretched. not only was she a mother of four boys, but her third child had been born with smith-lemi-opitz syndrome.

this meant that, while ethan's parents were not horrible, being the middle child of four boys-- and the older brother of a child that had a lot needs-- meant that ethan often escaped notice from his parents unless he did something that stood out enough to warrant attention. he learned quickly that earning attention usually came in the form of getting in trouble, something he cared little to do. as a result, he settled into being the member of his family who got to fall into the shadows. he didn't mind it so much, really-- he became a kid who stayed out until dinner playing with his friends, and fell asleep reading books through the moonlight that came in through his window at night.

while he was born on the coast of maine, his family moved to new hampshire to be close to his mother's side of the family when he was eight. his new school wasn't bad, really. the only thing that was really different from his old one is that kids here couldn't seem to say his last name. instead of saying ficus, like the plant, several of them pronounced it as 'fick-is.' the more ethan tried to explain how it was supposed to be said, the more it became a thing. all it took was one older boy to make a joke about what a skinny kid he was, and the nickname 'fick the stick' was born. while he would lose the end of that title as he grew older and filled out, he would carry fick with him into adulthood.

fick went on to spend the rest of his adolescnence the way you'd expect of a child flying under his parent's rader-- sleeping over at his friend's houses, staying out until the streetlights came on, and generally enjoying his boyhood. the distance between him and his family grew-- his brothers started playing sports, he started drawing comics. his older brother jimmy started working out, and he got his first camera. still, going unseen in his family wasn't so bad as long as he got all of his non-social needs met. there was always dinner to be had in the ficus house, even if it was boring or basic, and he was always warm and clothed.

fick's memory starts to get hazier around his sophomore year of high school. there was a girl-- her hair was blonde, and she used to laugh so quietly if there were other people around. every time he tries to think of her now, fick can't seem to remember her; her face is blank in his mind, her body is half-formless, and he can't even recall what her name is. there's only feelings: love, longing, an ache.

he does remember what she gave him. whereas the memory of this girl-- his girlfriend? his ex?-- is hazy, his memory of their child is not. he was a junior when he found out he was going to be a father, and a senior when his daughter was born. jacey was like a light coming on in an empty hallway. while fick had been slipping towards a life led by his lack of ambition, taking whatever life gave him and seeking nothing more, jacey gave him a purpose. jacey gave him a drive. there was a reason for fick to build a better life for himself, no matter how content he might have been in mediocrity.

his parents were not thrilled by the early transition to grandparents. with so much else on their plate, they informed fick that if he wanted to act like he was an adult, he would need to live like one. his actions had consequences, they said. he hadn't argued much; they hadn't cared when he told them that he'd always worn a condom, nor did it seem to matter to them that he hadn't turned eighteen yet. shortly before his daughter was born, fick was told to leave the ficus family home. he lived... somewhere, he knows, but he can't remember where. maybe with the girl? there were people there, even if he can't remember who they were. all he knows is that jacey was there.

jacey was always there, from the moment that she was born. fick practically limped his way through his senior year of high school, and went from part to full-time at the grocery store from the moment he graduated. his free-time was funneled into fatherhood, a job he found far more rewarding than tiresome. jacey filled almost every spare moment of his life, and he gave that joyfully. after all, what is a man with no purpose but reborn once he's given one?

while jacey was always there, though, the girl wasn't. his memories aren't kind enough to offer him an explanation, or even a timeline. she was there for a while, and then she... wasn't. fick doesn't understand much of the why, because he doesn't understand much of her at all without a clear memory. c'mon, man, he can't even remember her name.


THE FOG. he was in the car, he... thinks. there's blanks there. he was driving, and there was snow-- but it had been too early for snow, hadn't it been? and it was so dark, he could barely read the printed directions he'd gotten from mapquest that afternoon.

god, where had fick even been going? where had he ended up? why the hell did he keep driving when he could barely see anymore?


NOW. fick is a father first and above all. as soon as he gets his bearings, his first priority will be finding out how to get back to his daughter. even with some of his memories missing, he remembers jacey better than anything else, and he knows she's the most important part of his life.

on the other hand, his missing memories are burning a hole in the side of his brain. he craves to have the pieces of this girl he's lost, both out of a desire to understand his past and a deep-seated feeling in his chest that tells him she's important. the normally well-balanced and intelligent fick may be compelled to act a bit reckless if he thinks the reward will be a piece of this puzzle.

