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Fantasy Four Heavenly Kings: CS Thread

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  • SCARLET PHOENIXES
    Problem Solver
    ELEANORE BREWER
    LEGAL NAME
    Eleanore Brewer
    AGE & BIRTH
    35 (June 7, 1987)
    ALIAS
    Gravedigger
    GENDER
    Female
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    6'02" (188 cm) | 177 lb (80 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Veteran of the Scarlet Phoenixes
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2013
    REPUTATION
    Disconnected Cleanup Crew
    Home District
    South District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    More of a walking shadow than a human being, Eleanore Brewer is the type of person in the corner of a meeting you hope you never have to notice. Tall, lanky, and with a slight sneer paying rent to remain on her face at all time, she's the kind of person the Phoenixes have hanging around to ensure that sponsoring someone isn't a decision to take lightly, and to crack her knuckles menacingly while someone else gives you "one more chance.". Her being otherwise powerful muscle is useful for tying up wriggling loose ends and cleaning up problems before word of them even needs to reach the high brass. Her intimidating, uncaring, "I'd take another veteran out if I was given the nod" reputation among the family of flaming birds hides the fact that she's rather socially inept when people manage to get to know her, with her interests and out of gang activities seeming to be too... dorky for a trained killer.
    PERSONALITY

    "I hate killing just for business. Everyone deserves something deeply personal to die over."

    Eleanore Brewer is not a nice lady, it is said. She is cruel, and heartless, and holds no regards for life of any kind, it is said. It is said that if you turn traitor on the phoenixes and she catches you, you'll wish you were dead hours before you were given the chance to be so. It is all said to rookies of the Phoenixes, those that have passed their trials and gained their sponsorships but still haven't just yet recognized the new weight of their positions in the family, but Eleanore is as much of a boogieman to veteran members alike. Eleanore has a set of eyes on the back of her head that no potential could get the jump on her against, it's said. Eleanore merely needs to look at you a certain way and you'll die of a heart attack on the spot, it's said. Eleanore makes her own shotgun shells and puts shards of the bones of her last victims into each one, it's said. Eleanore haunts the Phoenixes' graveyard, the Roost, like a specter, making sure their dead brothers and sisters remain dead, it's said. Eleanore's killed her own father without the world knowing about it, it's said. Eleanore has tried to find who, precisely, is saying all of this about her, but none of it is ever said to her face. And Eleanore Brewer is quite fine with that, happily feeding into this reputation when given the chance. No reason for another veteran to get the idea that it's a smart choice to be chummy with their potential executioner. However, for everything that's said about her, not an awful lot is actually known. Sure, she's a tough bit of muscle for intimidating people, both in and out of the gang, she's good at dealing with problems that threaten to disrupt the Phoenixes and can be stopped by one hypercompetent person, and that's it. That's for the best. If the stuff said about her began to be more of the truth, Eleanore Brewer would be a different sort of figure entirely. The type you'd go to not when you needed a problem desperately solved at any cost, but who'd you'd go to if you were trying to find a rare trading card at a moderate budget.

    The truth of Eleanore Brewer is that she has never had all that much interaction with her fellow humans, and especially has no skill in the art. When being threatening or cold doesn't work for a situation, it can be surprisingly awkward to witness her trying to do things like "comment on the weather" or "make small talk" while still keeping up being Eleanore Brewer, internal enforcer. Don't get it wrong, Eleanore is a cold blooded, expert killer, trained and ready to take down people who think they've invincible at a drop of the hat. It's just that not every moment of Eleanore's life is danger and risk, and that results in her hobbies and lifestyle being... counterintuitive to her position. You don't expect her to have an unhealthy interest in animations, or that she trawls around trading bazaars looking for good deals on odd collectibles, or that she has more pairs of themed and branded pajamas in her home than armored suits and dresses. The only reason she picked up cigarettes was mostly because that's what was expected for someone like her, she doesn't even particularly like them or have any desire to move to anything stronger than tobacco. And hell, she even believes in ghosts, now that her father's passed away. It'd seem completely counterintuitive for someone who spends her time killing people who likely despise her to have a belief in them being able to affect her life afterwards, but she does, and handles it with mostly dignity. It's one of the reasons why she tries to ensure that she herself has a reason to kill any other veteran the Phoenixes need taken out, rather than just doing it for the gang itself. Eleanore Brewer can't imagine a worse indignity for the dead than having died for nothing personal. At the end of the day, Eleanore is strange, and not in a very intimidating way.

    Image Source: https://twitter.com/sirius_wr
 
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  • SCARLET PHOENIXES
    MEATLOCK
    Lizzie McG Wishes She Were Me
    LEGAL NAME
    Charlize "Lizzie" "Meatlock" Karma Coleman
    AGE & BIRTH
    25 (March 31, 1997)
    ALIAS
    MEATLOCK
    GENDER
    Nonbinary, They/Them.
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    5'4" (162.54 cm) | 151lb (68.5 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Rookie of the Scarlet Phoenixes
    ACTIVE SINCE
    July 12, 2022
    REPUTATION
    Eccentric Newbie
    Home District
    South District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    Lizzie, better known as Meatlock, has dark olive skin with messy auburn hair, the bangs pinned back into a ponytail.

    They've got a flat chest, small waist and large hips, and they're rather proud of it, evident by their wardrobe abundant with crop tops and low rise, although baggy, khakis. However, almost constantly glued to their face, are green goggles. The left eye has been blacked out on the inside and covered with a huge red X on the outside. There are two very important reasons for these goggle-related decisions. A. they look cool, and B. underneath the left side of the goggles is a brutal scar that takes up a good amount of the space. This also means they're partially blind, but they don't really mind it.

    They typically wear neutral or natural tones, though they tend to draw and doodle all over their clothes in bright red ink.
    PERSONALITY
    Eccentric is a decent word to use when describing Meatlock. A little odd, they are. Not exactly mad, but definitely of the mentally unhealthy type. Sudden, extreme mood swings, bouts of mania, and radical beliefs makes them not the easiest person to be around. It's not like they lack empathy or anything, it's just hard to keep all the energy in, and violence is an easy outlet.

    Meatlock likes to make things. They like to figure out how things work, and then make them better, or figure out how to make them with more limited materials. In fact, that's how they got their name--- by making a lock out of meat. That's what they'd tell you, anyway. It's not true. In reality, they're not very good at tinkering or engineering. But they're pretty good at nice-looking crafts!
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY
    Meatlock had a rather normal childhood. Well, normal for someone raised in New Oasis. Except for one little issue; around the age of 16, Meatlock's personality... changed. Unstable, manic episodes had Meatlock destroying furniture and running the family bank account dry. When they were urged to find a job to get them out of the house, they'd cause catastrophic damage to the workplace due to "unpleasant customers".

    There were also periods of calm. During which, Meatlock would act as normal, leading their family to wonder what had even happened. But the episodes would continue, equally as destructive, and so, as soon as they were legally allowed to, their parents cancelled the show.

    For seven odd years, Meatlock surfed couches, whether the owner of the couch knew it or not. They made money selling things they hyperfocused on making, and managed to escape apprehension many times over. They either wandered where their compulsions drove them, or they got lost on the roads in the South. Eventually, however, they parked in front of the Scarlet Phoenixes, allowed in after a little conflict.

    Meatlock's reboot would take place on gang turf. Critics say there couldn't be a better setting.
    RELATIONSHIPS
    TBA
 
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  • ALBINO TIGERS
    Aquatic Apothecary
    LENRAS MOTESFONT, PHD
    LEGAL NAME
    Lenras Motesfont
    AGE & BIRTH
    43 (January 3, 1979)
    ALIASES
    Doctor, Selachii, Maw
    GENDER
    Intersex
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    9'05" (291 cm) | 847 lb (384 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Veteran of the Albino Tigers
    ACTIVE SINCE
    1994
    REPUTATION
    Affable Business, Cold Science
    Home District
    North District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    You would be excused for thinking that Lenras wasn't a human at first glance. Or second. Or a third, and even on a long stare... it's still hard to believe when he actively says that he's one. A DNA test probably wouldn't return much of the human variety. Does getting born by a human grant you birthright into the human race? He seems to think so.

    Lenras is a towering, massive figure, one who has to bend over in any building that doesn't have a ten foot ceiling, and when he attempts to appear disarming or casual it always looks like satirical bait on him. An uneducated examination shows that he's a humanoid hybrid of a handful of aquatic creatures, some mammals and others purely fish. Black and gray scaled skin, fins across his back and arms, a muscular tail, and a head and jawline that incites primal fear in anyone who had an ancestor lose a limb to a shark attack. As for clothing, it is purely custom tailored, as if anything else would ever hope to fit his unique body type. And it is expensive. High quality materials that have to double as waterproof, prices racking up into the tens of thousands, which shows on the designs carefully embellished onto each sleeve. It's a shame that attention is taken away from the clothing to his breathing apparatus, an unique gas mask covering his entire lower jaw up to his gills, with a collection of pipes and cords leading to what appears to be three interlocked air tanks. He looks more like some sunday cartoon experiment gone wrong than a living, breathing, and more importantly intelligent thing, a fact he's not above exploiting.
    PERSONALITY
    Lenras as a whole being can be described as solid and unshakeable. He enjoys bringing a casual flair in most of his buisinesses, legal or under the table, treating most everyone with a level of respect and never being far from cracking a joke. It takes a lot of either being impossibly insistent on insulting him and his offers or hitting him where it really, truly hurts, physically or economically, for him to drop his attempts at being amiable with even the most hated of the Tiger's foes. Perhaps it's because he's confident in his stature, status, and Potential, that he seems so laid back in the cutthroat community of New Oasis. It doesn't carry over to his work's finer details. He's as cutthroat as the rest of them, perhaps more so, in how he handles his work for either his personal gain or for the Albino Tigers. He'll just be happy to stab you in the chest with a smile on his face instead of bothering with shadowy corners and twisting the blade. And he rarely gives anyone the pleasure of thinking they've truly annoyed him, even when he loses.

    His true passion is his chemistry, something he's happy to discuss in great detail with any man off the street. While he holds his other work in decent regards, he gives his scientific endeavors much more of his attention when possible. An eclectic approach of true enthusiasm is what anyone who works with him on the subject will usually take away, alongside a complete disregard for any consequences or the standard morals. Not being a medical doctor means he doesn't even have to try to justify his actions against a Hippocratic Oath, and his quest for the optimal medication for any use or examination of any subject, nothing's too far for Doctor Motesfont. Perhaps the least concerning one of those acts is endorsing the gaining of DNA samples, the willingness of the source mattering not as long as there's something useful for him to pay for when all's said or done. He's often seen making deals with recent debtors to the Tigers, offering to pay off substantial amounts or all of their debts for just one or so live tests... Smart people ignore the offer, lucky people come back mostly unchanged. Lenras doesn't care exactly what happens to any failures along those lines. He's got goals that he wants to reach all across his life, and the ones he holds towards his field of chemistry are the gold standard of them. At least he's willing to compensate and tip anyone still alive enough to ask or their next of kin, and more than happy to treat willing sacrifices towards his scientific progress with a bit more care.

    For all his posturing of a civilized human being, just like you or me, when he's pushed to the edge, the adrenaline is pumping and he's running out of oxygen, he loses control of his brain... s. Due to his biology discussed under his Potential, Lenras' brain is segmented into four different independent parties, and when he's hunting for survival or no longer cognizant, acting casual and lighthearted is well out the window. His brains stop working for a common goal and start vying for control to keep the host body alive at any cost, fighting over the easiest route to take and usually making him exactly the hulking beast his body would lead others to expect of him and transforming anything that stands in his way into a pulp. His breathing gear keeps this worst version of himself a distant threat instead of the real possibility it once was, but it still spikes up at times, especially if he hasn't returned to the water for some time. Some people have discovered this aspect of him by mistakenly thinking that the apparatus on his back is a source of power to be cut off, and not a barrier between them and a graphic, visceral death.
 
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  • ALBINO TIGERS
    Baba
    BABARUTTOTH
    LEGAL NAME
    Babarutthoth
    AGE & BIRTH
    27 September 9th, 1972
    ALIAS
    Baba
    GENDER
    Male
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    5'10 (177.8CM) | 175lb (79.3787 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Rookie of the Albino Tigers
    ACTIVE SINCE
    July 10th 2022
    REPUTATION
    Existence is Debatable
    Home District
    East District (Formerly South)
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    Babarutthoth is a man of unimposing stature. He has dark hair and the shadows under his eyes suggest he doesn’t get a lot of sleep. He wears a stylized jacket with a patch depicting some sort of bird with white claw marks through it, jeans and sneakers. If he was in a crowd you’d probably struggle to pick him out.
    PERSONALITY

    Baba is wily and shrewd. During his time as an insurance adjuster he picked up the knack to hone in on key pieces of information from even mundane comments. Baba treats conversation as though it were a duel. Every sentence is a round, every word a move. He considers himself to be adept in these duels, able to slyly finesse information out of the people he speaks to whether by feigning ignorance or alluding to speculative information in search of confirmation. Sensitive information becomes a sword in Baba’s hands, often able to use it offensively while betraying minimal weaknesses of his own.

    Beyond just his words Baba possesses the will to get things done. He is willing to go to lengths most people wouldn’t and where others draw hard lines Baba voraciously scours for loop holes and opportunities. Baba is willing to undertake great costs and sacrifices to achieve his goals and often doesn’t give up before exploring every possible option, even going as far as to weigh the value of his own life against his own goals as though his mortality were just another tool in his belt.

    There certainly is a serious nature to how Baba goes about things, and he often does everything with intent. That said the way he chooses to portray himself is often goofy, inflammatory, or cocky. The personality he portrays is yet another tool he uses to get others to lower their guard or unwittingly surrender more information, but his true ruthless and purposeful personality might emerge in moments of great duress.


    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY

    One fateful, liquor induced evening in December 1999 led a man to experience a serious lapse in judgment and go to the West District to gamble. Unsatisfied with losing he continued to double down by offering collateral in the forms of his house, car, dog, art collection, rare vintages, his engagement ring, and he even offered up his girlfriend. When all of these resources had been exhausted and he continued to lose, a seemingly kind gentleman in his 50s offered to let him continue on credit, an offer the man was all too desperate to accept with a hysteric enthusiasm in an attempt to win back all of his prized possessions.

    By the end of the night the man was no more fortunate, finding himself thousands of Amestriyen in debt. The gentleman who had offered him the lines of credit turned out to be no gentleman at all, explaining to the man that if he could not make good on his debt by noon the next day then he would be indentured until his loan was paid off. The gentleman introduced himself as Babarutthoth, a self made debt collector who also happened to be an HP. Babarutthoth also explained the debt would accrue monthly interest, essentially dooming the man to a life of slavery if he couldn’t come up with thousands of Amestriyen fast. When the man asked Babarutthoth how he could possibly pay off such a debt in such a short time the imposing loan shark grinned and mentioned a less than scrupulous clinics in the North District where the man could sell his organs, his fluids, and even his bones. Desperate to not fall from his comfortable life the man hired a cab ride to the North District on credit.

    Following Babarutthoth’s directions the man navigated to the clinic. At the shady clinic he decided to follow through with the procedures in ascending order of how taxing they would be on his body. He would first donate his fluids, then his organs, then any bones they were willing to take. However as the shady clinician attempted to inject the needle into the man’s bones to collect his bone marrow the needle would not penetrate. After multiple attempts the shady clinician said matter of factly “Son of a bitch, you have Potential.” The clinician’s face betrayed a covetous expression of realization right after this was said and the two men shared a brief but intense moment of eye contact before the man in debt stood up and rushed out of the clinic, fearing for whatever intent those brief expressions on the clinician’s face had betrayed. He was, after all, in the clinic of an illegal organ smuggling operation. Who knows what they might do with an HP they had possession of.

    Still! Even without getting paid for what fluids he had parted with this felt like a stroke of excellent fortune for the man. Surely now that he was SPECIAL a deal could be made with the Gentleman Debt Collector from earlier in the evening. He hailed another cab on credit and left them his information as he took a ride back to the West District. Morning had broke and the man was exhausted but it looked like things were finally going to move in his favor.

    Things did not move in his favor. Babarutthoth met these claims with scepticism and annoyance. How convenient it would be that this debtor suddenly possessed Potential, and beyond that even if he were telling the truth the odds of his Potential being useful were infinitesimal. It was just too convenient of timing. Still the man persisted in begging Babarutthoth to give him a chance and to see what he was made of. It had been a long night and Babarutthoth knew all too well what dealing with these deadbeats was like. In one quick motion Babaruttoth decided to test the man’s claims with an anger fuelled backhand, one certainly too powerful for an NP to handle. WHAM!

    The man couldn’t handle it either. Babarutthoth’s eyebrows raised high in disgust as he looked down at what was left of the man’s face dripping from his hand. “Shite, I didn’t mean to kill em!” This was the last thought that crossed through Babarutthoth’s mind before he looked down again and found his hand was clean. Why wouldn’t it have been clean? He was annoyed for some reason, but didn’t know why. Oh well. He was 65 after all, it was only a matter of time before he started to drift away from himself. Such is life.


    That evening Babarutthoth found he couldn’t shake a sense of unease from the previous day. He had this lingering feeling as though somebody had stiffed him, like somebody owed him money. This feeling also contained a hint of guilt for which he was certain there was no cause, so he attempted to ignore it and turned his mind to more important things: Dinner.

    Babarutthoth was a large and strong man and he had the appetite to match. He would engulf entire chicken legs in his mouth then strip the meat away with his teeth as he pulled the bone out. He was doing exactly this while sitting at his dining room table when without warning, in the deepest part of his enjoyment and focus on the chicken he was devouring, the man he had forgotten *POPPED* into existence standing on the table right in front of him screaming “YOU KILLED ME!?.”

    This sequence of events was so unsettling and alarming that Babarutthoth opened his mouth and inhaled to shout, but his mouth still had a chicken bone in it which caused him to begin to choke. Babarutthoth quickly found himself unable to clutch the bone from his throat, for it was too deep and his fingers too thick, and before long keeled over and lost consciousness on the ground. The man had also frantically tried to help, but when he reached to grab Babarutthoth his hands passed right through as though he were immaterial.

    In fact he quickly deduced that he WAS immaterial. And that he couldn’t go anywhere that Babarutthoth wasn’t looking, though his eyes were closed. When he tried to step away from Babarutthoth’s field of vision he found it appeared as though he himself were Babarutthoth, laying there on the ground unresponsive. When he materialized again, which he found he could do as easily as thinking about it, he tried to call out for help but nobody came. He was powerless in this situation.

    Eventually Babarutthoth was found in his home by some of his associates and carted off to a hospital. The man was there watching the whole time, but try as he might nobody would acknowledge him, nor could he touch them. By the end of the week it was concluded that Babarutthoth had choked on a chicken bone in his home and was in a comatose state. He had been transported to a care facility that specializes in comas and hospice care, Babarutthoth’s family and business interests insisting on keeping him alive in case he ever regained consciousness.

