Realistic or Modern kuebiko - applications

[moiety]

population: 204 and depleting...
episodes | ooc | applications | in-depth

 

[moiety]

current residents

❝THERE'LL BE NO REST FOR THE WICKED❞

Desiree
20 ;; female ;; animus

Emil
23 ;; male ;; siphon

Cynthia
20 ;; female ;; siphon

Orion
tba ;; male ;; delatus

Name Here
age ;; gender ;; witch

Name Here
age ;; gender ;; witch

Name Here
age ;; gender ;; witch

Name Here
age ;; gender ;; witch

❝THERE'S NO SONG FOR THE CHOIR❞

Caius
21 ;; male ;; hardware boi

Name Here
age ;; gender ;; human

Damon
22 ;; male ;; human

Name Here
age ;; gender ;; human

Name Here
age ;; gender ;; human

Name Here
age ;; gender ;; human

Name Here
age ;; gender ;; human

Name Here
age ;; gender ;; human

❝THERE'S NO HOME FOR THE WEARY❞

Father Dawson
83 ;; male ;; the eldest

Mr. Wilms
76 ;; male ;; teacher

Mrs. Alrbright
80 ;; female ;; the richest

Sheriff Perrymen
71 ;; male ;; town sheriff

❝YOU LET THEM WIN WITHOUT A FIGHT❞

 

[moiety]

APPLICATION​

full name :: xxx
aka :: {what else do they go by?}
years :: {how old are they? preferably from 18-23}
gender :: xxx
pronouns :: xxx
romantic orientation :: xxx
sexual orientation :: xxx
born :: {date of birth}
zodiac ::
craft :: {only applicable to witches; disregard for all the humans out there}

height :: x'x"
weight :: xxxlbs
hair color :: xxx
eye color :: xxx
faceclaim :: xxx
voiceclaim :: {optional since it's a toughy} xxx
"devil's" marks :: {birthmarks, freckles, etc.}
tattoos :: xxx
other :: xxx

persona :: {it seems most the site does a set of +/- traits, so 5 of each would work, but i am partial to descriptions (or at least a description of how the trait applies to the character in what way). wHo KnOwS}
moral alignment :: {are you a good witch, or bad witch? this applies to humans as well}
quirks :: x, x, x
fears :: x, x, x
strengths :: x, x, x, x
weaknesses :: x, x, x, x
belief :: {do they believe the lies the elders spew? why or why not?}
soundtrack :: {aka theme}

biography :: {at least 3 paragraphs because the difficulty for writing these are most definitely site-wide. penny for your thoughts: is your character originally from caiser? if so, has there been supernatural affiliation in previous generations, or even now? is there a reason they may or may not believe in witches? are they suspicious of the missing? are they deep in faith, or have they strayed for certain reasons?}​

x

GOOD L I E S

test

K

 

[moiety]

.

.

.

Desiree Sanford

❝ i hope it's you that i keep ❞​

.

you can l e a r n

F U L L NAME .: desiree elizabeth sanford
A K A .: rey
Y E A R S .: twenty
G E N D E R .: cisfemale
PRONOUNS .: she/her/hers
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION .: acoromantic
SEXUAL ORIENTATION .: pansexual
B O R N .: january 20
Z O D I A C .: aquarius
C R A FT .: animus

you can w a t c h

H E I G H T .: 5'5"
W E I G H T .: 130lbs.
H A I R COLOR .: dark brown
E Y E COLOR .: light blue
FACECLAIM .: rachael lange
VOICECLAIM .: maggie greene (lauren cohan) in the walking dead
"DEVIL'S" M A R K S .: n/a
TATTOOS .: n/a
O T H E R .: sullen eyes, a button nose, and pouted lips are what usually set desiree out from the rest

