Futuristic k e n o p s i a - character sheets

[zara3447]

Application (soft*) Deadline: January 5th
*please have a placeholder post of some sort up on this thread by Jan 5​

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k e n o p s i a — character creation​

The setting in which your characters awaken is inside one of a few dozen Cryosheds within the fictional Australian city of Otway, a combination of laboratory and storage warehouse for the rows and rows of cryopods lining the walls. Of the dozens of slumbering occupants sharing this space, only nine of you appear to have awoken, with no discernable rhyme or reason or pattern to why.

Outside sprawls the overgrown corpse of a metropolis, its ancient manmade structures now devoured by the wilderness and wholly empty of human life. Whatever length of time had passed—decades? centuries?—it has not been enough to wipe clean the geological slate that preluded the end of humanity. The sky is cloudy and still yellow-tinged with ash, not cerulean blue like in the storybook histories of an era long past. At the faintest edge of your hearing, the ocean breaks against the new shoreline, miles inland from where it used to lie.

Despite this, there is something... hopeful, almost, in the damp kiss of humid air against your skin. It's warm and muggy, but not scorchingly hot like you recall from the days—it feels like days, but it's been lifetimes, hasn't it?—before you sank into sleep. Smoke and carbon-grit does not abrade your tender throat when you inhale; it feels strange to do so without the filter of an air mask, to taste the earthy, bitter notes of soil and plant matter on your tongue. It is the same Earth and yet not the same, a palimpsest of progress upon which Nature has overwritten in the absence of man.

When you had first closed your eyes and surrendered to sleep, it was the late 21st century; the current date post-awakening is unknown.

As a reminder from the interest check:

There are no set roles for this RP, and no real limits for character histories. But with that being said, please exercise your judgement during character creation. This setting isn't exactly the safest and cheeriest, and conses will quence. I'm not going to pull DM blows if you're playing a child, for example. We must all be equally terrorized by the plot.

I'm looking to run this for around eight players, and applications will be welcome until the application end date (whenever that may be, I'm envisioning this to be open for at least two weeks?) I'd prefer to have a decently diverse cast, character/personality/background wise, so I'll probably be waiting to extend official invites/acceptances until towards the end of the application period.

— One character per player, please
— Realistic faceclaims and/or written descriptions only
— Coding is not necessary for applications, but it would be nice to have :>
— Discord is needed for the official OOC, eventually

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application form​

Basic Info:
— name, age, gender (& pronouns), sexuality
Description:
— hair, eyes, height, weight/build, scars & mods, faceclaim (if applicable, realistic only), other
Psyche:
— personality (paragraph form preferred but bullet points is acceptable), strengths, weaknesses, fears
History*:
— can be as detailed or as sparse as you'd like it to be, but please tell me 1. who they were and what they did in life before ISEP's Cryo phase, and 2. how they get here, specifically? (ex. are they an Aussie native or not, did they come with their family, do they have loved ones in this Cryoshed with them or maybe a different one in the city/country, etc)
Misc:
— any particular skills or tidbits you'd like to add!

*as a note, additional world lore can be found on the interest check and temp ooc threads, and more will likely be added in the coming days!

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Links to the Interest Check and Temporary OOC​

 

[zara3447]

End of the World

Roses & Revolutions

DM NPC

B

asic Info.

name

Genova Meng

aka

Gen, Gena, Genie, etc

age

28

Gender

Nonbinary

Pronouns

They/Them

Sexuality

Queer

D

escription.

Hair

Dyed pink, straight

Eyes

Dark brown

Height

5'7

Build

Anxious-thin, lanky and pared down in the manner of someone who reads more than they exercise, and exercises more than they sleep

mods

Various tattoos, the most notable of which a crow with a pen in its beak that spans their entire left shoulder. Multiple ear piercings

FC

Fernanda Ly

p

syche.

It's hard to gauge a person's true character in an end-of-times scenario; contrary to popular belief, adversity tends to bring out the worst in people. With that in mind, the general impression Gen gives off is shy, pensive, and agreeable. Palpably anxious, but polite enough to keep it mostly to themself. Intelligent, but too soft-spoken to have a voice in decision making. Obviously a follower, not a leader. Mostly a textbook geek, with a few details that add up oddly. There's a nervous skitter to the way their gaze darts off if you try to catch it that you cannot help but wonder at, juxtaposed against an incongruous confidence that rears its head at the most random moments. The perpetually contemplative look in their dark eyes, like they're always thinking more than they're saying.
— They seem even-tempered, perceptive, and quite capable of problem solving, but also hesitant, anxious, and avoidant of responsibility
— Immediately apparent fears include insects, heights, the dark, and injuries

h

istory

You get the distinct impression that they had rarely in their life ever been the loudest presence in a room, and they certainly aren't getting incredibly chatty now about their personal life in the company of complete strangers. They introduce themself with bare-bone details: Gen, twenty-eight, was a programmer working in New Shanghai pre Big Freeze. Came to Otway, Australia presumably in hopes of making it off-planet in one of the earlier Ark Ship waves, and avoiding the commoner's lottery system of the Chinese metropolises. The keen-eyed observer might notice an ISEP pin among the clutter of pins and patches decorating the worn knapsack they retrieve from their Cryopod footlocker, which could imply something interesting, or mean absolutely nothing at all.

V

ibes.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[parhelion]

• placeholder
• character sheet

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  Angeline "Angie" Cook-Burra

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  #punch this sunshine character, zara D:<

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  # amaia aberasturi

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  ♡coded by uxie♡

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
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  laugh--!

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  scroll

  
  

  Angie

  
  
  
  

  Angie

  
  

  
  
  
  

  ㅎㅎ

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  01.

  
  

  full name

  
  

  
  
  
  

  Angeline Cook-Burra

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  02.

  
  

  nicknames

  
  

  
  
  
  

  Angie, Ange

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  03.

  
  

  age

  
  

  
  
  
  

  26

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  04.

  
  

  sexuality

  
  

  
  
  
  

  pansexual

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  • .
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  • .

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    kookaburra, laugh.

    
    
    
    

    kookaburra sits in the old gum tree, merry merry king of the bush is she;
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
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    visage

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    

    height

    
    

    170cm

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    

    build

    
    

    lean, muscled

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    

    hair colour

    
    

    dark brown

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    

    eye colour

    
    

    hazel

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    

    appearance

    
    

    Straight dark brown hair falls past her shoulders. She rotates through three different hairstyles: loose, high ponytail, or braided. Her brown eyes are warm and inviting, usually twinkling with joy. Generally keeps herself well-presented and neat as best she can, as well as usually favoring more practical attire like pants over skirts or dresses. Her build is lean and well-muscled, muscle gained through years of practiced manual labor.
    

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    

    mods

    
    

    She has various tattoos, mostly stick-and-poke, but a few detailed work pieces. Most of them are small floral designs like wattle, though she does also have a detailed horse and rider on her left bicep. Has her parents names tattooed on her left wrist, in their handwriting. Also has basic stud earrings.
    

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
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    persona

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    

    “𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑤ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝐼 𝑑𝑜 𝑏𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑟𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡. 𝐵𝑒𝑐𝑎𝑢𝑠𝑒 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑑𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑛𝑡. 𝐴𝑛𝑑 𝑎𝑏𝑜𝑣𝑒 𝑎𝑙𝑙, 𝑖𝑡’𝑠 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑. 𝐼𝑡’𝑠 𝑗𝑢𝑠𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡. 𝐽𝑢𝑠𝑡… 𝑘𝑖𝑛𝑑.”​

    
    Her parents say that Angeline Cook-Burra was born laughing. That when she came out of the womb, instead of wailing her first breath, she giggled it instead. What a curious thing, to be born an optimist as a world falls apart around you. And yet, Ange does not seem to struggle with it: she smiles brightly and laughs easy, breaks up the monotony of passing days by marveling in the small miracles.
    
    Her governing worldview is simple: it is better to light a single candle than to curse the darkness, no matter how dark and lonely it gets out there. That does not mean, necessarily, that she should be underestimated as the ditsy, clueless optimist who doesn’t understand how the world spins. Far from it, in fact. Such a philosophy speaks of awareness and creativity: Ange understands fundamentally that darkness does exist, and she understands also that it can be overcome by action, thought and moral discipline so long as one does not fall to prejudice, criticism and bitterness. It is easy to be afraid, but fear is no justification for not acting. Be steady, be brave, be kind.
    
    There is some fundamental, unshakable part of her that realizes the necessity of being a beacon (a fact that has become even more critical since waking from cryo-sleep), in being the strong moral voice that reminds everyone to stay compassionate. To do the right thing even when there are no consequences to doing the wrong one simply because it is the right thing to do. She is a steady head, solutions orientated, the kind of person who doesn't just speak, she acts. If someone's shirtfronting, she's intervening. When a situation demands it, she's absolutely not a pushover; she won't pull her punches when faced with a situation that she deems unethical. No feckless murder, not on her watch.
    
    Her empathy and desire to help others drives much of her decision making, but naturally, virtues pushed too far can become flaws. When turned on their head, these traits can lead her to become vulnerable. Second chances become third chances, and fourths, and fifths. She’s the kind of girl to give and give and give; the one who will always see the best in people and fail to realize how this naivety might cloud her judgement to danger-- potential, after all, is nothing but a what-if when nothing is done to reach for it, and sometimes wolves, even if they wear sheep’s clothing, must be seen for what they are: predators. If the road to hell truly is paved by good intentions, that'll be the only way she'll ever be damned.
    
    - wip
    
    

    "𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘱𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴.
    𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵 𝘐 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘥𝘰.
    𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦, 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘵, 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘪𝘵 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘮𝘦.
    𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘐 𝘢𝘮 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥.
    𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐 𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘐'𝘭𝘭 𝘧𝘢𝘭𝘭.
    𝘚𝘵𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘮𝘦.”​

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    

    virtues

    
    
    

    
    
    

    moralistic

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    compassionate & empathetic

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    kind

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    resilient

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    will see the best in everyone (threat)

    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    

    vices

    
    
    

    
    
    

    uncouth

    
    

    
    
    
    
    
    
    

    stubborn

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    too trusting

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    prone to giving too many chances & not recognizing danger that people can hold

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    strong moral code isn't super flexible

    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    

    strengths

    
    
    

    
    
    

    Being full of whimsy and joy in the world around her, finds the silver lining in every situation

    
    

    
    
    
    
    
    
    

    Trained in various search and rescue techniques

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    Resilient leader with heightened empathetic awareness

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    High pain tolerance & highly athletic

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    Can tie very good knots.

    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    

    weaknesses

    
    
    

    
    
    

    She doesn’t know how to cut toxicity off; she’ll give too many chances for change under the assumption that there is always potential in everyone.

    
    

    
    
    
    
    
    
    

    Occasionally overbearing: she’s used to stepping up to be a leader, so she might clash heads with similarly dominating forces, especially if there are differing moral perspectives.

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    Cannot lie to save her life.

    
    

    
    
    
    

    Terrible at untying knots.

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    Cannot do maths. She's a lover, not a mathematician.

    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    

    fears

    
    
    

    
    
    

    Inadequacy. Being unable to save someone, letting them down in the moments when they are relying on her. Or worse, doing her best, and it still not being enough. Everyone she has ever lost on rescue missions haunts her in this way.

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    Being a burden. She has spent so long building herself up as a persona who helps others. She doesn’t much like the idea of the situation being turned on its head: the idea of herself being the damsel who needs to be saved due to injury or otherwise.

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    Hallucinations/Delusions. The idea of being unable to trust her own instincts or her own mind in regards to what is real or not.

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    Eels. D:<

    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    
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    history

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    THE VISION SPLENDID, OF SUNLIT PLAINS EXTENDED

    
    

    
    
    
    

    All of us stand upon the shoulders of giants. This is no less true of Angeline Cook-Burra: to learn of her history, the camera must first pan out to the people who came before her. Namely, her parents Jamie and Clancy.
    
    There is an age old precedent, spawning from years and years of human history: people who have lived off the land for years rarely leave it behind willingly. It is theirs—it is home—even as it crumbles and changes. There is also, naturally, the presiding fact that Australia has always been hostile land to survive in. The rurality of the isolated golden island girt by sea has long been its strength and shortcoming. Australia’s rugged, remote regions have always been a symbol of rugged independence and untapped potential.
    
    Jamie Cook never intended to stay as long as she did. She was many things: a rich city girl, a journalist with a minor in Cultural Anthropology, and possessing of a martyr complex— some instinct bigger than herself that demanded that she try to save people from themselves. How naive she was. How little she understood of the world before she actually ventured out into it. She had little experience with the truth of outback reality, and all the sensibilities of a city-bred insufferable.
    
    But nonetheless, she chased the stories in the turn of the world. Jamie ventured out of civilization to report as part of a government initiative to understand, educate and overcome the peoples of the land’s stubborn refusal to comply with literally anything. Good old Rural ‘Straya, and their natural inclination towards authority issues ‘cause fuck the government and fuck the white-collars.
    
    In the summer of 2169, while en-route to a remote cattle station in remote Queensland with her team, a sudden flash flood swept through after a particularly violent storm. Cracked riverbanks which had been dry for months quickly gave way beneath torrents of water —thanks consequences of Aussie drought—and in the ensuing chaos, she was swept up into rushing gray water and stranded far in a dangerous, unfamiliar land. Too stubborn to give in, Jamie fought her way on to solid ground,
    
    Help came in the form of Clancy Burra: a drover who had spent most of his life keeping cattle alive amongst the unforgivable landscape of Western Queensland. He had been stringing his herd of livestock past the flooded river when he came across the stranded journalist and without hesitation rode to her aid.
    
    Clancy was a man who had seen it all: floods, droughts, fires, all the wilderness that the rugged terrain had to offer, and he never lost his steady, unshakable humor in the face of it.
    He cut through the rain and mud on horseback to become her savior. Clancy was a rough-and-tumble figure with a wide-brimmed hat pulled low over his brow, his face weathered by years of high sun and wind. Years of experience had taught him how to read his beloved land’s wild moods— and that there is no point fearing nature. Nature does not fear you back. Nature has no emotions. It is merely a force that endures and erodes.
    