    That is where Babarutthoth and the man stayed for the next 23 years. Despite their insistence on keeping him alive, nobody involved with Babarutthoth ever stopped by to see him. Of course there was an exception, his granddaughter Samira visited more often than anybody else. She was the only person who the man-in-Barbarutthoth had ever seen express true affection for the man and she would often stop by to regale his unresponsive body with myriad stories of how she was rising the ranks of the Albino Tigers or had made a new breakthrough with a product that would dominate a market space. More recently she had been recounting her dismay with a bank heist she was involved with that didn’t go as planned. Her grandfather, Baba to her, was her confidant that she felt she could vent to without restraint. Baba wasn’t listening anyways. The man, however, was. With his limited stimuli in his new day to day life the man hung on her every word, absorbing every little tidbit like a sponge.

    Finally, on July 4th 2022 Babarutthoth breathed his last. As Babarutthoth flatlined a nurse rushed in to check on him and to her horror before her eyes a man burst forth from the comatose patient’s chest, crawling out in a frantic and grisly fashion, blood and little meat giblets clinging to his clothes and flinging around the room.

    “I’m free!” was all the man could manage to croak out before he coughed and sputtered, the nurse still screaming before fleeing from the room. The man gathered himself. He had been trapped inside that body for 23 years! Oh how he needed a shower, and a good meal. The intravenous fluids that they had been making Barbarutthoth subsist off of for the last couple of decades were all the man had found himself able to sip on during his long imprisonment. He quickly left the facility and made his way home.

    Upon his arrival he discovered there was no home. In fact, the layout of the entire neighborhood had changed. People seemed reluctant to answer the questions of a confused and seemingly deranged man covered in blood, but when he inquired about what had happened to the neighborhood he was informed that a hurricane had destroyed it some time back. A HURRICANE DESTROYED HIS HOUSE? All of his belongings, his house, car, dog, art collection, rare vintages, the gaudy engagement ring he had purchased, it was all gone.

    The man considered going to the police, but given his appearance decided that wouldn’t be a good idea. After some consideration he finally settled on sneaking into a hotel, where he showered and cleaned off his clothes the best he could. These were desperate times for him and his time trapped in Babarutthoth’s body certainly made him less reverent of the law, especially with Samira’s tales of lawlessness being all that he had to occupy himself with. After the hotel he pondered where to even begin, and decided to inquire about his debt at the casino. He gave them his old name, but much had changed. Technology had changed, the world had changed. When he inquired under his old name he found that they had no record of him. After the casino he tried the bank. No record. After the bank, he went to a municipality office to see if they’d have a record of his birth certificate and social security number. Nothing.

    He took inventory of his situation and hatched a plan. He was nobody, he had nothing, and he knew so little about this world he found himself in. But he did know some things. He knew Samira. And he knew “Baba.” He’d start with her.
    RELATIONSHIPS
    Babarutthoth (Deceased)
    Samira (Albino Tigers)
 
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  • SABLE SERPENTS
    Stonegazer
    SIC CURLSTONE
    LEGAL NAME
    Sic Curlstone
    AGE & BIRTH
    31 (February 04, 1992)
    ALIAS
    Stonegazer, Stoneborn
    GENDER
    Male
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    5’10 (181 cm) | 164 lbs (74.38 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Rookie of the Sable Serpents
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2022
    REPUTATION
    Reserved, people-pleaser
    Home District
    North District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    If you were to ask anyone on how Sic acts, they'd be hesitant to give a response. Because there's few that truly 'know' Sic Curlstone. If you don't know him, you could assume from his hardened face and incredibly serious aura he's not one for games and doesn't care about others. However, he's the exact opposite. If you know Sic you know that he'll do a lot to please others. He can't stand to see someone unhappy at him. Probably one of the most altruistic characters a person can meet.
    PERSONALITY
    Sic Curlstone has a face that doesn't match his interior. On the outside he appears to be some kind of mafia boss that'd kill you if you didn't have the $1 you owed him from "that one time at that one place". Yet, it's a very common misconception people have about him.

    He's a man that hates being scolded at, berated, or at the least, insulted. Sic does whatever he can to make sure everyone around him is happy, at all costs. He's seen a lot of disappointment in his past, and that's something he'd prefer to leave behind. Along with this tendency of his, comes his ability to not be angered easily. If others are at fault, it's okay. Mistakes happen! If they did it on purpose, they can sit down and reason. If we can't reason, well, that's where action happens. But it takes a few steps to fully push Sic into action territory.
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY

    “..You killed them all, Sic.”

    “You’re a monster.”

    Not a day goes by where those words don’t ring in his ears. Sic considers himself a monster. Or at least, that’s what others think. And if that’s what the others think, then it must be true, right? They call him names for good merit too, he did kill his own family after all..

    Not intentionally (at least what he thinks), but his entire family is gone due to his own existence. The day it happened, not a single difference to other days either. Sic was being blamed for something out of his control once again, berated by his entire family, and then shunned to his room for the remainder of the day. No lunch, no dinner.

    Sic’s role in the household was always the scapegoat. Ever since his birth he was blamed for things out of his control. His father was fired two days after he was born, his mother died to sickness when he was four, and soon his oldest brother was eventually murdered when Sic was nine after doing bad business with a rival gang. His mother and older brother, the only two that actually cared for Sic, dead.

    Of course, he still cherishes the memories of both of them. The night before his older brother died, he passed on a tiny book of rules that his mother made for him.

    “Stay formally dressed, people will respect you and you’ll gain confidence for yourself.”

    “Always ally yourself with those in power or know how to get what they want. Others might make you out to be villains, but don’t listen to them. You’re simply choosing the best option.”

    “Never care what others think of you. You have a path chosen for you in this world. If others judge you for it, their opinions are invalid to yours, ultimately.”

    Sic clutched this very book to hold on to the memories of his mother Cecilia and brother Henrias, even snug in his arms whenever being berated by the new family his father brought into his home. A stepmother, two stepsisters, and one stepbrother. All of them treated him as if he was dirt on the ground.

    “Hey! What happened to all the milk?”

    “I dunno, Sic probably drank it all.”

    “God DAMN it, Sic.”

    There were many arguments in this household, but if there’s one thing they could all agree on, everything was Sic’s fault. Stubbed toe? Sic should have warned you your toe was too close. Knocked over your glass? Sic should’ve moved it. Sic should’ve done this, Sic shouldn’t have done that, everything ties back to Sic.

    The only time Sic got a break was whenever he was allowed to go outside, as he didn’t have any games or television to watch. Finding cool-shaped rocks, playing with them, and eventually bringing them back inside to collect and keep. Rocks were his only friends now. His new family didn’t care for him at all.

    November of 2003. Sic was 11 at the time. The family planned to go out to eat but returned home after the restaurant they planned to go to had backed up reservations, and they weren’t able to go. As soon as they got home, his father started yelling at him instantaneously. Everyone else piled on too. Insults thrown around, the occasional "You're a disappointment", nobody stood up for him at all. He was alone in this cruel world, and even crueler household. With nobody to tell him it's not his fault.

    The tension built up inside Sic. His head began pounding, tears swelling up in his eyes. As the father started off to the kitchen, Sic opened his eyes. Eyes streaming tears, his pupils into elongated slits, and the rest of his eyes of a chartreuse hue. His vision went into black and white, yet he was able to see the heat radiating off of the family. Suddenly, everything went cold. No heat detected except his father in another room. He blinked, and in a second the infrared vision disappeared.

    ..Everything was blurry.

    ..His head was spinning, yet the other four didn’t move.

    They all turned to stone right before him. His father Harris entered in, mattress in both hands, yet dropped it as soon as he saw the sight of the four stoned people. His eyes moved from each statue individually, to Sic, who was now on his knees letting tears hit the hardwood floor.

    “What have you done, Sic..? Why are they..”

    Harris’ eyes welled with tears too, out of mourning for his lost family, and out of fear of what Sic had done to them.

    “You.. You killed them all, Sic.”

    “You’re a monster.”

    Sic blinked again and saw Harris’ heat speed away, Harris must’ve been trying to run away from the scene. Sic closed his eyes hard, holding his head. Almost as if he had received a concussion or migraine. Sic heard Harris’ heavy footsteps pounding against the floor as he ran, but then they stopped. There was silence.

    ..Eyes open again, he looked around. Harris’ heat had faded as well. He joined the sculptures in the room, right before he got to the door. More tears came falling from Sic’s eyes, and now he ran away from the house.

    Away from the house of which he was the scapegoat, the house of which they treated him like trash, as if he were a monster…

    “You’re a monster.”

    What if he.. Was one? He murdered them all because of his own mistakes.

    “You’re a monster.”

    He deserved the blame. Harris was right.

    “You’re a monster.”

    Sic was a monster. All throughout teenage years living homeless, the words rang in his ears.

    “You’re a monster.”

    Getting a job at a fast food restaurant, living alone in an apartment, the words rang in his ears.

    “You’re a monster.”

    Sic sat alone, under a bridge, clutching the book in his hands as if his late mother and brother were there protecting him. He realized.. He was breaking one of the rules.

    “Never care what others think of you. You have a path chosen for you in this world. If others judge you for it, their opinions are invalid to yours, ultimately.”

    That was one rule that he couldn’t help but break. His mental state had been wrecked ever since the death of Cecilia and Henrias, and he relied on the opinions of others to get through his life. Yet, it wasn’t too late for him to be unable to follow rules one and two.

    …Hello, Sable Serpents..
    RELATIONSHIPS
    N/A
 
  • ALBINO TIGERS
    BLANK
    LAZLO SHEPHERD
    LEGAL NAME
    Lazlo Daniel Shepherd
    AGE & BIRTH
    26 (October 28, 1995)
    ALIAS
    Blank
    GENDER
    Male
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    5'5" (165 cm) | xx lb (xx kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Veteran of the Albino Tigers
    ACTIVE SINCE
    June 2nd, 2018
    REPUTATION
    Lazy
    Home District
    West District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    Lazlo is, well, portly. He’s on the shorter side, and honestly, I don’t know if anyone’s been intimidated by him from appearances alone. He doesn’t look like a Veteran Tiger at all, but I don’t think he’s bothered at all about that.

    Oh, and I have to credit gxxberkit for drawing this portrait of him. Looks just like him.
    PERSONALITY
    ”You’re gonna have to speak to Lazlo ‘bout it.”
    ”Ughhhh I don’t wanna talk to Lazlo.”
    ”Yeah well that’s too bad.”

    Lazlo's personality...

    Lazlo’s annoying. He likes to sit in his office all day - does he even have much work to do there? He likes a regular schedule. Lazlo visits the same corner store every morning for the newspapers, a coffee, and a croissant. He’s well-acquainted with the man who owns the shop and pays him a handsome tip to ensure things are ready for him as he passes by. He still leaves time for a quick chat regardless. How’s the kid, how’s the wife? Same old, same old. That’s how Lazlo likes it.

    (“He’s annoying?”)

    Right, right, yeah, he’s annoying. Real smug and all. He likes to know more than anyone but hates when people know less than he does. I friended him on Facebook, and it was a mistake because all he does is send me requests to play Words With Friends. He added an S to my word to get extra points from it, and I told him I ain’t playing with him anymore after that. One time we were on a mission and he was lagging behind, said he was dealing with someone over the phone. All he was doing was playing Polygon Sprint, but when I called him out he claims he’s never heard of that game in his life. I don’t know what the fuck he does all day but he still manages to get all his work done.

    Lazy ass.

    Guess he ain't all that bad. We have some interesting conversations. He has a sense of humour, which ain't all too common over here. For my birthday last year, he offered to pay for "the finest women in the East District" to come to my party. I guess I'd rather work with him than some of the other freaks in the gang.
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY
    October 28th 1995: Lazlo Daniel Shepherd was born in West District to a middle class family. His parents and siblings are all NPs, and lived a humble life compared to the ultra-wealthy in their district.

    Childhood: Lazlo was a pretty nerdy kid. He liked to read books, play video games, and not engage in the roughhousing his siblings enjoyed. It took until he was 11 to work out his potential. He knew he was a HP, the strength was hard to ignore, but he had always hoped something really cool would show up.

    It was way past his bedtime, but Lazlo was watching tv downstairs while everyone slept. Of course, his ma was not sleeping, and the sound of her footsteps was truly frightening. The panic of being caught was enough for Lazlo to accidentally activate his potential, transforming into the blank slate of a person before his mother’s eyes.

    “LAZLO DANIEL WHAT THE HECK DO YOU THINK YOU’RE DOING.”

    She wasn’t the least bit impressed at the time, but the discovery of his potential prompted a celebration. All his extended family came over, and for once, Lazlo felt important.

    He soon found out that he could turn others with his potential, and started charging his siblings and friends for the privilege. Until their school shut that down, of course.

    Adulthood: Lazlo escaped his teen years without incident. He didn’t use his potential, but it hadn’t been forgotten. He was taking a year out of education while he worked out his future, and an old classmate approached him to talk business.

    One thing led to another, and he was lending his potential to the Albino Tigers. A few more things led to a few other things, and presently, he’s a respected Veteran. Lazlo has just returned from a “business assignment” on the other side of Amestria. He’s pretty comfortable where he is now, but always keeping one eye open for any developments.
    RELATIONSHIPS
    TBA
 
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  • SABLE SERPENTS
    PB&J TIME
    MELODY OF MALADIES
    LEGAL NAME
    Melody Tucker
    AGE & BIRTH
    21 (November 15th, 2001)
    ALIAS
    Jam...
    GENDER
    Female
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    6'0" (183 cm) | 204 lbs (93 kgs)
    GANG & RANK
    Rookie of the Sable Serpents
    ACTIVE SINCE
    November 21, 2021
    REPUTATION
    she is like mother to me
    Home District
    North District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    Don’t be fooled by your preemptive wit—Melody really is just made of jam. Her skin is the consistency of jello, but secretes… Jam. Literally strawberry jam. Makes good sustenance!

    Her biology is relatively normal, otherwise. Her eyes are the same reddish-pink as her body, but distinct from everything else. Despite being made of jam and jello, Melody is very partial to fashion. She likes long dresses and aprons that don’t get instantly ruined by her potential.
    PERSONALITY
    Melody is kind without purpose. In a world as cruel as hers, she has every reason—nay, she has every right to be hardened and cruel. But much like her body, her heart is soft. The only thing stronger than her kindness is her iron devotion to her family. She has never wanted for anything more than a family to call her own, a place to belong.
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY
    December 23, 2001 - The Tuckers clearly did not need another baby. Despite this, Queenie got pregnant with another child. They didn’t need another baby birthed, and they certainly didn’t have the capacity to adopt. Which is why they didn’t adopt Melody—they merely tolerated the presence of the blob of pink that had wandered into the apartment one day. Her blob-like form didn’t concern anyone, with the one-year-old Teddie now present in the family tree. So she was allowed to stick around.

    Maybe they would have been more concerned if she was taking up their resources. She was quite the contrary—she ate vermin and weeds whole, and secreted sweet jam from her skin. After the incident where baby Teddie tried to bite her arm off, the Tuckers learned that keeping Melody around could keep them fed.

    2006-2013 - Melody was the ‘black sheep’ (or pink sheep, if you’d like to be literal) of the Tucker family. While cruelty and selfish intentions surrounded her, she was anything but. She wore her heart on her sleeves. She was tender and gentle to everyone and everything. And she was not treated kindly, at least not by her older siblings and parents. Since her potential held no offensive benefits, it was easy to ridicule her. She wouldn’t dream of leaving her family, and she wouldn’t dream of acting upset in fear of being kicked out. She found camaraderie with her tar-like sibling, but she could never relate to his destructive tendencies. But she loved her family all the same. So she kept her brave face and hoped that someday, she’d be included.

    When her parents died, she mourned them. Mourned as well as she knew—as approximately as she could for cruel guardians who only used her for her potential. She laid dandelion weeds in bouquets, and laid them outside on the dirt. Maybe, in an attempt to wrestle with the fact that now, she would never have parents who loved her.

    The rest of the Tuckers slowly became heavily involved in their neighborhood gang—the Tucker gang. Despite her adamant wishes to be included, her older siblings refused to let her join. She was placid, noticeable, and had no clue what a gang even was. Pacifists had no place in a gang like theirs.

    Again, despite them, Melody found her own ways to contribute. She took up the role of mother that had never been there—she mended their clothes, she scrubbed the walls clean of tar and blood, and she put her blood, sweat, and tears into their meals. Peanut butter and strawberry jam sandwiches were a favorite of the gang.

    During the fair summer in the dead of night, when Melody was cleaning up, a teenage boy broke in through the kitchen window and started scrounging for food. Melody, as terrified as she was, politely asked him what he was doing. Grinning as he saw the opportunity to use her kindness, he told her he was starving. As predicted, Melody fixed him something to eat. Angúo started coming by every day, slowly getting into the groove of gang activity while being fed.

    As time passed, Melody allowed herself to become infatuated with him. He was the first person to appreciate her efforts, after all. After three years of her awkward flirting, Angúo accepted her as his girlfriend.

    2014-2018 - That day, the sky was blindingly blue. The air was cool, but the sun beat down with its warmth. It is still Melody’s least favorite weather for a reason.

    When the Sable Serpents came knocking, Melody was shoved into another room. They couldn’t risk showing them such a soft member of the family, for fear her life would be extorted. But she heard it—merge with them or suffer the consequences.

    Her older siblings merged—her younger siblings did not want to. And this put Melody in a rough spot. She had always been accepted and loved by her younger siblings, but she craved the acceptance of her older ones. It didn’t help that her boyfriend was eager to switch sides, either.

    The day the Tucker gang was destroyed, Melody had come to her decision. She’d stick with her younger siblings. She figured that they needed her more, and she’d do better as the small fish in a small pond. She hadn’t considered how far Serpents were willing to go to ensure their own longevity.

    She wasn’t there when their old house burned, but she saw the aftermath. After a few minutes, she couldn’t bear the smell anymore. Melody trudged to Angúo’s house, finally letting go of the family she never had.

    Things started off unstable. Angúo wanted Melody to be a part of the Sable Serpents, but she refused to join. It was the crux of his constant fits of drugged anger. Once Melody and Angúo had their daughter, life became far more simple. Angúo dealt with gang activities while Melody stayed at home and watched over little Cassidy.

    November 21, 2021 - Melody had hard feelings for all but one of her siblings—Teddie. Despite being the one who made the attack, her fondness for him twisted the truth. She saw him a victim of selfish serpents, who tricked him into turning on the family. She thought poorly of serpents for a long while—that is, until Teddie came knocking at her door again.

    She welcomed him with open arms. She was eager to catch up with her favorite sibling. As they talked, she learned of his budding family. All of the sudden, Melody felt a lurch towards something. The hope she had shoved aside for years could get through a crack in the concrete despair. A family.

    She wanted to be close to her brother again, but there was only one way she could do that. So on that day, Melody declared herself a serpent.

    Present - Melody operates in the serpents like she did in the Tucker gang—invisible foundation. If they want to experiment on her potential, she’s up for it. If they need her to disguise contraband, she’s on it. Whatever is necessary to protect who she loves.
    RELATIONSHIPS
    Teddie - Her favorite older brother. Despite not being related, they share a similar potential. Idolizes him to the point of dismissing his cruelty entirely.

    Eliza - Melody is fond of Eliza, as someone who Teddie loves. They don’t have anything in common, but she is warm to her nonetheless.

    Carlisle - Melody adores her niece, and regrets missing the first year of her life. She would love for Cassidy and Carlisle to play together more.

