Datasets:

aaiaa-1

/

DDD_Batch

like 0

Ember avait écouté attentivement pendant que la maîtresse parlait. Elle s'est levée de son siège par la suite, griffant son dossier près et enroulant les bords du papier par habitude, essayant de bien mémoriser l'heure du test afin qu'elle puisse faire confiance à sa propre mémoire plus tard. Elle était indéniablement nerveuse. Elle n'était pas très bonne dans les grandes foules, et elle n'avait pas vu autant de gens en un seul endroit depuis longtemps. Sa mère l'avait prévenue d'aller à l'Angel Academy, mais Ember ne faisait que se rendre compte à quel point elle était hors de sa profondeur. Elle était si anxieux qu'elle n'avait même pas encore regardé son dossier. Elle a navigué hors de la salle bondée, ayant besoin d'espace pour respirer avant de commencer la quête de sa première classe. Elle a glissé dans les toilettes de la fille et a pris quelques respirations profondes, reconnaissant d'avoir un peu d'espace pour elle, avant de regarder son dossier. Elle a lu que sa colocataire s'appelait Leorin, un enfant de 25 ans qui était un rang en dessous d'Ember. Elle s'inquiétait un peu de trouver comment équilibrer une petite pièce entre eux, mais là encore, elle s'inquiétait de tout en ce moment. Réalistement, elle savait qu'il ne faudrait qu'une semaine pour s'adapter à la vie ici, mais ses insécurités chuchotaient tout ce qui pouvait mal tourner. Elle s'est donnée une autre minute pour la réunir, en examinant son emploi du temps de près, avant de quitter la salle de bain et de se diriger vers sa première classe, Nature Studies. Elle a pu trouver sa classe assez facile, car elle avait un bon sens de la direction, et a pris le siège sur le côté gauche de la rangée médiane de sièges. Elle pensait qu'elle pouvait entendre et voir tout ce que le professeur faisait sans attirer beaucoup d'attention sur elle-même. Elle espérait que l'œil errant passerait au-dessus d'elle jusqu'à ce qu'elle comprenne assez bien le climat social ici pour commencer à socialiser avec les autres. Elle n'était tout simplement pas prête à avoir une conversation, et elle avait très peur de se rendre folle d'elle-même. Elle s'installa dans son siège et tira le livre qu'elle lisait de son sac pour passer le temps jusqu'à ce que la classe commence, et pour se protéger de quiconque pourrait s'approcher d'elle.

Kindness is like snow - It beautifies everything it covers. { N A M E }: Ember Davids { G E N D E R }: Female { A G E }: 17 { A P P E A R A N C E }: As pictured above ( T R I A D ) : 2nd ( T Y P E within Triad ): Virtues ( M A J O R P O W E R ): Control over snow and frost, though she has a very hard time doing it in hot weather ( M I N O R P O W E R ): Can freeze small amounts of water * P E R S O N A L I T Y * : She’s very loyal and a great listener. She’s very honest and doesn’t like to dance around things. She’s a person you want to come to with your problems. She is the type of person to sacrifice her happiness for others. She can be pessimistic and lacks confidence. She’s good at improvising to fix situations. She tends to expect more out of others than they can give. She’s very well-mannered and tends to be a bit reserved. * F A M I L Y / R E L A T I O N S H I P S *: She grew up with a single mother. As the only child, her and her mother are very close. * R O O M M A T E *: (leave empty until assigned) * H I S T O R Y *: Ember’s father left her mom after finding out she was pregnant. Her mom taught her not to trust easily as a result. She tended to be a bit overprotective of Ember because she doesn’t want her to get hurt. L I K E S: (Faux) Fur Reading anything she can get her hands on Cold nights Thick blankets Fire places Hot tea D I S L I K E S: Summer nights Abusive relationships in books Cold food Lies Swimming She wants to perform miracles to make any many people happy as possible. She wants to be able to help turn people’s lives around.

"Ah, un autre étudiant en sciences humaines. C'est bien!" Elle a brossé sa main à travers ses longs cheveux soyeux alors qu'elle se tournait pour voir les haut-parleurs. Deux anges, un mâle, nommé Amos.. et une femelle, probablement celui qui avait demandé des directions. Ce serait sa chance de se faire deux nouvelles amies. Peut-être qu'ils pourraient être des copains d'étude appropriés! Si Amos n'était pas trop occupée avec cette nouvelle fille. Soyons honnêtes. Merueid n'est pas étranger au flirt. Ce n'est pas pour dire qu'elle est une sacrée cible pour les hommes, c'est juste... honnêtement, elle n'était pas sûre pourquoi les gens la voulaient. Ce n'était pas fréquent, cependant, pour dire que tous les hommes veulent qu'elle soit quelque chose dans le sens de Mary-sueish, mais encore une fois, elle savait flirter, et elle savait qu'Amos essayait de s'en sortir avec la jeune fille. Et honnêtement, elle ne s'en souciait pas trop, tant que son discours n'empêchait pas ses études ou quelque chose comme ça. - C'est quoi, ça? Pourtant, l'idée d'avoir un petit ami était très attirante... Merueid agite sa tête, se laissant revenir à la réalité- il va de la gravité de la situation. Éclairant sa gorge, elle décida de parler avec toute la fluidité et la politesse d'un homme aussi régal que le Directeur. « Je crois que nous devrions tous vérifier nos dossiers - ils devraient nous dire l'emplacement de nos classes afin que nous ne marchions pas sur l'absence d'esprit. » Elle a ouvert son dossier, et sûrement assez, il était là. Classe 1A. Elle a aussi vu le nom de sa colocataire.. Cassiel. Merueid a fait une note pour rencontrer ce Cassiel si donné la chance un jour. "Vous deux, suivez-moi. Je sais où sont les études humaines."