    Over the next week as the flood waters gradually receded, the two (and also the sheep, and his horse, and the three herding kelpies) survived with each other. Clancy cared for her in ways that she hadn’t expected. Demonstrating quiet resilience and bright new perspectives she’d never perceived, Jamie found herself wooed by the juxtaposing simplicity and depth of the man who had saved her life. He loved the outback. Loved the wilderness and the freedom of it, found beauty in the sun-scorched plains and the flowing rivers. She found herself embarrassed by her own ignorance.
    
    Clancy offered her no promises. They were from two different worlds after all, and it was an unspoken absolute that he would never leave his wilderness behind to join her in her civilization. He would also never ask her to stay. In fact, he let her leave. When the flood waters cleared and the path home became clear, the two rode into the closest town, and for a time the journalist left the Outback behind. Near death experiences tend to freak out city girls. But the city just didn’t feel the same. There was a restless ache in her bones, and an insatiable curiosity, a hovering what-if.
    
    The next plane took her back out — an impulse decision, but one that Jamie never once regretted. The two of them married in a small ceremony that may well be the only time Clancy Burra had ever worn a formal suit in his life.
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    AND AT NIGHT, THE WONDEROUS GLORY OF EVERLASTING STARS

    
    

    
    
    
    

    Three years afterwards, Angeline Cook-Burra was born: a laughing child grown amongst the scraggly desert grasses, the tall-reaching gumtrees and the oppressive heat of Queensland’s highland brumby country. The blaring ear-splitting song of cicada, wind’s aeolian notes, and the lowing of cattle were the soundtrack of her free youth.
    
    Ange’s formative years were spent on horseback herding and droving cattle across the oppressive landscape of a bush country cracked and desertified by climate change – and like all the drovers who came before her, she’d have not had it any other way. She trailed after her father, mirrored his bright attitude and calm resilience, learned his philosophies and his knowledge of the land. His deep rooted love of the land and his kindness embodied itself firmly in his young daughter.
    
    But she was not born to be a farmer forever. It was, perhaps unsurprisingly, the story of Jamie and Clancy's first meeting that inspired her to go formally into search-and-rescue when she hit her late teens. There will always be people who disregard warnings, or who get caught out in catastrophes (which were, of course, becoming more and more commonplace. A dying world does not die easily. Does not die quietly.)
    
    It is a non-sequitur, then, that there must also be people that step up to save them, and Angie resiliently decided that she would be one of them. Clancy Cook-Burra told her once that the biggest threat to the world had not been climate change itself, or any of the various consequences of it. The biggest threat had been the assumption that someone else was going to step up to save it. That someone else would take on that sacred responsibility of caring for others and the world around them, and on a global scale, such complacency had lent itself to global disaster.
    
    For a time, she travelled around, working on various national parks and in disaster relief. She picked up the skills of the trade, learning survival skills, first aid, navigation, tracking, amongst all the other various search-and-rescue techniques. Difficult terrain stopped phasing her, became a challenge she embraced with boundless joy, but one that never let her forget: at the end of the route, there was always someone to be saved. There was a life held in her hands, a living beating heart that she could not let down. What a terrifying, weighted honor to bear.
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    AND IN PLACE OF LOWING CATTLE, I CAN HEAR THE FIENDISH RATTLE

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    Australia’s lottery system wasn’t as outwardly corrupt as other countries were, but it was very much still a race. It was Jamie Cook-Burra that encouraged her daughter into it. Ever the more practical of Ange’s parents, or perhaps it was simply her city girl roots showing themselves again. Clancy adored the rural landscape, didn’t much fancy the rat race of competing for his place on a fancy spaceship that may or may not have held answers.
    
    But that’s the problem with the world falling apart around oneself: even the bravest begin to wonder what comes after the end. Even the bravest falter in wonder of upcoming calamity. Had her father not been finally won over by Jamie’s convincing, perhaps Angie wouldn’t have been either—but it is difficult, to see your heroes falter, and there was no one she quite idolised more than her own father.
    
    The Australian bush is durable, but it is not infallible. Bushfires scorched it. Floods increased, cracked and dry ground refusing to allow the water to sink in. Working the land and keeping cattle had long been gruelling and difficult to sustain, but it soon became downright impossible. Her parents were forced to migrate into already packed cities, moving temporarily into Otway housing. Angie joined them.
    
    Angie would have just as willingly gone to a later cryofreeze as she did an early one; there was still work to be done on Earth. Still people who needed to be saved, still reasons to stay. But her name was called, and so she went. Habitable planets light years away would pose threats to survival too: the workforce amongst them would need adaptable folx, and she was nothing if not adaptable to the situations that life threw at her.
    
    She would not die on Earth, clinging stubbornly to times gone by. Or so she thought.
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    OF THE TRAM WAYS AND THE BUSES MAKING HURRY DOWN THE STREET

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
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    Light One Candle

    
    
    
    

    Nathan Whitehead

    
    
    
    

    
    

    
    
    

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    
    
    

    
    
    

    connections

    
    
    
    

    misc.

    
    

    
    
    
    
    

    • aaaaaaa
    • aaaa

    • 
      
      
      

      connections

      
      

      
      
      
      

      
      
      
      

      
      
      
      

      
      
      
      

      
      
      

      name here

      
      
      
      

      Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras ullamcorper erat purus, quis mollis metus auctor vel. Duis eget luctus justo. Donec aliquet fermentum porttitor. Morbi quis dapibus odio, at viverra leo. Integer ut dictum lacus, nec congue odio. Nullam sapien ante, interdum ut mattis eget, varius ac justo. Pellentesque eu ante nec nibh vulputate ullamcorper.
      

      
      
      

      
      
      

      
      
      
      
      

      
      
      
      

      
      
      
      

      
      
      

      name here

      
      
      
      

      Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Cras ullamcorper erat purus, quis mollis metus auctor vel. Duis eget luctus justo. Donec aliquet fermentum porttitor. Morbi quis dapibus odio, at viverra leo. Integer ut dictum lacus, nec congue odio. Nullam sapien ante, interdum ut mattis eget, varius ac justo. Pellentesque eu ante nec nibh vulputate ullamcorper.
      

      
      
      

      
      
      

      
      
      
      

      
      
      
    • 
      
      
      

      misc.

      
      

      
      
      
      

      
      
      
      

      
      

      About her name

      
      

      Yes, she gets the "kookaburra" observation a lot. It's delibrate. Her parents chose to hyphenate their surnames specifically for the pun.
      

      
      

      
      
      
      

      
      
      
      

    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    
    

    
    
    

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  ♡coded by uxie♡
  
  

 

[mythcals]

• ✶
• heretic

• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  law mayhew.

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  heretic.

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  ♡coded by uxie♡

  
  
  
  
  nearly done!! gonna add some specific stuff to meet the app form and that should be it!!​
• 
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  ACHILLES.
  
  

  
  
  
  

  artist

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  HERETIC.

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  I.

  
  

  it's not what you are,

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  name

  
  
  

  Lawrence Spencer Mayhew.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  nicknames

  
  
  

  Laurie was a nickname used by his older sister when they were younger and had a better relationship. But when they got older and their relationship got worse she stopped calling him by it, resigned to the simple coldness of his name. Law sometimes finds himself looking for her voice in quiet spaces, hopelessly wishing she's somewhere out there. That she would call him Laurie again and they could have a better relationship. Wishful thinking soured by reality. Law was first used by his grandmother but it tends to stick around since it was easy to just call him a shorter version of his name. Quick, easy, to the point. Save your breath. He usually introduces himself simply as Law, as Lawrence is a name that makes him feel his age.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  age

  
  
  

  ERMMM.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  date of birth

  
  
  

  October 24th.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  place of birth

  
  
  

  Newport, Wales.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  gender & pronouns

  
  
  

  Cisgender male. He/him.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  sexuality

  
  
  

  Bisexual.

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  II.

  
  

  it's just what you did.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  physicality

  
  
  

  6'1". He has a complicated relationship to appearances, to looks. As a child, Lawrence's features were striking, but not in the way that other children were described as ‘cute’ or ‘adorable’. His sharp eyebrows gave him a perpetually intense expression, one that made him look more serious than his years, more aggressive. It was a look that adults found unsettling, and other children found intimidating. His piercing brown eyes, set beneath those dark brows, were often described as too knowing for someone so young, keeping others at a distance, leaving young Law as isolated as he could possibly be, until he was to eventually find his people. He never had the luxury of being seen as innocent or harmless. His looks were a disadvantage, a burden that made him seem unapproachable or untrustworthy to those who didn’t know him—teachers would often misinterpret his expressions as defiance or insolence, when in reality, he was just a kid trying to navigate a world that saw him as a threat. Eventually, maybe he accepted that if the world was going to see him that way, then he might as well use the intimidation to his advantage—he learned early on that his appearance could work against him, and so he leaned into it, adopting an aura of cool detachment and aggressive leadership that matched the intimidating look others expected. Rule by fear.
  
  But time has a way of changing things. As Law grew older, his features matured, and he managed to grow into his more intimidating qualities, to the point that they were almost… becoming. His features balanced out more, and all of a sudden, where once his appearance had been a barrier and a means of treating him like something evil, it was now something else entirely—something that others found compelling, even attractive. Despite this ‘glow up’, Law struggles to comprehend the idea that anyone might find him attractive. He’s spent so many years seeing himself as the outsider, the one who didn’t fit in partially because of the way he looked, that the sudden shift in perception is almost jarring. His traits are still there, striking as they are, but now they’re seen by many as almost desirable. But Law isn’t someone who placed much stock in superficial things, and the attention feels like an enigma to him—he has lived too long in the shadows of suspicion and judgement to suddenly embrace being someone that is at least ‘easier on the eyes’ than most.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  faceclaim

  
  
  

  Thomas LeMaigre.

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  III.

  
  

  don't hang up the phone.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  psyche

  
  
  

  Law is fragile. Not like a flower, but like a bomb. Others don’t know when he’s going to snap next, he’s unpredictable– anything can make him tick. It’s like you have to walk on eggshells when speaking to Law, he doesn’t take disrespect lightly and will not allow anyone to tarnish his reputation (don’t tell him it’s already tarnished, though), no matter how close you are to him. The man is like a winter’s night. His tone of voice never shy away from being cold and unnerving. Law's words are calculated and carry weight, he never says anything for a meaningless reason. Words hurt and last longer than any scar could, the lick of a hot sword. Law Mayhew is a fucking asshole if you asked anyone. It’s safe to say nobody likes him, and even his ‘friends’ would admit this. He’s an asshole, and he thrives in it. He likes seeing how much people hurt at his words, and likes to push people’s buttons as much as he can.
  
  With a gaze so sharp that it could make the most powerful people crumble, Law knows how to get what he wants. Calculative, like a serpent poised beneath the undergrowth. Law is precise, watching the world as though counting each grain of sand in an hourglass, ever aware of time's slow erosion. He treads carefully, captivating without ever descending into excess, for to do so would be to ruin. There’s always a barrier when talking to him, and an emotional barrier that he doesn’t let anybody cross. He has friends, or had, rather, but he would keep them at a distance.
  
  To Law, life is a show– he feels the constant need to perform. Despite not wanting to admit it, Law is a people pleaser, and often needs the reassurance, the warmth of the spotlight. There is an aching to be noticed, to be appreciated. Seen beyond the cold exterior, as thick as it may be. Law is haunted by the lingering questions: What will I do when faced with my inevitable fallibility? And what becomes of me when my role has been fulfilled? He wrestles silently with his own humanity, clenched teeth grinding against the iron weight of destiny, striving to transcend his mortal limits as if divinity coursed through his veins. Self-doubt is a cruel mistress. His aloof aura surrounding him allows Law to effortlessly pull people into his orbit, a cycle he cannot seem to stop– or beyond that, doesn’t want to stop. Deep down, Law is drowning in his own sorrow of the person he once was, and the person he is now. He’s in someone else’s skin, each day he wakes up to be someone else.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  traits

  
  
  

  — secretive, skeptical, loyal, observant, intelligent, competitive, judgmental, anxious, calculated, fact-oriented, cold, and introverted.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  IV.

  
  

  i love you to death.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  history.

  
  
  

  * TW: mentions of m*rder and s*icide
  From the moment he could walk, Lawrence Mayhew was taught that the world was a battlefield, and only the strong could survive. The first words whispered into his ear were not ones of comfort or love, but of strategy and conquest—“The world owes you nothing, Lawrence,” his father had murmured, voice cold and unyielding. “You take what you can, or it will be taken from you.” These words became a mantra, echoing through the halls of his dimly lit home, to shape the man that he would become. He was too young to understand the weight of those words back then, to even register them, but over time they were sowed into his subconscious, no room for softness in his world, no space for innocence.
  
  In Law's early years, his life was a crucible of harsh lessons and brutal discipline. Every action and decision was scrutinised through the lens of survival and dominance, and his father enforced a strict regimen of physical and mental training, pushing his son beyond his limits in the pursuit of strength and resilience. He was harder on Law than his mother because it was his legacy, an expectation to carry on the family name, and that carried great expectations, because it was his son who he now passed on to the job of being a leader of rebellion. MayCorp Industries is- or rather, was largely recognized in the final years before cryposleep as one of the few companies against ISEP. Even in his grown years, Law would never come to understand why his family did the things they did. His father had always been a difficult man, hardheaded, retribution the hand that guided the Mayhew family to Australia. The guise of escape, sweet relief, dangled in the face of Lawrence like a child. Death was never their final escape, cowardice on the hands of a man who found it smart to put a gun to his head than abandon the planet he call home.
  
  Law always wondered if this was some tongue in cheek way of getting back at him, all those years of raising him, every slap on the wrist, every snap of the ruler. Living with himself, and himself alone, should have been punishment enough.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  TLDR

  
  
  

  ■ Law is/was the son of Maverick Mayhew, a man who lead an anti-ISEP corporation (MayCorp) that pre-ISEP functioned as a company that assisted in protein research once animals such as cows began to dwindle. Later, MayCorp began fighting fruitlessly against ISEP, convinced that the it was corrupted beyond its surface, encouraging people to fight to remain in their homes regardless of an encouraged evacuation. Law spent much of his life apprenticing his father, and had a nameless position essentially functioning as his father's assistant.
  ■ The Mayhew family arrived in Australia after Maverick has seemingly turned a new leaf, wanting to avoid the overcrowding occurring in the United States (where they lived at the time). However, Maverick had other plans for the family, a murder-suicide plan he enacted in their hotel room without Law. (The possible reasons why will be explored in the story, but this is simply the groundwork. Law himself must grapple with the idea that he has been abandoned, not once, but now twice.)
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  V.