    Angúo - Her beloved husband. Despite his violent and sociopathic tendencies, she loves him dearly.

    Cassidy - Melody’s precious daughter. Subconsciously, Melody knows that her daughter takes after her father in personality. Despite everything, she still tries to teach her kindness and empathy while she’s still young. She spoils Cassidy whenever she can, with clothes sewn from scraps or teatime with strawberry scones.
 
  • SABLE SERPENTS
    KHYDNAH
    Give in to your fears. Find hope in your sin. Fear not the dark, my peers. And let the feast begin.
    LEGAL NAME
    Khydnah
    AGE & BIRTH
    Mid to late 80s (1940s)
    ALIAS

    Mother of Monsters;The Sworn Savior; Empress of the World; Our Lady of the Abyss; The Light That Was Darkness;She Who Waits in the Shadows;All-Mother;Master Matriarch;The Dragon's Harlot;God-Maker;Evil Embodied;Gray Wanderer;She Who Brings Gifts
    GENDER
    Female
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    8'0” | 300 lbs
    GANG & RANK
    Veteran of the Sable Serpents
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2021
    REPUTATION
    Build-A-Beast Workshop
    Home District
    North District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    A a tall, frail, wrinkly frame of a woman. Her skin being grayish in color, her finger nails are long and sharp, and her hair is unkept but she keeps it mostly hidden under her hood. The whites of Khydnah's eyes are pitch black and her irises are amber in color, though they appear duller in the day time. Khydnah is mostly seen drapped from head to toe in an foreign robe, while also being adorned in aged jewelry.
    PERSONALITY
    Khydnah is a cunning and well-spoken woman. She is a forward thinker, adapting to all her problems as if they were minor inconveniences or not even problems at all. She prefers to speak with firm sincerity with any and everyone. Khydnah doesn't display a whole lot of emotions and is nigh impossible to anger her, showing almost an infinite amount of patience. Despite her stand-offish nature, Khydnah can be rather sociable and understanding of her peers. She is willing to help anyone who is in need of her help, even if it's mostly transactional.
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY
    The nature of Khydnah's birth is a mystery. She was found by a tribe of gypsy zealots in a dried up marsh. At the senter of the marsh was two large, barren trees that took the shape of hands stretched up towards the sky. On the fingertips were smaller hands and from those figner tips where limbs that stretched out until they met at the center of both trees; and at the center, the limbs coiled around into a nest where Khydnah would be found sleeping in this strange nest

    Since being found, the tribe began to worship Khydnah as some prophesied savoir but despite this reverence, they had starved and tortured her most of her childhood, believing they were preparing her ascension to godhood. Despite the harsh conditions she endured, Khydnah's innate resilience allowed her to adapt and learn quickly. The gypsy zealots, in their twisted belief, inadvertently shaped her into a cunning survivor. As she grew older, Khydnah began to subtly manipulate her captors, turning their rituals into opportunities for her own gain. Despite the trials of her past, Khydnah harbored no resentment. Instead, she viewed her upbringing as a peculiar foundation that shaped her into the enigmatic woman she had become.

    One faithful day, she was brought to a cavern and stood before a black pool of sorts before descending into it. It was unknown how long she stayed submerged in the poll but upon arising, she had fully transformed into something new. Not long after her transformation, she was offered up into an arrangement to a chimeric monarch named Jorwynn to provide permanant asylum within his country. He accepted and Khydnah was now royalty, the two Potentials taking a great liking to each other as they waged war on their neighbors with Jorwyn's army and Khydnah's kin and brought forth a reign of terror like none have seen before. Unfortunately for them, it wouldn't last as they found themselves facing powerful adversaries who sought to put an end to their malevolent rule. The alliance between Jorwynn and Khydnah was formidable, but it couldn't withstand the combined forces of those who opposed their tyranny.

    As their dominion crumbled, Khydnah's cunning mind went into overdrive. She devised a plan to escape the impending doom, leveraging her potential to escape, while unknowingly leaving her husband behind to cover for her escape. The escape was swift, leaving behind the chaos they had sown. Now alone and being a wanted criminal, Khydnah remained in hiding for years as she traveled across the world while avoiding the general populace, until fate finally shined on her when she made it to a paradisial cesspool known as "New Oasis."
    RELATIONSHIPS




 
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  • AZURE DRAGONS
    WARD
    MIRZA KARTAL
    LEGAL NAME
    Mirza Kartal
    AGE & BIRTH
    25 (June 3, 1997)
    ALIAS
    Ward
    GENDER
    Male, he/him
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    ~5'9" (175 cm) | 165 lb (75 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Veteran of the Azure Dragons
    ACTIVE SINCE
    September 15, 2014
    REPUTATION
    A gentle lover? A ruthless pursuer of justice?
    Home District
    East District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    Mirza is of average height with a toned figure. He has tan skin and inviting yellow eyes. His hair is naturally brown but dyed red at its ends. His skin is unbelievably soft and free of blemishes, only interrupted by the large dragon tattoo that winds around his arm to his back.

    Faceclaim: Ookurikara - Touken Ranbu
    Art: @nkym96
    PERSONALITY
    There are two sides to Mirza.

    The side he displays openly is warm and welcoming. His voice is smooth like butter, uttering soft words of love and peace to all who will listen. He is rather popular, despite being soft-spoken, helped by his looks. When Mirza is displeased, cracks will begin to form. His words will have a threatening edge to them as he gently warns the offending party. His long stares might lose some of their mysterious charm.

    Only deep behind closed doors does he let his emotions reign. When faced with someone he truly hates, that being most people who go out of their way to oppose the values the Dragons uphold, he is sadistic. His voice may never waver from his usual soft tone, but his words are poisonous. He isn't afraid to go to extreme measures against his foes, even torturing them with his potential if that's what it takes. He has killed before, but only for the good of his community.

    As far as the community is aware, he's just the friendly neighbourhood Dragon. It's not like his public face is ingenuine, Mirza just prefers to keep his serious business separated.
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY
    June 3, 1997 - The Kartal family - who arrived in New Oasis from Telabiim years prior - welcomed the newest addition to the family, a son they named Mirza.

    1997-2010 - Mirza lived in a shadowy apartment in Lower Central. Growing up, he experienced the force of the four gangs as each tried to claim his district as theirs and grew resentful of the violence. He knew from word-of-mouth of the Tiger empire suffocating people in debt, of the people getting snatched up by the Serpents, of the executions the Phoenixes would perform for a quick buck. It was despicable, but Mirza was thankful to avoid any direct conflict.

    2010-2016 - In 2010, Mirza's family moved from Central to East District. Originally unwilling due to his aversion to the gang wars, he soon found that his new home was better than it seemed. Mirza spent a lot of time wandering the East District, getting to know everyone around him, and it wasn't long until he met members of the Azure Dragons. They didn't explicitly say they were Dragons, but they spoke of the peace and safety the District had, and how thankful they were to live there. It didn't take long for the inquisitive teen to become aware that there were forces working to maintain this "utopia", and his interest grew.

    He always knew he was special, being in possession of a great potential, but he never had use for it until now. He aspired to do what the Dragons did and utilized his strength to patrol at night. He kept to the streets surrounding his house most of the time, but growing bolder and more restless he dared to venture into the busier parts of the city. While the presence of a man with sharp horns atop his head was enough to deter some would-be criminals, there were a few he had to stop with violence, though he kept it to a minimum while he was a mere civilian.

    September 15, 2014 - After having stepped up his game in 2014, Mirza finally garnered enough positive attention from those above to be given an official invitation to the Azure Dragons. Yippee! Wahoo! His duties as a rookie were nothing special, but he was happy to serve the district so long as he was helping maintain the peace he craved so much.

    2016 - Mirza was an established rookie at this point, but patrols didn't pay bills now that he was an adult. Wanting to support his family, he found lucrative employment in a place he'd never stepped foot in until that point - the Eternal Night Palace. With his good looks, he became a popular choice for many customers.

    2019 - Now with 5 years of experience under his belt, Mirza had become a respected Dragon and a respected member of the East District, but his hunger grew. He had been patrolling the district all this time, but he knew there was more he could do for the gang, and from a demonstration of his potential against a tight-lipped enemy, he earned a change in roles. He still did public work around the district, but far more of his time was spent deep in the dragon's lair, aiding in "peaceful negotiations" with the most troublesome enemies of the Dragons. He worked under a mask of bone and donned a new alias, Ward.

    Present - Mirza continues to do his work for the Dragons and the Eternal Night Palace, keeping firm walls up to prevent his violent side from leaking into his public persona.
    RELATIONSHIPS
    TBA
 
  • AZURE DRAGONS
    Juggernaut
    Lloyd Sorvocah
    LEGAL NAME
    Lloyd Sorvocah
    AGE & BIRTH
    23 (April 05, 1999)
    ALIAS
    Juggernaut
    GENDER
    Male
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    6'3" (191 cm) | 191 lb (87.5 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Veteran of the Azure Dragons
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2019
    REPUTATION
    Unshakeable & Steadfast
    Home District
    East District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    If you are looking through the eyes of a stranger, you would likely see Lloyd as a tall young man with somewhat broad shoulders. His style of clothing would best be described as 'classy casual'. Though his facial expression may make him seem uncaring, or even slightly intimidating with his size, Lloyd is not one to shy away from lending a helping hand, and friendliness will often be returned with a kind smile. However, if you were to see him handling an altercation, you would see a man who is stern, yet controlled. You better pray he keeps this control.
    PERSONALITY
    Lloyd is a young man who likes peace of mind and body. It is something he will always want to return to, especially when a day has been really busy and/or hectic. In his free time, he despises rushing things. Things like cooking, cleaning, personal hygiene, and even menial chores he takes his time with. If that fills his day, he will be perfectly satisfied. What's more as that during those times he is lost in thought. Lloyd is quite a philosophical thinker, whether it be small or big subjects. Especially with simple tasks he can occupy his mind with such thoughts. You would think he is a completely peaceful and harmless man... almost.

    Lloyd, in the name of peace, can actually take quite the aggressive approach. Now, he doesn't immediatly burst like a red barrel in a CoD game, of course. That would be quite disorderly. However, if certain trouble-makers decide to not cooperate peacefully, you will soon find that Lloyd is a calm and peaceful person because he chooses to be. Especially criminals will know that his soft helping hands, can just as easily be iron fists of retribution. If a situation requires it (objectively or subjectively), Lloyd will use the necessary force to take control of situation to make sure there are no further 'disturbances'. He holds self-control as an important virtue, especially to himself. But even he can be pushed beyond his limits.
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY
    Lloyd grew up in the east district of New Oasis with both his parents, and as an only child. From a young age, Lloyd has been interested in the news of New Oasis, wanting to know what goes on in the place he lives in. However, growing up in the east district, where things are portrait as peaceful compared to the other districts, he has grown to despise the other districts. Mainly the gang activity that cause those news headlines to appear is what made him have a growing resentment towards the other districts. The other side of that coin is that he has a high appreciation for the district he lives in, and the order that is being maintained. He is unbothered by some of the extreme measures employed to do so, as the end goal of peace is achieved, and therefor justified.

    As Lloyd was growing up, this mindset overall did not change. He still enjoys the sense of tranquality the east district has compared to the others. Though he did get a milder opinion on the Scarlet Phoenix gang, he still very much despises the Albino Tigers (Sorry, Tiger. You're still cool, though), and the Sable Serpents. Even in school when people were talking about the news, or anything about the gangs really, Lloyd would be very vocal about his hatred towards the gangs, except the Azure Dragons. He sort of ended up becoming that kid in school because of it, though he didn't really mind. When he got into his teens, his virtue did get a bit shaken when he learned of the Azure Dragons' pleasure district. To Lloyd, it seems out of place when it comes to maintaining order, a place where a lot of disorder can take place behind closed doors while people are most vulnerable. It was then that his mind really started to open up on critique to the Azure Dragons. Especially since, to him, the chasing of pleasure is something that resembles the Sable Serpents with their narcotics. After a while, though, he has come to accept that indulging in physical pleasures is still better than anything the Sable Serpents cook up. And if it helps prevent crimes or disorderly conduct, then who is he to complain about the way of 'stress relief'.

    Skipping forward to his early adulthood, Lloyd actually ended up working at one of the "establishments" in the pleasure district. It was good pay, and most of the people were nicer than he expected. Aside from the occasional trouble-maker, of course. Lloyd had one of the most unpopular jobs there, which was clean-up. He had it for a while, until at one point there was an altercation with a customer who had not really been following the rules and then was unwilling to pay for services rendered. Lloyd stepped in quickly when he caught wind of it, and with some "coercion" made sure the person paid their dues, before the customer was banned. This was also one of the few times he showed himself being an HP in public up until that point. Since then, Lloyd has been a semi flex bouncer at the establishment. It wasn't too long after this, that Lloyd received a letter with the Azure Dragons' seal.
    RELATIONSHIPS
    Jackson Reese Alessi: The first person, inside the Azure Dragons and out, who Lloyd considers his close friend. While initially having met for a sparring match, organised by someone in the Dragons, Jackson's personality and persistence made Lloyd lower his walls and allow for some companionship for a change. Which was surprisingly pleasant, and Lloyd wishes to maintain this for as long as possible.

    Yona Kowloong: A rookie of the Azure Dragons who Lloyd was tasked to sort of 'train' by taking her on her first official mission, together with his friend Jackson. While her initial demeanor was awkward to him, he would soon find it was a front for some violent and extreme nature. The way she displayed herself - at least at the start of the mission - left a bad impression on Lloyd. A careless approach that could have harmed her allies and put herself in harms way, something he was trying to avoid, especially for a rookie. However, he recognises her potential to grow into a very effective and efficient member of the Azure Dragons.
 
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  • POLICE
    RELICT
    MIRKA EVENSEN
    LEGAL NAME
    Mirka Nicole Evensen
    AGE & BIRTH
    47 (October 19th, 1976)
    ALIAS
    Relict
    GENDER
    Female
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    6'0 (182.88 cm) | 212 lbs (96.1 kg)
    AFFILIATION
    Lieutenant of the NOPD
    ACTIVE SINCE
    1995
    REPUTATION
    The end of an era.
    Home District
    West District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    A memory of time long since past that refuses to disappear, a dog that had long since lost its bark. A monster who once struck fear into the heart of criminals within her prime years has become all but lost in the flow of time. The tales of her past exploits have lost their luster among the unchanging volatility of crime and punishment, and now what stands is not the terrifying force of nature that once roamed the streets. She has gotten old, her eating habits and the birth of two children have caught up to her, the best years have left her by, and she has left her smile in the past with her previous history as a bomb that destroyed all shells. Scars of history stain her face just as the marks of honor adorn her body and arms. Eyes that have witnessed the changing times look towards the future, a warmth and serenity in them that looks towards those who could come and shape it, while a vacant damnation at those who act as roadblocks within the shifting world. A woman dominated with a desire to bring upon the new era with the step of the right direction, a determination to bring the change that she and her colleagues failed to establish, leaving the people who came after them to clean up her mess. She will change it all, the system, the people, the land itself. She will carve out their future, just as big a piece as she would a Thanksgiving ham.

    It’s what he would have wanted.
    PERSONALITY
    I miss the old Mirka, loved to smile Mirka, proud to be Mirka, I hate the new Mirka, always cold Mirka, the quick to frown Mirka, the real quiet Mirka, super blunt Mirka.

    They used to love Mirka. The woman who would bring heart into the department whenever she stepped in. Always smiling, happy, excited to help, proud of her job and her position. She supported all her peers, she saw the best in everyone. Her hatred of crime was only balanced by the positivity she held towards her fellow members of the force. No one was surprised when it all changed. What they believed would be a temporary moment of grief blossomed into a cage of wrath, a fly trap that would never open its jaws. No more were there greetings, the bringing of gifts and snacks of a jovial woman living her best life. Instead she sat in that office, she scrounged through papers, dug through files. She kept her head in the books, until she finally found her leads. She would leave, and she would return in blood. A warpath did not have time for smiles, or laughter. She neglected herself, and the neglected self forgot everything that mattered, except retribution. She saw herself above it all, or so far below she could never reach it again. A cop who quickly transformed to a representation of terror against criminals, her influence and infamy rose, bubbled.

    Then, it popped. At the “peak” of her career, she was gone. She had snuffed the embers, and so went the flame. She was left to wander the dark. The bright lights of New Oasis no longer suited her. A woman who seemed well-rooted chose to uproot herself abruptly.

    One could only wonder how those years away had changed her. Had she returned to who she used to be? A woman clung to the memories of the past while they stuck into her flesh like thorns?

    Was her mind as relict as her body?
    RELATIONSHIPS
    Zac Evensen: Mirka's former husband, the love of her life and the father of her kid, along with being the little brother of Arvid Evensen and uncle of Eric Evensen. She misses him dearly.
    Eric Evensen: Her darling little nephew, she still thinks fondly back to watching him grow up. Long before she even thought of having her own kids she was taking care of baby Eric, and as he went on the path of becoming an officer she supported him every step of the way, up until her departure.
    Maverick & Maddox Evensen: Mirka's identical twin boys, the only clear distinction between them both is that Maddox wears glasses. They both inherited their father's eyebrows while getting their mother's purple hair. Still currently living in Jisesong, they're finishing up high school with plans of their own.

    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY ⬇
    Just another story. A daughter of two cops, a teenager when her parents were killed trying to protect civilians in a minor schism of the ongoing gang war. She had no interest in following their footsteps until then, but her hatred for gangs fueled her to pursue law. Academy found her soon after she finished high school, juggling college and attempting to become an officer. At 19, she could finally consider herself within the arm of the law. She was nothing but a part-time rookie, having to focus on her school, but that didn’t keep her from coming into the scene like a bat out of hell. Overzealous and feisty, she wanted to do everything in her power to snuff out crime, always with a mean look on her face, as she was frustrated with no one giving her a chance, the old, washed-up vets who refused to let the new blood prove themselves, that’s what she thought.

    “Just relax for a sec. Keep frownin’ like that, and you’ll have wrinkles at 25.”

    An annoying voice spoke to her, leaning over her cubicle to look down at her with a neutral frown as she worked at her computer. She looked up to scowl at him, those purple eyes filled with hunger and resentment.

    Zac Evensen.

    She hated his eyebrows.

    He was only a bit older than her, a few years; they were both rookies, yet he always talked like he knew more than her just because he had a year or two more under his belt. She didn’t like him; she wanted to avoid him at all costs.

    So, of course, they found themselves sharing the same police car, stuck on the same mission. He turned down all his attempts to try and be amicable with her. She didn’t want to eat anything he offered; she didn’t want to talk about shows or the news. She wanted this job to be over.

    However, as much as he joked, he didn’t hesitate to run out of the car when their perp showed up. He threw himself into danger. Even knowing their target was an HP, he had no fear. With no powers to call his own, he pursued, even as they got split up.

    When she finally caught up, Zac was covered in cuts and bruises, his expression draped in blood. A cigarette hanging from his mouth. Knee placed on the back, handcuffs tied around the suspect’s wrists, Zac had made his arrest.

    He looked towards her with a raise of a brow.

    “What took ya so long?” He said with a smirk.

