Realistic or Modern 𝙊𝙘𝙚𝙖𝙣'𝙨 𝙍𝙚𝙩𝙞𝙧𝙚𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩 — character sheets

[cavitea]

The Retirees.

Hi and welcome to Ocean's Retirement, a heist roleplay! I only have a couple of reminders before explaining how characters sheets will work:

✂ Most roles are already reserved so read through the three that are open carefully!
✂ While the roles posted as 'open' are the most needed, please feel free to submit your own role either here to to me in private messages.
✂ Role descriptions are just a concept of the character but do not need to be rock solid so feel free to twist them as you need to be.
✂ LGBT+ and diversity are welcome!
✂ Unless you are playing the rookie your character should be in the 40's - 60's age range.
✂ Quality > Quantity. Codes are not necessary neither are full character sheets! Some people have presented merely an idea and an FC while others have fleshed out more.
✂ This is not a first come, first serve roleplay.

Current Cast.

If you are already part of the accepted please feel free to put down your characters as examples for others to see!

That all being said please feel free to reach out to me with any further questions or concerns regarding this roleplay.

Happy Heisting!

 

[cavitea]

Come forth my dear friend, my missing of you has increased only sevenfold over the years. Meet me as I meet you.

The Leader.

Synopsis: Braised marks mar the flesh of meat and venom, sickly brandings spelling the crimes of a body once breathing and well. Rustic bars hold shut then the piercing questions that come behind stiffened lips worn weary in age. A breath is inhaled, anticipation that stings with the regrets of a child rarely held and the hurtful dismissals rightfully deserved. She had never truly meant to find herself wrapped in the silks of a criminal life but it happened so smoothly with the first and second fires. Footprints left in the mud were only the beginnings of an age pouring through the schemes of the world, smoothing over the velveteen wrinkled by brushing shoulders with the greats. Of course, that would be her one day; if she had anything to say about it, that is.

Winifred Caldwell, known as 'Winnie' by select few is a woman of brass age and bitten insults. She was raised to hold her chin high and expectations higher until glass shattered and the revelation of humanity's disgust drove her to crime. A mother, a grandmother, a crime circle-running maniac that stared into male-centric roles and snapped her limbs. She's the boss of her own circle, a sculptor of her own statues and born with the rage of a widow.

Before her now sits the option to bring back the crew once meticulously cultivated and ask them, once more, to pledge loyalty before her flames.

Headcanons:

wip.

Winifred Potts Caldwell | The Leader

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outfit | Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet

tag | Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet

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[mousecreant]

wanting to get this down fast since im doing stuff soon- can provide more info + a cs later if wanted!

the flex - sonno rayes
48 in age. when he was younger, he was a lone travelling thief and conman. his previous experience leads him to do well in his group role; being flexible and able to slip past anything from his former experience as a thief, and the ability to charm his way out of trouble from his experience as a conman. he loves riches and will take any opportunity to get his hands on them.

he met the undercover two decades ago, who soon tried to convince him to join her group. “you already do this stuff on your own, won’t it be easier with others? we’ll make sure you’re safe, and we’ll give you treasures larger than any you’ve seen.” he wanted to say no, but she pressed until he complied.

in personality, he’s cunning, a hothead, self-centered, and courageous.

FC: unsure yet ;; he’s a short dark-skinned filipino/asian who wears his dark medium-length hair in a ponytail.

 

[miyabi]

coded by bad ending

Hiroyuki Sanada

DEMOLITIONIST

Explosives specialist

& unstable genius.

And, baby what do you expect? / Gonna burst into flames, ah / Burning down the house / Don't wanna hurt nobody / Some things sure can sweep me off my feet

THE DEMOLITIONIST

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Donec aliquam eget quam eu aliquet. Donec lacinia vitae dolor eu volutpat. Phasellus in magna sit amet quam mattis viverra. Nam porttitor nibh a pharetra tincidunt. Curabitur iaculis egestas eros vitae porttitor. Suspendisse efficitur bibendum lorem, eu blandit nisi finibus sit amet. Sed nisi velit, venenatis id commodo nec, semper vel orci. Suspendisse aliquet eget quam nec malesuada. Aenean scelerisque lectus vitae ipsum luctus egestas eu interdum mi. Integer faucibus fermentum euismod. Suspendisse dictum nibh sed varius commodo. Etiam lacinia augue congue velit cursus hendrerit. Donec pharetra lectus sapien, non commodo libero vestibulum id. Nunc vitae ex eget tellus faucibus viverra. Sed sodales nunc ut nulla pharetra consequat.