 
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FIRST ROUND OF APPLICATIONS ARE CLOSED!
(sans the three day extension for others)

ACCEPTED SURVIVORS:
- Greta Waverly as Spine Chill, Nellwyn Bratt as Repressed Alliance (MOI)
- Cyra Ashford as Ace In The Hole mi casa mi casa
- Isabella Montgomery as Object of Obsession angel doe angel doe
- Catalina Mendez as Built To Last .sol. .sol.
- Marcey Welling as Clairvoyance, Jason Hall as Plot Twist! Bluesky_101 Bluesky_101
- Roy Boucher as Saboteur bad wolf bad wolf
- Jonathan Chen as Diversion Wyll Wyll
- Apolline Súkeníková as Botany Knowledge spareparts spareparts
- Rowan Murphy as Technician nightshroud nightshroud
- Astrid Fournier as Parental Guidance, Vidar Østberg as Decisive Strike irregular-neptune irregular-neptune
- Olivia Reynolds as Parental Guidance, Dr. Ming Min as Technician, Hana Wakamori as Adrenaline Scatterbrain Scatterbrain
- Ambrose Moore as Dance With Me, Ben Banister as Adrenaline hotsauce hotsauce
- Madison Lambert as Unbreakable CrimsonInk CrimsonInk
- Richard Tarly as Diversion AI10100 AI10100
- Ethan Fick as Parental Guidance evermoon evermoon
- Floyd Wright as Adrenaline Eteri Eteri

ACCEPTED KILLERS:
- The Host as Cyrus Cain anyasjoy anyasjoy
- The Doll as Floods of Rage (MOI)
- The Dread as Devour Hope, The Nun as Dark Devotion Bluesky_101 Bluesky_101
- The Pantomime as Make Your Choice bad wolf bad wolf
- The Sprout as Hysteria Wyll Wyll
- The Overseer as Blood Warden, The Swarm as Pentimento nightshroud nightshroud
- The Chef as Save The Best for Last, The Metamorph as Haunted Ground, The Woodsman as BBQ & Chili's irregular-neptune irregular-neptune
- The Demon as Dark Devotion, The Wyrm as Spies of the Shadow, The Chairman as Blood Warden, The Beast as Hysteria Scatterbrain Scatterbrain
- The Barbie as Plaything, The Jester as Hysteria hotsauce hotsauce
- The Sister as Dark Devotion evermoon evermoon
- The Grim Rest as Hysteria spareparts spareparts
- The Judge as BBQ & Chili's Eteri Eteri
- The Mother as Grim Embrace CrimsonInk CrimsonInk
- The Trawlerman as BBQ & Chili's, The Sphinx Twist Twist

CURRENT EXTENSIONS:
- myself & my wife anyasjoy anyasjoy , mi casa mi casa angel doe angel doe armeen armeen CrimsonInk CrimsonInk AND Sagey Sagey is reserved.
 
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HYSTERIA. TRIGGER WARNING: DRUG ABUSE, FAMILY ISSUES, ED, ARSON, MURDER,




/* --- base code --- */











© akeno.




















1970-1997












FULL NAME. John Øst

D.O.B. December 30th, 1970.

P.O.B. Cutler, California

GENDER. cis male. he/him.

SEXUALITY. bisexual

ALIAS. grim rest

ROLE. hysteria

SPECIES. human in perpetual insomnia & methamphetamine-fueled bender


visage.


















DESCRIPTION. pallid pale skin tinged with a sickly canvas of yellow, gray, and purple, a testament to his illness, easy bruising, and wasted appearance. his eyes, a murky blend of green and gold, carried a shadow of dread beneath their surface. half-closed, as if he were perpetually on the verge of sleep, yet strained–a war with rest. the strained intensity hinted at a profound, almost otherworldly dread--sunken and hollowed with a vacant stare of a soul trapped in relentless torment. gaunt frame, silhouette of skin and bones, every rib and vertebrae sharply outlined like a living anatomy chart–his every move looked to others like it hurt.