    For the first time since she started, she smiled as an officer. The more she stuck with Zac, the more her perspective changed. She wasn’t carrying the will of her parents out of hatred but out of respect. Her distaste of gangs was not just for her own personal grief but for the widespread problems they caused. Her mindset expanded, and she came into her own. A proud officer, one happy to be able to stand with many others who were willing to put their lives on the line.

    One day, she came into the office with a box of cookies and shared them. Another day, she walked in with Zac beside her shoulder to shoulder. Another day, she strolled in with a bright smile and an even brighter ring on her finger. Another day, she stepped in with her hand clasped around her growing belly.

    She had twins, a pair of boys. Maverick & Maddox Evensen. She had never been so happy. The life of being an officer was hard, but the life of being a mother and a wife was harder. She wouldn’t trade it for the world.

    She was at home, dealing with the two boys who had just begun to walk, running all around the house. She was tired, but she was fulfilled, even as her short hair was a mess and stains coated her apron.

    A phone call rang through the peaceful home.

    She picked it up. She clutched it, and as the voice spoke on the other end, she only tightened her grip until it shattered into pieces.

    Mirka walked into the rain in her police outfit; her boots stepped into a puddle. A black tarp glossed with moisture, a trail of blood leaking from its corners.

    She peeled it back just to confirm.

    She was a wife no longer. New Oasis had lost its best detective.

    She didn’t cry, she didn’t scream. She didn’t question why.

    She asked how. Everyone who could give her answers became her victim. She stared daggers into the useless detectives; she gripped the throats of people in the wrong place at the wrong time. When she didn’t find answers in the streets, she looked for them in the office. She toiled, she dug. Her face caked in dirt from how deep she went, she walked into the office and out with not many words unless it was asking for someone’s assistance with the case.

    The world outside wasn’t safe from her. She pushed through everything in her way: criminals captured and tossed into cells with their bodies covered in wounds that’d never heal, gang members found themselves in handcuffs, barely holding onto their consciousness. No one who faced her would ever be able to forget who she was, a constant reminder on their body, but despite the fights forever marking her, she wouldn’t bother remembering to whom it was addressed.

    She acted recklessly indignant; everything was secondary to her search for the answer.

    Until she finally found it. By herself, she stormed with no permit and no explanation; no one knew she was coming, not even her own officers. A gang hideout, she took no prisoners until she finally met the one who took everything from her. The one responsible who plucked Zac’s wings as he got too close to the sun.

    And without mercy, she crushed him. A battle where she received the only mark she would never forget. She lost one eye, but in return, he lost much more. It had stopped being a display of justice early on; it became anything but. They would never recover, even if the law found them not guilty.

    It was after this that her infamy reached its pinnacle. A woman's scorn whispered through the streets. She had taken back what she was own, a monster who you either agree or disagree with. She was met with just as much praise as she was scorned for her actions.

    She had gotten what she wanted, but now she was left with nothing. She stood, she sat, she thought, for a long while. She was at the height of her career. There’s no telling what she could reach. She could find satisfaction in being an officer.

    Yet, that idea felt too hollow. It wasn’t what she wanted. What she wanted was for her sons to have a father. For them to be happy and safe. She wanted a better world for them both.

    She wouldn’t get that in New Oasis.

    In 2015, her sons weren’t even 11 when she uprooted their lives and hers and left. She wanted to go somewhere peaceful, a different place, where her kids could grow and she could rediscover what her life was meant to be.

    Jiseong, a land to the far east, through the guise of a cultural exchange, she transferred to one of their police departments. She was curious to see how they worked, but ultimately, she wanted to escape from it all. Yet, as she stayed, her curiosity turned to a vested interest. The land was so different. Everything was peaceful; crime was subdued and kept minor, and the police were respected and withheld that respect within their own doctrine and actions. They used technology she had never seen before, stuff she knew would make a change if somehow they could be brought to New Oasis.

    The more time she spent there, the more she understood the flaws back at home. The reason why, no matter how hard they tried, they couldn’t do anything about the gangs was that it always felt like they were losing a battle. The system was flawed; the way they held themselves couldn’t work in their era.

    If future generations wanted any hope of peace, changes needed to be made. The bottom line had to be altered and then upheld. She was foolish; she thought acting against the system needed to be done at certain times when the answer this whole time was to change the system itself.

    New technology, stricter procedures, a dogma of honor. Not just upholding peace but commanding harmony. The gangs would not be destroyed in a war, but a slow and meticulous carving off their trunks until they eventually toppled over. This couldn’t be done by just one person; society had to change.

    Something like that wasn’t something any cop could do by just going against conventions. It would be a return they wouldn’t see until years from now.

    But, she found hope in the future.

    A girl, just as feisty as she was back when she started. She saw herself in her so much she couldn’t help but grow attached. It was people like her who could one day bring about the change that needed to be seen.

    The news of an earthquake at her home was the final push she needed to return home, to set forth the steps that could make the house a home, even if it meant her way or the highway.

    Before she left, there was one thing she wanted to take with her, though. A rookie that had caught her eye this whole time, her experience and personality could be the seed that could be planted to begin changing New Oasis for the better.

    Maverick & Maddox were now 17, and she wouldn’t dare force them to uproot their lives again. She would leave them there, where they could live peacefully, even if it hurt them more than she’d like to believe.

    With Seo-Ah at her side, she boarded a plane home to old friends, enemies, and forgotten family.

 
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  • SABLE SERPENTS
    DISPOSAL SPECIALIST
    THE POPE
    LEGAL NAME
    Unknown
    AGE & BIRTH
    Unknown. The suit dates back to the 18th century.
    ALIAS
    THE POPE
    GENDER
    None
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    6'5" (195 cm) | 115 lb (52 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Rookie of the Sable Serpents
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2022
    REPUTATION
    WE ARE THE POPE
    Home District
    North District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    WE ARE THE POPE.

    YOU WILL WITNESS OUR VESSEL.

    YOU WILL FEEL OUR VOICE.

    WE WILL SAVE YOU.

    WE WILL SAVE THEM ALL.
    PERSONALITY
    The Pope only responds to instructions given to it by a Sable Serpent. If it does not have an instruction then it simply does nothing.

    It often speaks when it follows orders, jubilantly announcing its actions as though it is performing some great righteous work.

    It will always take the most direct path to its objective.

    If it is allowed to work in the presence of NPs it will become more talkative. However its voice is too deep, too rich, too thorough for NPs to safely handle.
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY

    You awake into darkness. You try to move but realize you can not. You are bound to a chair. Ice races through your veins as you try to stand up, but you can not. You try to scream but your voice gets caught on the gag stuffed inside your mouth. You do not remember how you got here.

    A muted blue light leaks into the dank room from between the bars of a grate affixed to the ceiling. Just as your eyes adjust to the point you can begin making out abstract shapes silently shifting around you a door in front of you bursts open.

    A brilliant light cascades through the door, relentlessly searing your eyes and revealing you in all of your captive inglory. The merciless pearlescent beam of light is only sundered by a towering sillouhette. "FEAR NOT CHILD OF MAN, FOR WE ARE THE POPE." Thunder? No. The sound currently reverberating through your bones is most certainly a voice. It hurts.

    The door closes behind the figure. You look again, straining your eyes intensely as once again you begin to make out shapes. It steps forward. Before you stands a diving suit of archaic design, an alien oddity in a modern world.

    "WE SHALL LIBERATE YOU." Its voice rips through you like whalesong and you wince in agony, your eardrums becoming eviscerated by a voice that was never meant to be heard by human ears.

    The blue hue of the room becomes purple. The blood vessels in your eyes must have burst. Your heart is beating out of your chest and it hurts. Everything hurts.

    Then the diving suit reaches forward and places its palms down over your own chairbound hands. From its hands emerge a formless darkness and with their emergence comes pain. It is like nothing you have ever felt, it's as though a million ants were eating their way through you, as though fire had gained the capacity to hold malice, as though you were not even human but rather clay to be moulded into a torturous shape by this dark sculptor, designed to be suffering and nothing else.

    "LIBERATION!" By the time the word is spoken the swelling surf of shadows has washed over you and receded. You are no longer in pain. You are no longer anything. A pristine skeleton remains where you once were. It is dry to the touch and has no odour.

    The diving suit exclaims again, the unforgiving richness of it's voice rattling the skeleton to dust.

    "ANOTHER SOUL CLEANSED. WE ARE THE POPE!"

    The diving suit turns around and the empty chair where you sat bares witness to a coiled dark serpent emblazoned on the suit's backplate before the door opens again and the suit disappears within an ocean of stark glorious light.
    RELATIONSHIPS
    WE ARE THE POPE
 
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  • AZURE DRAGONS
    "Songbird"
    Yona Kowloong
    LEGAL NAME
    Yona Kowloong
    AGE & BIRTH
    21 (October 1, 2000)
    ALIAS
    Songbird, Rook
    GENDER
    Female
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    5'4" (164 cm) | 124 lb (56 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Rookie of the Azure Dragons
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2022
    REPUTATION
    An "Enforcer" carrying experience from family business and tea connoisseur. Operates like a rook, either a frontal assault or a sweeping flank.
    Home District
    East District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION

    Yona may seem like a delicate privileged daughter from abroad, pampered and ignorant of the world's dirt, but others who know her would say otherwise. As it is in her family business, she's dealt with such situations for a very long time that she's more or less well-seasoned in that area. Nonetheless, it does not chip away at her generally elegant appearance.

    PERSONALITY
    Despite experiencing the underworld for quite some time, she's still able to have room for kindness in her heart, whether for better or worse. Even so, she has a rather nonchalant attitude and at the same time blunt demeanor. Sometimes, she has a way with words and other times she just isn't her usual self; Like a disassociated mask to protect herself.
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY

    Hailing from Xia, Yona was born to a rather wealthy family affiliated with groups with rather shady reputations. It wasn't long until she was exposed to such themes at the mere age of six years old and started participation around fourteen years old. While given a great education, she's had her fair share of fights throughout her school years more notably during junior high. Some kids... Just did not like her. Now they definitely don't like her after she's shown them what she can do with only herself and a pencil. A fucking pencil. During high school she gained reputation as those kids who shouldn't be trifled with, even though she never intended to get such a seat of respect from her peers. She more liked the amount of respect she got from her singing voice. Instead, she got reputation with the sword after joining a martial arts club and her ability to call upon the elements of wind, water and ice. Note that she also had taken martial arts lessons from her grandfather ever since childhood.

    Even in school, she eventually could not escape the business her family affiliated themselves to. Most of the time, they smuggled people out of the country at their request due to inescapable difficulties at home. Other times, they enjoyed the higher class of life. Boutiques with unique fashion while also keeping to the latest trends, cafes with the finest teas along with boba drinks and a vast array of contract a client requests them to do what they can't do themselves. That mostly meant to attack other underworld affiliated individuals who just seemed to step out of line or the client just needed some sense of closure.

    While Yona wasn't much on the 'Hit Contract' band wagon, she sometimes would hitch a ride with it from time to time. Perhaps a sense of justice and out of the kindness of her heart, she would deliver flawlessly. One of her contracts was to bring in the man who took advantage of the client and killed their family simply for not paying her debt that seemed to increase for no reason at all. Upon capturing the man, she secluded him in a parking garage at night that was used for one of the most popular malls in the city. Her capture methods were probably just alluring him with her charm and then intoxicating him with lots and lots of alcohol. However, two black vans pulled up and it was none other than associates in the same group as her. One of the vans were just all the personnel present to seem intimidating at first but the other van contained some playing chips in the form of a woman and a child.

    "What are you doing?! Leave my wife and son out of this, I was ordered to do it!!"

    "Orders are orders. I agree. However, would you agree that you were ordered to... How should I say this... inserting yourself into another woman?"

    "Speechless already? We were just getting started."

    "Let me go ahead and recreate the events that the client told me."


    In a swift and graceful movement, like a dance with her sword, she slit the boy's neck and allowed for blood to pour out, his screams being garbled by the fountain and pooling of blood. "You shot her son in the neck and left him to bleed out..." Another movement she used her sword to mercilessly stab holes into the woman's body and kicked her to the ground, her cries for her son turned to her own painful wailing echoing throughout the parking garage as the man pleaded her to stop but she continued her theatrics. "Shot the husband multiple times but in non-vital areas to leave him alive-" One more graceful twirl and she stood in front of him. "Now the client." Her words made the man's soul sink to the deepest part left in him in attempt to run from her. But no matter. She took her sword and traced the tip from his neck down to his abdomen. "You penetrated her... Here." She said before pushing him down to the ground by forcing his head into the pavement before driving her sword slowly through his body, taking her time as she stared at him coldly as he expressed the same faces the client must have made during that time. Terror and horror as he screamed his lungs out but for no one to hear his plea, as the temperature around the group dropped sharply as an unnatural blizzard was starting to brew.

    By morning, the bodies were left behind lifeless in their own frozen pools of blood in their own icy entombments, but the man's head was severed from the body and no where to be found. A professional hit leaving no finger prints making it near impossible for the police to track. Even surveillance cameras lacked the footage to capture the events that took place or anyone come to and from the area. At only the age of nineteen she was regarded as a top dog in the organization. However, she gave it up as she wanted to live out on her own just as her parents wanted. They didn't want her to get too caught up in the organization's plays. With her leaders' approval, she moved to New Oasis while her parents stayed behind to manage their tea shop.

    In this new place, she's made quite a living for herself. Even though she was away from home, she was still given a business opportunity. One of the leaders who retired had also moved to New Oasis long ago and made a place for herself in the form of a restaurant: Bo's Eatery. She worked as a waitress there and somewhat of its own security detail and was paid well, even though she didn't need it. The place wasn't affiliated with any of the city's gangs either so they were quite free for themselves. She made good money so it was enough to buy herself an a small house.

    Life seemed to go as usual for awhile but there's always something that just kicks you back in its plans. On her way home, she noticed some street thugs harassing a fairly attractive woman. Of course, it was no business to her but... Seeing it reminds her of a certain client. She decided to take matters into her own hands and beat them into icy frozen pulps, even with scaring them off using her elemental powers to create a dragon out of water and ice. After escorting her to at least a safe distance where she would be fine to walk home by herself, she returned to her own dwelling and turned in for the night. Little did she know she came at the rescue of an associate of a brothel own by the Azure Dragons and that she just beat up two Serpents without batting an eye.

    Later on, she would feel like she was being watched at Bo's Eatery while at work but didn't think too highly of it. It wasn't until she received a letter from Madam Bo which had the Azure Dragon's sigil on it. "Madam Bo, what is this?" She asked. "An offer letter you shouldn't refuse if you wish to stay. At least they'll pay you more than I could." Was all she said. "...Guess grandpa was right. You can kick the rat out of the business, but not the business out of the rat." "Just remember to come visit when you have the chance and we can have some tea, hm?"
    RELATIONSHIPS
    Lloyd Sorvocah: "As the first official meeting I've had with a member of the Dragons, I think highly of him as a senior. While it is merely just a business and somewhat professional type of relationship, I do appreciate the comradery despite his initial distaste for how I act in the face of combat. I could sort of call him a hypocrite for doing the same in such a beastly manner. At least I consider myself to be the more graceful one between us. Nonetheless, he generally does have a good head on his shoulders. But... Should I dare say he seems to be... quite emotionally driven? Still not finished with this mission to have a good evaluation..."

    Jackson Reese Alessi: "I also think highly of him as a senior. A perceptive one at that and seems to keep a levelled head in intense situations. It's not wonder that him and Lloyd are usually working together, it balances out as a duo. Still not finished with this mission to have a good evaluation..."

 
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  • SABLE SERPENTS
    TAIPAN
    BASH HIRABAYASHI
    LEGAL NAME
    Bash Hirabayashi
    AGE & BIRTH
    21 (October 29, 2000)
    ALIAS
    Taipan
    GENDER
    Male
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    5'10" (177.8 cm) | 143lbs (64.8 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Queen of the Sable Serpents
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2016
    REPUTATION
    Loud and Aggressive member with violent tendencies and intimidating Potential
    Home District
    North District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    Bash stands at 5'10", weighing 143lbs with long, flowing black hair (dyed an ombre blonde by Celestine as of arc 3) and piercing amber eyes. He is of Japanese and Korean descent. His fashion style is very reminiscent of the District he grew up in, wearing a lot of dark, mute colors and baggy street clothes, most notably his gray biker jacket. He boasts abnormally sharp canines, which have intimidated many foes in the past.

    (Face Claim: Keisuke Baji from Tokyo Revengers)
    PERSONALITY
    Bash is an extremely arrogant and hot headed person. To match his impulsive, uncontrollable and violent nature, Bash lives to fight. He will fight anybody who challenges him, disrespects him or a member of his gang, or otherwise rubs him the wrong way. In fact, Bash is the type of person to attack a random person, no matter who they are, just because he wants to. Foul mouthed, ruthless and hardheaded, Bash is a golden mascot for the Sable Serpents, and he takes great pride in being a member.

    Despite appearing to be the average grunt, Bash is intelligent, but doesn't always make good use of his intelligence. He does have his moments where he is calm, or has something good to say to or about someone, but he usually keeps his behaved side to himself unless completely necessary. He is extremely hostile towards members of other gangs, often immediately trying to provoke a fight with them if he encounters one, unless he has a reason to work with them or not attack.

    - As of Arc 3, Bash is seemingly making attempts at bettering himself and maturing as a leader in his gang. He still has his impulsive moments, but he has been showing signs of genuinely growing as both a person and as the Queen of the Serpents.

    Likes:
    + Fighting
    + Food, most notably cheap things like Gyoza, Takoyaki, Onigiri, Mochi, and Chicken Katsu
    + Cats (Will never admit it)
    + Winning
    + Brawling
    + His Gang
    + His bike, a black Honda CB350, given to him by his uncle. His uncle was in the motorcycle accident with his father, and decided to quit, giving his bike to the younger Bash.


    Dislikes:
    - Losing
    - Being Bored
    - Unfair fights
    - Being told what to do
    - "Rich People Shit", including foods, clothing and activities
    - The other Gangs (Especially Tigers)

    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY
    As a child, Bash grew up in an abusive household alongside his Mother, His twin brother Mako, and his older sister Lia. At home, his father, the former leader of a ruthless biker gang alongside his uncle, beat them all whenever he pleased. Following a motorcycle accident, and an arrest for homicide that left him out of work, he fell into a depression, and drank his sorrows away to the point that his family no longer recognized him. One day, his older sister, Lia, ran away from home, promising to come back once she made enough money to move them out of there. This angered Bash's father, causing him to beat their mother half to death. Bash, who was sick of standing by idling while they all went through hell, attacked his father in an attempt to stop him, only for his father to burn the back of Bash's neck using his Potential (This is why Bash grows his hair out, to hide the burn mark. This is also why Bash is such a strong believer of fighting without Potentials.) Mako had to stop their father by killing him with his own Potential. The remaining family, consisting of Bash, Mako, and their mother, moved away, starting a new life.

    Now a member of the Sable Serpents, and a mechanic at his uncle's Auto Repair Shop, Bash rides around New Oasis, looking for ways to prove himself to the world by conquering it with violence.
    RELATIONSHIPS


    Mako Hirabayashi - Bash's non-identical twin brother. The two were extremely close when they were younger, and while they still look out for each other and would die for one another, Mako has recently become...distant. Whatever.