*Pride comes before a fall, and this is called justice. But what if such fate befalls the noble, the humble, those who are rightful rulers? I ask you, is it still justice then?* { N A M E }: Merueid { G E N D E R }: Female { A G E }: 129 { A P P E A R A N C E }: Aside from the picture's indication, Merueid is 6'1". She also doesn't carry a torch or wreath with her everywhere she goes, in case someone thought that. Though it isn't visible here, Merueid is blind in her left eye, yet it does not alter her physical appearance. ( T R I A D ) : Third ( T Y P E within Triad ): Principalities ( M A J O R P O W E R ): Creation and manipulation of light to conjure things such as shields, wards and illumination. ( M I N O R P O W E R ): n/a * P E R S O N A L I T Y * : Merueid is strong-willed, determined and very protective. She can be assertive but also judgmental, though it does not hinder her or the power she seems to exert from her language and attitude on a day-to-day basis. She tries fervently not to let anything stop her, nor her pursuit of justice, nobility, fairness and equality within community, province, hierarchy and common group, be it something as miniscule as a stone wall or as major as partial blindness. * F A M I L Y / R E L A T I O N S H I P S *: Merueid was born solely from her mother with no male involvement. She has two brothers, one of which betrayed his family, and three sisters. Like her, all of Merueid's siblings are blind in their left eye. * R O O M M A T E *: Cassiel * H I S T O R Y *: Merueid, born as a Principality, grew among her siblings with a sense of humbleness and a love of others. However, a few decades along her growth, one of her brothers began to disobey, committing crimes and assault, rebelling against his role and the concept of angels entirely, seeking powers greater than that which he was to uphold, and ultimately abandoning his family. From this, Merueid took it upon herself to do what her ancestors supposedly did not, and now seeks to sign up to Angel Academy to further improve her powers and someday become a revered friend and protector of the world. L I K E S: Justice, kindness, equality, the company of other angels, protecting those who can't protect themselves, those who are courageous or peaceful, and animals D I S L I K E S: Her brother. He's a butt. Cowardice, obstacles, bullies, rebellion, disobedience Merueid seeks to uphold justice on people like her brother, to ensure peace to any and all pre-determined hierarchies, to encourage peace, respect, equality, and trust, and to become the best guardian to others that she can be, as well as to the world in full.

Toi d'abord. dit Flint alors qu'il s'inclinait sur le trône en regardant la masse du dragon entrer dans le portail qui semblait assez petit pour qu'un dragon se presse à travers. Finalement, il allait le suivre à travers le portail et être accueilli avec une brise chaude. Bien que le discours du dragon soit quelque peu décalé, il était déjà trop tard et il était dans le royaume de ce dragon particulier qui faisait des pensées de départ lointain. Il regarda autour de lui en prenant dans cette parcelle de nature sauvage englobant une forêt, un petit plan d'eau et de nombreuses plantes avec des fleurs bruissant doucement dans la brise artificielle. C'était l'heure perpétuelle du printemps qui était appropriée compte tenu du domaine revendiqué du dragon.Assis sur une souche avec beaucoup de champignons poussant à ses côtés, il a dit au dragon, "Le contrat a été fait. Qu'est-ce que tu veux que je fasse?"

Name:Flint Ironstag Age: 24 Dragon you're the Hero of: Ishel-Yenkia Personality: He aims to be the three c’s: cool, calm, and collected although this might not be the case as the spring time of youth courses through his veins with all its warm vigor. He is a man of convictions who knows what he wants and as such his convictions rarely falter and keep him guided to his goals and their paths. History: He was born in the faroff lands of Wisconsinia to his father a sea man and his mother a weaver of byssus in the city of Marmite. His education consisted of learning to read/write, some basic arithmetic and martial instruction. Although he was intended to go down a more scholarly route, Flint instead left to do his own thing partially taking his father’s job as a mariner using it to travel around before departing to Horchata, land of the milky cascades. Likes: Martial Arts, Plantains, Booze Dislikes: Frilly clothes, spineless wimps Powers: Plant manipulation: Affects plant properties as well making them grow rapidly and whatnot. Omniarma: Less of a power and more of an enchanted artifact. It takes the form of a jade bangle or stick/handle that can change forms into various weapons. Also can summoned into his grasp at will.