ATTIRE. in life, he was rarely seen outside of his job or the dingy bars he frequented in the dead of night. clad in his threadbare uniform or keeping the pants to instead sport the grimly splotched white shirt he’d worn underneath it. scuffed, black steel-toed boots to match. most of his life was spent rotting away in his home, with his shirt off–revealing his emaciated figure and denim jeans that hung off him like extra skin, black leather belt barely keeping them on. in this relentless death match, he’s been trapped in what he’s always rotted in–mirrors all around to remind him of the grotesque reality of his condition.



WEAPON. cutting torch. used to bludgeon and prod–with a finishing move of the gas can in the basement doused on the survivor, the torch emitting a continuous, intense flame ending their lives in one cruel move. john prefers ashes as a means of ridding his victims. at times bones do not become pure ash like the rest of the body, he chucks them in the corner of the room–the first thing survivors see when they’ve been dragged into the basement.



FACE CLAIM. christian bale



fill out the realm form on discord. --will do boss.








LIKES.

isolation. john finds solace in being alone, away from the prying eyes and judgments of others. his isolation mirrors his mental state and contributes to his paranoia.

routine. despite his deteriorating mental health, trevor clings to the routines and habits he had in his work at the factory. often, he works on projects within his realm for his own enjoyment. this routine provides a semblance of control in his chaotic life and new reality.

darkness. his factory realm is dimly lit. he prefers it to be, having a discomfort with light and too much clarity.

methamphetamine. john’s means of staying awake and managing his chronic fatigue and deteriorating health in his reality. the drug exacerbates his paranoia and delusions, providing a deceptive burst of energy and focus at work. since being taken by the entity during a drug-fueled binge, he experiences the lingering effects of the drug as an unrelenting, driving force.

his metalworking projects. john sees old machinery as a way to channel his obsession. with a deep familiarity with the factory’s equipment and a lifelong interest in repairing and working on machines, he derives a perverse comfort from manipulating industrial tools. what was once a consuming passion in his reality remains a central fixation in his current realm.



DISLIKES.


social interaction. trevor is uncomfortable with socializing and becomes increasingly hostile or withdrawn around other people, preferring to avoid them. once, long ago, he was decently adjusted and had friends around him–but towards the end of his life he saw them more as nuisances.

lights. harsh or bright lighting is unsettling for trevor, exposing the truth he tries to avoid and intensifying his paranoia. he hates flashlights.

total silence. he constant roaring or humming noises in the factory keep his mind occupied. he prefers it to be this way. he also hates when survivors don't entertain him. although he's adverse to social interaction in casual settings, his meetings with survivors serve as his only means of interaction--and he takes full advantage of such things.

mirrors. john is haunted by his reflection and struggles with self-image, making mirrors a source of discomfort and distress. every mirrored object in his realm are grotesquely warped, serving as confusing source of truth for any survivor resting their eyes too long on it--adding to the sense of eerie paranoia within his factory.

tough guys. john has always had a deep mistrust of authority figures, often fighting with his coworkers and managers in his reality. especially men who give off an arrogance over him. he is especially cruel to them, less cruel to more cowering people or women.



HOBBIES.


─ elaborating later, sorry i forgot this one



STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.

+technical expertise. john has a deep understanding of machinery and industrial equipment, allowing him to operate and repair complex tools with proficiency. his skill in this area makes him highly adept at manipulating and using factory equipment to his advantage.

+resourcefulness. his experience with machinery and problem-solving enables him to improvise and adapt in challenging situations. he can find innovative solutions using the tools and resources available in his environment.

+physical resilience. despite his deteriorating mental health, john displays a level of physical endurance in part to his methamphetamine boost. his ability to continue pursuing under extreme fatigue and stress demonstrates a form of gritty determination.

+attention to detail. john's obsessive nature allows him to focus intensely on tasks, often noticing minute details that others might overlook. this can be an advantage when dealing with complex situations.

+stealth. john's preference for isolation have honed his ability to move quietly and evade detection. in the chaotic environment of the factory, the constant loud machinery becomes a form of camouflage for him, almost transforming into a new kind of silence. this cacophony, which he has grown accustomed to, becomes a strategic advantage, as survivors are often disoriented and thrown off by the overwhelming noise, making it easier for him to remain unseen and strike unexpectedly.