    Lia Hirabayashi - Bash's older sister. She had left the house when Bash and Mako were still young, with promises to return once she made enough money to support them. Now 20, Bash wonders if his sister was just escaping hell on her own. Nonetheless, he is still searching for her to this day-- although it isn't his top priority anymore.

    Jackson Alessi - Jackson and Bash were, at one time, best friends. Having known each other since childhood, the two were extremely close, until Bash's enrollment into the Serpents and the incident regarding Jackson's mother. Since then, their relationship has been tense. Bash is extremely conflicted on how to feel about his friend, given his extreme malice towards enemy gang members, but he wonders very often if he would be capable of attacking him in the same manner as another Dragon if the two met face to face again.

    Tri - The King of the Sable Serpents. Normally, Bash would look up to and revere the King, as they would be assumed to be one of, if not the strongest person in the Gang. However, thanks to Bash's history with Tri when he was still the Jack, he holds zero respect for him at all. To him, Tri is nothing more than a stupid, greasy old man. He'll still reluctantly follow orders, though. Most of them, at least.

    Caio "Snake" Coelho - The Queen of the Sable Serpents, and the one who chose Bash to be the Ace of the gang. Bash has always seen Snake as an older brother. He's one of the few people Bash can fully trust, and one of the even fewer people he'd do anything for. Since Snake's disappearance, Bash has been trying his best to hold himself up to the same standard as him. He hasn't had much success.

    Raphael Shaw - "Bitch." Bash doesn't like Raph. Not one bit. He can't find it in himself to trust his fellow Serpent, and hates being around him, always able to feel the pale man's eyes studying him whenever they're near each other. If anyone ever mistakes the two to be brothers, they will quickly regret it.

    Ruriko Ikeda - "She ain't half bad!" Bash and Ruriko are both frequent customers at the Catmosphere Kitty Café in the Central District. While Bash was initially a very quiet and recluse customer, meeting Ruriko and enjoying the feline presence alongside her has shaved off a large amount of the embarrassment that came with visiting the cafe. The two get along well, and share some more common traits aside from their love for cats-- mainly being their appetites. Bash has no idea that his feline-loving-friend is a Dragon, and she has no idea that he is the Ace of the Serpents. Ignorance is bliss.

    Kisara Mcdowell - "You dumb??? Kisara's my buddy!" To Bash, Kisara has always been like a weird older-yet-somehow-little sister. The two met in high school, and immediately clicked, although their friendship was cut short following Kisara's disappearance after her... school incident. Years later, she suddenly returned as a member of his gang, and now things are... well, they're different. While he feels being called "Senpai" now isn't necessary, Bash doesn't mind showing her the ropes and spending time with her when he can. Even if he finds her eccentric personality to be... frustrating at times, he genuinely cares for the girl. She's also one hell of a fighter, which is something he can definitely appreciate. He can't put his finger on it, but now that the horned girl has made her return, Bash feels funny around her. His heart beats faster than usual, and he seems to notice things about her that he never paid much mind to in the past. Stupid adulthood.

    As his Ace, Bash looks forward to strengthening the gang with his good friend.

    Celestine Renee Cadieux - Celeste joined Bash's "special attack squad" in 2017, shortly after she joined the Serpents. Because she agreed to join, Bash has become acquainted with her. Her sweet personality and protectiveness reminds him of his missing older sister, and he impulsively calls her "big sis" or "nee-san" on frequent occasions.

    Dante Hel-Punch - "Who the fuck is that??" He has no idea, but Bash and Dante are quite well-acquainted. Not too long ago, the two fought-- though Dante was hiding behind his "Lancer" alter ego. As for Lancer, Bash can't stand the guy. The silence, the annoying fighting style-- the running away. If Bash ever sees Lancer again, or, even worse, finds out that Dante is Lancer, a fight will break out very quickly.

    Charles Liam Hughes - "That MotherFUCKER!" Ah, Charlie. Some months prior to this current point in time, two individuals happened to be inside of a convenience store at the same time. The two happened to reach for the very last bag of a specific kind of chips, and all hell broke loose after that. Neither party got the chips, as they were destroyed in the scuffle, and the two were immediately banned from the store for the damages they caused. Bash now sees Charlie as his rival. Sure, having a little girl as a rival may not seem right on paper, but she was strong as hell and managed to hold her own against him! If Bash ever sees Charlie in public, he will drop whatever he's doing to attack him in an attempt to avenge the chips he never got to eat.

 
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  • SCARLET PHOENIXES
    DRAKEN
    VULKEN BECKMAN
    LEGAL NAME
    Vulken Beckman
    AGE & BIRTH
    29 (June 14, 1993)
    ALIAS
    Draken (Like dragon, but with a... you get it.)
    GENDER
    Male
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    6'1" (185.4 cm) | 200 lbs (90.7 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Veteran (Former Jack) of the Scarlet Phoenixes
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2007
    REPUTATION
    Very relaxed and nonchalant. The dumbest guy in the gang, but still very reliable. Will also flirt with anything that breathes.
    Home District
    South District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    Draken is an attractive young man standing at 6'1" and weighing 200 lbs, with medium-length crimson hair and fiery orange eyes. He has a well-built body, with hard muscles and a sturdy frame. Each of his ears have two piercings, and he has a black dragon tattoo on the nape of his neck.

    Vulken's style of dress is best described as a... more informal version of smart casual fashion. For tops, he normally goes for relatively slim-fitting and warm-colored plain t-shirts, sweaters, and the occasional polo or button-down shirt if he's feeling fancy. For pants, he almost exclusively wears slim-fitted black jeans. Black or white casual boots/sneakers are his typical choice for footwear.For outwear, Vulken prefers black fur-rimmed jackets or wool trench coats. He enjoys jewelry, but almost exclusively wears the golden star pendant his mother gave him when he was younger, and whatever watch he chooses for the day. Maybe a ring or two.

    - Following his Arc One skirmish with Shen Yue, Vulken now has a medium-length scar near the middle of his chest.
    PERSONALITY

    Appearing to be a shell of the notorious "Draken" that once roamed New Oasis, Vulken is now very laid back and nonchalant. He is super lazy, almost always seen slouching with his hands in his pockets, and speaks with a chill, tired tone, no matter who he is talking to. He has a surprisingly calm demeanor, often offering little to no reaction to even the most bizarre things. He boasts very bad manners-- putting his feet on tables and falling asleep in places where he shouldn't be, is impulsive to the point where he will touch almost anything that piques his interest, and speaks bluntly, saying things as they are at all times. Although he seems like a lazy idiot, Vulken is very kind and friendly to most people, always making jokes and helping out others in any way he can.

    Despite his calm attitude, it should be noted that Vulken has an extremely violent temper, and can switch from calm and collected to angry at a moments notice. While it is usually difficult to anger him, there are a few things that can flip his switch almost immediately, such as threatening or mocking his family, speaking about his deceased friend, or talking down on his gang. In terms of his attitude towards his gang, he only takes orders from the King, Queen, Ace, and Jack of the Scarlet Phoenixes. He is also indifferent towards members of other gangs, treating them as he would anybody else unless they try to attack him.
    Likes:
    + Sleeping
    + Jazz Music
    + Dogs
    + Boxing. His favorite Boxer of all time is Marvelous Marvin Hagler.
    + A good fight
    + Women. They're just a little more interesting than most guys, you know?
    + Money
    + Power
    + His Family

    Dislikes:
    - Coffee
    - Loud Children
    - Threats
    - Chocolate
    - Talking about his past
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY

    Vulken was born into the Beckman family, being the first and oldest of his five other siblings, to a welder mother and an ice skating father. Much like four of his younger siblings, Vulken developed a Potential, to his parents' dismay. Of course, they still loved him nonetheless. As his family grew in size--and he grew older--, Vulken realized that he was able to get away with more and more. It started off small; stealing candy, using his Potential to heat up his friend's food, and cursing, before it grew into something much worse. By the time he was in grade school, Vulken was fighting every student that rubbed him the wrong way--and winning. His use of his Potential on enemy kids after school coined him the nickname "Dragon", which eventually evolved into a play on his name: Draken.

    When he was around 8 years old, Vulken was sought out by Alev Barinov, a Board Member of the Scarlet Phoenixes who had heard about him and wanted to meet him. Still young and naïve at the time, Vulken attempted to fight Alev the very first time they met without hearing a word he had to say, only to be absolutely dominated by the much older man. Vulken continuously tried to settle the score over the course of the next few days, but eventually gave up, and listened to the man. He wanted to mentor him-- to help shape him into a man truly worthy of a title as menacing as "Dragon".

    Vulken, finally recognizing the man's strength, accepted, and Alev took him under his wing. On his first day of training, Vulken was surprised to see who else was there.

    It was Markus Weiss, one of Vulken's best friends since they met in grade school. The two considered themselves to be rivals, and they had their scraps here and there, but they were close, always having family dinners and the like. Now they'd be training together?

    The two had been known for their strength before, but after training with Alev, their skills were brought to greater heights. "King Cold" and "Draken" were capable of defeating adults twice their age by the time they were 10.

    It didn't take long for Vulken to seek a gang to join, and before he knew it, he was 14, and a Scarlet Phoenix. Markus had moved to the West, and word on the street was that he was a Tiger. The two had parted ways, but Vulken held no animosity against him. He could only hope Markus felt the same way.

    Of course, as time went by, the notorious "Draken" had mellowed out greatly, in order to continue to serve as a good older brother and role model to his siblings--more specifically his younger brother, who developed an ability similar to his. Things were great. His family was loving and healthy, his siblings were safe-- hell, he even had a girlfriend. Everything was fine, until an 18-year old Vulken and the subgroup of Phoenixes he hung out with ran into a suspicious group that challenged them to a fight. Pride took over. How dare these people come into his district and demand a fight? A brawl ensued, and one of Vulken's closest friends, Mika, was stabbed, lying dead on the ground as the fight continued. It was then that Vulken activated his Potential, and killed the man who took his friend's life.

    Luckily, he got away with the murder as there was too much going on to pin the deaths on him. Vulken was devastated. But there much, much more in store for him. A week later, Alev-- being the honest man that he was-- told him that he ordered the hit on Mika, as he was leaking false Phoenix information in an attempt to wipe out all four gangs by starting a huge war between them. In a fit of disbelief, shock, and rage, Vulken lashed out and killed Alev on the spot. It was Alev's birthday.

    Markus, now a full-fledged Tiger, decided to pay the old man a visit. He walked in and saw his childhood friend standing over the corpse of their mentor.

    Before a fight could break out-- before Markus could get any sliver of clarity on the situation, Vulken ran away. When news of Alev's death broke out, Vulken pinned the murder on Markus. What surprised him the most was when Markus gladly took the blame to boost himself higher in the Tigers' ranks. The rest is history.

    Now, Vulken seems a bit more... distant, and mysterious. If asked about those times--or mostly anything else regarding his past-- He'll often respond with a smile or a bizarre, unbelievable answer.​
    RELATIONSHIPS


    Boltius Beckman - Vulken's little bro. Vulken initially wasn't too happy about Boltius joining the Phoenixes. But, the dumbass proved himself in a fierce, dramatic battle of rock-paper-scissors, so he had no choice but to sponsor him and welcome him as a member of the gang. The two are extremely close-- despite their brotherly quarrels and clashes of heads-- and Vulken is (hopefully) the first person to run to the rescue if his sibling ever found himself in dangerous trouble.

    Lyric Crianza - The King of the Scarlet Phoenixes, and the woman who appointed Vulken the position of Jack in 2012. Vulken is Lyric's dog-- Jack or not. Any order she gives him will be carried out swiftly and efficiently. He'll be one of the first to admit that the Boss Lady has a stern, but charming attitude to her that he finds extremely attractive-- although he hasn't been able to get very far with her, yet. He swears his loyalty to the woman, but is she really doing everything the right way?

    Yong-Yut Somsri - Vulken's best friend. The two have known each other since High School. He is a member of YY's motorcycle club, and she is often the main receiver of any affection Vulken decides to exude, much to her dismay. She's like a sister to him.

    Hector Moses - The Queen of the Scarlet Phoenixes. Vulken always... tolerated Hector. An enemy of YY's is an enemy of his, after all. Since his promotion, however, Vulken has found himself a little conflicted when it comes to listening to the flawed genius. He'll have to decide on whether or not the obedience he showed Reika will carry on to her successor.

    Markus Weiss - Vulken's childhood friend and rival, though he refuses to admit it. The two have been at each other's necks since they were kids, and a dark history has made it so that they manage to get into some kind of fight every time they run into each other. Instead of using the word 'rival', Vulken chooses to refer to Markus simply as an 'annoyance'. If someone who didn't know about their past were to witness one of their arguments, however, they'd probably think that if the two polar opposites just sat down at the bar and had a few drinks together, they'd quickly rekindle their shattered relationship. Recently, Vulken has noticed that Markus has been acting a bit... different since getting his crown. He shrugs it off, as it's probably nothing.

    Kanna Katsura - A childhood friend of Vulken's. They had met for the first time at a park in the Central District, and Vulken was immediately taken aback by Kanna's lack of fear when faced with his intimidation tactics. He had initially been flustered around the girl, but as they continued to hang out and grow older, they grew more and more comfortable with each other. Kanna was unfortunately subjected to countless of Vulken's attempts to pursue a... further relationship with her, but she remained strong and consistently rejected him, although he still makes an attempt every now and then despite her sexuality. The two don't spend as much time together as they did in their youth, but Vulken can't find it in himself to dislike his friend just because she's in another gang.

    Helva Linxal - Those stoic-types are always the cutest. Even if she won't stick around long enough to deal with his shit most of the time, Vulken is quick to admit that he's rather fond of the loyal Revenant. If he had to pick a favorite shadow-friend... probably Hiyma. Or Libla.

    Corvo Cordesco - Vulken's other sponsee. She is, in Vulken's words, a "fuckin' weirdo". There are times when he regrets sponsoring the woman, as she tends to cross the line quite frequently, but he's a man of his word. He still takes the insanely attractive woman out for dinner or drinks every now and then, though.

    Charlie Hughes - A good kid. Helva's sure got an eye for talent.

    Milo Nagisa - His kid brother's friend. Vulken doesn't see anything bad in Milo. A part of him wishes he used his smarts for better things.

    Ashley Hart - Reminds him of himself when he was younger. A little too much. He just hopes the kid doesn't have to go through what he did.




  • SCARLET PHOENIXES
    AMÉLIE
    AMÉLIE BARINOV
    LEGAL NAME
    Amélie Barinov
    AGE & BIRTH
    12 (August 11, 2009)
    ALIAS
    None
    GENDER
    Female
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    4'11" (149.86 cm) | 105lbs (47.6 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    xx of the Scarlet Phoenixes
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2021
    REPUTATION
    Vulken's... kid? Wait, no... He adopted her?? What the hell is going on?!
    Home District
    South District
    General Description
    Amélie is a petite young girl, standing at a height of 4 feet and 11 inches with snow-white hair and carmine red eyes. She often wears a very stoic, doll-like expression, but when she does happen to smile, it is bright enough to light up the entire room. Thanks to Vulken, Amélie's style of dress is also very doll-like, often wearing gothic and Victorian-style dresses and other types of clothing adorned with unnecessary jewelry.
    PERSONALITY
    Amélie is a very soft-spoken young lady. She speaks very politely no matter who she is talking to, and treats everyone equally as she is still fairly naïve to New Oasis' gang scene. She does not like seeing others get hurt, and often worries about the members of the Phoenixes.

    Amélie is also very curious and smart for her age. She enjoys learning more about the many characters in New Oasis, and often sneaks out when Vulken leaves her home alone to meet new faces. She keeps journal entries on the people she meets to help her remember them.
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY


    Amélie is the only child of former Scarlet Phoenix Alev Barinov. Born in 2007, she only got to spend three years with her father, before he suddenly stopped coming home. Following her mother's death three years later, Amélie has spent the majority of the last six years in a blur. With the support of the people neighboring her in her parents' apartment building (they took turns taking care of her, feeding her, teaching her, etc), she managed to not only avoid being put into an Orphanage, but also managed to live a relatively normal life following the passing of her parents.

    After finding her father's journal and learning about Vulken Beckman and Markus Weiss, she has made it a personal goal of hers to meet the former mentees of her father. Once she had heard of "Draken"'s battle with some Dragons a few days ago, she set out to find him and check a name off of her list.

    As soon as she had found him at a hospital, she was taken in by Vulken and Yong-Yut as their ward.

    RELATIONSHIPS


    Vulken Beckman - Amélie's new guardian. She is very interested in learning more about her father from him, but he seems very... distant. Despite his reserved attitude around her, Amélie is still very grateful to Vulken for taking her in, and enjoys his company.

    Yong-Yut Somsri - The other new guardian. They're very new to each other, and with Yong-Yut not knowing Amélie's father well, you'd think they wouldn't have much to talk about. However, she's taken very well to Yong-Yut, and appreciates her guardianship as well.

 
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  • SABLE SERPENTS
    Status: Currently Kidnapped
    LEGAL NAME
    Caio Santana Coelho
    AGE & BIRTH
    27 [Arc 1 & 2] 28 [Arc 3-Present] (December 21st, 1993)
    ALIAS
    Snake
    GENDER
    Male
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    6'4" (193 cm) | 179 lb (81 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Former Queen of the Sable Serpents (2019-2022) / Now Vetern
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2016
    REPUTATION
    Faded Glory
    Home District
    North District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    Caio has teal-colored eyes that can look blue or green depending on the light. His build is clear muscular showing that despite his being a top 1% his potential rarely does him any favors in the fighting department. His hair is black with a tuft of white from the first and only time he's attempted to use his potential on himself. Something about the stressing of his body or some junk he can't be bothered to remember.
    PERSONALITY
    For an outsider to survive in the serpent pit takes a certain kind of person.

    Caio is that kind of person.

    From the very young Caio was well aware that if he wished to thrive in the murky waters of the north he would need to harden up. It didn't matter that despite the problems he'd come across all he wanted was some goddamn breathing room. A natural fighter he is not but he'll gladly wear the part until it's safe to shed his skin. Unmovable, unconcerned with the problems of others, apathetic, violent, a wildcard, anything that would hide vulnerability. Anything that would hide what really mattered to him. If he needed to beat a few people back in line or slit the throats of someone in the way? Well that's just how the North has always run now, isn't it?

    He's the type to see his own gang as a danger to himself. He could play the role of queen until he died but he knew all that meant were more daggers at his throat. All he wanted coming into the serpents was just to be unnoticed. Power wasn't freedom. Power was a target painted on your back, and his gilded cage wasn't going to trick him into letting down his guard. After all, a snake knew when to strike, and Caio was nothing if not cunning enough to play their games. He was useful and damned if that wouldn't be his best weapon to strike back.

    So what then is this thick skin covering up?

    Fierce Loyalty. Passion. Kindness, as much as one could afford to have in the north.

    A craving for a stable life for his brood.

    And he'd bring heaven and hell down to have it.

    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY
    Caio has never had the luxury of believing his life was his.

    He was the second son to a manically coddling mother and drug addict father in the shitstain of a hovel of a home.

    What's worse is that his mother couldn't stand HPs.