  
  

  eternal return, eternal return.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  ♡coded by uxie♡

 

[demonology]

• X
• character sheet

• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  Now is the time.

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  curse god and die.

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  ♡coded by uxie♡

  
  
• 
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  THE ROAD
  
  

  
  
  
  

  artist

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  EMILIANO.

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  I.

  
  

  quote

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  name

  
  
  

  Emiliano Angel Rapido.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  nicknames

  
  
  

  Emil, Emi (by his wife, Pilar)

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  age

  
  
  

  Forty-one.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  date of birth

  
  
  

  birth date

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  place of birth

  
  
  

  place of birth

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  gender & pronouns

  
  
  

  cis man. he/him

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  sexuality

  
  
  

  sexuality.

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  II.

  
  

  quote quote .

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  physicality

  
  
  

  phys description

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  played by

  
  
  

  Javier Bardem

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  aesthetics

  
  
  

  pinterest

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  style

  
  
  

  fashion sense
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  occupation

  
  
  

  occupation
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  habits

  
  
  

  habits

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  traits

  
  
  

  [ + ] positive
  
  [ - ] negative
  
  [ -/+ ] neutral

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  likes + dislikes

  
  
  

  [ LIKES ] likes.
  
  [ DISLIKES ] dislikes.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  fears + ailments

  
  
  

  [ FEARS ] fears.
  
  [ AILMENTS ] ailments.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  wordbank

  
  
  

  wordbank
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  III.

  
  

  quote quote quote.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  summary

  
  
  

  summary.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  history

  
  
  

  history
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  relationships.

  
  
  

  relationships
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  themes + explorations.

  
  
  

  themes.
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  IV.

  
  

  quote quote quote quote
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  ♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Viper Actual]

BULWARK SECURITY INT. // EMPLOYEE DOSSIER // FOB OTWAY //LOADING REGISTRY...

DOSSIER BSI-INT-SP-K-443-91
TEMPLAR, FLYNN H.
​

//NAME: FLYNN HARRY TEMPLAR
//KNOWN ALIASES: NONE
//AGE: 41
//SEX: MALE [HE/HIM]
//ORIENTATION: HETERO

//PHYSICAL DESCRIPTION:
Facial features: Dark/grey hair, average length. Brown eyes.
Weight; 86kg, 189cm, muscular/fit build.
Identifying marks; Scars, shrapnel, left shoulder, bicep and upper back. Military ID-tattoo right wrist, unit marking right bicep.

//PSYCHOLOGICAL EVALUATION:
"Prior to his full-time contract as a military contractor at Bulwark Security International- in accordance to ISEP's External Security Act, paragraph 15- Flynn served both full-time and part-time with a number of private security, military and police entities across Europe, Africa and Southeast Asia. A number of these assignments (if not all) included suppressive action against local civilian populace in war-torn or otherwise impoverished/defunct regions to protect or to enforce the control of several private companies and/or governments.

Records from this service alongside eye-witness accounts, media reports and UN investigations show that a staggering amount of lethal force was employed with little to no remorse from Flynn or his associates. Furthermore, Bulwark's own evaluation has deemed Flynn's empathy to be at an alarming low score in tests while tactical reviews show a near-total blind obedience for superiors and their orders.

Flynn has mentioned a troubled childhood, often left feeling isolated when growing up in rural England as an only child to a senior-level officer of the British Royal Air Force. Left to his own devices, Flynn has developed a natural resilience and stubborness that has served him well- alongside a strong lone-wolf mentality because of limited trust in others but himself.

Advanced testing show some anti-social tendencies, in part because of an as of yet unnamed trauma (Flynn refuses to speak about it), and I fear that without a strong guiding hand and rigorous routines he may snap, break or isolate himself altogether." - Dr. Jansen

//SERVICE RECORD AND BACKGROUND:
- Royal Marines, assaulter/breacher, honorably discharged following a investigation into his unit.
- Trident Solutions, private military contractor, resigned. VIP-protection.
- Dynamic Security Inc., private military contractor, resigned. Asset defense.
- S&S Solutions EU, private military contractor, resigned. Riot- and crowd-control.
- Claymore PMC, private military contractor, resigned. Asset seizure.
- Bulwark Security International, private military contractor, CURRENT. Cryoshed protection, ISEP jurisdiction.

Faceclaim: Julian Stone​

 

[heartstringss]

• 1 (x)
• 2 (done!)

• kyrie johnson,

  words words words

  wow more words
• uxie ®
  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  KYRIE JOHNSON,
  a/k/a "KJ"

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  one winged airplane, ryan caraveo

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  face claim

  
  
  

  reece king

  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  pinterest

  
  
  

  click here

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  BASIC INFO​

  — name,
  Kyrie Dane Johnson, goes by KJ or Ky
  — age,
  17 years old (born November 5th and a Scorpio to those it matters)
  — gender (& pronouns),
  Cis-male, he/him
  — sexuality
  Bisexual but more in the sense that it's something he'll "grow into," not exactly where he's at right now.
  
  
  

  ---

  
  
  

  DESCRIPTION:​

  — KJ has black hair with a natural loose/springy curl pattern, which he usually keeps long on the top and short around the back and sides. His eyes are dark brown and have a distinct hooded lid shape with thick but neat-trimmed eyebrows. He stands about 5’11” with a slim/fit build and is strong and sturdy but still slightly awkward and gangling due to the fact his body hasn't finished growing yet. He has a number of scars, most of which have been acquired from the usual teenage boy clumsiness/ foolishness, the most notable from a broken arm he had when he was ~14. He has his septum and both earlobes pierced but no tattoos or other body mods. He was prone to frequent ear infections as a kid which had some complications leading to significant hearing loss which varies on each side and is worse on the right than it is on the left. He knows sign language but honestly doesn't use it much, and has hearing aids but doesn't always like to wear them and will sometimes take them out and just keep them in his pocket instead.
  
  — What's important enough to be in his footlocker? Inside his footlocker is a backpack haphazardly stuffed with these items: his phone, keys and wallet; a few creased photos of loved ones; a change of clothes, including jacket, belt and shoes; an air filtration mask (his mom doesn't let him leave the house without one); and his hearing aids. Most importantly (to him) is also a skateboard.
  
  

  * * a/n: the face-claim is Reece King who is actually a bit older and has tattoos, but i'm de-aging him and not giving KJ any tattoos! i'm not quite comfortable picking an actual teenager or anyone knowingly under 21 for my fc so just use your ~*~imagination~*~ if you don't mind! or only consider Reece's picture's from ~10+ years ago lmao. thanks! :')

  
  
  

  ---

  
  
  

  PSYCHE:​

  — KJ is strong-willed, determined and eager to prove himself. He can be a bit hot-tempered and reactive at times (typical moody-broody teenager) but generally has a pretty good head on his shoulders. He gets good grades and rarely ditches school, always does what he’s told (usually without having to be told twice), and doesn’t like to pick fights. He spends a lot of time out on the streets messing around, as kids often do, and likes to play sports but is not fanatical about any of them besides skateboarding. His teachers regard him as a “promising student” if not “altogether quiet.”
  
  That’s the official version. Beyond the lens, it’s easiest to just say he’s still growing. In fact, KJ had just finished high school when his assigned date for Cryo arrived. Jittery and beyond eager to get out in the “real world” and begin forging his path, he was excited for the future but not altogether certain what he wanted to do with the rest of his life or where exactly he’d end up. It seemed pointless to prepare for college when there was all this uncertainty looming in the future, so once he was done with high school he simply bided his time working with his mom instead. ...Needless to say, he won’t have expected anything of what the future truly has in store for him. Things were supposed to get better, not somehow constantly just worse and worse…
  
  But KJ is nothing if not hardy and resilient; he can roll with the punches and is known for being “stable,” a good kid who hasn't ever caused much trouble–a great equalizer, strong-willed and protective of the ones he loves. He’s sensitive but not fragile, hard as a diamond even under tremendous amounts of pressure. It takes a lot to truly break him, especially being that for starters you have to find some way to get past that hard defensive outer shell... Once you manage to slide past his defenses, though, you'll find that KJ is actually extremely loyal and warmhearted. He can tolerate a lot of bullshit and gives everyone at least one second chance, but once he says you’re done, well, that’s it. Game over.
  
  

  ​

  
  — Strengths
  

  • hardy/resilient
  • fiercely loyal
  • fine-tuned to his emotions and the world around him (sensitive, perceptive)
  • curious, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed
  • strong moral compass
  • agile and fit

  
  — Weaknesses
  

  • hesitant, reserved, judgmental
  • control freak (mostly self-inflicted)
  • has a limited worldview/narrow focus due to age
  • can be reactive and hot-headed, prone to strong emotions and "flying by the seat of his pants"
  • tends to hold grudges, is not incredibly forgiving

  
  — Fears
  

  • loss, rejection, failure, shame
  • giant fucking bugs and crustaceans which, as we know, are basically just big water bugs (whoops, too bad, we're in Australia)
  • choking, asphyxiation, suffocation
  • lack of control
  • slashing/gaping wounds, animal bites, twisted limbs and exposed bone

  
  
  

  ---

  
  
  

  HISTORY:​

  — KJ’s father's family hails from the Caribbean Islands and his mother's family hails from Britain and Ireland. His dad has been removed from the picture for several years, and though the two still called from time to time before KJ went into Cryo, they rarely saw each other anymore in person. His mom went to med school in the UK and later emigrated to Australia seeking a better life for herself and her child (a young KJ, then only 5 years old). Once there, she sought to establish herself enough to finally one day open her own clinic for other refugees and asylum seekers like herself. After ISEP was formed, Mom secured a pod for KJ fairly early on and was supposed to get one for herself at a slightly later date, but in the end she put it off and couldn't bring herself to leave behind her patients. KJ knows the specific pod number that his mother was (initially) assigned to and supposed to be in and likely has it written down somewhere in his belongings in his footlocker, but he has no idea until he wakes up whether she actually got into the pod like she was supposed to or not.
  
  

  Spoiler: mom?

  Potentially the pod got reassigned after she missed her appointment? Could be empty when he finds it, or maybe there’s another person in the cast of those who’ve woken up that wound up there instead? Or something went wrong over the years of Cryoshed abandonment and the machine malfunctioned and the person inside might've liquefied (perished), so whoever is in there now is just completely unrecognizable? Or it's another person altogether and they're still alive but also still in cryostasis. Either way there are no good answers and KJ is bound to freak out!

  
  Dad's fate, comparably, is just as uncertain if not more. For all KJ knows his father could be dead, and how that affects him is, well, equally uncertain. KJ has no other siblings in Australia and although he assumes his father did likely have other children, he has no confirmation of this fact. His feelings for his father are pretty complicated as more likely he'd prefer to just not think of him at all. All of his grandparents still live in the UK (besides one which, like his mother, also fled to Australia but didn't survive long enough to see the launch of ISEP).
  
  Before Cryo, KJ was like any regular kid surviving at the end of the world the best only way that he knew how. He's pretty opinionated but keeps most of his thoughts to himself. One of his most notable qualities is that he doesn't like to see suffering, though at the same time unfortunately he has had to grow accustomed to it as this world is all he's ever known and to say this world has never been particularly soft or gentle would be quite an understatement.
  
  While some kids grew up having to work multiple jobs just to help their family stay afloat, KJ had it pretty lucky in the fact that his mother worked in the medical field where there is no shortage of work as long as you are willing to self-sacrifice. KJ's mom worked incredibly long days and even longer weekends, rarely having time for anything else. They weren't well off in the slightest but somehow always managed to keep the lights on and bills paid. If they were ever close to homelessness or financial ruin, his mother hid it from him pretty well. If KJ had to work a few evenings every now and then to help out, he always would. Anything his mother asked (and even sometimes what she didn't ask), he'd do it in a heartbeat. That's the kind of love they had for each other: their love was deep and unquestionable, strong and true, even if it also maybe had a lot of faults.
  
  
  

  ---

  
  
  

  Misc:​

  — He has naturally quick reflexes, is light on his feet, and has an overall good sense of timing and direction.
  
  — If he'd made it to the Ark and had the chance to start over on another planet, he likely would have pursued a profession in trade-work or gone on to become some type of engineer. He likes to work with his hands and be of use to other people, likes to take things apart and put them back together, likes to work with electronics/machinery and in general loves all forms of building and creating.
  
  — His mother raised him to be compassionate and made sure he knew the importance of caring for other people, but for whatever reason he's just never had an easy time opening up when he himself is struggling. He'd rather feel his pain and be left to his own devices than rely on someone else to help him pick the pieces up and put them back together. The biggest exception to this would have been his mom–for however tough he seems or tries to be, KJ has always, always been a momma's boy. Comparatively, he distrusts older men who might remind him of his father.
  
  — Before Cryo, he helped out at his mom's clinic when needed and was also involved in various community/relief projects. He's not afraid of hard or dirty work and would rather be useful than useless, but since he's young, it's important to note that having that experience doesn't mean he necessarily knows what he's doing in all situations, or that he even has the emotional maturity to always be able to handle what is being put in front of him. He has the willingness to jump into the line of fire, sure, but that's only useful if you also know what to do with yourself once you are there.
  
  — Aesthetic/pinterest board :')
  — Spotify playlist!
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  if you see me editing this 7 million times, no you don't i'm just fine-tuning details ​

 

[Grimm]

Halcyon.

some title here.

01.

02.

03.

• .
• .
• .

• 
  
  

  
  
  
  

  01.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  01

  
  

  
  

  name.

  
  
  

  Eden Xinyi Liang--Mäkinen

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  02

  
  

  
  

  a.k.a.

  
  
  

  Eed (was used by friends) and Xin (what her father would address her as)

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  03

  
  

  
  

  age.