La ville de Katrina était une ville commerciale croissante juste au large des côtes de la République du Grand Eagle, une jeune nation fraîche qui avait acquis l'indépendance en tant que nation souveraine il n'y a pas encore un siècle. Katrina avait autrefois appartenu à une autre nation comme l'une de leurs colonies, mais elle était rapidement entrée entre les mains de la république. Cette ville était celle que Marin choisit comme sa maison d'adoption, bien que seulement quelques jets de pierre de sa maison natale: une plantation dans les zones plus rurales. Marin avait d'abord travaillé parmi ses esclaves, cependant, avait depuis longtemps vendu la ferme ainsi que libéré ses propres esclaves dans le processus afin de financer sa propre carrière d'aventure. Cela faisait un certain temps depuis, et bien que la vie en ville fût beaucoup plus dure que Marin ne l'avait imaginé au départ, il avait néanmoins gagné sa vie. Cela faisait longtemps que Marin avait rencontré le dragon Tekus, qui a accordé à Marin ses gains musculaires considérables. Depuis, il s'efforçait d'encourager les citadins à se mêler d'une manière plus subtile qu'il ne l'imaginait ses prédécesseurs. Marin a fait sa vie comme un "performeur", qui avait "entré" beaucoup de jeunes femmes dans les nuits solitaires de la ville.

Name: Marin-Adam les Gaines Age: 20 Dragon: Love Personality: Marin appears to most as jovial and flamboyant. He is incredibly sociable and can talk to whomever he wants with ease. A convincing speaker, Marin prides himself on his ability to deliver rousing speeches and come up with quick, witty, on-the-fly one-liners. Marin also prides himself on his body, which he maintains day in and day out through sheer heart, diet, and exercise. Marin preaches a lifestyle to take advantage of youth and enjoy the little things. Marin preaches the potential of the human body and how wasteful it is not to use said potential; one of the most important parts of his philosophy being that: everybody's going to make it. Still, there is part of Marin which is a bit self-centered and show-boating. History: Marin's parents migrated from a land ruled by a harsh king who made his reign by slaughtering and oppressing his people as well as many others. As a child, Marin was actually rather weak and scrawny. He preferred staying inside, and for the most part, let his body go to waste. Marin had an older brother, however. This brother was apprentice to a local farmer, and did a bulk of the heavy work. As a result, Marin's brother became quite strong. It was safe to say that Marin was jealous; this did not motivate him enough, however. It was the ripe age of 19 when Marin began his quest for fame and fortune. He left his home penniless and aimless, lead only by his wanderlust. At the ripe age of 19, Marin nearly starved to death. It was at this near-death experience, however, that his dragon found him. The dragon of love saw a boy who was very capable of reproduction but still had not. Taking pity on the young virgin, the love dragon nursed the boy back to health, and gave Marin a gift which changed his life: starting strength. Using the strength of the dragon, Marin quickly rose back to his feet. With his new-found power, Marin forged a name for himself with heavy hand and draconic strength. Marin's new musculature made him incredibly popular with the wenches of the realm. However, Marin's experiences had taught him not only humility, but the importance of sharing. In addition, Marin's new philosophy preached that he should in fact disregard women in pursuit of other recreational activities, such as dance. In doing so, however, he had only made women's desire for him stronger. Powers: Dragon Strength: Marin was granted the ability to quickly gain strength through increased strenuous activity. His muscles react quickly to stimulus, generating a response by attempting to exert as much force as what was put on. In the process, the muscles tear as a magic substance coats the muscles. However, after a much needed rest, Marin's muscles recover and become stronger than ever. When exercising his legs, Marin is capable of unleashing his body's inner potential. Therefore, Marin never excuses himself from a day where he works his leg muscles. This power is only active, however, as long as Marin is capable of eating three meals a day and does not lose more than 10 ml of fluid substance from his body. Should either of the two conditions be met, Marin will slowly but gradually return to his scrawny state before he met the dragon until he gets another meal in. Arousal Sense: Marin can sense base emotions of creatures in his area, allowing him to guage their reactions to certain stimuli, or just to study when bored. Picture :

Vladimir s'arrêtait à voir ceux qui l'entouraient comme le grand dragon parlait. Il s'est enfermé la mâchoire sous son masque dans une sombre détermination qui se prépare à sceller son destin sur le trône. Le dragon lui faisait face et décrivait le grand Dragon de la Mort, il regardait de nouveau à travers les verres de verre dans son masque. être si proche d'un vrai dragon remplissait son esprit de peur. Il savait que le dragon ne le tuerait pas sans cause, probablement, mais le cœur primaire de son esprit criait pour qu'il coure et se cache. Vladimir s'est tenu calme par la simple force de la volonté, et la mémoire de la mention du Dragon de l'Immortalité s'il devait réussir. le confort de la sécurité de ce sommeil éternel. Vladimir tourne et trouve le Trône de la Mort, construit à partir d'os blanchis et ce qui semblait être un petit crâne de dragon construit au-dessus de la tête où il serait visible au-dessus de celui qui est assis là. il s'approche avant de s'asseoir touche le crâne et sent l'étincelle, la sensation serait impossible à décrire en tous mots Vladimir savait. Mon destin a été scellé, je suis devenu la Mort. Shepard des morts.» il considère un moment et prend place. Comme lui, le portail s'ouvre devant lui.