    His childhood was spent being one of the black sheep. His mother constantly did her best to separate him from his little brothers terrified that any little fight would leave her favored children in shambles. His father drained them of any funds they could accumulate and even if he was a better parent to Caio than that woman ever was he still couldn't help his son through the strangeness of being an HP. His elder brother, Ruy, was the only one able to really properly parent a young Caio. He had a good six years on Caio and was another HP himself.

    The treatment didn't end once he was in school. Sure there were plenty of others who were HPs, people who could match him punch for punch, but it wasn't long until he learned how other he was. A 1%. A monster. It took only one moment of anger. One truly malicious grab on a "normal" child. The screams of panic and pain filled the surroundings. A wide berth was given. No one knew what had happened. The kid was grabbed and then he was sprouting a damn tail with blood covering the new organ. Could he give people new limbs? The question stayed with him as a lingering curiosity grew.

    Luckily there was never any end to the people willing to help him test these new powers.

    But this would come home with him as his teacher reached out to Caio's parents to control their wild son.

    This only caused things to get worse at home. Even as his father would try to support him through the learning process there was only so long Caio could take being treated like a monster in his home before lashing out. His patience ran thin after years and years of worsening treatment. If the problem was that his power made him too risky around his brothers then the solution was just to make them HPs too. He'd done so before, right? It would have been fine if he had taken more time to practice and learn the limits of his power.

    Hindsight is 20/20.

    When all was said and done he had his wish. His younger brothers had been gifted with potential. His eldest? Ruy had been the first to taste the bite of his overcharge as he was horribly hurt by the power, having already had his own.

    Now his mom had skipped out unable to look at even her once favored children. Ruy had to take suppression drugs just to stop the pain and step up to make money for them. Their father was still as unreliable as always but stood by them. Nuno and Leonel had been left in the crossfires of confusion and dealing with new powers they could barely control.

    It was only natural that after years of struggling and watching his older brother get worse, he'd join the Serpents. Anything for the money to fix his mistakes.

    NEEDS MASSIVE UPDATING

    RELATIONSHIPS

    GOTTA UPDATE GOTTA UPDATE
 
  • AZURE DRAGONS
    WHITE HALCYON
    SYLVAINE VALENTINO
    LEGAL NAME
    Sylvaine Valentino
    AGE & BIRTH
    35 (January 9th, 1986)
    ALIAS
    White Halcyon
    GENDER
    Trans Male (He/Him)
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    6’1” (185cm) | 183 lbs (83 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Veteran of the Azure Dragons
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2016
    REPUTATION
    A calm and composed man who is known to be reliable. That is, until you do something to harm him.
    Home District
    North District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    When a situation calls for a calm and collected individual to sort things out, Sylvaine is the man to turn to. His expression is the epitome of serenity, a gentle look in his dark cyan eyes, and a graceful smile permanently etched onto his face, all of his features framed by long, salt-and-pepper hair that, whilst he tries to tame it, parts of it always seem to cascade over his shoulders and get in his face.

    With such a friendly and welcoming aura, it's difficult to understand why exactly Sylvaine had gone down this path and ended up where he is, now. That is, until one observes the uncanny details that contradicts his apparent peaceful nature. Namely, the three consecutive scars lining the right side of his face, and the mask covering a good chunk of his left. These are the markers that point to the opposite, and paint a different tale than what initially presented.
    PERSONALITY
    A kind man. He's often willing to lend an ear to one's troubles, nodding along quietly with his brows lightly furrowed as he listens to the other's distressed tale without interruption, then offering tidbits of advice here and there to aid the individual before going on his merry way, happy to have helped another person, even if it is a little. He basically gives off major grandpa vibes, the type of man who seems to have grown wiser from his life experience, taking every mistake in his life as a lesson to keep improving and growing, therefore bestowing his ever-expanding knowledge on those who need it in that moment.

    Make no mistake, Sylvaine can be quite... twisted, in his own way. Minor inconveniences never bother him that much, if it's a person that's bothering him, he'll usually give them some backhanded comments to make them rethink their life decisions. However, one who goes out of their way to bring harm upon him, mentally or physically (or both), will no longer have the luxury of a friendly man who just wants to understand. It's like removing that mask from his face, and revealing a completely different side of him. He becomes cold, his warm gaze turning icy, his demeanor rigid, as though he's trying to control himself from his own hostility. And slowly, he will begin to plot... lying in wait, in the shadows, waiting for the perfect opportunity to make his enemy feel the agony that they put him through. An eye for an eye, as they say.
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY
    Sylvaine was born in the North District, the only child to a family who immediately burdened him with their unachievably high expectations. And while he was initially an overachiever, desperate for the non-existent approval of his parents, he became disillusioned with it all during his teen years, their empty promises and their fake love failing to deceive him anymore.
    So, instead, he became what they were absolutely terrified of. He became rebellious, his overachiever status quickly crumbling as he abandoned the studies he had once been so dedicated to, instead turning to the streets and the troublesome company he found there. For the next couple of years, he became detached from his old life, abruptly cutting all contact with his former friends, and practically becoming a ghost in his parents' home, only welcomed by yelling and disapproval whenever he would decide to show his face.

    At some point, however, as he was entering adulthood, he begun to realize what a mess his life had been, an existence devoid of control and purpose, other than the illegal activities he had sunk himself into. He felt hopeless, like nothing and nobody could save him... but someone did. A man around his age, whom he had grown close to. The man offered his hand, promising to help Sylvaine escape this life and finally find the order he so desperately craved, though warned him that there would likely be consequences. He agreed regardless, desperate to escape the past that held onto him so tightly. He had little regard for the consequences, as, at the time, he didn't think it could get any worse. But he was so terribly wrong.

    He fled with this man, over to the East District, where they began a life together and had a son.
    What happened to his lover and son is unknown at this moment.

    It was ten years ago that Sylvaine found himself alone, and once again faced with a purposeless existence. A floating form, lost in the void, unsure of what to make of himself. That is, until he pulled himself back into reality, and observed the world around him. He could see the chaos of others, run amok in the East District. And so, he finally began to find purpose in himself. To bring order to the unruly, and calm to the uneasy.

    It was for the next five years that he spent in the streets, taking on what he considered to be his purpose. He couldn't escape the chaos and uncertainty of his own life, but he could bring peace to others' lives in one way or another. And it was through these efforts that he was noticed by the Azure Dragons, and received the infamous letter, calling him to join. Seeing it as a sign for his true purpose, a promise from whoever may be watching him from above, he accepted the calling.
    RELATIONSHIPS
    None yet : ( he's very lonely
 
  • ALBINO TIGERS
    X
    XIXIX VALENTINE
    LEGAL NAME
    XIXIX VALENTINE
    AGE & BIRTH
    27 (November 11, 1996)
    ALIAS
    X
    GENDER
    MALE
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    6'3" (xxx cm) | 194 lb (xx kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Ghost of the Albino Tigers
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2007
    REPUTATION
    ODD
    Home District
    East District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    X is a relatively tall man with a slender build. His soft spoken yet assertive nature is coupled with his trademarked dispassionate gold eyes. Due to his height and overall lack of interest in well...anything his posture isn't always the best, usually slouching while sitting, or maintaining a slightly noticable hunch in his back while standing or walking. Other than that he usually wears business attire weather he is on official Tiger business, or not. His most noticeable trademark is the mask he always wears on his face. Only a few people have seen his face and most of them are dead, or higher up the food chain and he would prefer to keep it that way.
    PERSONALITY


    "What is a life but a series of contradictions."

    Xixix doesn't take too many things seriously, including himself, and is always seeking ways to avoid any type of work when possible to the extent that his speech can become fragmented at times when he doesn't feel like explaining the important parts in between his initial thoughts and their conclusions as he relies on the other person to follow his train of thought. Despite this, he is general unsuccessful in avoiding work; in fact, he has been willing on numerous occasions to perform the "dirty work" and will agree to almost any job. In spite of this he will often deflect credit, or lie about any achievement causing some to wonder if he ever does anything in the organization. If you're around X long enough you will realize there is such a thing as being too carefree, and apathetic.

    Xixix will often say things in a matter of fact manner and can be pretty tactless at times . He tends to look at things from a logical perspective even when it comes to subjective/philosophical things such as morality. Ironically, despite his pragmatism, his actions are often quite illogical to most. Is there any meaning to his life at all? X himself would tell you he has no dreams, or aspirations. Lastly, he is pretty casual at all times, speaking to most as if they are equals despite their position in society. For clarification, he is equally kind and equally a pain in the arse for all parties involved no matter their status.

    His eccentric nature aside, there is a cold air about him, no matter how close one seemingly gets. While he does seem to have a sense of neutrality about him your views on the person known as X can change depending on who you speak to. Ruthless, lazy, caring, cunning, stupid, charming, deceptive, too honest, and dead...when he isn't acting like a total space cadet he seems to be whatever the organization needs to be even if it means offing those within should that be a need. A company man if you will...then at times people would describe him as a total renegade when he sets his sights on something. Despite the ice in his veins, he could probably tell you about anyone he has ever wronged, or killed. All in all, he is a pretty battle worn rookie to say the least, walking within the shadows of the organization. Since he has been here so long and it's not hard not to notice someone with his appearance it wouldn't be a surprise if many people have seen him; however, it also wouldn't be a surprise if many had no idea who he was. Some know him, some don't. If you know him too well...you're probably on the wrong path.
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY

    "Who me? I'm just a side character."

    Everyone has a sob story...err...difficulties to overcome. X wouldn't consider his past special so he rarely talks about it. In fact, his backstory changes almost every time you ask him to the point some people wonder if Xixix is his real name. One thing most have settled on, is that he had been in the gang pretty much all his life. He started with small time gigs as a child until he could prove his mettle and handle the....darker missions. No parents, no siblings, or relatives that anyone knows of. There is only a select few that have seen his face...most are dead, but that is besides the point. The speculation is that he was indentured by his original parents to pay a debt like many of the others; however, X doesn't appear to carry himself in grief, frustration, or even awareness of the situation. In the end, he must have worked it off as he is now a veteran of the Albino Tigers. One could say he is the Hollow Enigma of the gang, another cog in the machine fulfilling his debt....a lifetime of servitude.

    Despite being a "rookie" he knows a lot about the district and the goings on in the gang. Perhaps it is because of his experience that he carries himself like a full fledged veteran, but he rarely seems worried, or concerned about his status. He can usually be found working as a dealer in the [Name to be determined ] Casino. In spite of his laziness, he is quick to carry out any and every mission assigned to him without much complaint.



    RELATIONSHIPS
    "A scandalous question. I love women with...oh you mean family and friends. Leave it blank."
 
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  • ALBINO TIGERS
    MOUSE
    ISOBEL PHAM (STATUS UNKNOWN)
    LEGAL NAME
    Pham Nguyet
    AGE & BIRTH
    27 (January 31, 1995)
    ALIAS
    Mouse
    GENDER
    Female
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    5'5" (165 cm) | 105lb (48 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Jack of the Albino Tigers ???
    ACTIVE SINCE
    December 2008
    REPUTATION
    Lost & Found Department
    Home District
    West District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    Isobel had a waif-like figure, amber coloured eyes, and dark shoulder length hair that struggles to be tamed. Her style can be described as thrift store retro and is a mish-mash of secondhand clothes in various styles, patterns, and colors that she has collected over the years from thrift shops. On a day-to-day basis, she defaults to a pair of jeans, oversized shirts and old vintage tees, and a pair of sneakers faded from multiple washes. Isobel has terrible myopia and wears a pair of round, gold-rimmed glasses when she isn't wearing her contacts. She is essentially blind if she isn't wearing her glasses or contacts.
    PERSONALITY

    Isobel is an introvert through and through. After being forced to join the Tigers, she became even more withdrawn and now spends more time interacting with her cat than with other people. Combined with her non-existent social skills and disability, those who do not know her well find her hostile and a little strange.

    Because of her experiences, she takes everything with a pinch of salt and is constantly wary of people's intentions. Initially hateful of the gangs, she has grown to enjoy, or at the very least not detest, working for the Tigers mostly because they are significantly more forthcoming about their intentions. While she comes across as uncaring about everything, when she sets her mind to something she becomes intensely focused and will do whatever it takes to see the task through, sometimes to the chagrin of those that have to work with her.

    Despite trying to keep her distance, she is extremely susceptible to the emotions of people around her, especially with regards to sadness and pain. She finds it difficult to walk away from people in need and feels a insatiable want to fix things for the people she has grown attached to often at the expense of her own well-being (white knight syndrome much?)

    Isobel will collect just about anything, from vinyl records and books to dried flowers and random gears. Walking into her tiny apartment, most people would be intimidated just by the sheer amount of stuff she has. It isn't necessarily messy but it makes one wonder how she manages to find anything she needs.
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY

    Isobel was born in a small village far from New Oasis on the first day of the Lunar New Year. As such, her parents had named her Nguyet meaning "from the moon". She has few memories of her time in this village for when she was three, her parents moved to New Oasis in search of better opportunities. Their little family unit of three moved into a one-bedroom apartment and her parents both found jobs, her mother as a cleaner and her father as a cook at a nearby restaurant. The jobs didn't pay well but were enough for them to get by and while it wasn't the most comfortable, they were happy with their new life. Isobel, a name her mother gave her after she came home one day crying because the kids in school kept making fun of her name. Navigating a new city, culture, and language, stressed Isobel out immensely as a child and she often retreated to the safety of books, art, and her mother's arms who was always there despite her busy schedule.

    Misfortune struck the family when her mother fell sick when she was 11. Too poor to get her the medical treatment she needed, her mother succumbed to her illness and passed away about a year later. Isobel cried for days after the loss of her mother. By the time she stopped her throat was so hoarse she could barely make a sound. She hasn’t spoken a word since. Isobel's father didn't fare any better. He was broken so completely that he could barely function on a day-to-day basis and eventually got fired from his job. His daughter's new disability was another source of concern and eventually, the weight of his pain drove him to alcohol and gambling as an escape. Many nights Isobel would sit at the dinner table alone, eating plain rice for that was all they could afford, unsure of where her father had gone.

    One night, as she thought about him, she felt a strange pull as if there was an invisible string tied around her. Curiosity getting the better of her, she started following the pull where she was led to The Diamond Palace. Unknown to her at that time, this was one of the many gambling establishments owned by the Albino Tigers. Obviously, she wasn't allowed to enter but sitting outside on the curb she began thinking about the strange pull that led her there. A couple of hours later, her father finally came stumbling out of the Diamond Palace, confused as to what his mute daughter was doing there but too drunk to question it.

    After this, Isobel never worried about where her father went for she was always able to track him down, much to his chagrin. She also began experimenting with her newfound potential on various objects, realizing that she may have had this ability for a long time now but never fully understood what it was exactly. Her father also started to catch on to her abilities and would often return home with a handful of lost pet posters asking her to attempt to find them. Isobel always obliged seeing how happy it would make her father when they collected the reward after. It also meant he spent less time at the casinos and more time with her. Unbeknownst to her, her father had amounted a significant debt with the Albino Tigers and there was never going to be enough lost pet rewards that could pay it off. It didn't take long for the Tigers to come knocking on their door seeking repayment. Caught between a rock and a hard place and with nowhere left to run, her father did the one thing he could think of which was to offer up his 13-year-old daughter to the Tigers in exchange for clearing his debt. Being informed of what her potential was and quickly figuring out how they could utilize it for their benefit, they accepted.

    Hurt by the betrayal of her only remaining family member, Isobel retreated further into herself. As an indebted member, her rookie days were hard, made harder by her unwillingness to cooperate. She was shown no respect and was frequently punished. An entire year later she was still relegated to duties that even the new rookies were not made to do. Eventually, one of the members took pity on her and offered some words of advice; Life might deal you bad cards but that doesn't mean you fold immediately. Instead, put on your best poker face and outwit the rest of the players at the table. After hearing that, she started cooperating more, even using her potential to help the Tigers and gaining herself some respect. It wasn't until she crossed paths with Markus that things started to take a turn for the better (sort of). While seeking support for his coup to overthrow Roland she struck a deal with the future king. In exchange for more freedom within the tigers, she'd do as he asked should he assume the throne.

    The alias "mouse" was in a way given to her by the other members of the gang. Initially nicknamed so because of her unnaturally quiet nature, she has assumed the alias and made it her own.

    RELATIONSHIPS

    Aristotle | A stray cat she has adopted and presently her closest companion.

    August | You could say that their friendship is entirely transactional, formed on the basis of their love for collecting things that are seemingly useless to everyone but them. While she is unlikely to jump in front of a bus to save his ass, she considers him a good friend. She appreciates his forthrightness and ability to completely disregard people's opinion of him.

    Ezra | TBA

    Markus | Isobel's relationship with the present king is a complex one. On the surface, they appear to be polar opposites but they share more similarities than either of them realize. In a bizarre turn of events, Isobel almost pities the king for the position he is in.

    Sang Cheol | A childhood friend that now exists as little more than a memory she holds close to her heart. After getting taken by the Tigers she lost contact with him.
 
  • SCARLET PHOENIXES
    Shrike
    Akamozu Jun
    LEGAL NAME
    Akamozu Jun
    AGE & BIRTH
    19 (December 26, 2003)
    ALIAS
    Shrike
    GENDER
    Male
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    5'2" (157.6 cm) | 119 lb (54.3 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Rookie of the Scarlet Phoenixes
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2020
    REPUTATION
    The Problem Child of the Scarlet Phoenix, Shitty Brat
    Home District
    South District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    A lithe, short, young man of 5'2", covered in a variety of scars.
    He's commonly strutting around in trendy, sporty fashion, with dark eyes and a twisted smile that's just waiting to cause trouble.
    If you choose to approach him, be ready to dodge, he likes to "test" other phoenixes he meets with the sword at his hip.
    Try not to be too offended though, it's just his way of saying "Hello!"
    PERSONALITY
    Akamozu Jun is like any other young boy his age;
    He'll happily talk to you about the recent cafes he's been to, or the newest digital album his favorite, obscure band of a bizarre "-core" you've never heard of just released, or the smokin', sick, stylish combos he's been learning in the newest installment of the hit action RPG he's been playing through.
    But beneath the friendly smile, there's something every Phoenix quickly learns when they first meet him;
    Akamozu Jun is a sociopath; warped, twisted and tainted black from the inside-out.
    Many things that seem like common sense, or rational human emotion are lost on Jun; being one of the Scarlet Phoenix's premiere new hitmen, he's gotten a reputation for the contrast between his impish, childlike demeanor, and brutal, cruel actions, casually making conversation with enemy gang members while in the midst of a fight to the death in one moment, before slicing them open from chin to toe in the next.
    The sanctity of life, as a whole, is something he gives little reverence towards, whether it's the lives of others, or his own.
    After all, life is short and unpredictable in the city.
    And for those in the Scarlet Phoenixes, and the other gangs, who choose to live a life of violence and strife, it's only to be expected that it'll come to sudden, brutal end.
    So why waste so much time getting upset about things like other people dying?
    This irreverence extends to even his fellow Phoenixes;
    Where other Phoenixes will lament and swear vengeance for the death of a comrade, Jun will simply shrug his shoulders, and expectantly ready himself for the order of a revenge hit that's sure to follow, the fallen Phoenix's name likely erased from his memory before he's even gotten his shoes on, if it was even ever there to begin with.
    In fact, he's been known by some of the veteran members to be a bit of a brat, needed to be coerced or bribed into following through on an order, with no amount of pleadings "for the good of the gang" having any success on changing his mind.
    This attitude and impetuous nature has given him a reputation for being difficult to deal with, and harder to handle for many veteran members, but, some of the more personable members have found that approaching Jun as a "Friend" instead of as a superior is the best way to get him to do what you want;
    Offer to go with him to the newest teashop after the job, or play him in a few rounds of Tokken at the arcade, and he'll be more than happy to go along.
    At the end of the day, he's just like any other young boy his age, going through life one swing of his sword at a time.