  
  
  

  twenty-seven

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  04

  
  

  
  

  gender.

  
  
  

  female/homosexual; demiromantic

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  05

  
  

  
  

  ethnicity

  
  
  

  finnish, chinese; new zealander

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  visage.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  height.

  
  
  

  5'5"

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  appearance.

  
  
  

  
  With a ballerina's figure and muscle mass coupled with a mixture of soft and sharp features, Eden is a rather quiet beauty in her own right. The freckles sprinkled across her cheeks and nose are one of her more unique markers, growing increasingly noticeable the closer you get into her personal space. Almond eyes are a woodsy hazel displaying both a warm and piercing gaze with the thick brows above them kept as neat as she can manage. The high cheekbones elegantly accent the soft curvatures of her nose and permanently nude blushed kissed lips. Though slender fingers hold a certain grace with their movements, they are strong and resilient with the callouses upon her palms telling stories of hard work, determination, and hope. The hair that sits upon her hair is silky and light, but she carries an abundance of it, making it somewhat manageable. They fall in soft brown waves that are more prominent towards her sun-bleached tips. When Eden ties it up, there are always some wisps that can't be contained so they freely fall at the sides, creating a desirably messy look with no effort.
  
  scars - a ragged thin line up her left calf from slicing it on a rock in Japan while she cleaned up after an earthquake. Multiple faded ones on her hands and arms from different missions and minor accidents growing up. On her lower back is a round scar from a rather pointy rock she fell on when she went hunting for the first time. Her mom's hunting rifle's recoil knocked her off balance.
  
  wardrobe - Eden has always preferred casual, comfortable clothing such as t-shirts, simple long sleeves, baggy sweaters, and sweat pants with sneakers over fashion. With her work, there was no point in ruining good clothes either. If it fits, even if it's a little too big she'll make do with them. She may not look it, but Eden's skincare routine and bathing were her two favorite parts of hygiene. She'll most definitely go mad if she can't clean herself up at least as much as she can before bed but loves to go camping??
  
  cubby - In her belongings, there was the ring her mother gave her made of many small, different-colored tourmaline stones that created a band; an extra pair of clothes that still smelled like home; her beat-up hiking shoes she wore on a daily; and a picture of her family that her father tucked in there. Along with that, her cell phone, wallet, and pocket journal were among the other things.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  faceclaim.

  
  
  

  Kristina Tonteri-Young

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  02.

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  psyche.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  • Stoic, observant, keen; Eden has a calm presence, her sharp and observant gaze taking in every detail of her surroundings. Standing tall, she carries herself with a graceful composure that belies her inner strength. Her features remain mostly unreadable, masking any emotions or thoughts that may be playing out behind her piercing eyes. With each step she takes, there is an air of purpose and determination surrounding her.
  • Warm, selfless, and understanding; Hidden behind her stoic exterior lies a warm, selfless, and understanding woman. However, this very quality also makes her brash in some ways when it comes to her own well-being. The cracks in her façade reveal glimpses of vulnerability, like small breaks in a dam holding back a vast sea of emotion. But she remains steadfast in her determination to always put others before herself, even at the risk of her own safety and happiness. There is a quiet strength in her selflessness, a fire burning beneath the surface that fuels her reckless acts of kindness and compassion. She is both a pillar of unwavering strength and a delicate flower, blooming despite the weight of the world on her shoulders.
  • Conscientious, curious, and intelligent; with a deep understanding of the world around her, Eden is a conscientious and thoughtful person. Her heart guides her with its wisdom, while her mind dissects and analyzes every situation. She relies on her gut instincts to navigate through life's complexities and to do what is right. A true adoration for humanity, nature, and learning fuels her inner fire. Constantly seeking and absorbing knowledge, she is a well-rounded individual with a strong sense of empathy and compassion for others.
  • Hardworking, tense, and naive; despite Eden's tireless efforts and knack for expelling stress through anything involving her hands or psychical movement, she could not escape the constant tension that came with her chosen career path. As a result, she lived in a perpetual state of readiness, always anticipating the next challenge or obstacle. Her strong beliefs and aversion to the corrupting nature of money often drew criticism from others who saw her as naive. They couldn't understand why someone with such intelligence and talents would settle for what they viewed as a less worthy pursuit. But to Eden, there was no greater fulfillment than pursuing her passions and using her skills to help others. The crease between her brows spoke volumes about the weight she carried, but in her heart, she knew she was exactly where she needed to be.
  • Free-spirited, affectionate, and lonely; beneath that guarded exterior of hers, lies a wild and untamed soul. Eden, long confined by the isolation of her upbringing, yearns for love and simplicity. Yet, as she grows and experiences new connections, both exhilaration and fear course through her veins. The weight of her past weighs heavily on her heart, tempting her to retreat into her shell once more. But the allure of genuine affection pulls at her like a magnet, daring her to break free and embrace the unknown.

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  virtues.

  
  
  

  philanthropist. kind. stoic. observant. conscientious.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  vices.

  
  
  

  self-sacrificing. lonely. restless. cautious..

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  fears.

  
  
  

  heights. letting someone down. deep connections.

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  ❛❛

  ❜❜

  You're free. Not safe. Not protected. Free.

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  03.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  history.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  Before Eden found herself in the current situation she’s in, she was the heiress to her father's successful genetics company. Her parents, both dedicated to their careers, were often absent from her life, leaving her to be raised by a revolving door of nannies. But even in her lonely upbringing, Eden's mind stayed curious and compassionate. She yearned to make a difference in the world, inspired by her mother's work as a humanitarian operations specialist.
  
  As she matured into a young woman, Eden pursued a career in disaster relief, eager to give back to those less fortunate. Despite her quiet demeanor and diverse interests, her heart burned with a thirst for knowledge and unwavering determination. But just as she was beginning to carve out her own path, society began to crumble under the weight of conflict and chaos. Still, Eden dove headfirst into her work, sacrificing everything for the greater good. Even when her father's company became involved in ISEP - a cryotech research project - Eden remained focused on her humanitarian efforts and the small title she carried in management in her father’s lab in Australia.
  
  For eight years, she maintained a grueling routine under constant duress. She didn't have time for anything else. It wasn't until the project was nearing completion that her father began pressuring her to secure her spot in the futuristic world they were creating. But Eden couldn't shake off the guilt she felt for her privileges and repeatedly declined, insisting that others deserved the opportunity more than she did. One fateful evening in 2198, Eden sat down to dinner with her parents after what seemed like ages since their last proper family meal together. As they chatted over delicious food prepared by Eden herself, she found herself struggling to stay awake. Unbeknownst to her and her mother, they had been drugged.in her last moments before succumbing to unconsciousness, Eden witnessed tears fall from her typically stoic father's eyes. And when she later woke up in a strange new world, she couldn't shake off the bitter taste of betrayal that lingered on her tongue.
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  extra.

  
  

  click

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  misc.

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  likes

  
  
  

  
  ✧ outdoor activities; camping, fishing, hiking, foraging, and gardening. ✧ food; cinnamon, fruits, soups, tea, mushrooms. ✧ helping others; volunteering, teaching, humanitarian/rescue work. ✧ the arts; reading (history & fantasy being at the top), journaling, sketching, painting (admiring more than actual painting), music (playing the violin or guitar), origami.✧weather; stormy or starry nights, and clear blue or misty days.✧traveling; beautiful scenery, food, the culture, exploring, and languages.✧psychical activities; hands-on work, hard labor, martial arts, and working out among other things. ✧affection and touch (she may not admit it with words at first but it’s evident she shows emotions through touch and psychical gestures), an unexpected good laugh, most insects (especially moths, butterflies, and arachnids), animals (dogs & jellyfish being her favorites), routine, hygiene, and warm sweaters.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  

  dislikes.

  
  
  

  
  ✧ cold weather; but likes to sleep in it bundled up.✧hunting; unless she has to and she uses everything.✧ bigots and bullies.✧being alone for too long.✧ crying, unwarranted touch, puking, sudden loud noises, when her foot acts up, letting people down, getting a stomach bug, high places where she can clearly look down from.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  the little things.

  
  
  

  
  ✧ has minor nerve damage in her left ankle and foot from a terrible sprain years ago that never fully healed right. After long periods of walking or being off her feet, the pain creeps in to the point of tears, which is why you may catch her limping occasionally. The cold or bad, stormy weather can also set this off.
  
  ✧ her adhd is a gift and a curse. It can attribute to the restlessness she feels, how she learns, somewhat reckless behavior, and hard time concentrating. But it has also enhanced other things such as her love of learning, multiple interests, exercise, routine, and focus.
  
  ✧ when she gets a cold/flu or anything else that affects her respiratory system, her asthma comes out the most. She always kept an inhaler just in case, but it's never gotten to the point where she can't breathe. The inhaler helped ease her mind and the discomfort of wheezing she'd developed.
  
  ✧ terrible spring allergies. She isn't allergic to any foods that she knows of but is allergic to pollen, mold, cats, nickel/silver, and the contrast concoction you'd get before an MRI. The latter runs in her family on her mother's side.
  
  ✧ In the life she carried before, some of her hobbies included flower pressing and keeping a herbarium, taking the time to learn a new language, writing, woodworking/whittling, martial arts/meditating, cooking, camping/fishing (catch and release mostly), growing her own herbs and vegetables, mushroom hunting, origami, archery/fencing, surfing, being in nature, playing the guitar, and cleaning.
  
  ✧ little things that can annoy her; wet socks/cold feet; her hands being dry and cracking open; being talked down to, sudden loud noises/touch, wasting food, and cigarette smoke.
  
  ✧She has two piercings on each ear, but it was rare to see her with all four in at the same time. She also has one sole tattoo on her left thumb of the alchemy symbol for air. She wanted more.
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  title

  
  

  
  
  
  

  artist

  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[faeriehollow]

* adelaide clark

• 1ai
• 2ai
• 3ai
• 4ai

• 
  
  

  
  
  
  

  req.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  #she/they

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  name:

  adelaide marie clark
  

  nickname(s):

  typically people shorten her name to addie. she doesn’t really have a preference, but will tell you if she doesn't like one.
  

  age:

  thirty-one
  

  birthdate:

  september 23
  

  face claim:

  mary elizabeth winstead
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  #cis female

  
  
  
  
  

  #queer

  
  
  
  
  

  #investigator

  
  
  
  
  

  #libra

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  * eye details

  adelaide has brown hazel eyes with specks of gold in them if you look closely. typically she does have glasses for anything super close, but can function without them. she just may get a headache if she's reading without them for too long.
  

  * hair details

  adelaide has brown hair that stays around shoulder length. It’s straight, but from time to time has natural waves throughout it. her bangs are styled to the side, but every now and then mixes it up and gets full bangs.
  

  * skin details

  she has fair skin, but will have a light dusting of freckles on it when she’s in the sun consistently. adelaide also has various scars littering over her body from childhood shenanigans and one on her hip from getting her appendix removed.
  

  * body details

  adelaide stands at five foot and eight inches tall. she has a fairly athletic build. due to her career she has built up muscle, yet remains lean. she also has her first and second holes pierced in her ears.
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  pers.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  likes

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  coffee

  
  
  
  

  baking

  
  
  
  

  going on long walks

  
  
  
  

  vinyl records

  
  
  
  

  journaling

  
  
  
  

  sitting by the water

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  dislikes

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  being talked down to

  
  
  
  

  being underestimated

  
  
  
  

  extreme cold weather

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  fears

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  regretting choices in life

  
  
  
  

  hurting people she cares for

  
  
  
  

  closed tight spaces

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  * personality

  when you first meet adelaide, right away you’ll notice she is very engaged in conversation. though more on the introverted side, she is optimistic, kind-hearted, open-minded, and and happy to chat and get to know just about anyone. she holds honesty above everything and is ready to defend anyone in need, but sometimes to a fault with how direct she can be
  
  although she can be a tad prickly and struggle to let you in, she will if you give her the time. due to some past relationships, letting people in isn't always the easiest. once you get to know her adelaide is fiercely loyal, passionate, and ready to be with you every step of the way to succeed, but will also tell you when you're out of line. adelaide is stubborn, a tad reckless, and can get in her way at times from that. if she likes you, she loves to tease, throw some witty remarks at you, and just spend time with you wherever possible.
  

  
  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  hist.

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  adelaide says . . .

  
  

  
  

  ❝

  
  

  we might not have a lot, but at least we have each other.

  
  

  ❞

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  * history

  adelaide was born into a family with two loving parents, steve and ashley st. clair, in toronto, ontario, canada. steve worked as a doctor in the psychiatry ward while ashley worked as a nurse in the emergency room at the local hospital. their family was not overly wealthy, however, they were fairly comfortable in terms of money and resources available to them. adelaide has a lot of good memories of walking around the city with her parents, diving into a pool in hot summers, and having a close-knit neighbourhood.
  
  after high school, adelaide felt the pressure due to the state of the world. what did she want to do? as her family relocated to australia during her early adulthood to crytech research being done, this question truly was on her mind. there was also a lot of pressure for her to do something within the medical field. her parents just assumed and even went as far as telling their friends she would be a doctor. it was a job she was guaranteed to be secured, especially due to the new research being done, but that just wasn’t her calling. her parents weren’t exactly happy or sad after finding out she wanted to become a private investigator. as she worked towards this, adelaide met her husband, louis clark. their romance was fast and the heat of the moment, which caused things to progress rather quickly. before you know it they were getting married and buying a house together. their marriage was fairly fine and average, but things tended to get tense when the topic of children came up. it wasn’t that adelaide didn’t want children. she would love to have become a mother, but didn’t think it was fair with the state of the world. she didn’t want her child to be born into international tensions and tides rising.
  
  as adelaide started her career as a private investigator, she quickly found herself loving the rush of the job. she took on several jobs looking into many things for people such as background verification, searching records, surveillance, the odd spouse looking to see if their partner was cheating, and more. every case was some sort of new adventure. this caused her to gather a lot of skills such as photography, good communication, self-defence, stealth, and attention to detail. some were stronger than others, but still, nevertheless, she gathered them. some of these cases brought her into the world of crytech. looking into if it was actually safe, how to secure a pod, trying to see if their ex was going into the same cryoshed as them, and more. at times, these did make her laugh, but hey, a job was a job.
  
  unfortunately, her attention to detail bit back at her one day. typically this is a more positive trait, but doesn’t become that when you see red lipstick on your husbands neck as he comes home from work. in some ways, adelaide was more upset that it was so obvious. you’re married to a private investigator, and you couldn’t at least check to make sure your other woman’s lipstick wasn’t on you? especially with such a bright colour! it caused a rather large fight between them. some unkind things were said or done on both sides.
  
  due to her family’s resources, adelaide was able to secure a crypod. this also meant she decided to go into cryostasis without the knowledge of whether her husband would make it or not. for all she knows, he was in one with his secretary, but they would remain technically married out of spite. she felt it was the biggest fuck you that she could have given him. it was a moment of anger where she didn’t exactly think through what she might feel when she woke up.
  