you can f e e l

P E R S O N A .: where there lacked in height, she made up for in self-reliance. no one can benefit her more than herself. no one can care for her the way she can. she's lost faith in all the right people, and she says she's content being so solitary. what is trust without vulnerability? what is vulnerability without consequential weakness? or maybe it's an armor she uses rather well. there's visible damage on her knees down to her calves but that's why knee-high socks were invented, right? desiree's a girl full of cover-ups, smirked riddles, and cigarette smoke that blows into the eyes of others just to feel a similar sting. for someone who has a lot of chaos in her home, she's full of an internal temperance. and she's got this way of seeing the world like it's some big landscape she's admiring at a museum; everyone's just a little acrylic man or woman she can't stop smiling at; and with her there's always a smile, somber and sweet and somehow wise despite not being able to fix her own problems. she's afraid to talk unless she's spoken to like she were trained similar to a dog to do so. oh, but she's defensive -- vigilant in making sure her walls and her socks stay up while she digs her scuffed boots in the dirt before her lips would ever open again.
M O R A L ALIGNMENT .: chaotic good
Q U I R K S .: only has one dimple, has a little drawl when she talks, can't be caught without a pack of cigarettes tucked in her boots, alternately always carries some tarot card in her boots as well, uses curse alternatives (i.e. crap, dipstick, good grief)
F E A R S .: blood, smashed bottles, harsh judgement, locked rooms
STRENGTHS .: rhetoric, observation (a people-watcher), reading lips, climbing trees
WEAKNESSES .: being confronted, pressure, her family, corners
B E L I E F .: while she surely doesn't believe her kind are anything remotely evil, desiree acts as though there's no other word to go by than that of her elders. two sides to a coin, two sides to a coin.
SOUNDTRACK .: city by seavera

but you will not f o r g e t

tw...the patter on the window panes looked like dripped watercolors over the sunset sky. perhaps that was answer enough to what gifts the goddess granted the newborn girl, despite all the blessings to hope she wasn't gifted at all. they were "dangerous times," as the trials were still public knowledge then. if anything, the dangerous times came after.

they were simpler enough to embrace her abilities, nestled beneath the talented wings of her mother who'd been the only other supernatural in the home. her father was a teller at the local bank, and he swore up and down that if one were to read his cards when he met her mother, he would have denied he'd be so lucky to be where he was. but those cards would have foreshadowed the looming figure inked on all of desiree's scrap pieces of paper; the one that'd reap a single soul just to leave the rest in memory. her father's cards might have spoken of his future fortune, love, and birth -- all good things in the eyes of a hopeful man -- he'd never get to the fourth and fifth cards. those were met with personally at death's door.

she sat on some other tombstone in the cemetery, swinging her small little legs off the side, when she watched him return to the earth under father dawson's obituary. and she remembers some sketch on a torn piece of notebook paper that she'd throw in before the dirt could forget. desiree was still young, though, there were things she chose to leave behind her.

on many occasions did she bring her imaginary friends to life after several tries to get them "just right." they kept her company when her mother wept, when suspicion of witches grew quiet but deadly, and when her step-father weaseled apathetically into their home.

her mother never intended for desiree to lose more than a father in the presence of someone who was supposed to fill the role just the same. from dark figures to deep, cool colors did her art shift -- if only to warn her of things she did not yet know. the sanford's were, as it seemed, cursed with hindsight amongst other things. mrs. sanford would leave to grab the groceries, while her new husband grabbed, too, without acknowledging the price. he said she was old enough to be an adult now: sixteen was old, of course.

and frankly, she's far too numb and composed to give a care what horrid things happen behind all the other closed doors in caiser. that's what happens in small towns anyway. desiree often wonders what people pray for if not to leave these precious grounds. her mother might still be oblivious, her step-father less of what he used to be in contrast to being far more degrading, but desiree's considered herself capable of handling all things herself. when someone only knows one use for who they are, they tend to repeat it. call her a sinner, but she grew up to be so. she's simply comprised of a couple layers to cover the legs and bury her thoughts in sketchbooks cheated as bibles so the saints don't judge.