Name: Apothecary Vladimir Age: 45 Dragon your the Hero of: Cerpetin Personality: Fearful of death, he combats his terror of his own mortality by understanding it. He works very hard to know all he can about the human body and its function, this desire has given him a cold calculation when it comes to his work. over many years he has become numb to witnessing death and the dead, but he still can not face his own mortality and desires to live as long as possible. History: when he was young, his parents and siblings where taken by a plague that had ravaged his homeland. Vladimir was spared but the loss crushed the innocence from him. He was taken to be the apprentice under an Apothecary who trained him in herbs, minerals and crystals. He became well versed in herbal remedies and (non-magical) potions. As he became old enough to truly understand why he was learning such things and what had happened to his family the grim fascination with death was sparked within him. It was not an evil or cruel motivation, he just wanted to know, to understand. as he learned the fear of his own death grew within him. he was afflicted with a crushing despair. For if he, and everyone else dies, what does it matter? in a thousand years what will my actions mean? the despair was the tainted soil in which grew a purity of desire, he worked furiously in two ways. the first was the study of Alchemical and Medical sciences. This study was an attempt to prolong life and keep the body as healthy and strong as possible and to heal the damage cause by injury or disease. this study directly fed into his other labor, he donated himself wholly to aiding the population wherever he went. curing he sick whenever possible or healing those wounded by accident or violence. eventually this lead him into being recruited by the armies of the Atreites during the war with the Harkonan. however he was disliked when the army found out that he was healing all of those wounded in the battles, Atreites and Harkonan. Likes: Charity, Healing, Growth (plants, people, societal) Dislikes: Carelessness, Stupidity, cruelty (the desire to be cruel and hurt others needlessly) Powers: Corruption: This power Grants Vladimir the ability to spread horrific diseases (such as Necrosis, Bubonic Plague) by touch if he desires to. Walk to the Underworld: This power allows Vladimir to briefly open a rift into the realm of death. (best used for escape or quick return to his Dragon) Picture:

Glissant du dos du dragon, il a fait son chemin dans la structure. Il n'a pas tenu compte des détails de l'intérieur au lieu de laisser son intuition le guider dans cette cuisine. Il était curieux de savoir pourquoi une cuisine comme un lieu de rencontre pour le dragon pour livrer l'exposition et pas aucun autre moment d'avant. Mais peut-être qu'il se révélerait quand il entra dans la cuisine. Il pouvait sentir un tirant d'eau chaud sans aucun doute des divers feux de foyer qui brûlaient alors qu'il tirait la porte. "Je suis arrivé." Il l'a dit calmement.

Name:Flint Ironstag Age: 24 Dragon you're the Hero of: Ishel-Yenkia Personality: He aims to be the three c’s: cool, calm, and collected although this might not be the case as the spring time of youth courses through his veins with all its warm vigor. He is a man of convictions who knows what he wants and as such his convictions rarely falter and keep him guided to his goals and their paths. History: He was born in the faroff lands of Wisconsinia to his father a sea man and his mother a weaver of byssus in the city of Marmite. His education consisted of learning to read/write, some basic arithmetic and martial instruction. Although he was intended to go down a more scholarly route, Flint instead left to do his own thing partially taking his father’s job as a mariner using it to travel around before departing to Horchata, land of the milky cascades. Likes: Martial Arts, Plantains, Booze Dislikes: Frilly clothes, spineless wimps Powers: Plant manipulation: Affects plant properties as well making them grow rapidly and whatnot. Omniarma: Less of a power and more of an enchanted artifact. It takes the form of a jade bangle or stick/handle that can change forms into various weapons. Also can summoned into his grasp at will.