    Likes:
    +Trendy things.
    +Sweets.
    +Competitive Team-based Sports.
    +Giving people nicknames to avoid learning their real name.
    +Video Games.
    +Scary Movies.
    +Music.
    +His "Music".
    +The thrill of walking the line between life and death.
    +The Sight of Freshly-Spilled Blood.
    +The Scent of Freshly-Spilled Blood.
    +The Taste of Freshly-Spilled Blood.
    +Spilled Blood Brand Energy Drinks™.
    +And Posting on Social Media!

    Dislikes:
    -Silence.
    -Boredom and tedium.
    -Being told what to do.
    -Being Lectured (Especially by Azure Dragons).
    -Spiders.
    -Getting Banned Off of Every Form of Social Media for Posting "Disturbing Content."
    -Getting Banned Off of Every Form of Social Media Again for "Ban Evasion."
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY
    I was with the new kid on a job one time, some Serpent dealers or some-such workin' out of that old warehouse next to the school. They were slingin' some real nasty shit to the kids there, 's how we found out about it, after one of 'em tipped us off about the operation.
    It was a pretty messy ordeal, 'specially cause of him and his...'habits,' but we ended up clearin' the place out in the end.
    We were in the middle of cleaning up when I noticed the kid up 'n disappeared on me, so, of course, I went around looking, and eventually found 'im up on the rooftop, hangin' on the rails. I walked over, ready to give 'im a piece of my mind, and a bit of my boot, when I noticed he was lookin' out at the school.
    All the kids were funnelin' out, all headin' home for the day, talkin' to each other, y'know, doing kid things.
    When I looked back at that kid, the look in his eyes....he looked so...mystified by it all... like he was lookin' out into a portal to another dimension.
    One that he'd never be able to reach.
    I didn't look too much into his history when I got assigned to work with 'im, didn't seem like my place to pry.
    All I heard were the rumors 'bout how they found 'im.
    Apparently some of our boys were trackin' some Serpent product goin' around our turf, thought they'd found a potential dealer livin' out of some ramshackle hut out in the sticks by the ocean.
    They busted in, and apparently found what they were lookin' for in spades; Vipers, Rattlers, every other kind of degenerate shit you could think of.
    Thing is, it was scattered all over the floor, most of it already been used...
    That wasn't all they found there though; there was a body, from what the guys said, beaten so bad they could hardly even tell if it was a man or a woman anymore...all they could recognize were the Azure Dragon tattoos on it's skin.
    'Course...that got 'im interested, so they started lookin' deeper into the house, and wound up comin' across a man face down in 'is own blood, tiger stripes on his arms, and about a dozen holes in 'is back, hangin' halfway down into the basement.
    At first they weren't really sure what t' make of it all...a deal gone bad? a Serpent dumpin' ground?
    They were just about ready to call it quits for now, torch the place, and call it a day, 'till they heard a little bump comin' from upstairs...
    They found 'im there, in the attic...starved so bad he was almost feral, holdin' a bloody knife in 'his tremblin' little hands...
    I...I had a family, y'know? A sweet lil daughter and a wonderful wife.
    ...They got...swept up...in the storm.
    If they were still here...I...I'd apologize for not doin' right by them...for not bein' an honest man...for bein' a killer...
    I ended up not kickin' the little kid's ass...I couldn't, lookin' at him like that.
    All I could wonder, if he'd gotten a choice, would he be down there with those kids?
    Or here with us?
    RELATIONSHIPS
    Little Red: or "Little Red Granny," as he likes to call her.
    Acted as Jun's sponsor for the Scarlet Phoenixes.
    According to some other senior members, she used to be a lot more personable, though Jun can't really see it with how much of a pain she can be.
    Really, she should do something about that attitude of hers, before she ends up with some really ugly frown lines!
    At the very least, she knows some pretty good food spots around town, and she's pretty fun to "work" with.

Credit for Character Art goes to Niwarhythm
 
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  • SCARLET PHOENIXES
    MARIPOSA
    CALLISTA REINHART
    LEGAL NAME
    Callista Reinhart
    AGE & BIRTH
    21 (November 01, 2000)
    ALIAS
    Mariposa
    GENDER
    Female
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    5'8" (173 cm) | 115 lb (52 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Rookie of the Scarlet Phoenixes
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2019
    REPUTATION
    ???
    Home District
    South District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    Callista carries herself with the regal bearing of someone accustomed to power and wealth. She often appears taller than she is, due to her tendency to hold herself up in a relatively superior manner amongst others. She has golden hair that extends to her hips in soft waves, and beautiful crimson eyes that are framed by thick lashes. Her form is slim and lithe, with little to no muscle definition. Callista likes to wear elegant dresses in various shades of red and gold with fine jewelry. It's evident by taking one look at her that she was born with a golden spoon in her mouth.
    PERSONALITY
    As they say, looks can be deceiving. Though she exhibits proper grace and savor-faire in public, she is a cunning individual with an unpleasant temper. She projects an image of dignified grace and kindness, but behind that mellow voice and disarming smile hides a dark and twisted personality. Callista is a snake, her silver tongue letting everyone hear exactly what they want to hear. Keenly aware of her features and privileges, she makes use of these to weave a web of lies to manipulate others, hiding her selfish and twisted self beyond a veil of kindness and empathy. She trusts no one, and she is only at ease with others when she has them completely wrapped around her finger.

    Callista has her own twisted and self-serving form of loyalty, with a dedication to some and a throw-away attitude to others. She is motivated to act purely for her own ends, and the lengths to which she will go to save someone else are entirely reliant on the relationship she has with them. She has no difficulty in selecting friends according to their value, like sorting out a box of precious jewels. Nevertheless, Callista never hides her pride. The young woman is proud of who she is, and why shouldn’t she be? She is passionate, daring, and flirtatious. She is very demanding and will mercilessly discard anyone who does not suit her needs any longer.
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY
    Born as an only child to an upper-class family, Callista grew up in all the comfort and luxury others could only dream of. Anything she could ever want was given to her. Her youth consisted of fun and leisure, seeking adventures from sunrise to sunset. Callista knew nothing of the hardships of the world. Life was a sunny adventure and she was its conqueror, but not for long.

    Everything changed after the manifestation of her potential. Callista's father valued wealth and power, always striving for more, and his greed stirred from this revelation. He sought to use her as a tool to further his own ends—to rise up the ranks of the Scarlet Phoenix. He pushed her to master her potential, and he molded her to be his perfect obedient little doll, ready to do his every bidding. With Callista by his side, his opportunities to make a mark in the world were endless.

    Life took a turn for the worse after the sudden death of Callista’s mother. Stricken by grief, her father turned to alcohol, and he grew unstable and violent. He took pleasure in beating others to relieve his stress and anger, and young Callista was often at the receiving end of it. Ever so obedient, she took the beatings without a single word of protest. He loved her, she thought, because he showered her with expensive gifts. Wasn’t that love? If not, she did not want to know.

    A year later, Callista’s father married a woman who seemed hellbent on taking everything away from her. It started with her father's time and attention. Then she set her eyes on Callista’s personal belongings, taking away her precious jewelry and prized possessions. Determined to make her life a living hell, she drove Callista’s friends away and isolated her from the world, leaving her with one last friend in the shape of a dog named Star.

    Despite everything, Callista kept a sunny disposition. She had Star, a furry companion who made the storms of life feel like drizzle. So, when she watched her stepmother beat Star until the light faded from his eyes, something in Callista snapped. It was her fault for being a tattletale, the woman said, and everything after that was a blur. There was a dreadful scream, and then she saw her stepmother’s lifeless body on the ground. Life would never be the same, and neither would Callista.

    Callista’s father should have shunned her and despised her, but he didn’t. And why would he? She was a pawn he’d spent years molding into his perfect little marionette. She was a means to an end, and he kept his eye on the prize. On her eighteenth birthday, he sponsored Callista and she officially became a Phoenix. The plan he had been carefully crafting all these years was finally set in motion, but life intervened, or rather, death. Because it finally came knocking on his doors.

    Their car crashed on their way home that day, and Callista was the sole survivor. The cause of the crash: the driver had fallen asleep. Rumors circulated that Callista had something to do with the accident. After all, she was the only one in a position to benefit from her father’s death. With him out of the picture, she acquired all of his wealth and everything that came with it. At her father's funeral, Callista did not weep; her face showed no feeling or sentiment. From behind her came whispers. But what would they know?

    In the following months after her father's death, no word had been heard of Callista. Even the servants had been quiet, not a whisper in the wind. Callista only showed her face again on the Scarlet Phoenix’s turf after the hurricane, providing aid and relief to the victims who had suffered the most. It is unclear what her motives are.
    RELATIONSHIPS
    Ashley Hart - They first met after the hurricane, when Callista found him lying terribly wounded and unconscious in a dark alleyway. She brought him into her home and nursed him back to health, and they've since built an unlikely friendship. Recently, Callista has begun to see him in a different light, and it's hard to deny that she has developed romantic feelings.

 
  • ALBINO TIGERS
    PEACE
    OLIVER FESSLE
    NAME
    Oliver Fessle
    AGE & BIRTH
    22 (March 3, 2000)
    ALIAS
    Peace
    GENDER
    Male
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    5'4" 164.6 cm) | 155 lb (70.3 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Rookie of the Albino Tigers
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2020
    REPUTATION
    Freelance Handyman
    Home District
    West District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    Oliver stands at the tall, tall height of 5'4", despite being so tall for some unknown reason he's been mistaken for being tween on more than a few occasions. Another thing that stays the same about him is the helmet and goggles he wears pretty much all the time, it's quite rare to actually see the top of his head.
    PERSONALITY
    Olivers someone who keeps a fine line in his relationships, making sure he doesn't cross it. He'll laugh, he'll smile, he'll crack jokes, he'll play around, he'll help, he'll listen, but he won't talk about himself. He doesn't want to expose his vulnerabilities, he fears if he does he would get too attached, and in his line of work nobody knows when it'll happen. When they inevitably turn to the final chapter of their life.

    Oliver doesn't completely shut people out though, because being truly alone only eats away at you over time. He enjoys the warmth of his conversations with others, his smiles are genuine, and he would put himself in harm's way to protect what makes him happy. Oliver may not be aware of it but he's already crossed that thinly crafted line.

    In a way Oliver's grateful to the Tigers, even if his membership wasn't exactly voluntary. Instead of wasting away in his room, they gave him something to do, something to take his mind off of the bad moments. Regardless of the fact it wasn't done in good faith, he still appreciates what the Tigers have done for him.



    Likes

    • Good ol' Smoke breaks
    • Koalas, cause why not?
    • The cold night breeze, refreshing
    • Dance Dance Revolution, its DDR
    • Sleepin in the sun, its relaxing
    • Caramel, mmmmm yummy

    Dislikes

    • Peppermint, it sucks
    • Alcohol, tastes like shit
    • Math, it hurts
    • Drugs, self explanatory
    • Serpents, they're bastards

    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY
    Oliver was just like any kid, he loved his parents, his older brother, enjoyed school, made friends, he was just like any normal kid. Except he wasn't normal. It wasn't out of the ordinary for towns such as Ruverside, Oliver's home town, to be unwelcoming to HPs or as they call them freaks, and just so happens Oliver to be one of these so called freaks. Oliver's own parents shared the same sentiment as the other folks of Ruverside.

    Ruverside tries not to expose their children to any HP related media (such as the Marble Cinematic Universe), so most kids, including Oliver, had no clue what HP really was. The first time Oliver activated his Potential was an accident, but it wasn't just any simple accident. Fresh blood pooling onto the concrete, splattered across Oliver's clothes, cries and whimpers escaped his lips. With a chain impaling the source to the ground. It was a large dog, it took deep, sharp breaths as it lay pinned down, slowly dying. It chased him from his house, it wouldn't stop barking as it cornered him into an alley. He was scared, he didn't know what to do as his mind raced. Oliver shut his eyes tightly when the dog lunged for him, then he heard a loud crack followed by a yelp shortly after he could hear the steps of someone running, through his tears he saw his brother, Elliott.

    The only words that could Oliver's mouth were, "I-I did-didn't mean to."


    Oliver's brother comforted him that day. When he calmed down Elliott talked to him about what happened, putting two & two together he realized Oliver was a HP. After talking things through some more, Elliott asked him to keep what happened a secret between the two of them. Oliver promised to keep it a secret. A little more than a year after that incident Elliott had left Ruverside for a bigger city, a city called New Oasis. Before Elliott left he gave Oliver a parting gift, the helmet and goggles he wears to this day. On the inside of the helmet Elliott left his number, and told him if he ever needed anything he could always call him. It only took a few years to take him up on that offer.

    Ever since the incident with the dog, he had been practicing with his potential. At the start he was rather careful about not being seen, but over time he got careless. He didn't notice it, but someone was watching. Ruverside is a tight-knit community, and what is one thing all tight-knit communities have in common? It only takes a day for the whole town to know the hottest thing on the block, so it didn't take long for the news that Oliver was a HP to spread. He thought his own parents would be on his side, instead they only looked at him with scorn. The town he used to call him, the town where he grew up for 15 years, had turned on him overnight.

    Oliver called his brother for the first time in a few months, and just broke down. He told him how he couldn't take it anymore, everything became too much for him to handle. After a much needed heart-to-heart, Elliott proposed that he move in with him in New Oasis. Oliver hesitated, but with everything that has happened a good change of scenery would be appreciated.He didn't know what to expect when he moved to New Oasis, all he knows are some crazy rumors he heard here and there. Though it wasn't just the rumors that were crazy, it was New Oasis itself, if compared to the drab Ruverside New Oasis was like a fairy tale of sorts. But unlike fairy tales, real life doesn't have happy endings.

    As told by Oliver's brother, Elliott got mixed in with the wrong crowd when he first arrived in New Oasis, specifically a crowd that were common customers of the Serpents. He wasn't proud of it, but he got addicted to their goods. It got so bad he ended up getting loans from the Tigers, and it wasn't a small amount either. But when Oliver called him for help, it gave him a reality check. It took a bit but he slowly got his shit together for his brother. Ever since Oliver reentered his life he never missed a payment, he managed to pay off more than half of it while still supporting him and his brother. He might've been alive still if it wasn't for those damn snakes.

    Imagine coming home only to find the front door slightly ajar, the strong smell of iron coming from within. Imagine opening the door to see drying blood trailing in, shards of glass on the ground, furniture & decor shoved about. Imagine seeing where that blood led. Imagine each step that it took. Keep imagining, because that's what Oliver wish it was, just his imagination, his brain fucking with him, that it was simply a nightmare. Elliott's body was cold and lifeless. Nothing he did helped, all he did was spread the blood further.

    Oliver spent several days alone going through Elliott's belongings as the police handled the case. It wasn't long before they got their hands on their prime suspect, one of Elliott's old pals, they found him covered in his blood, the knife he used painted red without a sliver of what was once beneath it showing; It was like he didn't care. It was like he had no reason to. And he didn't. Even with the evidence they had, even with the confession he willingly gave, even with all that they just let him go. Oliver wasn't allowed the closure to see his brother's “Friend” behind bars.

    Before Oliver was allowed to properly grieve, a notice from The Albino Tigers came in. It stated that Elliott's debt would become Oliver's responsibility, either he works with the Tigers or they can find some other "method" of recuperating their losses. Many would see this as kicking a man while they're down, but to him it truly was a blessing in disguise.
    RELATIONSHIPS



    Elliott Fessle (late, older brother) : The person Oliver looked up to the most in life


    Mr. & Mrs. Fessle (estranged parents) : So far removed his life that their names aren't even worth mentioning



 
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  • ALBINO TIGERS
    "The Crow"
    Rohen Vista
    LEGAL NAME
    Rohen Vista
    AGE & BIRTH
    22 (July 4, 2000)
    ALIAS
    Crow
    GENDER
    Female
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    5'6" (170 cm) | 124 lb (56 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Rookie of the Albino Tigers
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2022
    REPUTATION
    Ex-PMC
    Home District
    West District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    An Ex-PMC who happened to get too careless and found herself locked in yet another contract. Very nonchalant about her situation, most likely she's just seen a lot of things that most things don't seem to phase her or has already done lots of things to kill her innocence. She might even boast quite extreme confidence in herself and boost an ego, but we all know she's just in it for the ride or will take the wheel. Enjoys smokes and booze and has a weird uncoincidental attraction to things dying, as if she can smell the scent of death.
    PERSONALITY
    A very laid back individual. Nonchalant and casual. Whether it's a façade or her actual behavior, it's pretty inconsistent. Though at work, she'll be more focused and give off a more serious vibe. She has to, it was sort of engraved in her nature. Whatever is wrong with her, she's always looking for the fun in trouble.
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY
    Rohen Vista was the name she was born with on Amestrian soil. Her potential was acquired later via illegal experimentation. At a very young age she was abducted by an unknown group to undergo illegal experimentation which alters the physical state of her biological body. While the results of her experimentation was of the best outcome, her new status as an HP was a major concern after she was recovered by a contracted military group during a raid to dismantle the group and their lab by any means necessary. Even though she was reunited with her parents and resumed the road that was planned out for her years in school like a normal kid, it wouldn't be the same. Because of that experience, she would have had to go to therapy for about... the entirety of her school career. With a Potentiality in her kit, she was able to excel in physical education and abused it to her liking. While its use was harmless, the appearance of it freaked out others.

    Even though others were frightened by her potentiality, there were some who thought it was interesting and cool. She was able to thankfully live a normal school life then. After she graduated and it was time to look for a job, a Private Military Company scouted her. How can this be? You thought I said she was normal enough? Actually, because of her abduction and experimentation along with the raid which took quite some time over a span of days in about two weeks, she picked up some habits and was also invested in some of the contractors' activities. She even shot and killed her abductor herself when given the choice. Of course, a P.M.C. will recognize talent when they see it. Her behavior in school was also quite unique. Despite finishing all her work efficiently, she also excelled in physical education. But outside of her school, she picked fights with delinquents who got on her nerves during school and came out unscathed. She already even picked up a smoking habit to ease her anxieties. She definitely had the talent they were looking for in her.

    Once signed on, she was tasked mostly with intel gathering, recon and sniper missions outside of doing some small hacking gigs. She used to work alone but her performance excelled when a squad made up of NPs and HPs asked her to join them on missions. They went on missions together for a few years before going on leave once work was settling down and their bank accounts were loaded. Hers included. With more money than she knew what to do with it, she decided to hit some casinos up in New Oasis: A city where her parents found each other in and where she moved to in order to live by herself. Going into the West District where corporate buildings and casinos littered the area, she was feeling confident she was gonna win some big bucks in her games.

    She did not.