❝ follow my body ❞

❝ it is not property ❞

❝ it is much more than
that ❞

❝ and i wish you could see ❞

❝ that i don't know you well enough ❞

 

[nymphadora.]

{ summer-rose davenport - fc: nicole zimmermann }

[x] her name is summer but she was born in autumn
[x] writes 24/7 mostly about leo but she hasn't met him yet
[x] wears glasses but she feels so insecure
[x] she's a tiny person tbh.
[x] only child but had a million pets
[x] her parents angsts more than she does
[x] no one is allowed to look through her book otherwise she'll fight you.​

 

[ataraxia]

damon

"is this a memory or a dream?"​

 

[ataraxia]

CYNTHIA ALIZON JAGGER
alias: thia; age: 20; gender: female, she/her; orientation: biromantic, bisexual; birthday: april 19; zodiac: aries; craft: siphon; height: 5'6; weight: 132lbs; hair: brown, straight; eyes: green; faceclaim: cartia mallan; voice claim: holland roden; devil's marks: n/a​

as long as you love me, this could get ugly

PERSONA & PREFERENCES
personality: to say that cynthia was an ordinary person is an understatement in multiple ways. from the magic that she could siphon to her general personality, there was nothing ordinary about the girl. her cold and apathetic outlook on those who she felt did not deserve her care was evident as she watched the death fill the town without a blink of an eye. she seems childlike in some ways, and sinister in others.

when with someone she cares for, her personality shifts to the carefree girl she should have always been. giggly, happy, a flirt. when she's not with someone she cares for she's cold, ruthless, seductive. quick to pull back the finger of anyone who touches her without her desire, while simultaneously soft and ready to bury herself into the arms of the man she loves.

moral alignment: chaotic neutral

quirks: keeps magic stored in jewelry to siphon when she needs it; only ever wears skirts and dresses; prone to spacing out; touches people when she wants to focus on what they're saying

fears: herself; hurting caius; desiree or orion being taken

strengths: very talented in spell casting; sewing; can recite any bible verse off the top of her head; fears very little

weaknesses: physically she's not very strong; fuck running; can't cook???; has episodes where she dissociates and becomes violent and aggressive

belief: she talks big talk about the bible and the way witches should burn, but she'd much rather watch the elders burn instead.

theme: ugly; jaira burns

BIOGRAPHY
tw: abuse

the jagger family seemed perfect, even to the city's elders. they were able to keep their magic concealed and tended to avoid the more open witches of the coven. they seemed fine. but everything seems fine outside of closed doors. their first born, a son, was born without magic. they were furious, and had a daughter merely two years later.

seemingly without magic as well, they refused to stand for it. the things they did to the little girl were horrendous, and they carried on for years. it didn't ease until she accidentally siphoned magic from one of their friends. they were pleased, but they continued the abuse to push the limits of her magic. she would sleep for days.

her older brother was none the wiser, he never saw it. he was busy trying to protect his best friend from the very thing happening in his own home. on his eighteenth birthday they ran away together, only to crash their car and be presumed dead. cynthia didn't cry, despite him being one of the only people she ever loved.

it was but a month later that she gripped her parents' wrists, siphoning their magic for their latest test of her strength. she was becoming increasingly stronger, mastering more and more spells as she went. but then she felt the way their hearts slowed as she siphoned more and something in her head snapped. they told her to stop, they screamed. she didn't care.

should she have cared? did she want to care? she didn't know anymore. their bodies hit the floor and she carefully placed their magic in various trinkets. except for just enough to cast one spell, preventing herself from ever continuing the family bloodline. she would never bear a child.

two days after her parents' deaths she received a letter from her older brother. he was okay, he hoped she was. she didn't write back. she didn't know what it meant to be okay. sixteen years old and an orphan. scarred and scared. she didn't know how to breathe on her own anymore.

that episode was the first of many, continuously getting worse as they came and went.

orion, her half-brother from her father's unknown affair, took her into his home in an attempt to stop her from hurting herself or others worse than she already had. she only ever told him, desiree, and later caius the truth about what happened that night. what happened every night.