  
  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  misc.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  * family

  info here
  
  

  * mbti

  info here
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

req.

pers.

hist.

misc.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[LowkeyLovingLoki]

if i get high

nothing but thieves

the doctor

R

equisite.

name

Isaac Ayers

age

twenty-six

gender/pronouns

cisgender male; he/him

sexuality

homosexual

v

isage.

hair

light brown

eyes

a brown slightly darker than his hair

build

Standing at 6'1 and being quite lean, Isaac is a tall but not very intimidating presence. There is little muscle mass to him, as well as not much fat content.

scars/mods

Isaac has a very, very small rose tattoo on his wrist, in memory of his mother./border]

p

syche.

Isaac is, in general, a very

pragmatic

person, preferring to think with his head over his heart. He is known to be

ambitious

, though less so in more recent months. Isaac is

rational

and

self-confident

when it counts, making him a valuable member of any team, particularly within his line of work.

On the flip side, Isaac has an

addictive

personality, resulting in some very unhealthy habits. Isaac is bad at taking care of himself, both due to ambition and a lack of concern for his own wellbeing. Isaac deliberately shows himself to be

hard-working

and

intelligent

in order to slip under the radar a little bit; no one worries about him if they think he has everything under control. Isaac struggles to accept help, partly due to a misguided sense of

pride

- Isaac does not think he's better than anyone else, but he knows how smart he is, and can sometimes come across as a little

egotistical

.

When it comes to fears, Isaac actually has quite a few. Spiders, for one - he never did like them, particularly when he was a child. Like most people, he has a fear of dying. He thought being a doctor might desensitise him, but if anything, it has shown him how close one can come to death, and especially how quickly. He fears not achieving everything he wants to before he dies, resulting in Isaac putting an immense amount of pressure on himself.

h

istory

TW - Mentions of Cancer and Drug Use

Isaac was born to a young, single mother, who worked her way from the ground up to give Isaac the life she should have had. They were far from wealthy, but Isaac didn't want for anything, and until he was in his pre-teens, was unaware of the struggle his mother endured to give him what she felt he deserved. Still, Isaac was a grateful child, and he and his mother were the best of friends. Isaac showed, from a young age, that he had a mathematical and scientific brain; he excelled in his classes and showed a particular interest in biology and medicine. His mother, seeing the potential in Isaac, worked even harder to ensure that he could become everything he was capable of.

While everything in the world went to, well, shit, Isaac found peace in working as a doctor - particularly a surgeon - to help those in need. He was aware that no surgery was going to stop the end of the world, but at least this way, he felt like he was doing something. And while he was, of course, distressed to learn that his own mother was dying of an incurable cancer, Isaac was confident that he could fix it. He fixed everything and everyone. Of course, this simply was not the case. Isaac operated on his own mother and was unable to save her. This was something of a breaking point for Isaac; while he continued to work, he also became engrossed in drugs - anything he could really get his hands on, but particularly cocaine.

Isaac was not necessarily self-destructive at this point, but he was becoming addicted. Still, he wanted to live, and figured whatever new world was going to be made would need doctors, so he was sure to secure himself a pod. He only wished his mother would be leaving the planet with him.

g

allery.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[greeniegiantt]

* Cherish

• 1ai
• 2ai
• 3ai
• 4ai

• 
  
  

  
  
  
  

  req.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  honor your words

  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  * n.name(s)

  Cherish William
  

  * d.o.b.

  june twenty-third
  

  * p.o.b.

  Mississippi, USA
  

  * n.name(s)

  cherry
  

  * a.age

  twenty-four
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  #female

  
  
  
  
  

  #cancer

  
  
  
  
  

  #pansexual

  
  
  
  
  

  #role

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  * height

  five' six
  

  * weight

  one thirty-five
  

  * build

  Cherry has a well-toned, slender build. Her muscles are lean due to many years of hunting, fishing, and gathering, but she is malnourished.
  

  * hair colour

  long brown locs that reach the back of her shoulders
  

  * eye colour

  dark brown
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  pers.

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  Positive

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  #adaptable

  
  
  
  

  #authentic

  
  
  
  

  #tenacious

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  negative

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  #blunt

  
  
  
  

  #cynincal

  
  
  
  

  #resentful

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  fears

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  #losing family

  
  
  
  

  #being alone

  
  
  
  

  #losing oneself

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  * personality

  Born in the South, Cherry has been instilled with Southern hospitality. It is a requirement to be polite to strangers, respect elders, and offer a helping hand to those who ask. Cherry upholds these traditions as a sense of pride, a way to show that Southerners aren't outlandish or uncouth. Yet that doesn't equate to her being a friendly person willing to say yes to everyone. There's a stark difference in how Cherry expresses herself depending on who she's in the company of- for most, Cherry is quite stoic and blunt, only responding to those who ask. On the other hand, to the people she can be comfortable with, she has a chatterbox, being able to reminisce about her home swamp endlessly. She shows compassion and understanding, taking the time to go the extra mile to ensure her friends are okay.
  
  Cherry grew up as the sole provider for a large family. She took up three jobs: a fisherman, a trader, and even a hunter. Nearing the end, she still could not earn enough money to live comfortably. Her diligence in routine is second to none, and she flourishes in environments where she is needed. Cherry resents the capitalistic hellscape that was forced upon her and her community. Consequently, She despises the upper class, labeling them as pigs. She stereotypes those with privilege as greedy pigs who consume everything even when they're full. She's envious of the limitless opportunities that are offered to them because the system favors them.
  
  

  
  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  hist.

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  #cherry says . . .

  
  

  
  

  ❝

  
  

  just because i don't say shit, doesn't mean i don't give a shit.

  
  

  ❞

  
  

  
  

  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  * history

  
  There are sometimes individuals who were given a shitty hand at life, who had the aspirations, the drive, and even the talent for something greater, yet were just out of luck due to being born at the wrong place at the wrong time. This statement was often used to brand Cherish as a poor southern black girl, useless and unfortunate. It was common knowledge in the community that the gal aspired to work in law. In the quiet moments between the water rising and the bombs dropping, you would sometimes find Cherry reading a book about the history of such a subject in her boathouse. She didn't have much, but the few items taught her the history of morality and legality. She grew up in the country, running through the woods barefoot, fishing for crawdads, and snatching little treats from the local fishermen. A wild child at heart, she would dodge responsibility until the world's end was 'here.' Initially, the community brushed off it as a hoax; most had put their faith in the government, believing that the politicians would rescue them before bad would go to worse. However, the rivers and swamps kept rising, and those who had the money to leave- left without a second notice. It wasn't until all of Mississippi was sunken underwater that those left were forced to adapt.
  
  The territory became a bayou. Homes were built on boats, and neighbors became family. Everyone had to lend a hand for the community as a whole to survive—from the elders to the toddlers who had just begun to walk. This included Cherry's maternal grandmother, who took her and her siblings in when her father passed, and her mother abandoned them for some rich bloke. Her grandmother couldn't move around as well as most, but she was good with her hands. Most of the town went for her for blankets, sweaters, socks, or other clothes. A craftwomen with the wisdom of a philosopher. She was actually the one to encourage Cherry to delve into the idea of becoming a lawyer-- pushing her to seek out opportunities and move out of the swamp.
  
  However, Cherish understood how significant her presence was to her family and the community. She was the eldest sibling, the leading provider, and one of the few remaining young adults. Their system in Bayou, despite being strong, was entirely co-dependent—everyone needed to play their part. It was growing to be a crushing reality for Cherish, that is, until the news of the ISEP's cryogenic project. By this point, the remaining of Mississippi had lost faith in the American System-"I mean, a fair lottery? Ha!" Rather than sending their applications to get ignored or immediately thrown away, the townspeople thought trying their luck in a foreign country would be safer. Australia, to be more precise.
  
  Australia was a more viable option as it wasn't at the top of everyone's list. It was a big gamble, but it was no longer a fact anyone could blindly ignore. No matter how much they worked together or adapted, the world was ending, and the town needed a way to secure its future. So, out of desperation, everyone filled out an application, hoping to win the lottery.
  
  To say that all her luck had amounted to this moment was an understatement; having to receive news that her future was guaranteed was a ray of hope she had been praying for for a long time. Cherish had assumed she was only the first of her family to receive such news, that it was only an amount of time before her siblings, grandmother, aunts, and uncles were to follow her to Australia. She had promised the rest that they were be reunited soon, that once together, they would be able to a brand new start, not as Cajun hillbillies but as something better.
  
  
  

  
  
  
  
• 
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  misc.

  
  

  
  
  
  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  

  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  
  
  

  * family

  Cherish originally lived with her grandmother and five younger siblings, ages eighteen to three. While that is all she knows about her blood relations, she considers many neighbors aunts, uncles, or cousins.
  
  

  * mbti

  info here
  
  

  
  
  

  
  
  

req.

pers.

hist.

misc.

 

[throwaway_png]

Runaway.

full name

Ishan Emani

alias

Ish

Gender & Pronouns

Cisgender female. she/her

Sexuality

Pansexual

ethnicity

Persian

Age

mid-twenties

style

height

6'0

hair

Dark, packed curls

eyes

Tawny

Build

Ishan walks through life like she never quite learned how to puppet her body. Inheriting long limbs stapled to an angular frame, her silhouette should easily be making demands of the space around her. But buried somewhere beneath that marble veneer is erosion. A lesion of self-doubt that's enough of a counterweight to keep her conscious guilty and her posture deer-like and skittish. It's a carefully balanced anxiety however, often paired with a hopeful, admittedly dorky smile that puts her softer features to use.

Inshan's face is bronze plated; highly reactive at times but overcast by the same nervous muteness as the rest of her. Dense muscle snakes its way around her stilted, wiry limbs-- a sunken collarbone, and thinly rounded edges characteristic of someone who seems to spend their free time pacing in circles.

dist. features

Permanent wrist tan from a ridiculously priced watch.

body modifications

Her body is an anomaly, clear of any markings of hardship and wear indicative of the times they're in. No tattoos, no scars, not even so much as a blemish.

Die Your Daughter

Susannah Joffe

req.

req.

Frozen in the headlights

Ishan, in one word, is careful. She's made every effort to distinguish herself from the ilk of person her parents were born of--but that occasional anger hardening in her chest undoubtedly belongs to her father. There's a certain fragility that resides in her, shelled by iron but still communicated in the way her gaze lingers at every restless soul she comes across with a want to halve their burden.

She always felt too deeply and violently to keep a faithful adherence to the stoic, unmoved image of her family’s crest; one sewn into every private school uniform and shower robe under the Emani name. While her upbringing barely made room to satisfy her innate desire for connection, it did come with the added benefit of being able to strip people for parts with just a shallow once-over. Ishan is perceptive almost to a fault as if trying to make up for years of loneliness through careful examination.

She's a deceptively pragmatic mind with a quiet strength, even if she carries it awkwardly.

likes

- Oil Painting
- Piano
- Classical music & Heavy Metal
- Sudoku

Fears

- Isolation (being left alone, exclusion, ect, etc)
- Being inadequate/ a burden
- Bodies of water (can't swim)
- Dogs
- Dying alone

quirks

- Big fan of using air quotes when speaking, sometimes improperly.

- Always crosses her legs when sitting, may involuntarily reach for a napkin to place of her lap.

- Is one to babble nervously when there is a lull in conversation.

pers.

pers.

birth

Her parents likely wish she came out smaller. More pliant. Easier to chain to their aspirations with the compliance of any soft-bellied child with a trust fund dangled over them. And while Ishan is by no means a stubborn contrarian, she managed to luck into something her parents couldn't afford her; a conscience.

Born to Iranian parents residing in America, the inexhaustible outpour of war and tribalism marring the world's sundown years were some of her family's most profitable. Her father, a military contractor, had no gripes at securing his family's seat at the table even if it meant wielding the hatchet himself. Arms deals kept a hideous amount of wealth circulating in their estate all while government coffers dried up and the global economy rusted. From this, Ishan knew only of gilded cages and the machinations, deceit, and lust it took to secure such a life in the face of an apocalypse.

She was a lonely, sheltered child who grew into a lonely, sheltered adult- an awkward sensitivity cross-stitched to her skin like a shadow. Her parents, stiff, unfeeling beings on the outskirts of her life brought her up like she was a contingency plan, not a daughter.

Despite it all, Ishan loved them with the fierce devotion of any child starved of affection, an inane loyalty acting like shackles bound keenly to her wrists, keeping them low and docile. But there came a point where the flex and bend of familial sins finally gave, only to reveal the beginnings of a calcified heart and surprising new want for self-efficacy.

And so she left at the age of 18. Quietly, without fanfare. Abandoning her guarantee of survival as the world kept on its trajectory towards hell. Australia was an odd choice of refuge and undoubtedly not her first, but it placed enough distance between her and her family to make any attempt to fish her out difficult.