Glinda Worowitz réajusta brièvement sa ceinture, et regarda Ishel-Yenkia avec consternation. Ce dragon avait-il vraiment tenté d'insulter les gens dont lui et ses amis avaient désespérément besoin? Pourquoi était-il si désireux de décrire ce que ces dragons ont fait, sans expliquer beaucoup de choses sur leurs maisons ou comment les trouver? Pourquoi ce type pensait - il que les gens ne savaient absolument rien de la vie et de la façon dont les choses fonctionnaient? Glinda avait besoin d'une cigarette et d'un siège, et elle ne sortait pas non plus. Sans peu d'ennuis, Glinda a choisi un portail au hasard. Par coïncidence, c'était le portail du royaume de Grunik. Avec un son qui n'est pas différent d'un bol de pudding étant violemment perturbé, Glinda a disparu à travers le portail. La vue qui a accueilli Glinda a été étonnamment civilisée. Une rue pavée de la ville s'est bercée à haute voix devant Glinda, ignorante et débarrassante de son fantastique entrée. Doublure les rues était une cavalcade de vitrines et d'étals, chacun enduré par des gentlemen à la peau juste mais griffe. Le nom de cette ville a échappé à Glinda, mais à en juger par les accents avec lesquels les propriétaires de magasins parlaient, c'était certainement quelque part en dehors de son continent d'origine. Au bout d'une rue se trouvait un bâtiment phénoménal. C'était tout à fait à la différence des hovels raisonnables et des maisons de ville le reste de la ville était peuplé; c'était pratiquement une maison de maître, dominant l'horizon comme une infatigable redoutée. L'architecture laissait beaucoup à désirer, la peinture dorée et les formes géométriques solides donnaient l'impression générale qu'il s'agissait plus d'un dessin d'enfant que d'un domaine millionnaire. Aussi inhabituel était le fait que, malgré la présence d'une belle clôture (encore aussi enfantine), la porte du manoir était totalement inexistante. Les clients et les piétons se promènent à travers la pelouse et à travers les portes ouvertes et accueillantes du manoir. Au sommet de l'arche principale du manoir se trouvait un panneau orné d'une représentation humoristique stylisée d'une wyverne brun rougeâtre. Sur le panneau se trouvait, en grandes lettres amicales, « L'ALÉHOUSE DE GRUNIK ET L'INN ». Avec peu d'autre pour continuer, Glinda passa par le seuil de l'alehouse, et espérait tranquillement que personne ne penserait qu'une Anglaise serait seule dans un tel endroit.

Name: Glinda Worowitz Age: 35 Patron Dragon: Grunik, Gold Dragon Personality: Glinda Worowitz is as haughty as haughty can be, but hides a deeply charitable and mercantile heart deep within her. Glinda places a very serious focus on properly rationing her resources. Glinda is not wont to do anything for no good reason, or at least not for proper payment. History: Considering how both her father and mother were bankers, it's a wonder Glinda isn't wholly focused on finances all the time. Thanks to her parents' encouragement and wealth, Glinda managed to find an excellent college, which she graduated from with a degree in business management and art design. Likes: Haggling, good causes, art, Nickelback Dislikes: Appeals to force, injustice, poor taste, bad deals, salad greens Powers: Fair Deal: Glinda is also capable of making magical contracts with anyone she pleases. The effects of the contract are immediate, but must be agreed upon by both parties. In a pinch, Glinda can force a contract on someone without their consent, but must put a fairly obvious loophole in its contents that will, if used, immediately annul the contract in its entirety. The effects of the contract, much like Glinda's enchantment, vary wildly. When broken, the terms and conditions of the contract immediately lose their effects, except in the case of effects that are explicitly only caused when the contract is broken. In this way, Glinda can "curse" people, while at the same time "blessing" them. Mercantilize: Glinda is capable of expending an amount of valuable resources to enchant any item she can hold with a variety of effects. Generally, the more esoteric and widespread the effect, the more money needed to enchant it. The enchantment can be anything Glinda thinks of, but she prefers not to intrude on others' domains with her enchantments. Interestingly enough, Mercantilize is actually an applied usage of Fair Deal. Enchanted objects are, as a matter of fact, given some small amount of intelligence and a complex contract that grants them magical powers. It is entirely possible to break this contract and, thus, the enchantment. Objects given more powerful enchantments gain more intelligence.

Vladimir est entré en présence d'un dragon puissant, il a regardé à travers les verres regardant la mort elle-même. Le dragon se déplaça et descendit la tête pour l'inspecter. Vladimir a tenu son sol bien que son cœur courait. Quand le grand œil des Dragons était à niveau avec lui, il disait: "Je suis Ying le dragon de la mort qui pourriez-vous être mortel?" Il a pris le dragon noir alors qu'il le regardait avec un coup aigu sur son visage. La voix sonnait comme si elle faisait simplement écho à l'âme de Vladimir. comme si ce n'était pas son dans ses oreilles mais a atteint plus profondément et que le dragon parlait à son âme, pas à son corps. Il était convaincu que le dragon pouvait parler à un sourd. Vladimir a pensé avec soin pour un bref moment, 'Ce que je fais ensuite décide de mon avenir'. Vladimir décide que le dragon mérite le plus profond respect. Il tombe lentement à genoux comme si dans l'adoration du dragon, il a ouvert sa bouche une fraction et réalisé qu'il doit dire quelque chose. Il se présente comme il l'avait toujours fait, des paysans aux généraux aux rois et la mort ne serait pas différente. Il parle, ne sait pas si le dragon pouvait entendre son bien ainsi il parle avec une force ferme à sa voix. "Je suis Apothecary Vladimir, mais le plus simplement m'appeler Apothecary" alors qu'il parlait, il a réalisé qu'il y avait encore une certaine peur dans la voix, et le ton trembla brièvement.