"am i a monster?"

"no, no."

she didn't know if she should believe that. she slept her way through the town, letting anyone use her for what they wanted. anything that made her feel. but nothing did, until she met caius. that's when the numbness dissipated.

 

[tsuneni]

Leonardo Rosali​

FC || MAXENCE DANET-FAUVEL
[x] half italian and half french
[x] he honestly doesn't realize that he's hot af
[x] puns and pick-up lines for days
[x] don't get him drunk he'll scream in your face
[x] all of his girlfriends have dumped him
[x] never shows that he's in true pain
[x] if girls can wear his shirts why can't he wear their shirts
[x] takes the best fucking photos
[x] pure af and if you hurt him i hurt you
[x] romantic leo is way better than drunk leo
[x] had three younger sisters and loves them with all his heart
[x] doesn't have a lot of friends but he's okay
​

 

[ataraxia]

orion

"they clipped my wings and forgot i had claws."​

 

[tsuneni]

• overview
• character sheet

• 
  

  

  
  

  A U G E R I S
  
  — kinda lonely but it's okay
  — she's really freakin sweet
  — kinda innocent kinda not
  — is the type to take midnight walks
  — loves the animals on her farm​
• meh

 

[moiety]

.

.

.

Caius Richlin
❝ it's not safe to s e e k the
attention ❞

.

hearsay, hearsay, h e a r s ay

F U L L NAME .: caius anthony richlin
A K A .: cai, tony
Y E A R S .: twenty-one
G E N D E R .: cismale
PRONOUNS .: he/him/his
ROMANTIC ORIENTATION .: biromantic
SEXUAL ORIENTATION .: heterosexual
B O R N .: january 18
Z O D I A C .: capricorn

judge, judge, j u d g e

H E I G H T .: 6'4"
W E I G H T .: 182lbs.
H A I R COLOR .: dark brown/black
E Y E COLOR .: blue
FACECLAIM .: landon falgoust
VOICECLAIM .: james maslow
"DEVIL'S" M A R K S .: n/a
TATTOOS .: n/a
O T H E R .: his cute ears stick out just a little

try, try, t r y

P E R S O N A .: there's a fine line between uninterested and cold, but caius makes it a goddamn 5k. snide retorts make other comments roll clean off his shoulders so he doesn't have to admit he's wholeheartedly, painstakingly tired. there's no bags under his eyes but it doesn't take a genius to know that weight is carried on his back -- layer upon layer as his years add from thirteen. he's unruffled because there's nothing left for him to fight over. what light that flashes through his baby blue's is sly and meddling now, tainted by dark hearts and little care. his smirk is that of a trickster's and he plays the game damn well; impulsive, deceptive, and rigid. the oil and soot on his calloused hands is carried from manual labor in a store he doesn't own, in a town he doesn't want to be in. but it sates his bitterness -- it's better to hit metal against metal than a wrench over an elder's skull.
M O R A L ALIGNMENT .: lawful neutral
Q U I R K S .: doesn't laugh that often but when he does it comes out short like a scoff, always crosses his arms in front of him when he stands for long periods, whistles when he works, always has on an old family ring
F E A R S .: fire, heights, being restrained, suffocation
STRENGTHS .: quick on his feet, intimidation, mechanics, hand-to-hand combat
WEAKNESSES .: any mention of his parents, helpless people, goodbyes, kids
B E L I E F .: falling in a ditch would be easier than believing the lies.
SOUNDTRACK .: hollow by cloudeater

blame, blame, b l a m e

the richlin name was quite popular in caiser once upon a time. it was all thanks to one,
several great's grandfather to bring the good ol' model T car into town for the first time, sparking the first and last car dealership to grace inside the borders. the business boomed, horses were slow anyway. that lasted a solid twelve generations before the place was torn down in the fall of their reputable name.