-psychological instability. john's severe paranoia, delusions, and insomnia undermine his mental stability, leading to erratic behavior and impaired judgment. this instability often clouds his decision-making and affects his interactions with others.

-lack of sleep. chronic insomnia has severely impacted his mental health and physical well-being. his inability to sleep, a problem that plagued him in life, continues to haunt him in the realm. the ongoing sleep deprivation further deteriorates his cognitive function and emotional stability, making him increasingly erratic and unpredictable. in the realm, it manifests as an endless, restless vigilance, adding to the oppressive atmosphere that surrounds him.

-physical deterioration. chronic fatigue and poor health have taken a toll on his physical condition, making him weaker and less coordinated over time. his physical state can hinder his effectiveness in hand-to-hand combat which is why he prefers trickery and deceit to lead his victims to the basement where they're immobile and vulnerable.

-hesitance towards vulnerability. it leads him to be somewhat more lenient with individuals he perceives as vulnerable, particularly women. his interactions with these weaker targets often reflect a twisted sense of empathy or hesitance. as a result, vulnerable people, especially women, may find it easier to evade or escape from him compared to others. this leniency stems from his complex mix of guilt and an oddly protective impulse, which makes him less aggressive towards those he views as more defenseless. while he still poses a threat, his approach to these individuals is marked by a certain reluctance, making their escape slightly more feasible in the face of his otherwise relentless pursuit. though, this weakness is ever fluctuating due to his mental instability. he’s picky.



FEAR.


being alone forever, or being the way he is for forever. it’s obvious john has always been one to self-sabatoge his relationships. but in the back of his head, he’s struggled with the fear he’s gone too far with his mental and physical condition. that he won’t have a chance at being normal ever again. his fear of being trapped in perpetual loneliness is exacerbated, making the prospect of eternal isolation feel even more overwhelming. to cope with this fear, he immerses himself in constant activity, trying to keep his mind occupied and avoid confronting the painful reality of his solitude.



PSY.




john was always a quiet child, a solitary figure who often tried but rarely succeeded in making friends. he gravitated towards other outcasts, finding solace in their shared sense of displacement. from an early age, he developed a passion for video games and building things, a love nurtured by his father's mechanical work. yet, john struggled with depression and acute anxiety throughout his life. even as an adult, he largely isolated himself, spending most of his time in his apartment. he made an effort to socialize with co-workers at bars and maintained relationships with women, though these connections began to unravel following an accident. in the final years of his life, john's physical and mental health deteriorated further, plagued by emotional instability, drug use, and a secret that he kept hidden from those around him.

(gna elaborate on this further, but that's the gist).











abc's


POWER.

Distorted Mirrors. John’s placed three Distored Mirrors around his factory. The corrupted mirrors, warp the survivor’s view when they are within a certain range–in direct view, those who look at a mirror are afflicted with dread–revealing their location to John for a limited time, his terror radius reduced greatly. John’s paranoia is connected with these mirrors, leading him to them with hast if they aren’t able to shake the dread in a timely manner.

Dread affects survivors differently, those who are categorized as more weak of heart or vulnerable will have a harder time looking away–becoming “exposed” and for a short duration, makes them vulnerable to a one-hit downs. Physically, a blurred vision effect reduces their ability to see other survivors and objectives clearly thus making them easier targets.

Particularly, those who meet the Distored Mirror completely alone are at risk to suffer from a “broken" status effect lasting for a grueling ten minutes, preventing them from healing themselves or others during this time.

The entity has perpetually trapped John in a relentless methamphetamine high. Those who stick together in a group of even 2 are at a higher risk for this to be triggered, fueling a paranoid frenzy that increases his movement speed by 5% after he’s aware you’re in a group–this could be from running into you, or after a Distorted Mirror is triggered. The more people together, the higher his movement speed becomes.




THE MORI.

After downing the survivor, John slowly approaches with a menacing gait, dragging the surivor into his factory’s basement littered with ash and industrial equipment–in the farthest corner back, only emitted by the low light by the edge of the stairs are a pile of charred bones. He douses the gas canister over the survivor and ignites his cutting torch. The survivor is engulfed in flame–an intense and unrelenting final blaze. The survivor’s screams are drowned out by the roar of fire and the factory’s noise seem to grow so loud it can be heard by neighboring realms.