    She mostly felt like the casinos were scamming her and were definitely playing against her by rigging it. So when asked to pay up, she refused which caught the bouncers' attention and they tried to extort money from her. Violently. Fortunately for her and unfortunate for them, she had a potentiality that could let her evade all that. Later on however, the house will always win. Unfortunately for her and fortunately for the Albino Tigers, they found her banking info and got a hold of her to fork up the money or be forced to join up with their gang. Before they could make any additional threats to make her do one or the other, she promptly responded with:

    "Shit, I guess."

    Which marked her agreement to join the gang. Why? She has loads of money, she could just pay off her debt. Well, at this point, she wanted to see how much fun she can drain from all the trouble she was causing. Plus, being in the gang might not be a bad idea. She did at least pay the entry fee. She just wasn't going to pay that casino.

    RELATIONSHIPS
    N/A
 
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  • ALBINO TIGERS
    Monsieur Melancholy
    Jacques de la Isarn
    LEGAL NAME
    Jacques de la Isarn
    AGE & BIRTH
    26 (December 20th, 1996)
    ALIAS
    Monsieur Melancholy
    GENDER
    Male
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    5'5" (165 cm) | 97 lbs (44 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Rookie of the Albino Tigers
    ACTIVE SINCE
    2022
    REPUTATION
    Moody madman/woman
    Home District
    East District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION

    With the slight repercussion of movements common to military men, Jacques stands rigidly in a frilly dress of contrasting black and white. There is a slight bored look in his eyes, partly a disinterest in his environment, chiefly a perpetual spell of doziness that had been with him since the day of his birth, keeping him in touch with dreams and fancies unknown to men of saner minds. Condensed power seems to shift with every contraction of his pupils, threatening an outburst at any moment towards habitual raving and dispossession. Though his voice is soft, his small throat belies a capability to draw to the pitch of soprano hysteria or fall to the baritone of cannon fire. He is pale. His hair is dark. His eyes cannot be elevated by daylight to any hue brighter than black. Seeing him at rest, one thinks of the embalmed remains of a female child whose hands clasp reverently upon her chest, whose eyes close, whose cheeks blush ever so slightly in intimation of life.
    PERSONALITY

    Jacques has the personality of a widower, a middle-aged man three times married in the body of a pretty youth. In reality, he has only dated two men and a half but is not gay, has been in the army, an asylum, a theatre troupe, and deep melancholy since the day he was born.
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY

    Jacques was born preterm on a rainy day. Earlier that day, his mother had looked out the window with a novel on her lap and sighed with affliction, “I will die in the rain,” and felt, with the conviction of a woman who calculates the aesthetic of every important event in her life, that it was time, and called for the nurse.

    Growing up Jacques was adored with tough love and benefited from the sentimental education of his mother. But mostly he did without a childhood, seemingly rushed straight for midlife crisis after infancy, for he was a boy afflicted with the loss of a favorite toy he never did possess. He was expected to inherit the family business, something to do with organized crime in the west of New Oasis, but ran away from home at fourteen, having considered life by then thoroughly pondered. In a Danish country, he enlisted in the army, which was not one by any definition but in some limited sense of self-proclamation. The revolutionists, they called themselves, followed a set of doctrines that likened them to communists who missed the memo of their phasing out of fashion. Jacques did not understand their ideology, yet he found it agreeable nonetheless to fight for a noble but lost cause. The aftermath of a righteous raid saw all of his comrades dead or arrested, and he, who had made a last stand on the balcony of his residence with his hostage the landlady’s poodle, demanded his party’s manifesto be heard by at least seventy four people or else (he wagged an unplugged electric shear) the world would say good-bye to the poor creature’s curly coat. This arranged, he recited the manifesto quite passionately but failed to enlighten the seventy three law-abiding citizens and a dressed-up dakimakura. Once the poodle was released as promised, he was sent to a mental asylum, where he spent the next three years and six days in retirement from life’s turbulence.

    Erroneously he was discharged on a New Year's Day at the good humor of the asylum’s president who had recently experienced a satori. “This is the night and we are all in the woods of life,” the president said and sent him away. Even as the door closed behind him, Jacques could still hear the sobbing of the president and the accompanied musical of a silent movie whose original negatives the world had lost in a fire many decades prior, the very ones that had been recently found forgotten in the institute’s storehouse.

    Without a penny to his name nor a desire to return to his family whose faces he could no longer recall, Jacques wandered into the concrete jungle of New Oasis and met a fool. The fool was angry that everyone was laughing at his joke. This striking him as foolish, Jacques enquired and was told it was no joke but a real theatre troupe where only men may be allowed to act, “Just like when those plays were written!”

    Jacques thought the idea was wonderly stupid and so enquired further if the troupe would see him fit for employment. The fool asked if he was daft and lacking in comprehension, for only men meant only men, and though Jacques was perhaps one of the most handsome ladies the fool had met, a lady is by definition no man. Amused by this innocent mistake, Jacques added further to this confusion with the delivery of a lengthy speech to prove that ladies are in fact men, and gentlemen women; that originally it was not the man’s rib that made the woman but the bone of mother earth thrown over Pyrrha’s shoulder which spawned man as we now know; and many such incoherent anecdotes, before drawing the curtain to the lark with the capital and graphic revelation of his gender.

    The audition day found Jacques first as a haunting Lady Macbeth, then an abysmal Rosalind, and afterward an even worse Cleopatra. In the last role, however, the very last scene demanded by the judges, he who had always been in melancholy sang a light-hearted song, and he who had always been a sullen boy drew to the crescendo of Ophelia’s rapture. And all wept.

    In this amateur theatre of mostly gay men, he acted, lived, hurt, be hurt, thought, bethought. Be loved. And though indeed was loved intimately he never reciprocated but as someone else. Though he laughed, it was never for himself but by and for another’s mirth. And for a time he was content with being invented ideas of playwrights long dead. There was plenty of struggle in tragedies to lose himself completely, enough borrowed emotions to fill his lack. But even those predictably grew stale, and all the lives he had lived on stage began to run into each other, merged and mixed, dissolved and absolved, until all that was left was a reincarnated mess. Now an outlet must be found to discharge his emptiness. So he sought new risks, fresh dangers and things besides. Until at last on a reckless night, he found the gateway to a new world of organized chaos, of purchased avarice and aspirations baser than sex and violence: money.

    RELATIONSHIPS
    TBA
 
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  • sable serpents
    ¡ A M A L G M !
    Frankie Tucker
    LEGAL NAME(S)
    Byrne/Iris Tucker
    AGE(S) & BIRTH(S)
    32 (19/08/92) || 18 (21/02/05)
    ALIAS(ES)
    'Frankenstein.'
    'Stitches.'
    GENDER
    ?
    HEIGHT | WEIGHT
    6'2" (187 cm) | 155 lbs (70 kg)
    GANG & RANK
    Veteran of the Sable Serpents
    ACTIVE SINCE
    Jan 30th, 2015
    REPUTATION
    Undead psycho.
    Are you ready, Teddie?
    Home District
    North District
    GENERAL DESCRIPTION
    Everyone wants, with every beat of their bloated heart, everyone strives for something. A goal. To give meaning to their day by day. And yet, everyone ends up trading purpose, giving ends. At some point, all for a work-shy life. Unfulfilling. Growing complacent, wrathful. Making a handful of stupid, impulsive mistakes— end up dying old and rotten. Bleeding. Moaning. Groveling. Waning.

    Useless.

    Frankie doesn’t bother themselves with finding a meaning to life. They’re all set; goals don't matter. All they want is to see people squirm. Sniffle-cry like a bunch of tit-wanting toddlers who'll never get a lick of any. The awe-inspiring jargon about the true meaning of life, such a thing crumbles apart when put up to zoom on the magnifying glass. Meaningless words, something plastered on the back of thousands of magazines across the world. At the end of the day -

    She just wants to fight because she likes to fight.

    He just wants to live because he likes watching her fight .

    Nothing more. Nothing else. No motive. No reason.
    TL ; Deceptively lithe || Thin-frame glasses || Dental braces || Stitched body ; DR

    In place of tar, Frankie's body is covered in skin.

    Tall, lanky, and with a rock solid frame— a sleeper build. Under baggy clothes, a twig on harsh winds, looking to snap. Donning tight-fitted, sporty clothes, Frankie's chiseled neck-down to the ankles.

    Many have described that regular wide-grin— showing those ironclad chompers of theirs— and wheezing laugh as disgusting, carrying this spine-rattling tone with it. Eyes narrow, deep black with the irises so thin you could swear they're blind like a bat. Hair pale, long and jumbled at the top, cascading down neck-length. Frankie's got the mindless, room-searching gaze and the heavy twitch of an addict. Pupils perpetually dilated, madly jolting around. Four-eyes when they're not at work; always wearing the same thin-framed prescription glasses.

    frankie has two arms :trollface:
    PERSONALITY
    At what angle does your face stop looking human? How far away do you have to be for it to become unrecognizable? If someone were to snap a picture at that same angle, at that same distance, would you look upon your own visage and find it alien? Would you just stare blankly, shrug your shoulders?

    In the deepest inseam, across the intricate weave of bones— somewhere, down to the innermost marrow— are you someone else?

    Someone you don't know?

    TL ; Sociopath || Immoral || Sadistic || Dissociative Identity Disorder ; DR

    Cords get pulled. Strings go untethered. Pins are trailblazed. On the day by day, something changes; everything changes. A mundane, boring world’s a kindness often taken for granted by most. Frankie doesn’t humor those changes; their world is unchanging.

    Outwardly imposing figure, someone not regularly sought out by their acquaintances. Lucky them— lucky them— they’re always watching. Like a quiet shadow, looking out for when their frail, pathetic selves pour and bleed out, licking the sweet streaks of red off their fingers once they manage to get a sip. Laughing, cackling as they devour them whole. Everyone’s an appetizer for them, if they’re not then they will be. At some point. So long as they can get a good laugh out of you, you’re interesting. Ready to be spun up like a wind-up toy.

    But people aren’t that funny nowadays, right?

    They're boring, they're pointless, nothing but brain-rotting spectacle for the idle mind, a disgrace in the unchanging, perfect world of theirs. Furless, ugly apes. Thrill junkies with nerve-ends wry and dulled by the cheapness of their mundane lives, with their short highs and their vast lows. An endless, frantic, horrid scene. Without horizon. Without end.

    Nasty creatures. Though creatures they can quantify. Predict. That's why they're funny. Frankie's withdrawn from them, hangs among the crowd, invisible to prying eyes, content with just listening in, to watch in silence. Like they were fire ants in a worldwide formicarium, Frankie peers over them, beyond the glass. Rap, tap— tapping at the enclosure and watching them scurry in fear. Funny little helpless creatures.

    Inwardly, there is a boy, and that phantom cling of his. Sometimes the boy wishes he could be a worker ant, helpless like the rest. That his exemption wouldn't exclude him from attempting to connect with the ants, mimic them as best he can. The boy picks his favorite ants, walks alongside them without them even knowing. Maybe hoping that this connection would manifest, go tangible, have weight.

    Deeper within, there’s a woman, one who’s grown tired of the world. Grown as ugly as all the pathetic little ants. Running on thrills, the fervor of combat and the adrenaline spike when faced with it. As if nothing really mattered— intangible, weightless.

    Together, this boy and this woman.

    Together they are decadence incarnate, wearing the flesh of the dead.

    • They tend to rake a tongue through their braces when excited.
    • They find cat posting accounts on the gram to be 'downright pornographic.'
    • They don't call anyone by their names, it's either 'Bitch', 'Pig', or any variation of the two. No matter who they're talking to (Aside from the few exceptions).
    • They go to their sister Melody's at 3:00 PM, sharp, for their mandatory PB&J sandwich. Every day of the week.
    • They only stalk Teddie from monday to friday, because weekends are for rest.
    • She has Thalassophobia//He has Katsaridaphobia
    • They both take the tomato slices out of their WcBurgers
    HISTORICAL BIOGRAPHY
    download (6).jpg

    This is an unfinished, unnecessarily long, and incredibly incoherent pile of word vomit that I gave up on.
    No, I'm (probably) not finishing it either
    Aug 19, 1992 |- Iris & Byrne -| Dec 27, 2014

    They say in the good book that the first, original human sin was trust. And maybe Iris had done wrong in trusting her parents to know better. After all, a parent is akin to God in a child’s eyes. Maybe she didn’t know better.

    Life was harsh. Uncaring.

    The most prevalent aftertaste of Iris’ early days was the smell of hard, liquid poison— cheap liquor stirred in a glass, leaving a wet ring on the kitchen counter. That was the only thing she remembered from Phil. With Queenie, the only thing that came to mind were a good mix of even harder vein-melters. She would see a lot of Giggle juice, Hooch, Felix, Snoopies, Opie— all those things the bigger kids in the neighborhood would gossip about, adult things. Strewn around the house. They remember stirring up Phil’s drink, watching the translucent whirl inside the glass.

    There was something up and hanging around in the air. A plague, a disease carried on boatfly. Made the crucial seem unimportant— rotted minds. People were numb in the spirit. Like a quiet heatstroke, it slowly evaporated whatever remained of the walm of common sense, and at some point, the fumes started getting to Iris herself.

    A couple of years into the vanishing of the walm, at her early sevens, Iris grew rageful, white-knuckled. Like a raging bull; the matador held the red flag all the way up to the horizon, she didn’t wait to rush to it. Anger, stretching out, again and again. Stretching out for miles. Hatred for her father. Hatred for her mother. Hatred for her older siblings.

    This is when she set up the foundations for her own gang, formed by her true brothers and sisters, just nearing her double digits, shy of her pre-teen angst. She'd figured out the trade for these adult things that had a vice grip on her own parents, caught wind of the pretty penny that a grown adult would pay for them, knew how easy it was to take them by force from the dope pusher working the corners of the neighborhood. It started with just her and a hand-count of friends. She was the brains, another dealt with the trade, and the last was an HP willing to lay hands on one of the bagmen.

    They were a merry band of thieves, closest she'd gotten to a semi-functional family.

    She kept most of their pitiful earnings to herself, save for the few hiccups with Petra and James when they got too pushy.

    It wasn't much later, when the walm had gone thoroughly dry, that another mouth came to eat up what little they had. Everyone, even Iris herself, knew that Queenie should've settled for two children, and that she'd likely tried to do so; but if Iris was a mistake, then they didn't know what that black-tar mess was. They called it Teddie; she called him brother.

    He was too scalding to hold dear with both hands, like many things in the world.

    This is when she sinned again, she trusted her younger siblings.

    Iris didn’t know better.

    The new additions to the family were special, all three of them. The youngest of the three, Byrne, wasn't normal, he wasn't human. He was something else.

    He didn't cry when he was born, didn't make a sound for years after, not until Iris figured out how to make him speak. He moved funny, like he had to put the conscious effort to swing his legs, get the feel for his own limbs. His expression never changed, not unless the wind slid against him too harshly, then his teeth would churn, he'd wince. He didn't need cleaning, rarely needed to eat, and he could lift things twice his size. He was ‘a plant that'd decided to grow two legs’, a 'human string bean', according to James.

    Byrne was not human.

    He would've been left alone to be forgotten in a corner if it'd come down to Queenie and Phil, and he was, for a long while. When the both of them passed, Iris was the only one who took it upon herself to watch over the kid. Accommodate herself to him. In his own way, she supposed, he was like her. He just didn't know any better.

    They were inseparable, everywhere she went, he was there at her side. A shadow, idly following along.

    Byrne was stretching and upping the legs, getting used to his own balance, just as the situation in their household was at its shakiest. Unlike his siblings, he had nothing but still airs held up at the skull— quiet and unfocused. A concerning thing, surely, for a child his age. But nothing the family would care to look into. The foundations for a proper child weren’t there at all, but he’d learned a thing or two. Picked up form out of his sister Melody’s approach to life, the only sweet source of tenderness in his bleak world. Byrne learned to turn the other cheek, to always be kind, to work the thankless job.

    They would slap the shit out of you again, they wouldn’t change their mind— but you’re the bigger man in the end. So had Iris told him.

    She never taught him how to hit back when he needed to.

    Neither of them knew any better.

    Jan 1st, 2015 |- ? ? ? -|

    It was on the back of the local print for a good long while.

    In the obituary’s section, old and jaded, forgotten. The word moved through the grapevine, did it quick, and those who chased the thread found themselves at the foot of their ashes. It wasn’t seen as a tragedy at the time. No, it was celebrated. Some, spiteful dogs the lot of them, still spit at their empty graves from time to time, mouthing their curses, rejoicing. The gang that had terrorized their neighborhood was now burning in hell.

    Justice was served. The Tucker gang was gone, the Serpents had devoured them. It was the talk of the town for weeks.

    When the festering, tireless humdrum of the gathering plain-folk had settled, when the world had forgotten about them. That’s when they were born.

    To the after-roast of hellfire, to the taste of burnt flesh, gone cold and flaky. To reverberating drums in the sky and a thousand-fold wailings. To the gnashing and gnawing of the flames, and the writhe of red roots. Twisting bodies to shape, etching them together.

    December 31st, new years eve. The leftover, forgotten bodies shambled back from their maggot-eaten rest. Three days left to drown in their own ashes, now hundreds of lights unfolded before their eyes. And they were revenant spirits, come to haunt the living.

    Blood drip, drip— dropped— and they rose from it. Bare, stripped naked for the world to see. Embers and ash, clung to a dozen figures. Bending, turning like a tube man, and the child of a contortionist’s disgrace; they twisted together. Limbs cracked; the roots bound them together.

    They were one now.

    The world was oozing, basting to shape just like them. And they inspected every imperfect crease, felt the hum of uneven teeth sighing wind in the hollow of their mouth. They’d crawled from the remains of foreign, burnt skin, a child leaving the womb. Not knowing how to touch, how to feel proper. The one thing they knew is how to hate.

    They threw their arms out at the pale moon, renewed, laughed until they couldn’t bear the burn in their throat; it was a new year. The people crawled like nasty worms, but they were resolute, that January 1st.

    They knew they’d been blessed; they had a new year’s resolution, too.

    That night, the bodies of the entire Tucker Gang were never found.

    That night, the dead roamed the streets. Looking for revenge.

    They would start with the snakes, slowly. They would find him, make him crawl like any other worm.

    No matter how long it took, they would see Teddie squirming beneath their feet.

    RELATIONSHIPS

    ✩ ⋆⸜ 。°🎧Melody Tucker🎧°。 ⋆⸜✩ - Their one and only source of reprieve; sweetness in a cruel, uncaring world. They care for their sister dearly (they do not pay her rent).

    ✩°。 ⋆ Angúo ⋆ 。°✩ - Little rat. Frankie holds no grudges against him, even if he was quick to abandon the gang when it became convenient for him to do so (they also don't pay him rent).

    ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ Cassidy Tucker ˚ʚ♡ɞ˚ - Their adorable little niece, Frankie loved her since they first laid eyes on her. They've spoiled her young; she knows that whatever she needs, Frankie's got her. Dad came back angry from work? Aunt Iris will have a chat with him. Mom's taking too long to pick her up from school? Uncle Byrne's coming with his cool bike. They would do anything for her (they have given her their entire wallet).

    Teddie Tucker - Murderer.

    James Tucker - Dog

    Petra Tucker - Worm

    Carlisle Tucker - Hell spawn.

    Eliza - Cockroach.
 
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