Morbi a vulputate massa, eget pellentesque sapien. Maecenas eget turpis mi. Donec quis libero ut massa mollis volutpat. Proin tristique, arcu eget ullamcorper auctor, tellus lectus posuere risus, eu auctor quam libero pellentesque sapien. Quisque congue, justo quis dignissim porttitor, est velit consequat erat, nec pharetra nisi odio a nibh. Nunc consectetur tellus vitae dolor commodo sodales. In lacinia sapien quis porttitor feugiat.

Quisque tristique elementum blandit. Nulla facilisi. Nulla sed faucibus lectus, id dictum tellus. Aliquam quis libero sem. Vestibulum ante ipsum primis in faucibus orci luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia curae; Nullam id tellus vel tellus euismod imperdiet. Pellentesque at magna nibh. Aenean fringilla risus ac lorem dapibus ornare. Mauris consectetur dolor metus. Nunc ut dignissim massa, id sodales lectus. Nulla vel interdum odio. Maecenas imperdiet, turpis non aliquam suscipit, erat mauris sollicitudin lacus, eu feugiat sem elit eu mi.

BILLY TAKEUCHI | the demolitionist.

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AGE | 52 years old.

P.O.B. | las vegas, nevada.

tag | Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet

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[ravensunset]

janice van wyck

the breakout.

name.

janice van wyck

pronouns.

she/her

age.

sixty-two

role.

the getaway driver

you put me down, you want me dead. you don't even know me that well! i never cry, but i was in pain too, because of her. who is the villain? i was the villain in this novel. hey, yo, god or author? i'm going to hell, but not alone. in this play i can't see, i will change the ending.

is this my last supper?

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Praesent id tempor lectus. Etiam sit amet tortor sagittis, venenatis nisl vel, aliquam augue. Nullam hendrerit placerat diam, quis mattis tellus maximus at. Duis dignissim ac mi in varius. Nulla facilisi. Phasellus accumsan ante a lorem aliquam, vel euismod eros egestas. Etiam auctor enim nunc, ac rutrum ex pellentesque vitae. Integer quis elit ante. In imperdiet volutpat libero non euismod. Integer ullamcorper dictum turpis quis auctor. Aenean quis magna placerat, facilisis urna sit amet, auctor turpis.

it's hot and sweet...

i'll never die, even if it's your sad ending.

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[Wandering Owl]

bec alvarado

the brawn

Synopsis

She had burned brightly, back then. A watchful knight, never the most outspoken or effervescent, but with a fire behind her eyes, a sense that she was a participant in some grand cause. The team had meant more to her than she’d had chance to find the words for. She hoped they remembered it, in their absence.

She’s older now. Wiser, some might say - she’s not too sure. Maybe blunter would be a better word. Life has worn away edges once clearly-defined, like a battered shard of glass. Her armor is tarnished, her fire raked down to embers. It is a simpler cause now, that she stakes herself on, that pulls her back. I’m not losing anyone else. Not if I can fucking help it.


Headcanons

• Called Bec almost universally. Rebecca is only for official paperwork, or if you're very angry with her.
• Worked a lot of shitty security jobs in college and afterwards, which is where she first came into contact with the group.
• Pragmatic, tends to focus on base-level tangible details
• Often ends up keeping group conversations grounded and on-topic when things escalate too far
• Flat affect and dry humor can make it very hard to tell when she’s joking
• Quiet makes words count
• Has an interest in fungal biology, which she’s taken up a little more seriously in the interim. It’s not hugely profitable, but she thinks she's earned some peace
• Gender is a shrug and an “I dunno, call me what you like.” Defaults to she/her, since that’s what people tend to use.
• Will move mountains for you in the background before actually admitting in words that she cares