Name: Apothecary Vladimir Age: 45 Dragon your the Hero of: Cerpetin Personality: Fearful of death, he combats his terror of his own mortality by understanding it. He works very hard to know all he can about the human body and its function, this desire has given him a cold calculation when it comes to his work. over many years he has become numb to witnessing death and the dead, but he still can not face his own mortality and desires to live as long as possible. History: when he was young, his parents and siblings where taken by a plague that had ravaged his homeland. Vladimir was spared but the loss crushed the innocence from him. He was taken to be the apprentice under an Apothecary who trained him in herbs, minerals and crystals. He became well versed in herbal remedies and (non-magical) potions. As he became old enough to truly understand why he was learning such things and what had happened to his family the grim fascination with death was sparked within him. It was not an evil or cruel motivation, he just wanted to know, to understand. as he learned the fear of his own death grew within him. he was afflicted with a crushing despair. For if he, and everyone else dies, what does it matter? in a thousand years what will my actions mean? the despair was the tainted soil in which grew a purity of desire, he worked furiously in two ways. the first was the study of Alchemical and Medical sciences. This study was an attempt to prolong life and keep the body as healthy and strong as possible and to heal the damage cause by injury or disease. this study directly fed into his other labor, he donated himself wholly to aiding the population wherever he went. curing he sick whenever possible or healing those wounded by accident or violence. eventually this lead him into being recruited by the armies of the Atreites during the war with the Harkonan. however he was disliked when the army found out that he was healing all of those wounded in the battles, Atreites and Harkonan. Likes: Charity, Healing, Growth (plants, people, societal) Dislikes: Carelessness, Stupidity, cruelty (the desire to be cruel and hurt others needlessly) Powers: Corruption: This power Grants Vladimir the ability to spread horrific diseases (such as Necrosis, Bubonic Plague) by touch if he desires to. Walk to the Underworld: This power allows Vladimir to briefly open a rift into the realm of death. (best used for escape or quick return to his Dragon) Picture:

Dans la confusion, Glinda a réussi à supplanter subrepticement un petit paquet de tobacoo et de papier roulant, et considéré le petit dragon pathétiquement avec mépris. Avec peu d'autre chose à faire, elle a choisi de suivre le dragon, et s'est silencieusement demandé si tous les dragons étaient si terribles à la socialisation de base. Avec un peu de chance et une bonne formulation, elle pourrait probablement les faire chanter à tout ce qu'elle voulait. Glinda, frustré et blister, arriva au château de Grunik. Tandis que le dragon pygmée lui parlait de courtoisie commune et de la façon dont son chef est méchant, Glinda a roulé une cigarette avec insouciance. -- Ne vous inquiétez pas, dit Glinda, souriant sérieusement, je sais me traiter en présence de, ah... "la royauté." Elle a frappé une allumette sur les écailles du dragon, et a allumé sa cigarette. Tandis que le dragon errait vers des parties inconnues, Glinda se tenait dans la salle et fumait paisiblement. Trente minutes plus tard, elle a fini avec le bout de chien fumant qui était autrefois une cigarette laminée à l'expert. Elle a broyé de façon nonchalante le bout de chien encore éblouissant avec ses doigts, et l'a pris dans son sac à main pour être ensuite éliminée. Glinda s'est enfilée sa robe, a brossé ses cheveux et s'est jetée dans la salle du trône de Grunik. Quelle serait la meilleure façon de s'adresser à un dragon? Glinda a pensé, et a rapidement décidé que rester calme et vénéré serait mieux.

Name: Glinda Worowitz Age: 35 Patron Dragon: Grunik, Gold Dragon Personality: Glinda Worowitz is as haughty as haughty can be, but hides a deeply charitable and mercantile heart deep within her. Glinda places a very serious focus on properly rationing her resources. Glinda is not wont to do anything for no good reason, or at least not for proper payment. History: Considering how both her father and mother were bankers, it's a wonder Glinda isn't wholly focused on finances all the time. Thanks to her parents' encouragement and wealth, Glinda managed to find an excellent college, which she graduated from with a degree in business management and art design. Likes: Haggling, good causes, art, Nickelback Dislikes: Appeals to force, injustice, poor taste, bad deals, salad greens Powers: Fair Deal: Glinda is also capable of making magical contracts with anyone she pleases. The effects of the contract are immediate, but must be agreed upon by both parties. In a pinch, Glinda can force a contract on someone without their consent, but must put a fairly obvious loophole in its contents that will, if used, immediately annul the contract in its entirety. The effects of the contract, much like Glinda's enchantment, vary wildly. When broken, the terms and conditions of the contract immediately lose their effects, except in the case of effects that are explicitly only caused when the contract is broken. In this way, Glinda can "curse" people, while at the same time "blessing" them. Mercantilize: Glinda is capable of expending an amount of valuable resources to enchant any item she can hold with a variety of effects. Generally, the more esoteric and widespread the effect, the more money needed to enchant it. The enchantment can be anything Glinda thinks of, but she prefers not to intrude on others' domains with her enchantments. Interestingly enough, Mercantilize is actually an applied usage of Fair Deal. Enchanted objects are, as a matter of fact, given some small amount of intelligence and a complex contract that grants them magical powers. It is entirely possible to break this contract and, thus, the enchantment. Objects given more powerful enchantments gain more intelligence.