BELONGINGS.


blueprints. Dirty, water-damaged blueprints of the factory, reflecting his obsessive connection to the place and its machinery.

leather bound notebook. Crumpled and scribbled notes or journal pages filled with erratic writings and delusions, symbolizing his psychological instability and fractured thoughts.

love letter. An old, crumpled love letter from a past romantic interest that ended shortly after his accident and descent into drugs–sabatoged entirely by himself.

military camp souvenir. A small, personal item–a locket of him and his friend– from his time at the military camp, showcasing the brief connection he had with his friend and the shock of betrayal.

old work id badge. His ID badge from the factory, a photo of him pictured before his accident–a hopeful, yet shy smile.

slaughterhouse-five by kurt vonnegut. a book he read many times in his life–a mirror to his own fractured existence.







HISTORY


BEFORE.
John was primarily raised by his grandparents while his young parents worked to stabilize their lives. At age 12, he moved in with his father and stepmother but continued to see his biological mother, as both parents had successfully overcome their previous substance issues. Despite maintaining a cordial relationship with his family, John struggled with truancy, which led to his expulsion from most schools in the county. Growing up, he was shy, socially awkward, and had low self-esteem, making him an easy target for bullies and further isolating him.

After a year of homeschooling, his father sent him to a military camp, where John finally made a close friend who shared his ideals. However, after being expelled from the camp for smoking weed, John discovered that his friend was plotting a mass shooting, with a manifesto full of violent rants against women and authority. His friend was arrested for illegal weapons possession, and John was sent back home to finish high school in a nearby town. The 13 year old was shocked by the ordeal, deeply traumatizing him and his trust since it was nearly the only real friend he thought he’d made.

tumblr_inline_oe9rtoBS8q1t2kn7o_400.gifv


Back home, John's father relapsed into substance abuse, causing his stepmother to leave him. John had to take on various jobs, including car repairs and odd jobs around the neighborhood, to support his increasingly dysfunctional household.

His mother, unwilling to deal with the situation despite not even living with either of them, moved out of state and severed all contact with John and his father.

When John finally moved out of Cutler, it was after his father had entered a long-term sober living program. Their house had been forfeited due to unpaid bills and deteriorated conditions. At 21, without much direction, John decided on a whim to relocate to a small town outside Eugene, Oregon.



THE SHIFT.
In Eugene, John threw himself into work, trying to escape his troubled past. His commitment to his job became obsessive, but it was a desperate attempt to find purpose. One fateful night, while rushing to get home after a long shift and a couple too many drinks at a bar with his coworkers, John accidentally hit and killed a young boy in a hit-and-run. The incident shook him deeply, but he couldn't bring himself to confront the guilt nor turn himself in.

Instead, John sought solace in methamphetamine and alcohol. His use of drugs and alcohol quickly escalated, and he began suffering from severe paranoia and extreme insomnia. His condition deteriorated over the next year, causing erratic behavior at work. His coworkers noticed his declining state and accused him of endangering their safety on account of several workplace accidents and near fatalities.

On a drug-fueled bender, John broke into the factory under the pretense of working late. In his increasingly fractured state, he started a fire and then watched it burn, detached from the reality of the destruction around him. Unable to muster the will to extinguish the flames, he succumbed to the blaze, yet woke up in a hospital bed–badly burned and disoriented. The police confronted him, and he confessed to everything he’d been hiding for the past year.

In waiting for his condition to get better, he succumbed to his injuries–drifting off into a forever sleep and straight into the entity’s lair.



NOW. John keeps himself occupied, a relentless whirlwind of activity driven by his perpetual sleeplessness and the drug-induced haze that the entity has ensnared him in. His days are rigidly structured, a dutiful adherence to routine that masks the turmoil simmering beneath. Though he maintains a facade of order, the ceaseless busyness is but a fragile shield against the gut-wrenching misery that gnaws at him. Trapped in a cycle with no apparent escape, John is haunted by a desperate longing for another chance, a chance that forever eludes him. The harsh reality of his inescapable situation is a constant companion, a bitter truth that he confronts with unrelenting harshness, all while grappling with the crushing weight of hopelessness.