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[blue-jay]

C:\Users\Bianca_Benson\Documents\Personal_Information

the tech ❅

A snowflake was falling through the cold blue streets of South Side Chicago. A quiet girl sat at the back of a class, staring out the door and longing for the computer lab. Here, she was no one. Myopic—her glasses had thick frames that earned her teasing from a pair of girls who sat across from her. Big front teeth. She didn't bother with her hair, so it was pulled behind her in a small ponytail. She never spoke. Did nothing. No sports. No clubs. She was invisible most of the time, and, when she wasn't, she wanted to be. However, put her behind a keyboard and she grew exponentially—a snowflake into a blizzard. Tech was comfort. Tech was possibility. Tech was determination. The internet was still a frontier, something that most kids may have taken for granted but not Bianca.

When she was in the computer lab, she blossomed and glittered like icy fractals.

She graduated high school and found herself stuck, like many kids in her area. Opportunities were scarce. So, she made them. She couldn't get by on natural talent alone, however. She found mentors, not in institutions (colleges, startups, etc.) but in the world around her. Much like the internet, Chicago was a frontier that many took for granted. With no formal education, Bianca mastered computers—hardware and software. When it was time to put her skills to use, she looked to her mentors—the only people who had ever really seen her or believed in her—for guidance. They introduced her to the world of cybercrime, and she never looked back.

Like any frontier, the internet needed outlaws.

Bianca was more than willing to take on the role.

She's reserved but confident and sarcastic. Easy to annoy but difficult to fluster. She has a unique sense of humor and a special way of handling social situations that could only have really been gained through spending one's entire adolescence in relative isolation. She likes quiet when working but is more than happy to rant about her work. She dresses stylishly, but it always feels strangely forced—as if dressing well were simply a task to check off a to-do list.

bianca benson | the tech

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age | fifty-two

p.o.b. | chicago, illinois

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[demonology]

coded by bad ending

elysia crampton

SUPPLY

tombraider, spy

& arms-dealer

inga montoya

the supply.

name.

inga paola caldwell-montoya

pronouns.

she/her

age.

fifty

role.

the arms supplier

greed, greed, greed. you flush us out with your spit, and then you choke them down. you're sand, so quick to run us all dry. it will never be enough... our child, our life... it will never be enough. You taste us on your tongue, don't you? Yet, we go down, down, down.

when will you be full...

We have no chance of recovering . . .
Sharin’ hospital:
joy & misery

A series of beds: motel-red sheets, dorm-room jersey-cotton, duck-down & a duvet cover, crib layers and finally, simple sheets & a fuzzy blanket bought for cheap. Their underbellies always frightened her, and she still cannot sleep without checking them, poking at the hot-white underbelly. Eventually, the number of monster-checks shrunk under pretenses of safety, of familiarity. Caldwell folklore say she ate them; that she became them, whereas she noted they only increased once the divorce papers went through.

Put out the fire, boys.

Curdled milk with chunks rose to the top. Beneath, decay ensues, much like a scab facilitates healing. She is unsure which applies to her: the milk or the blood clot. The curd or the scab. She ponders for a moment, studying the jug, before dumping the putrid liquid down the kitchen sink. A week past the expiration date. She studies this too before crushing the plastic under her palms. A bittered reminder of what was but is now lost.

Moving the baby formula container across the counter, she holds it down, as though it too is a scab. Then, she rips her hand from it and ponders the papers spread out across the marble top. Separation. A peeling back of the sheets, a peeling back of a wound, dumped liquid down the sink. Separation. A week ago, she had a hungry bird screaming across the counter. A week ago, she had someone to argue with in deep-jeweled tones that cut with diamond edges. A week ago, she had a family.

Put out the fire
On us

She’s laid up; a job gone wrong. She hasn’t done well on solo jobs — at least, not as well as she could be. There was an elegance to her infancy; every theft, every mission, every deal was an intricate kintsugi. She found little joy in it now, without anyone to build off of or to stand in her way. There is no challenge to it, and it made her sloppy. She cares little about getting caught; in fact, she thinks it may draw attention to her. A phone rang in her pocket. It had been one she wanted to answer. A bullet cares little for a child’s birthday, and she is sent to the hospital.