Très bien! Marin répondit avec brio, car il frappe une pose à personne en particulier. L'homme ne semblait pas avoir d'autre choix que de suivre son dragon- il n'y avait pas de sorties claires de toute façon, bien que Marin ait raisonné qu'il y aurait beaucoup à voir dans le domaine de l'amour. "Qu'est-ce qu'on fait d'entrainement? Etiquette? Je vais vous faire savoir que je suis un gentleman suprême. Il faut faire des efforts pour me ressembler. Non pas que vous sachiez bien sûr, être tous... écailleux et tel." Marin a grondé. Alors qu'il suivait le dragon, Marin croisa les bras, sa promenade devenant beaucoup plus décontractée.

Name: Marin-Adam les Gaines Age: 20 Dragon: Love Personality: Marin appears to most as jovial and flamboyant. He is incredibly sociable and can talk to whomever he wants with ease. A convincing speaker, Marin prides himself on his ability to deliver rousing speeches and come up with quick, witty, on-the-fly one-liners. Marin also prides himself on his body, which he maintains day in and day out through sheer heart, diet, and exercise. Marin preaches a lifestyle to take advantage of youth and enjoy the little things. Marin preaches the potential of the human body and how wasteful it is not to use said potential; one of the most important parts of his philosophy being that: everybody's going to make it. Still, there is part of Marin which is a bit self-centered and show-boating. History: Marin's parents migrated from a land ruled by a harsh king who made his reign by slaughtering and oppressing his people as well as many others. As a child, Marin was actually rather weak and scrawny. He preferred staying inside, and for the most part, let his body go to waste. Marin had an older brother, however. This brother was apprentice to a local farmer, and did a bulk of the heavy work. As a result, Marin's brother became quite strong. It was safe to say that Marin was jealous; this did not motivate him enough, however. It was the ripe age of 19 when Marin began his quest for fame and fortune. He left his home penniless and aimless, lead only by his wanderlust. At the ripe age of 19, Marin nearly starved to death. It was at this near-death experience, however, that his dragon found him. The dragon of love saw a boy who was very capable of reproduction but still had not. Taking pity on the young virgin, the love dragon nursed the boy back to health, and gave Marin a gift which changed his life: starting strength. Using the strength of the dragon, Marin quickly rose back to his feet. With his new-found power, Marin forged a name for himself with heavy hand and draconic strength. Marin's new musculature made him incredibly popular with the wenches of the realm. However, Marin's experiences had taught him not only humility, but the importance of sharing. In addition, Marin's new philosophy preached that he should in fact disregard women in pursuit of other recreational activities, such as dance. In doing so, however, he had only made women's desire for him stronger. Powers: Dragon Strength: Marin was granted the ability to quickly gain strength through increased strenuous activity. His muscles react quickly to stimulus, generating a response by attempting to exert as much force as what was put on. In the process, the muscles tear as a magic substance coats the muscles. However, after a much needed rest, Marin's muscles recover and become stronger than ever. When exercising his legs, Marin is capable of unleashing his body's inner potential. Therefore, Marin never excuses himself from a day where he works his leg muscles. This power is only active, however, as long as Marin is capable of eating three meals a day and does not lose more than 10 ml of fluid substance from his body. Should either of the two conditions be met, Marin will slowly but gradually return to his scrawny state before he met the dragon until he gets another meal in. Arousal Sense: Marin can sense base emotions of creatures in his area, allowing him to guage their reactions to certain stimuli, or just to study when bored. Picture :