Ishan thought she had the courage to die. To atone in some small way. But she hadn't quite lost an attachment to life just yet...

best friend

name here

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Donec vestibulum dui eget diam sodales lobortis. Nulla fermentum purus fringilla hendrerit tincidunt. Quisque ullamcorper fringilla augue, a laoreet ligula vehicula vel. Vestibulum laoreet tristique sem, vel malesuada nunc congue quis. Nulla aliquet massa a felis viverra iaculis. Praesent ac tortor quis diam efficitur consequat non id eros. Nullam malesuada quis nisl vitae consequat.

best friend

name here

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Donec vestibulum dui eget diam sodales lobortis. Nulla fermentum purus fringilla hendrerit tincidunt. Quisque ullamcorper fringilla augue, a laoreet ligula vehicula vel. Vestibulum laoreet tristique sem, vel malesuada nunc congue quis. Nulla aliquet massa a felis viverra iaculis. Praesent ac tortor quis diam efficitur consequat non id eros. Nullam malesuada quis nisl vitae consequat.

best friend

name here

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Donec vestibulum dui eget diam sodales lobortis. Nulla fermentum purus fringilla hendrerit tincidunt. Quisque ullamcorper fringilla augue, a laoreet ligula vehicula vel. Vestibulum laoreet tristique sem, vel malesuada nunc congue quis. Nulla aliquet massa a felis viverra iaculis. Praesent ac tortor quis diam efficitur consequat non id eros. Nullam malesuada quis nisl vitae consequat.

question here

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question here

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit.

hist.

hist.

scroll

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[SavannahSmiles]

• ℙ𝕝𝕒𝕔𝕖𝕙𝕠𝕝𝕕𝕖𝕣

• 
  
  Rhys Park

  role:

  the imposter

  fc:

  lee felix

  i survived because the fire inside of me

  burned brighter than the fire around me.

  ✧

  ✧

  ☾

  ☆
  
  

 

[TheMadIceCreamMan]

Click Bar

Face \\ Ted Cohrt

Name \\ Konrad Dippel
Age \\ 44
Gender \\ Male [ He/Him ]
Sexuality \\ Hetero

Employer \\ Risus Corp.
Profession \\ Proteomics

Physical \\
- Height : 5'8''
- Weight : 160 lbs [ Below BMI ]
- Conditions : Male-Pattern Baldness - Sleep Apnea - IBS - Gastric Ulcers - Hypertension
- At Risk : Diabetes

Continue \\ Y

Phyche \\
By many of his colleagues he was described as hardworking and dedicated. Proselytized to the work culture at the time for those with specialized disciplines. Laziness and disorder were paramount sins to the epoch of humanity's rise away from its crumbling foundations. To these ends he was also described as brusque, even cruel, to his peers that had these sins. In fact, he would expect no difference for himself. A firm utilitarian. A humble gear of a bespoke machine. His actions born of an inherent rightness to stay the course.

It would be easy to confuse his obtuse manner as something born of ego but rather it was forged in pride towards humanity. An idealized picture of humanity that had been drip fed to him since youth. One that proudly showed humanity striving towards its throne in the stars - to the point where Konrad failed to consider the earth at his feet.

Biography \\
Growing up Konrad had come to know better the feel of a pen and a book than that of a human hand. So easily desperate as any kid for their parents he began to mistake his compliance as the gateway to love. Every good grade a token currency for a parent's smile and pat on the shoulder. Steadily, slowly, his own worth was amounted to numbers on a paper. Naturally, his own self-worth grew to be as fragile as the paper that dictated it. Easily crumbling at bad grades that marched him into panics. Indulgent peers met with indifference, or even anger, by a young Konrad who could not understand their carefree manner. Affirmation existed everywhere in a time when a good education was thought to hold the promise of a future in the stars. His parents, his parents, and his councilors all enablers that he was a token child on the right path. A lead ball of confidence that slowly came to poison the whole of his social fibers.

One might imagine the pressure to eventually buckle him but rather the erosion of his youth had slowly washed away his softer elements to leave a harder core. An irritable yet indifferent man that never understood what was wrong. And now was his own enabler. His college years marked as a point of radicalization towards utilitarian ideals. Towards this idea of being a token worker. An element to a greater purpose. No longer sated by the turgid affirmations of his parents had begun to seek it instead through compliance towards a higher order. Academia. The government.

Much like before, he would not find himself through this process but instead found himself worn down into what was called for. A polished gear.

Still, much like any gear they come to be worn down. His own health through years of steady dedication had begun to decay. Much of it self-imposed. Heart problems. There was technology at the time to remedy it, but eventually the decision was reached that it was better, cheaper, to simply put him on ice. It was never his choice. He was considered at risk. Thus, he was put into cryo-storage on a low priority bracket and replaced with three workers who easily picked up where his research left off.


Continue \\ N

Closing \\

Format Credits: Ambiloquous​

 

[Pine]

Basic Info:

Name: Chamomile "Cam" Rose
Age: Seventy-one
Gender: Transwoman (she/her)
Sexuality: Lesbian (t4t)


Description:

Hair: Gray and dense with tight, tight coils. Very little black is still peppered in. She has always wanted to grow her hair back out into the unrestrained afro of her childhood, but working conditions were always a hazard that could snag and break its fragile strands. So instead, she keeps it cropped short, just long enough to give some spring when pressed. At night, she tucks it under a satin cap.

She once could grow a full beard, but the bristles have since thinned and softened. At the first sight of them, they are cut down with extreme prejudice. The hairs on her legs and in her armpits, and the few scattered hairs on her shoulders, all once got this same treatment. Now she is at peace with them. They are soft and unintrusive like her.

Eyes: Bright brown, hooded. Careful application of eyeliner conceals that they are naturally downturned. For date nights and performances, she thickens her lashes with mascara and colors her lids in sparkling gold, orange, or brown eyeshadow.

To most, she is never without an intense gaze. Her eye contact is direct and focused, only ever softening in the most tender moments she shares with her loved ones.

She has begun to form nuclear cataracts and a sensitivity to bright lights that comes with that. She dismisses her frequent need to update her prescription contacts as a natural progression of her age and thinks nothing more of it.

Height: Six feet tall with a wish that she wasn't. It was dancing that broke her out of her habit of hunching. There are still moments though where she catches herself slumped in a seat and she shifts to straighten her back again.

Weight/build: Medium-dark skin with warm undertones, softened by estrogen then dried out again with age. Crow's feet wrinkle the corners of her eyes when she smiles, and the skin on her arms and legs have begun to thin and sag. She has an ectomorphic build, almost rail thin from years of activity and poor diet. Only her slight muscle definition from dancing and work keep her from dropping under 140 pounds. On her most melancholic days, she gets stuck looking in a mirror, tracing the edges of her too-sharp hips, too-long nose and too-square jawbone she never could've afforded to shave down.

Scars/mods: A patch on the front of her left calf has shaded her skin pigmentation with a more red hue and altered her skin's natural elasticity to make it more taut and dry. It's a scar from a steam burn, and she likes to think that it vaguely resembles the shape of a whale.

Scars encircle the ring and middle finger of her right hand. She had nearly lost these two fingers in a work accident on that day, but managed to save them with the lesser cost of severe lacerations.

Her lobes are pierced, albeit a little unevenly, as they were a home job. Sometimes she'll wear hoops or dangling faux-pearl earrings.


Psyche:

Personality: By all appearances, Chamomile is a woman who has never learned to be still. She organizes her life around strict routines, with every minute of her day carefully orchestrated to further her goals. A coffee and bagel in the morning are fuel for her body to work a morning shift. She never simply sits—flexing and unflexing her feet so as to keep them limber for not only her day, but the rest of her life ahead of her. If there was ever someone who thought they could outrun death itself, it would be Chamomile. Without something to do and work towards, the act of simply being quickly becomes unbearable to her.

Though pragmatic, Chamomile does not completely neglect the gentler parts of life. She has spent decades nurturing what once she suppressed within herself. When she is safe in her home or in community, she will often sing and hum to herself. When she is off work, she keeps a journal on her person where she writes lines for poems that she may never finish, often romantic. To her, joy is something that needs to be intentionally sought out, and she aims to teach that to the younger generation.

For as long as she has lived, Chamomile has difficulty conceptualizing any part of life's problems that she has not already thought through. She is governed by a strong moral compass that she has fostered over the years, ruled by the compulsion to guide and protect the vulnerable. Anyone or anything that falls outside of her black and white morality, Chamomile loses all of her warmth. They have no place in her life, and she will ensure that the offending party is aware of it.

Strengths:
❁ Self-disciplined and does not give up easy
❁ Attuned to others' emotions and capable of great compassion
❁ Assertive and unapologetic when speaking her mind
❁ Adaptive, creative problem solver

Weaknesses:
❁ Inflexible thinking once she's made her mind up about something
❁ Quick to pass judgment and behave dismissively
❁ Co-dependent—needs to feel needed in order to remain stable
❁ Overestimates her abilities and overtakes responsibility

Fears:
❁ Isolation, and the loss of purpose that comes with it
❁ Starvation, that she will someday be cut off from the means to sustain herself
❁ Loss of control, whether of her body or of her own cognizance
❁ Helplessness in the face of unexpected change


History:

i.
First there was Claire. Then ███████, Quanasia, and lastly, Laurence.

The siblings raised each other more than their parents did. ███████ most often saw her father when they were at Mass—him, dressed-sharp, stone-faced and humming his hymns. Their mother was a tempest that raged at them for each time they explored too far, got too rowdy or questioned too much. She told them she loved them, but they were too young to know how working two jobs while keeping a family clean and fed wore a person thin.

When the younger ones were born, ███████ would play house and love them tenderly. But sometimes she played with them too rough or couldn't figure out how to make them stop crying, and their mother would rage against her.

She began to resent. It wasn't fair that they got to play while she and Claire had to babysit.

They had a family that lived next door, the Lorenzos. The Lorenzos had a boy around her age, but ███████ always had trouble connecting with the boys at her church and school, and they didn't care much for her either. What she really cared about was the treehouse they were building in front of their trailer home.

Her fondest memories were when she snuck in there, dancing to music in her head and feeling the sun on her skin before they had put the roof up. The boys caught her up there, but every time they threatened to tell, their grandparents pretended they had never known, and that they had simply invited her over for dinner. Sometimes she stole her mother's jewelry and hung necklaces between the cracks in the floorboards. And most of the time, she got away with it.

ii.
Their father lost his job when she was barely a teen. The company had run their numbers, and they determined they were paying too many people for too little productivity. He was not the only one supporting a household of six, and at least his wife was already working. And so, they let him go.

It was the first time ███████ had had to ration her meals. Their father got a part-time job doing the same retail work their mother did, and still it wasn't enough.

███████ began to work landscaping for cheap at the suburbs her peers stayed at. The legality of it didn't matter, because they did not want to pay industry price, and she didn't want to go to sleep with hunger cramps. Her grades at school did not suffer, only because they were never that great to begin with.

After a couple of years, their father once again landed a full-time job, but ███████ continued working. She found she liked the extra money. As a treat for herself, she could buy a couple of grams off of some boys in the yearbook club. Her best friend had also become her girlfriend, and she began to dream of getting an apartment when she graduated—far away from parenting her younger siblings and the strain between her parents that carried over since their father's initial layoff.

She wanted her own life, and she saw her way to get out of this one.

iii.
At the altar, she had meant it when she said she loved her. She loved the crinkle in her nose when she laughed, but she was careless with their income, purchasing the leaner meats then throwing out her unfinished dinner plates. ███████ knew she was loved for the gifts that she made with her hands, but she always left things lying around the apartment, and they would argue over that.

They always knew they wanted children. The fantasy of their phantom child kept them together in times they thought they would fall apart. It was children that would give their life together meaning, and it was children that would mend the chasm that had grown between them.

But every instance it came time to try, something overcame ███████ and she would form knots in her stomach. They couldn't afford seeing a doctor for it, but they did anyway, and finally after a few months and the prescribed medical interventions, her wife became pregnant with their first and final child.

Their son, of course, was not the catalyst they dreamed up to repair their fractured bond. They were still two different people who didn't want to admit it.

For ███████'s part, a separation meant going back to living with her parents and siblings, and she had barely spoken with them outside of the major holidays. Her elopement right before graduation had not been appreciated, but it was intentional. She did not want to go back there, even if it meant navigating the unsafe conditions of whatever factory job was hiring at the time just to make rent.

Her ailments when it came to having their first child persisted as they attempted for a second. The cause for this psychosomatic dysfunction bewildered her. She otherwise felt she was sound of mind and body. It wasn't until after their son's tenth birthday, long since they had given up, did the answer finally come to her.

iv.
It was the third night of her having an insomniatic fit. The pipe under the kitchen sink had burst and flooded their apartment on the same day as her father-in-law's sudden passing. Between work shifts, consoling her wife and negotiations with the property manager, she had gotten no more than four hours of sleep. When it finally came time for her to properly rest, she'd become unable to discern dreams from hallucinations.

In the crack between slumber and lucidity, she found herself, disembodied, in the throes of passion with a woman that was not her wife. When she awoke, she could not shake the notion she had been touched by something divine. Try as she might to return to her normal routines, she felt disconnected, and fixated on this vision.

She had not stepped foot inside of a church in years, but over the next several weeks, the character of her dream steadily began to sink into her intuitive awareness. In her vision, she had lain with the Saint Felicity, herself embodying Perpetua. Even as someone who was not herself, she had felt aligned with her body in a way so profound she had never known possible, and now, with every passing day that she tried to behave naturally and as she always had been, she knew with greater and greater clarity that she needed to find her way back.

v.
It took two years for her to find her name, then another before she began living in it.

Chamomile was a woman living in estrangement. Though the validity of her newfound identity was unilaterally accepted, there was no longer any place for her within her family. Her wife did not love women in that way, and their child had always been his mother's son. Chamomile had long since closed him out, keeping her head down with her sole focus on keeping them financially afloat. She'd been out of touch with herself for so long, she'd never had any hope of reaching into that part of them. Now, with such a revelation upon her, it felt almost narcissistic to subject him to her journey of self-discovery while he was still navigating his own foray into adolescence. At least, that was the rationale she came up with to avoid confronting the shame she felt in one simple truth: she wanted to leave.

It was not enough when the divorce was filed and she cut a deal with a landlord to live in a ratty studio apartment separate from them. She wanted a fresh start where no one would give her an apologetic look every time they slipped up and called her by her deadname. She didn't want to try to mold herself back into the pieces of her life she had begun to build when she was not her whole self. So, when the manufacturing company she worked for began seeking out employees to transfer cross-continentally in their everlasting campaign to gain a foothold in the greater global economy, Chamomile was the first to volunteer.