She had expected her ex-husband to come. She had thought, at least I will see them. Her logic follows from years of experience: attention is won when blood is spilt. She had not anticipated the power of a hospital visit; how it always drags people back into the undertow of your remedial drama. However, she was one to use it if it meant she’d see her kid.

Unfortunately, attention is won when blood is spilt, and Winnifred found her just as easily as she had lost Ezra. A snarl formed at the woman’s presence once the dilaudid cooled enough to where she could discern who was sitting on the foot of her rather uncomfortable bed.

“What do I owe the honor?”

Winifred explained to her daughter-in-law her premise. The promises built within this heist. The more she talked, the more Inga began to unravel. Later, she will claim her agreement came from a drug-haze, but in truth, her heart pleads to no longer check under the bed.

OLD CHARACTER SHEET

it's hot and sweet...

i did not choose him, he did not choose me

♡coded by uxie♡

 

[orpheus.]

/*top banner*/

...with your feet on the air and your head on the ground...

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britt potts

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the rookie

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© weldherwings.

 

[august.]

the eyes.

gwenyth alicent amery.

gwenyth (gwen-ith): derived from the word gwenith, which means "wheat," but the name can also mean "happiness; fair bow; blessed ring."
alicent (al-ih-sent): deriving from the more common Allison, Alicent is a girl's name of German origin. It means "noble" and "exalted,"
amery (am-airy): the name became a part of england’s naming system during the 1066’s Norman conquest. It is derived from the old french word amauri, which means “diligent ruler.”

the basics.

name

gwenyth alicent amery

nickname

gwen (which she prefers), amery (anything is preferable to gwenyth)

date of birth

december 27th

age

forty one

gender

cis-female (she/her)

place of birth

new orleans, louisiana

sexuality

bisexual

the visage.

height

5ft7

build

slight, willowy, all sharp edges with a good layer of muscle and a surprising amount of strength. it’s usually in gwen’s favour to go unnoticed so she’s prone to leaning against doorways or hunching over, rounding her shoulders and obscuring parts of her face.

hair

a rich red colour, shoulder length, with heavy bangs, often left loose or swooped back into a ponytail.

eyes

a dark brown, almost black. narrowed, half lidded, or obscured by the sun, she manages to see everything. if you come face to face with her they can have an unnerving quality, remaining perpetually dark, like the light can never quite catch them.

distinguishing features

a smattering of freckles across her face, and a lightened with age, healed, scar running from across her left collar bone to her shoulder.

body modifications

a row of piercings up her cartilage and a small number 13 on her right ankle

face claim

jessica chastain

the personality.

Gwen isn’t much of a conversationalist. Shy to a fault in her youth, she spent most of her time by herself in her own head with a vibrant imagination and a penchant for avoiding others. Over time that timid nature evolved into a withdrawn, cold, deliberate silence and careful choice of words that transformed her childish meekness into an apathetic, indifferent demeanour. When Gwen does open her mouth, it’s well thought out. Although accented by her country lilt, she’s been known to come across as well spoken.

Once upon a time, she was book smart, college educated. But over the years, the knowledge she deemed frivolous was replaced with a more streetwise bounty of information.
Her brain is always a few steps ahead of the rest of her body, constantly thinking has made her the sort of person who expects little pause between question and answer. So usually, she’s on the same page as the people she interacts with but has also made her impatient when others fail to grasp concepts she deems rudimentary. No challenge is too steep in her eyes, Gwen is willing to sacrifice blood, sweat and tears no matter who it belongs to, to get what she wants. Although ambitious, her plans and presumptions tend to exist within the realm of reason, for the most part her feet remain firmly on the ground with her head steadily on her shoulders.