 
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© akeno.




















1986












FULL NAME. margaret “maggie” hatfield
D.O.B. may 13th, 1965, twenty-one
P.O.B. sterling heights, michigan
GENDER. cisgender female, she/her
SEXUALITY. unlabeled
OCCUPATION. college student; was one year away from finishing nursing school
SKILLS. her knowledge of human anatomy gives her insight into how much damage the body can take; first aid training; did track in high school; self-preservation instincts
ROLE. adrenaline

visage.


















DESCRIPTION. maggie’s face is one that conveys an air of innocence; her doe eyes and rounded cheekbones incite an inane feeling of trust in all who gaze upon them—truly, she could get away with murder if she so chose, but malevolence has never been in her nature. her spirit is soft and gentle, much like the waves in her tawny hair. her skin is tanned and dotted with freckles from years spent leisurely beneath the warmth of the sun, and a small birthmark sits just to the side of her left eye—a source of insecurity in her childhood, though she wears it with pride now. she’s the epitome of a girl-next-door—pretty, yet not to the point of her beauty being intimidating or unapproachable. even so, she’s more than just a face that’s easy on the eyes—at 5’5”, she doesn’t appear to much of a threat, but looks are deceiving. her body’s toned from years of running track and field, a hobby that she still keeps up in the form of morning jogs. her physical fitness and health is something that she’s always valued, and it’s come in handy on more than one occasion.

ATTIRE. taught to think highly of the clothes she puts on her body, maggie’s outfits have always been very put-together. sweater vests and button-up shirts have always been a staple in her wardrobe, typically paired with a plaid skirt or a pair of stiff high-waisted jeans that she claims “aren’t as uncomfortable as they look,” with a reassuring smile. on the night she went missing, though, she was on her way home from a date gone awry, and she’d been dressed a little nicer than usual: a red, sleeveless button-down blouse donning a floral pattern, a jacket in the same hue, and a denim skirt, all of which were described in the missing flyers that’d been hung up around town in her absence. perhaps the most notable bit of her ensemble, however, were her crimson reebok sneakers—a useful tool in her hasty escape as she ran unknowingly into the fog.

FACE CLAIM. ella purnell








LIKES.
─ list up to five likes.



DISLIKES.

─ list up to five dislikes.



HOBBIES.

─ did they have hobbies before?



STRENGTHS & WEAKNESSES.

(+) endurance: not only is maggie fast, but she can maintain speed for long distances. she spent countless hours training for track meets while she was still in school—the trophies lining her old bedroom’s shelves were more than enough proof of that—but little did she know that she was building up a skill that would save her life later.
(+) unassuming: maggie has never been the type of girl to demand attention—in fact, more times than not, she’s more comfortable when she’s not in the spotlight. she’s always been relatively quiet, letting others answer questions she knows the answers to and slipping into rooms unannounced, but she’s found that it’s more of a strength than a weakness as it was implied to be growing up—“god, mags, speak up!”
(+) wound-dressing: she’s well-versed in caring for sport-related injuries—anything from bandaging scraped knees to setting broken shins. she’s still not quite on the level of a seasoned professional, but she knows her way around a first aid kit and can make do with what she has in the moment, if need be.
(-) combat: while maggie may be quick on her feet, she’s not one for fighting—in fact, she tends to run from conflict any time she’s allowed the chance. she’s never thrown a punch in her life—she’s never had to—and if put in a situation where hurting someone else was her only means of survival, she’s not so sure that she would be able to follow through.
(-) overly-trusting: maggie’s biggest downfall, perhaps, is her determination to see the best in people, even when there is none to find. her rose-tinted glasses held a permanent place in her day-to-day wear until it was too late. now, the lenses are beginning to crack, allowing bits of reality to seep through, but she still holds out hope for others when given the choice, affording them the benefit of the doubt until proven otherwise.
(-) strategizing: this isn’t to say that maggie lacks the brain power required to plan ahead, it’s simply not her strong suit. she often fails to consider possible outcomes, getting too swept up in achieving her goal that she doesn’t stop to think about how exactly she’s going to do so. she’s prone to acting in the moment, something that’s managed to work for her so far, though whether that winning streak will hold fast remains to be seen.