Australia was a long distance from the Californian shores she had grown up on, but she would come to think of it as her home all the same. Life did not change much at first. Between alimony payments, the cost of her medical and legal transition, and supporting herself in a single-person household, she found little time for pleasure. As the years passed, expenses began to resolve themselves, and she learned more thrifty means of living in her new environment. Though she could not take vacations and worked through many of her sick days, she found the room for things she had always wanted to do. She took in an elderly stray cat she kept sustained with table scraps, and on Saturday nights, she stayed out late practicing form with a local community of dance enthusiasts. She was happy, but in the sense that she was banging her head against every bleak propagation of a society that only valued her for the capital she can produce. The body she had come to feel beautiful in was a product of labor, and if only she kept running, she could forcefeed her inner child with every individual accomplishment she had denied herself for so long. She would become the self that she could idolize and never again have to look outwards.

vi.
Diana came to her as breath—perfumed and sweet.

She was in the crowd during one of her troupe's performances. Chamomile had not noticed her at first, but when she stayed after to chat with one of the other performers, Chamomile could not stop staring at the way she moved her wrists.

Their relationship was a slow bud. Diana worked as a professor of environmental science and had her son to support. Chamomile had her own financial bindings that made scheduling dates difficult, but every time she came home from a night out, every fiber of her ached with the loneliness she tried so hard to ignore.

She was a second mother to Diana's son long before the two of them married. He wanted to pursue a career in aerospace engineering, and in him Chamomile saw the opportunity to be lovingly devoted as she never had been with her own son. He had been Diana's life since company negligence had left her widowed, and Chamomile was perfectly prepared to make the both of them the center of her universe.

So they aged together. Against a backdrop of despair, war, and inevitability, they found solace in each other's company. If ever Chamomile allowed herself to still for a moment, she was flooded with life's wasted potential and all that she had abandoned in her past. But then, there was the rapture that was enfolding herself in her wife's arms, those wrists, and then she could find her peace again.

vii.
How does one accept that their life's work was idealistic folly?

In the weeks leading up to their scheduled admission into the Cryoshed, Diana had begun to fall apart. She no longer moved with the grace she had carried with her through the decades they had known each other. She was a flower, wilted from the frigid acceptance that the earth she so loved and yearned to see a restoration of was deigned to be abandoned by all of humanity. That, and her son would wait until the Ark Ship's construction was completed before subjecting himself to the same sleep as the rest of them.

Chamomile had secured a spot next to her wife's pods. She held Diana close, because she had found there was no magical combination of words that could override the grief that she was experiencing. She would have held her the whole time if she could have, but that was not how Cryostasis was designed. And so, with a tender kiss to her cheekbone, they separated.

Chamomile had not spoken to her ex-wife and biological son since the last escalation of nuclear war, but in these final moments, she did think on whether they were already sealed away, or if they'd to wait, or if they were even still in living in the States to begin with. Then, she was asleep.

 

[zogokonu]

Name: Bianca Carrera
Nickname: Abby
age: 32
gender (& pronouns): woman adjacent, she/her
Sexuality: lesbian

Description:
Hair: brown hair
Eyes: hazel
Height: 5’8
weight/build: 155 pounds, skinny but muscular, the kind of fit you get from climbing and running mostly everyday
pfp: Alicia Vikander (specifically in Tomb Raider)

Psyche:

Bianca is a bright energetic person, very focused and with a tendency to overfocus and let the world around her fade away. They’re friendly, most of the time, it comes with the passion for different cultures and places, they meet a lot of new people. They also come across as privileged, cause they are. Grew up with a lot of family money and never truly experienced any sort of financial insecurity.

Strengths
Most of her strengths are connected to her love of the world, humans and their cultures. They know a lot about the world, languages, cultural practices and ways of life, they’re also very adaptable to different circumstances. Prone to focus on the bright side of things and she also loves to solve problems, they’re like puzzles to her. They have the fitness of a marathon runner almost, can climb and run for a good while and know how to forage for food when needed. She knows self defense, gift from her veteran mother.

Weaknesses
Too trusting, of people’s words and their intentions. But on the other side, she holds onto to grudges like it’s destiny to do so. They can be impulsive and fearless in a reckless way, the result of never truly suffering the consequences for things. Chronically late and a bit *too* relaxed in a way that is infuriating to those in a hurry or any sense of urgency.

Fears
Their absolute biggest fear is the death of human history, that nothing will be left and all the stories, existences, medical and technological advancement will be lost forever. But there are other more mundane ones, like being followed/watched, dying of thirst (she had a rough time while visiting the Atacama desert), having to stay in complete silence and never making a family of her own. She’s not scared of being alone, she’s scared of having to live without companionship

History

Abby grew up on a ranch in Alberta, Canada, with her parents. Her mother, Camila, is an officer with the Canadian army and her father is a doctor by trade but comes from family money. Their parents were always very different and they always struggled to understand how their marriage worked at all. Her mother was very serious and disciplined while her father was a gentle, soft presence. The isolation of her growing up made her fascinated by other people, other realities and she went to college to study history and got her Masters focused on the evolution of civilization. She applied for the Australian program because of proximity, they were researching abandoned cities in South India for a good while before takeoff. They applied to the program with their girlfriend and paid for both spots, she stayed in Australia waiting for the call while Abby went back to India for her research, claiming they’d see each other soon.

 

[simulationanomaly]

[CHARACTER SHEET COMPLETE, ACCEPTING FEEDBACK AND TWEAKING AS NEEDED]

"Tell me what I'm supposed to think‬ // When the bullets start to pour"


[BASIC INFORMATION]

Name: Viktor R. Gray

Titles: Engineer Staff Sergeant (former)

Alias: "Rattler"

Age and DOB: 33 (12/16/2165)

Gender and Sexuality: Cis man (he/him), greyromantic pansexual

City of Origin: Sevierville, Tennessee, U.S.A

"Lie about some greater good‬ // When you ship me off to war‬"


[PHYSICALITY]

Height: 6'0

Weight: 210~ lbs

Build: Muscular, but not very toned. The build of someone well-trained who forgets to take care of himself.

Hair: 4C, black, brushed-out

Eyes: Dark brown

Distinguishing Marks: Missing both top incisors, stick-and-poke tattoo of the Gadsden Flag's rattlesnake on his left shoulder blade, tattoo of a green carnation on his upper right thigh, bullet scar on his right kneecap, burn scars on his lower left leg and up the front of his body.

Physical Conditions: Moderate-severe tinnitus, mostly deaf in his left ear, chronic pain in both legs

Faceclaim: Genuinely no fucking clue. Reverse image search has failed me. If you recognize him, PLEASE let me know.

"A thousand dead on either side // Is there no one keeping score‬?"

[PSYCHE]

Personality: Viktor is in a perpetual state of disillusionment with humanity. Though this can make him come off as rude and uncaring, he yearns deeply for a better world, and his true nature still pushes him to see the best in everyone. His cold remarks are generally only made out of a desire for others to utilize the good in their hearts to fight back against him, and his threats are largely just attempts to put people back on the right path. In fact, he considers himself largely pacifistic, and avoids physical conflict until it can no longer be avoided. However, his bitterness and conflicted feelings on humanity's nature can and often does drive him to coldness and cruelty, especially in the face of those he considers oppressive.

He is especially wary of anything even remotely resembling a military structure, be it in a social setting or in a physical building. Though he still tends to default back to his military training from time to time, he deeply despises all military organizations, and has grown a major disdain for authority in general. He is not object to being a leader himself, however, and will gladly take up the reins if he feels as though he needs to. For better or for worse.

Beliefs: Viktor has no organized religious beliefs, but due to growing up in a heavily Christian area, he has beliefs that resemble a warped version of Christianity. He believes that a God exists, but that it has given up on humanity and largely doesn't care about what happens on Earth. He believes in a Heaven and Hell, but only as a coping method. He believes that there are a set of cosmic laws that humanity should live by, but that those laws were never properly written down, forcing mankind to figure it out for themselves. Worship only boosts its ego for a short while, blasphemy is ignored with a roll of infinite eyes. It simply doesn't care. After all, would a God who cared about the sanctity of creation in any context have let the world go to this?

He is also a believer in therianthropy, and experiences a therianthropic connection to snakes and dogs in particular. He is not outspoken about this particular belief, but it does influence his actions more than he'd care to admit.

Proficiencies: Viktor's special forces training has made him exceptional at improvising and problem solving. Given enough trash to work with, he can build a wide variety of tools and structures to suit the needs of himself and others. His background in logistics means he is also able to organize supply lines and production centers even in unstable conditions. He is also proficient in combat despite his pacifism, specializing in mid-long range firearms, though he is also skilled with hand-to-hand and improvised weaponry.

He is fluent in English, Brazilian Portuguese, and Mexican Spanish, though he can also understand other dialects of Spanish and Portuguese with a fair level of accuracy. He is also adept at reading lips and body language, and has a knowledge base of several standard hand signals that he can use to communicate basic information non-verbally if the situation calls for it.

Weaknesses: Viktor's strong sense of justice is a double-edged sword. If he believes someone to be deserving of punishment, the chances of that punishment being fitting of the crime is extremely low. Also as a result of his desire for justice, he often has trouble admitting his own mistakes and faults, as he feels justified in most of what he does. It takes hitting "find out" for him to learn that he's fucked up most of the time, and even that's not a guarantee.

For all of his logistics experience, as a result of his traumatic experiences in the military, he has a distinct disdain for authority that often veers into hostility. It isn't impossible to work with him, but all orders must be phrased delicately to avoid evoking any fear or suspicion. Should he believe that he is being ordered around callously, he will more than likely shut down and refuse to complete the assigned tasks out of spite, even if the task was one he was previously in the process of completing. Should the person giving the orders be as stubborn and unchanging as Viktor, this could lock them into a war of attrition that he will only concede in if the situation turns into a crisis.

Mental Conditions: C-PTSD, alcoholism, major depressive disorder, autism, ADHD-C, dyslexia

"I just wanna make it home // When you ship me off to war"

[BACKGROUND]

History: The son of a hopeful ex-con and a skeptically optimistic factory manager, Viktor R. Gray grew up a dirt poor American dreamer. Largely in part because of his stay-at-home father, he adopted the worldview that he could have a better life if he simply put in his best efforts and shot high in all that he did. If he or anyone else was in an unfortunate situation, it was either a test of grit or the result of a personal or familial failure. As a result, he often skipped out on social events and cut out people he viewed as a detriment to his growth. He never bothered to look further into it, even when a lack of accommodation for his undiagnosed and untreated learning disabilities led to him graduating with grades too low to obtain a scholarship and afford a higher education. He thought this was just a result of him not trying as hard as he could have, that his best efforts simply had to get better. That desperate loyalty and ambition made him a perfect target for U.S military recruiters who promised him a better life and a better country if only he had the grit to fight for it. They'd provide the path, all he had to do was follow. At 18, despite the wishes of his employed father, he enlisted in the United States Army.

At first, it was everything he had hoped for and more. A young Viktor thrived in the culture of the armed forces, reveling in how it seemed the perfect counter to the academia he had struggled so hard with. He didn't need to know how to spell or force himself to read textbooks that took all of his energy to even have a shot at comprehending, all he needed to do was follow orders to the very best of his ability, no matter how absurd or harrowing. Rather than memorization, loyalty and determination were all he needed. A passing grade was measured by how hard he could throw himself against a wall on command, nothing more. In fact, he got so good at throwing himself into walls headfirst that he was soon offered a spot on the 7th Special Forces Group. Seeing this as his opportunity to finally be something greater than himself rather than just cannon fodder, he accepted. As his ambitions grew, so did his skills. The practical nature of his work turned out to be a better teacher than common core, and learning the ins and out of logistics management had boosted his mathematics skills enough to net him the title of Engineer Sergeant. He felt like he had finally made it. He had finally become something worth bragging about. What was more, he had found love amongst the ranks in the form of the Intelligence Sergeant. They had to keep their affection under wraps, sure, but it was there. In the harshness of combat, they had softness. All he had to do was not think too hard on the blood he spilt to preserve it.

Then, it all went to hell. During an operation in Brazil, an IED followed by an ambush led to the death and capture of many of the men in Viktor's batallion, including Viktor himself. He endured weeks of torture at the hands of his captors. They pulled his teeth, broke his legs, beat him, starved him, but his spirit refused to break. Eventually, he was able to make his escape, and fled to the U.S Embassy. He pled with them to bring him home, or to at least get him checked out by a doctor. Something, anything. The Embassy contacted Viktor's superiors and, as he was being treated for his wounds, informed him that he had been legally declared dead. Peace talks were under way. His operation, officially, never happened. Therefore, when he was presumed KIA, the leadership in the 7th SFG had made the executive decision to cover up the true cause. His family received an empty box and a flag to mourn. He was sent to Australia with a new name of his choosing, some new documents to match, a small sum of money, and a cover story to live by or else.

He finally broke. He tried to pick himself up, but he felt as though it would all be for nothing. He resorted to alcohol to numb the pain that he couldn't afford the painkillers and therapy to fix. Despite trying to keep up hope for a better future, he couldn't, and he wound up back where he started: in poverty with distant dreams of a better life. Only now, he was alone. He was barred from contacting anyone from his previous life. He had come out victorious against his captors, but for what? His hard work meant nothing. All it meant was that his joints hurt worse now than they would have if he had just stayed home. All it meant was that he hid from the fireworks he used to enjoy. All it meant was that he was exhausted instead of happy.

When the news came that the planet was swiftly dying, he held sober for long enough to qualify and pay for a cryopod. He wasn't sure if the tech was safe, but he knew he couldn't live with the loneliness and disillusionment any longer. Whether it was the long sleep or the longest sleep didn't matter anymore. He just needed to escape the planet one way or another.​

 

[boqefok]

Name: Charlotte Atkins
Nickname: Charlie, Atkins/Attie
age: 32
gender (& pronouns): woman, she/they
Sexuality: lesbian

Description:
Hair: dark brown, curly
Eyes: Hazel
Height: 5’10
weight/build: ~160, definitely a lean muscular, all very functional muscle
Face Claim: Emilee Cherry

Psyche:
Through the course of their life, Charlie has found herself to be increasingly jaded with the state of the world. She’s blunt and often comes across as uncaring, but clearly maintains a hardworking, stubborn mindset to finish what she starts. Often callous and distant at the start, Charlie is well known within her close circle to be fiercely loyal and loving of those she gets close to. Charlie lives a life where being wary of those in power comes naturally and though she’s no longer quick to anger, it burns hot and true when someone manages to pull it out of her.