For all of her level headed, logical facets, Gwen’s desire for what she can’t have always manages to influence her actions, Gwen is no philanthropist, in fact the well of selflessness inside her is more of a shallow puddle. She comes first, and others usually aren't called into question until she’s knee deep in some incredibly high-stakes, dangerous plan that’s put everyone around her in harm’s way. She wouldn’t call herself a master manipulator, but she is no stranger to getting what she wants through deception. However, she does not enjoy violence. She enjoys the results it reaps but is actually quite squeamish and would prefer to avoid or outsource any bloodshed where possible, which is rarely the case. So, she prefers to get things done quickly, acting with ruthless, merciless force.

the virtues.

intelligent

cunning

perceptive

realistic

quick thinking

the vices

selfish

greedy

cold

deceitful

self serving

likes.

cigarettes, coffee, cats, gold jewellery, roses, lavender-scented things, bathbombs, expensive skincare, vintage stores

dislikes.

loud music, dry weather, meek people, snakes, poetry, large crowds

the eyes.

Gwen has always been an observer. That's how, she was told, she would succeed: ‘hold your tongue Gwenyth and everyone reveals themselves in the end’. After honing a talent for picking up on the subtleties and nuances of other people’s body language, the way they spoke and how they carried themselves, she discovered there was very little she needed to do, just watch and like her father said, everything would come out in the end.

‘The eyes’ discovered there was very little she needed to do or say, just watch and everything would come out in the end. Searching for opportunity in the whispered secrets of drunk bar patrons, the stilted interactions between corrupt police chiefs and their blackmailers, and any other sorry soul who manages to cross her path. In her boundless mission to obtain what she craves; power, material goods, respect, ‘the eyes’ is willing to lend her services to a group she believes will get her there.

‘The eyes’, an almost mystic figure lurking in darkened corners and abandoned alleyways, a fairytale really, with stories of her omnipresence and uncanny ability to read a man’s mind have been greatly exaggerated. Gwen doesn’t have any interest in being a tall tale, but she hasn’t actively discouraged it either. If that’s what it takes she supposes it’ll be worth it.

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[triples]

esther.

scent of flowers in eternal night

the distraction

Fortune is pain, bliss is blind. You lose your mind chasing your desires. The scent of flowers in eternal night; she's there even in your dreams.

the distraction

Lorem ipsum dolor sit amet, consectetur adipiscing elit. Donec aliquam eget quam eu aliquet. Donec lacinia vitae dolor eu volutpat. Phasellus in magna sit amet quam mattis viverra. Nam porttitor nibh a pharetra tincidunt. Curabitur iaculis egestas eros vitae porttitor. Suspendisse efficitur bibendum lorem, eu blandit nisi finibus sit amet. Sed nisi velit, venenatis id commodo nec, semper vel orci. Suspendisse aliquet eget quam nec malesuada. Aenean scelerisque lectus vitae ipsum luctus egestas eu interdum mi. Integer faucibus fermentum euismod. Suspendisse dictum nibh sed varius commodo. Etiam lacinia augue congue velit cursus hendrerit. Donec pharetra lectus sapien, non commodo libero vestibulum id. Nunc vitae ex eget tellus faucibus viverra. Sed sodales nunc ut nulla pharetra consequat.

Morbi a vulputate massa, eget pellentesque sapien. Maecenas eget turpis mi. Donec quis libero ut massa mollis volutpat. Proin tristique, arcu eget ullamcorper auctor, tellus lectus posuere risus, eu auctor quam libero pellentesque sapien. Quisque congue, justo quis dignissim porttitor, est velit consequat erat, nec pharetra nisi odio a nibh. Nunc consectetur tellus vitae dolor commodo sodales. In lacinia sapien quis porttitor feugiat.

Quisque tristique elementum blandit. Nulla facilisi. Nulla sed faucibus lectus, id dictum tellus. Aliquam quis libero sem. Vestibulum ante ipsum primis in faucibus orci luctus et ultrices posuere cubilia curae; Nullam id tellus vel tellus euismod imperdiet. Pellentesque at magna nibh. Aenean fringilla risus ac lorem dapibus ornare. Mauris consectetur dolor metus. Nunc ut dignissim massa, id sodales lectus. Nulla vel interdum odio. Maecenas imperdiet, turpis non aliquam suscipit, erat mauris sollicitudin lacus, eu feugiat sem elit eu mi.