superstition said that thirteen was an unlucky number, and whoever denied that fact would be someone caius had no business with. marking the thirteenth generation wasn't an honor in any way, shape, or form. it brought bad luck, they say. they were right. they didn't do anything but watch honors break like he did. but they
also weren't there that night.

he had what small town folks call luxury and that didn't say much but it said enough. new shoes, cute little ties he'd never care to learn how to do, and slicked back hair like he was set for business. his mother wore those pearls that one always associated with audrey hepburn, and his father couldn't be any more of a salesman if he tried. it was all back when mrs. albright still held tea parties for all the "blossoming" women of caiser, or held southern belle balls in her grand foyer. there was a time in which caiser was almost normal -- there were no fingers to point blame, at least not so obviously as they are now, and everything was smiles and banjos under fairy lights and swing your partner round 'n' round.

until his father became just a little too good at haggling with those few who were skeptical of a new car, and his mother couldn't let her lover go down alone. they looked like witches of course.

but they weren't. and as many times as caius yelled it in his cracked voice, the elders tightened the ropes around their wrists just as dusk broke the skyline. she kept telling him to look away but he was too stubborn to listen;
everyone always said he had too much of his father in him anyway. what hurt the most wasn't the sight, his mind blurred it all now anyway, but their admittance to the crimes they never committed. they pleaded guilty yet the only guilty ones were those who pulled the lever and caused the drop.

he looks his demons in the eye everyday and wonder why he's so crass. the hardware store he wastes and works away in stands right before the gallows in the square, but no one hears any complaints from him. his family's business is long gone, but he'll still roll under cars or sweat under hoods for the sake of simply doing something. when in doubt, if one needed to find the last richlin boy, listen for the yells of the sheriff: they have scheduled arguments every wednesday at four.

❝ i won't sink, i won't
wallow ❞

❝ in this dream that i have
borrowed ❞

❝ so don't lead, i won't follow ❞

❝ i awaken with the
thunder ❞

❝ cause i'm hollow, hollow, hollow ❞

 

[daarinaa]

━━━━━━━✦ｓｅｂａｓｔｉａｎ✦━━━━━━━

≪━─━─━─━─◈─━─━─━─━≫≪━─━─━─━─◈─━─━─━─━≫
'there's always a black sheep in rich families. Too bad it had to be me.'

Sebastian Roman Mai III is the eldest son of a picket fence family. Sadly, he doesn't take much from his mother or father. He takes more from his dog Vegas.
He despises when people say 'Oh, you're Darla and Joshua's son!' or the cliche 'You must be such a kind boy like your father.'

"Screw rich kids."

he tends to have a habit of getting drunk out of his mind, or getting drugged to the point he can't count how many fingers he has. Though, if you're lucky enough to catch him sober, he's the biggest heart throb you've ever met. The most genuine sweethearted angel! But that's never, so instead he's a sex crazy, rude, sarcastic, bar fight addicted teenage boy who doesn't know what the hell manners are.

'be more like your father, Roman. you could use it.'

He'll literally beat you to death if you call him Roman, or Mai. For your own sake and mine,
call him Bash.

​

 

[nymphadora.]

dylan bishop
→ a constellation of freckles ←​

 

[propriis]

isidora volkov

x

has entered the building;

〔 augeris 〕

coming soon . . .

a code by moiety

 

[propriis]

sylvain draghi

x

has entered the building;

〔 delatus 〕

coming soon . . .

a code by moiety

 

[propriis]

cyrene galinski

x

has entered the building;

〔 human 〕

coming soon . . .

a code by moiety

 

[s a u d a d e]

▰ adeline gallego ▰

coming soon

 

[s a u d a d e]

▰ brookes galloway ▰

coming soon

 

[s a u d a d e]

▰ diana knox ▰

coming soon

 

[s a u d a d e]

▰ wyatt fields ▰

coming soon

 

[s a u d a d e]

▰ camden flynn ▰

coming soon

 

[s a u d a d e]

▰ rhys galloway ▰

coming soon

 

[s a u d a d e]

▰ victoria knox ▰

coming soon