Strengths
Charlie’s whole life spent on a farm and fighting to make ends meet for her and her family have resulted in her being very well suited for manual labor. She is very aware of how the world turns and what people will do when put in a corner so while she might be a bit pessimistic in her expectations, she has also learned to plan ahead to be prepared no matter what comes. Charlie is typically honest, loves fiercely, and is good at keeping calm in the face of disaster or chaos. She subscribes to a “if you aren’t bothering me or hurting anyone, do whatever you want” mentality and maintains a strong sense of justice and moral code. There is kindness within Charlie and they will lend a hand when possible but they aren’t one for idle chatter or to risk what's theirs for the sake of someone else. Is good with animals.

Weaknesses
They often come off as cold and distant until close with a person. Charlie has a healthy dose of skepticism, issues with authority, strong opinions, and stubbornness which all can cause some butting heads and conflicts in places where it might be obvious to most that its easier to just let something go or not make an inflammatory comment. While she doesn’t often intercede when someone’s doing something she might judge, she does judge and she has been known to be blunt enough to vocalize said judgement with little prompting at times. They’re moderately emotionally stunted as well. She frequently is the last person to know something about her own feelings and doesn’t process Big Emotions well, typically opting to “deal with it later” (never) and move on. Overly reliant on the people they’re already close with to be their social quota for the day in a way that results in her often being kind of awkward when (reluctantly) dragged into any sort of nicety or small talk setting. Charlie never completed a formal education past a partially completed twelfth year. Is better with animals than humans. By a long shot.


Fears
They aren’t afraid of much regarding their own health or experiences, but they do worry for their mother who has grown more sick over the recent years as she aged. They worry about losing Abby again either through something happening during her research or their leaving of Charlie. They spend their entire life very aware of their financial situation and fear the day that they feel is inevitable when they overspend their income and run out of funds to feed the family. She is deeply afraid of the cryosleep-and-sleep-for-years-in-space idea but has found there to be no other option. Though Charlie has been in an airplane before, multiple times even, she has never gotten over a somewhat gripping fear of the experience. Charlie also never grew out of a discomfort with the sterile, chemical smelling environment of a doctor's office or the poking and prodding nature of a doctor. Finally, confined spaces, for example a cryopod, are not her cup of tea one bit. Charlie gets antsy in a windowless room so half the battle of getting her to agree to the cryosleep plan at all was convincing her that she'd be unconscious before she entered the pod and that she wouldn't wake up again until she was out of it. Which didn't settle her down a whole ton about it but worked out in the end.

Family:
Elijah Atkins, her father, was quiet and unreadable to a child’s eye, eternally stoic even in the face of great suffering, an affectation Charlie would eventually grow to inherit along with the farm. Though quiet, he was a gentle and kind man with an eternal patience bestowed only on those destined to raise the most rambunctious of children. He was a man born of the land, inheriting this farm from his father before him, and worked it his whole life. Charlie idolized him like another child might an action figure.
Florence Atkins was a whip smart, beaming woman always preaching peace between two siblings who were constantly at one another’s throats and always ready in the wings with answers to any difficult question a child might bring to her. She was friendly with all she spoke to, though stern at times with her children, acting as both the sword of justice and the comfort after the timeout came to an end. Florence knew the family she married into and the financial hardships she would likely face for the rest of her life and chose love over comfort time and time again, never regretting it once.
To a young Charlie, Jude was a colossal thorn in the side, picking on her like only an older brother ever could. The five year age gap between the siblings was a chasm to each of them. When Charlie and Jude weren’t picking fights with one another, they were stirring up trouble for everyone else, one second thick as thieves only to be found bickering moments later. Jude lived much the same life as Charlie; homeschooling with their mother, helping their father with the farm, and squirreling away to cause whatever problems he found himself in the fancy of creating in his free time. He was callous and rude, as teen boys often are, but he was never knowingly cruel to Charlie. When they weren’t fighting like cats and dogs, Charlie and Jude were best friends.

History:
Charlotte “Charlie” Atkins grew up rough and tumble on a small, poor farm about two hours inland from the town that would eventually become ISEP’s Otway, Australia. From the start, she was walking the farm with her father, helping where she could and learning the run of a day’s work. As time moved on, Charlie found herself homeschooled by her mother and working the farm with her father and older brother. In the free time they found in their youth, Charlie caused mischief in the old creekbed, talked with the cattle, or helped around the house. Their childhood, though afflicted by poverty and the ever raging desertification of their home, was mostly a happy one. Despite causing mischief and getting into fights with her brother, Charlie tended to be quiet and a little awkward, but an easy to please child. She stayed that way until she reached the age of secondary school. Shortly before it all changed, a man appeared at their door and sat with their parents holding hushed conversations that a 13 year old Charlie and 18 year old Jude were strictly prohibited from sitting in on. Once the man had left after his final visit, Charlie’s parents sat her down and told her what he had been discussing with them. A boarding school in Canberra was offering scholarships to the children of low-income farmers of the city’s surrounding area. Charlie was being sent to school in the city.

For the first time in their life, Charlie became truly disobedient. In the months before her departure, they found any and all instances to act out and disobey her parents. Even as they insisted it was for the best and that she would enjoy her time in the school surrounded by other kids her age, Charlie fought against the change, feeling that she was being sent away from the family and farm for something she had done. She didn’t need friends her age or any of the useless subjects a fancy, rich kid school in the city would teach her. She had the horses and cattle on the property and her family and she was confident she’d die happy if she’d never met another person as long as she lived. To her parents’ credit, they truly thought it was her best option between that and resigning to being destined to live and die on a farm that seemed to pull in less and less each year.

Charlie drifted through boarding school a ball of anger, disinterest, and boredom all the while never truly connecting with any of her peers with the exception of one. Abby Carrera. Who Charlie connected with relatively often in the form of sharp words and a wildly swung fist when her anger got the best of her. Charlie thought the school to be full of rich children who didn’t know a sick cow from a healthy one. Worse still, she knew they didn’t need to know and for that, she resented them. Though Charlie got a reputation for not taking shit from anyone, she didn’t ever physically fight anyone other than Carrera, who Charlie viewed to be something like a personal nemesis with a habit for annoying them more than any other student with her privilege and demeanor.

Despite her fighting and general resentment for the program, Charlie managed to stay at the school only through laborious studying and learning to curb her tongue whenever possible (and learning when she could get away with not holding back). Though she was obedient to her parents’ wishes for her to complete the program, eager to not disappoint them, she grew into her anger, mad that her parents would send her away from the farm and mad that she had to live so far from everyone and everything she’d ever known or loved for so long. End of the year breaks were the best times of Charlie’s life at this age. Though she butt heads with ever increasing frequency with her parents while home, she was also away from what she considered to be her own personal hell.

As she sat alone in her room on a random night in her second year at the boarding school, Charlie received word from her parents that her brother had left without warning or explanation. Any attempt to find him turned up the same thing. He was 20 years old, hadn’t stolen anything on his way out the door, had packed a bag, and had shown no signs of distress or struggle prior to leaving. With no legal grounds or personal funds to dedicate to searching for him, Jude disappeared into the wind one warm, clear night. After getting the news, Charlie waited up night after night, sure that her best and oldest friend had run away to fetch her from the school and bring her home.

Even without being home for most of the year, Charlie felt her brother’s absence actively in her life and in the letters from home. Going home was, for the first time in Charlie’s life, a truly quiet affair. There was work to be done and no one to interrupt her and make her tasks take twice as long and no one to bicker with through sharing their chores so they could finish early and take the horses out for a ride as the day ended. No one wanted to talk about it, least of all Charlie who still found a part of herself waiting up late at night for him to appear at her window and take her bug catching like he used to.

Returning to school was especially hard at the start of her third year as she had to leave her father to work the farm predominantly alone despite his age and growing used to having help since the first time since her brother had been old enough to lend a hand. Returning at the end of their third year revealed a stark difference to Charlie’s eye. Both of her parents seemed tired, overworked, but neither were willing to entertain Charlie’s proposition of staying home to help out, refusing with a stubbornness that was clearly carried by blood through the veins of the entire house. In the end, Charlie lost that battle but dedicated herself to winning the war: finishing school as her parents insisted and returning home as quickly as she could to help her father. At school, Charlie became even more quiet and distant than the years prior, seldom rising to fight even her nemesis, dedicated to her studies for the first time in the hopes that somehow it would get her home sooner.

Charlie is shocked by her father’s death. She is shocked as an administrator pulled her out of class, shocked as she walks into the front office to see her teary mother waiting. Shocked as she stood by his hospital bed. For as long as Charlie could remember, her father had a cough. Never anything serious or debilitating, just annoying in her father’s words. He brushed off concern at every turn and Charlie learned to never think anything of it. Later, her mother explains that they suspected that dust in the air and mold off the hay one year is what started it long ago, before he had even met her mother. Nothing revolutionary, nothing even truly all that lethal with care. Care they couldn’t afford. So, as long as they watched it, he did fine. Charlie drew her own conclusions about what made it worsen after so long. A sudden change in how much of the work he was doing, how much time he had to rest when needed, brought on by the sudden departure of half the workforce at home. Her mother said he had been getting winded, tired, earlier and earlier as the year went on until he struggled to breath even just as he sat still. That's when she brought him in, when he couldn’t pull enough breath into his lungs to argue against it anymore. When it was too late. He died later that day and even after watching his unconscious body fail to pull in enough air and knowing what was coming and why, Charlie was shocked.

This time with no protest from her mother, Charlie packed her bags at school, dropped out, and returned home with her mother. With no one to say goodbye to at school, Charlie left without a word to another student. Even in the wake of it taking her father, Charlie loved working on the farm. She loved working with the animals and had missed the creative puzzles and meticulous planning needed to sow, maintain, then harvest crops. As her mother drew into herself in her grief, Charlie lost herself in the manual labor of running a farm and found peace in the quiet and in conversation with creatures that couldn’t do more than moo or cluck back. Silence settled in the house like dust over the plains.

As the years passed, Charlie fell into the role of the head of the house, running the farm and doing more to handle the sales than she ever had before. The balm of having purpose and caring for her mother soothed the ache her father’s death created within her, now feeling closer to him than ever. Charlie’s mother recovered too, in time, and finally reintroduced laughter to the home. Florence resumed her tasks around the house and on the farm, returning piece by piece to the bright, happy woman that Charlie grew up knowing and just like that, or rather, slowly over multiple quiet and long years, light was brought back into the Atkins home.

Charlie moved on with life and thought little of the period of time she spent at the school, or did her best despite it being the period when everything went wrong in her life, always keen to avoid instead of address. Which made it all the more a kick in the ass when she ran into none other than her nemesis, Abby Carrera, again five years after her sudden departure from that world on a random trip into Canberra to buy some much needed goods they couldn’t conjure up on their own land. Charlie tried hiding, tried remaining unseen and thus unbothered, but just like in their school days, she never could pull herself fully out of Abby’s orbit. Through a mess of conversation that Charlie didn’t quite keep up with and definitely didn’t fully understand even as it happened, they had committed to a lunch with Abby instead of a fight like they used to. Bewildered and swept away, Charlie went along with the idea for lunch. Here she learned Abby had taken a gap year between secondary school and university to do research, learned that Abby was in town until the end of the year to finish her bachelors before thinking about a masters or research or whatever suited her fancy. At some point in the conversation, Charlie realized she was beautiful when she wasn’t making Charlie want to rip her hair out. She agreed to another lunch the following week and they decided to be friends despite their past.

Charlie and Abby spent the next year or so dancing around each other, both assuming the other planned to leave and/or weren’t interested, until Abby mentioned she planned to stay to get her masters in Otway. Eventually, one day, Abby finds she simply can't hold it in and spills her feelings on accident. The rest, as the poets say, is history. Though the two frequently differed in life experiences and personalities, Charlie and Abby were bound at the hip and fiercely loyal in all turns. They dated as the years went on, Abby working on her research and Charlie tending to the family farm. After Abby eventually proposed, which she roped Florence into helping plan, the two lived as a happily engaged couple hoping to marry someday, though not actively pursuing it, knowing - hoping - they had time to wait. Through hardship and joy, the two found a pleasant lifestyle in their love for one another.

At 30, the government told Charlie the world was ending. It had always been ending for as long as Charlie had been alive and, in truth, started ending well before Charlie was even born. The idea of a new science, cryosleep, didn’t surprise Charlie. It was something talked about in science fiction for generations. The announcement that research had begun, however, that it had progressed far enough to start taking actions to enact it, did surprise Charlie. Immediately she worried. The science as a whole was new and unfamiliar to Charlie and, for a woman who didn’t often trust the government as far as she could throw it or understand the science beyond that discussed in movies and in pop culture, she was uncertain in the faith she had in its success. But the world was ending. Soon. It was a leap of faith she had no choice but to take, so she did. Beyond feeling unsure about the science of it all, Charlie worried most of all for her mother. With a lottery draw system, it was entirely possible that she be called in before her mother, who would then be left to tend to the farm entirely on her own. Even if just for a few weeks, the strain would be great on her older mother who was unused to some of the rougher tasks that needed doing. With this in mind, Charlie and Abby talked about how to get Charlie’s mother called before Charlie. In the end, Abby offered to pull some strings, use some of her connections, to get Florence into cryosleep before they even began the lottery draw.

At 32, Charlie is drawn in the lottery. Their mother has been asleep for months at this point and she and Abby have been living life in preparation for being drawn. Charlie sold or gave away some of the animals to those electing to stay behind, releasing others so they wouldn’t be left to die in their pen and she said goodbye to the only true home she had ever known. Hand in hand with Abby, Charlie went to the facility to be entered into cryosleep, only hoping to wake with her family around her, in a new world with new hope for the future. Then she woke up on Earth.

(edited)