Esther Hou Xiulan (侯秀兰) | The Distraction

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49 | Bar Owner | Former Con-Artist

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[noxrequiem]

No, I never saw it coming / I should be up and running / Instead of walking right back into danger, danger, danger / But you can keep me up all night

THE FLEX

Description
Standing poised and graceful at a height of 5’6 and with the lean, lithe body type of a lifelong athlete and dancer is Nika Markova. A mixed woman of Chinese and Russian descent, her discipline as an acrobat and gymnast has kept her fit and spry even as she starts to push her fifties. Silky black hair is kept long and past the shoulders, the perfect length for a versatile range of styles and updos. Deep brown eyes sit in a smooth face only beginning to show signs of aging as the shallowest of wrinkles begin to make their marks. She would consider herself a bit of a plain Jane in terms of beauty, not quite exceptional in any aesthetic sense as her features are quite unremarkable. But it isn’t in the way her face looks or her body is shaped; it’s in the way she carries herself. That alone gives her a certain quality of attractiveness capable of drawing in the eyes of many. No matter what, there is an air of confidence in her step wherever she goes.

Personality
There is only a single word truly befitting the description of Nika Markova: audacious. “Confidence will get you everywhere,” she says. And for her, it has. As an acrobat, there was never any room for doubt—even the briefest moments of hesitation would result in a fall. No, there could only ever be ruthless, brazen confidence. This poise and determination is something she has carried into all other aspects of her life, including her cons. It has made her daring enough to take on jobs no one else would ever even consider touching, and more often than not has helped her come out on top in even the tightest spots.

In her younger days, she was never met with a crazy plan she didn’t like. As the years have passed and she's gotten older and more fragile, however, she has mellowed out and become a fair bit more cautious and pragmatic. This isn't to say she's any more predictable than she was. She's still a wild card, just a wild card with a bit better sense of self-preservation. And a deeper sense of cynicism.

Despite her daring nature, Nika is a private person who more often than not obfuscates the truth surrounding herself. It’s not that she’s one to actively lie, she’s just vague on the details and doesn’t often willingly volunteer information about herself. Her true and complete history is known really only to herself. Whether Markova is even her real name is still up for debate even among her closest associates.

Background
As private as she is, Nika Xiù Markova’s full history before joining the crew is known only to but a few. But from what most can gather, it can be summarized into something like this:

Nika was born in New York City, New York, to parents who were both immigrants; her father was Russian and her mother was Chinese. Both were entertainers, and Nika was brought up into the lifestyle alongside them. As soon as she was able to, she began training to be a gymnast and dancer just like her mother. Her childhood was unconventional to say the least, traveling all across the world alongside her parents in some of the best known circus troupes. Nika herself officially became a performer in her teens, and would continue this career into her early adult life, experiencing and seeing all sorts of things that others would only dream of.

It's unclear exactly how and when it happened, but in her twenties she started getting involved in cons. Some would say she was recruited by someone else for her unique skillset, others would say it’s something she starting getting into all by herself, with a strong penchant for mischief and adventure. Either way, her unconventional lifestyle and lived experience would greatly aid her in pulling off heists and cons that only became more outrageous and daring with time. Through insane physical feats, a true showman’s charisma, and no short supply of ruthless confidence, Nika Xiù Markova had risen to the top of the criminal underworld and made herself quite the sought-after asset for others in her line of work.

[more to be continued with additional plotting…]

Headcanons
- After a lifetime of constantly contorting her body and doing rigorous physical activity, she deals with chronic pain now
- She relies on painkillers a bit more than she would like to admit
- She enjoys all kinds of music. She's as comfortable at the orchestra as she is at a metal concert
- Green is her favorite color. Especially emerald and jade greens
- Bad romance novels are a guilty pleasure of hers, the worse they are the better
- She was obsessed with martial arts movies as a kid. She still loves them today
- A bit of a heavyweight when it comes to alcohol
- She hasn't been in a serious relationship since her fiancé passed away 12 years ago
- WIP

Nika Xiù Markova | the flex

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AGE | 46

P.O.B. | new york city

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