FEAR.

claustrophobia: after being locked away for so long, tight spaces or the idea of not being able to leave a confined area at will make her restless.



PSY.




(+) compassionate: maggie’s a sympathetic person at her core—it’s what drove her towards the medical field initially. she does what she can to help others, and while she may not always have something useful to offer in every situation, it’s the thought that counts. rarely has she met a person that she couldn’t find some reason to care for.
(+) friendly: she may not be the most outgoing person, but maggie likes to consider herself as someone that’s easy to get along with. on more than one occasion, she’s been a listening ear to strangers, told afterwards amid apologies that she just “looked like someone easy to talk to.” she takes it as a compliment that she has an inviting demeanor, though she hasn’t always invited the right people into her life.
(+) optimistic: no matter how dire the circumstances may seem, maggie will always somehow manage to find a bit of hope in the dark times—a light at the end of the tunnel. it’s what keeps her moving forward, acting as a driving force to save herself and maybe even a few others along the way, should they be susceptible to her seemingly endless supply of inspiration.
(+) resourceful: maggie’s lack of planning ahead makes her a quick-witted person, good at coming up with solutions in the spur of the moment to unexpected problems. she’s adaptable, good at using her surroundings to her advantage, whether that means finding a makeshift bandage or a place to bide her time until escape is a more feasible option.
(-) flighty: if there’s one thing that maggie hates, it’s confrontation. she runs from a fight if she can, avoiding it at all costs for the sake of saving everyone’s feelings. the thought of unintentionally knocking someone down a peg just to prove herself right in a given situation doesn’t seem worth it to her. she would almost prefer a lack of closure.
(-) naïve: maggie is all-too-willing to believe that there is good to be found in everyone, that those around her have nothing but pure intentions. it’s easy to fool her gullible ears with a sweet lie, so long as it aligns with her view of someone, and she’s more than paid the price of it.
(-) people pleaser: telling people ‘no’ has always been an issue for maggie. she wants to make her friends and family—even strangers, at times—happy, whether it comes at her own expense or not. the voice in her head may be sending a distress signal, telling her that something may not be how it appears, but she’s too nice to act upon it, swallowing her worries with a smile.
(-) sheltered: due to a life spent being coddled, a lot of things tend to fly over maggie’s head. it could come across as arrogance to those who don’t know her well—a spoiled brat unaware of the struggles of others—but it’s an unintentional downfall on her part. she means well, but things have to be explained to her at times, something that not everyone has the patience for.











abc's


BELONGINGS.
heart-shaped locket: hanging from a gold chain, it was a sixteenth birthday present from her mother. the front of the heart is engraved with a pattern of flowers, though it’s been worn smooth over the years from all the fiddling she’s done with it. inside is a picture of maggie with her ex-boyfriend—she never had the time to take it out.
first place track-and-field trophy: it’s from the last meet she ever competed in; the end of an era and what she had viewed at the time as the beginning of the rest of her life.
pink scrubs: maggie was going to start her internship at the local hospital her next year at college and had bought the uniform months in advance out of eagerness. there’s a heart embroidered on the corner of the pocket—courtesy of her mother, for good luck.
walkman & headphones: something she always takes on her morning jogs around the neighborhood. it still has the kim wilde cassette tape in it from the day she went missing.
notepad: there’s 56 tallies to mark 56 days spent locked away from the rest of civilization. on the outskirts of her hometown, mere miles away from her house—her family—she had never felt so cut off from the rest of the world.







HISTORY


tw: kidnapping
BEFORE. margaret hatfield grew up in suburbia paradise. her family’s house, with its white picket fence and pristinely-cut hedges, sat just before the cul-de-sac at the end of sycamore drive. she never had reason to feel unsafe, so she never did.

truthfully, her life was hand-fed to her on a silver spoon—her father’s wealth of earnings and her well-meaning mother’s love saw to that. as the couple’s only child, the world seemed to revolve around maggie in those four walls.

outside of them, she had a reputation for being good—maggie was a good girl, she was good in school, she was good with people—but the only thing she was great at was running. all throughout high school, her saturdays were spent on the field, her small community gathered to cheer her on to victory, among whom was her neighbor, gideon adler.

“you’re a slippery one. anyone that wants to catch you will have their work cut out for them.”

maggie had ignored the shudder that’d run down her spine at the man’s odd compliment, reaching up a hand to push back a sweaty strand of her bangs as she offered a stiff smile in return. what reason did she have to be wary of him? he was respected within the town, a familiar face. each morning when maggie was going for her runs before school, gideon would be out getting mail two doors down from her own house. sometimes they stopped to chat, others it was nothing more than a friendly wave exchanged in passing, but he’d never given her cause for concern, even if his words didn’t always align with the kind look in his eyes.

yet.

some people weren’t nearly as open about their intentions as maggie was, but her sheltered childhood had given her a warped view of how the world worked.

take her boyfriend, for example. he only wanted one thing from her, and it wasn’t the kind of love she was ready to give—maggie told him so, too, in the same breath that she demanded the car be pulled over so that she could walk the rest of the way home. it was a long time coming, really—long distance relationships never worked, and after she graduated college, her hometown visits would be few and far between. with only one year left, the curtains were already closing on their coupling—maggie had just sped up the process.

the soles of margaret’s sneakers splashed against wet concrete as she trudged her way home. it was dark now, and the walk was longer than she had anticipated.

a pair of headlights illuminated her from behind, the sound of tires crunching against asphalt slowing as the vehicle approached.

maggie rolled her eyes, poised to turn around and tell her ex-boyfriend to get lost, but she stopped short when she saw who sat on the other side of the open window.

“need a ride?” gideon asked. “i’m headed that way.”

except, he wasn’t. not after he had maggie safely strapped into his passenger seat.

gideon had never meant her any harm—he just wanted someone to play house with, but no one else saw it that way.

maggie kept track of the days spent in gideon’s cabin on a notepad she hid beneath her pillow each night. her college’s classes had started back a week ago, and she was still no closer to escape than she had been the night he’d first taken her there, thrown over his shoulder, kicking and screaming.

next month, her internship would start.

for someone who the world had spun around for so long, it was doing an awfully good job of continuing its rotations without her.

THE FOG. day 56. maggie’s clothes were starting to smell now. gideon provided food and offered cheap forms of entertainment in the form of card games, but he hadn’t lived with another woman since his mother had died. he didn’t know how to take care of one. he could barely take care of himself.

gideon never came that night.

maggie was rarely one to wish ill upon another human being, but it was what she’d been praying for for months. she didn’t care what ill fate had befallen him, but she was alone. finally.

unbeknownst to her, gideon had been detained for questioning at the local sheriff’s department regarding his odd behavior recently and whether or not it had anything to do with the missing girl plastered on milk cartons all over the city, smiling at passersby from posters on every telephone pole they passed.

margaret acted fast. gideon ensured he locked the door each time he departed from their odd visits. she had no hope of escape that way, but with enough force, she was able to break out a window panel using wooden chair in her bedroom.

that damn chair. maggie couldn’t count the times she’d awoken at night to find gideon sitting there, watching her sleep. it only seemed fitting for it to be a part of her release now.

maggie paid no mind to the bite of glass on her skin as she pulled herself out of the hole she’d created in the window, toppling to the ground with a wince. she scrambled to her feet as fast as her pained legs would allow, and then she ran.

she didn’t know where she was going, but she wouldn’t dare stop herself once she’d started. trees passed by in a blur, pine straw slipping under feet and maggie propelled herself onward. her lungs stung in the cold air, head pounding with each step she took, but still, she ran.

she ran until the familiar line of her neighborhood’s roofs peeked over the horizon, but if she’d been going slower, she might’ve stopped to take note of the fact that something just wasn’t quite right.

maggie climbed over the white picket fence that kept her family’s backyard tucked away from the harshness of the world. the lights were out inside, and as margaret pushed open the sliding glass door, a sense of dread settled over her. she was still alone.

NOW. maggie gasped, sitting up among the leaves. her arms and legs were still streaked with dried blood, and the campfire across from her had been put out, smoke spiraling into the grey sky. where was she?

 

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