Tous les héros avaient entendu une chanson jouant dans la forêt chacun de leurs maisons et où ils étaient une forêt était toujours autour du monde dans lequel ils vivaient. Alors ils l'ont entendu et ils ont suivi, la forêt était massive et a pris une grande partie de la terre en tant que petits villages ici et là ainsi que de petites entreprises qui entrent en jeu. Puis ils allaient entrer dans une clairière massive qui était le centre de la forêt massive. C'est là qu'on dit que le dernier dragon a été tué. Mais se tenant là au milieu était un dragon un dragon de couleur brillante qui tournait sur eux, les regardant vers le bas, il parlait. "s'accorde avec le jeune petit yelp mortel de la Terre. Je suis le Seigneur Dragon Ishel-Yenkia. Je viens à vous avec un petit plaidoyer pour que vous vous ameniez au monde du dragon, à nos trônes et soyez à notre héros. Autant que nous sommes les grands serpants de Proche et de Loir nos pouvoirs sont drainés de créer toutes les choses avec lesquelles vous avez à vivre dans la vie quotidienne. Quand vous arriverez aux trônes des dragons, vous sentirez une certaine traction vers l'un des nombreux trônes que vous y verrez. Vous deviendrez ce héros de Dragon aussi bien que le légat. Mais soyez averti une fois que vous avez touché ce trône que vous êtes coincé là et vous ne pouvez pas laisser cet héritage de dragon jusqu'à ce que vous êtes mort ou de devenir immortel par les actes de votre âme et de votre amour. Je vous ouvrirai les portes, mais soyez avertis une fois que vous accepterez que vous ne pouvez jamais partir." Le serpent du vieux Sage descendit sa grande tête et regarda devant les humains qui se tenaient devant lui. Il soufflait sur chacun d'eux leur donnant la vue pour trouver les trônes quand ils devraient entrer dans la salle du trône. Il descendit une grande aile et, alors que les humains montaient, il monta haut dans l'air, loin de la vie de l'homme, loin de tous, avant la cupidité de l'humanité. Devant eux se tenait maintenant une montagne massive avec une place ouverte et sept trônes là tous, sans racines et intacts. Le sage dragon s'est posé et a permis aux humains de s'en aller. Choisissez sur ce que votre cœur ne dit pas vos sentiments. Une fois que vous aurez choisi, je vous expliquerai vos dieux. Le serpent parlait et regardait les humains trouver leur nom de trône de dragon qui se tenait devant eux. Le sage serpent sourit et regarda, puis parla à chacun des humains alors qu'ils choisissaient les trônes qu'ils avaient touchés. Le trône de glace appartient à Contestine le Dragon de la Glace sans jamais fondre, en charge de tous les climats froids et les animaux qui prospèrent en eux sur terre et dans la mer. Celui qui sera son héros sortira et trouvera le royaume du dragon des glaces. Soyez avertis que ses yeux n'ont pas de chaleur en eux et son tounge est plus aiguisé alors que toutes les paroles que vous pouvez connaître avant. Le trône du Feu appartient à un dragon nommé Ying il est le lézard de flamme méchant vous serez le héros de. Son tempérament est plutôt en flammes et être averti à moins que vous aimez le froid, vous aurez un temps difficile dans la chaleur brûlante de sa maison. Le trône de la cupidité et des péchés, Le dragon que vous serez le héros de Grunik, le dragon de la cupidité et des péchés de l'homme. Mais soyez avertis comme son héros, vous essayerez de défaire tout ce qu'il a fait à l'homme. Mais être prudent en touchant son or vous donnera une leçon douloureuse en touchant ses affaires. Le trône de la Terre, Mon trône, le trône de la vie, en tant que Mon héros, vous sortirez et vous essayerez de comprendre pourquoi il y a la vie et pourquoi il y a la mort. Vous ferez l'impossible pour moi, vous sauverez la vie de ceux qui ont beaucoup souffert de la colère. Le trône de l'amour le dragon que vous serez le héros de est Tekus, le dragon de l'amour et de faire les couples parfaits. Soyez prudent, vous pouvez aider les autres à tomber amoureux, mais assurez-vous que sa vérité entre les deux personnes ou vous souffrirez grandement de sa colère. Le trône de la Mort, maintenant que c'est un dragon que vous craignez et que vous craignez avant, sa maison n'est ni dans les mondes au-dessous de nous. Il a le nom de Cerpetin, le dragon de la mort et de la chair pourrie ainsi que la vieillesse. Sa colère est grande et sa colère est quelque chose que vous ne voudrez jamais affronter. Vous serez son héros en sortant et en ramenant les morts du monde et en veillant à ce que tous les esprits qui errent dans le monde soient ramenés à son royaume. Ce n'est pas un dragon maléfique. Le trône de la Nuit, le Dragon qui contrôle la nuit est Nefita, la dragonne de la nuit, elle est rusée et rusée et difficile à trouver toujours quand les ténèbres prennent la terre. Comme son héros de dragon, vous laverez la peur des enfants et le protecteur des créatures de la nuit et seulement la nuit. Je vous dis ceci maintenant allez rencontrer vos dragons, être leurs héros et oh aussi... ne pas énerver vos dragons et parce qu'ils vont vous tuer et nous n'avons aucun problème à trouver de nouveaux héros Le sage serpent a dit sagement comme portails ouverts à chaque maison des dragons, maintenant c'était les humains se tourner pour comprendre pourquoi le monde a fonctionné d'une telle manière et pourquoi il l'a fait.

Name: Contestine Age: Over 2 million years old Domain : The Ice Realm Powers - Freezing the ground on which people stand - able to manipulate a fire of freezing temperatures, which would be capable of freezing the target with ice burns that are more severe than normal burns. - Create ice storms. - utilize ice manipulation with their physical combat, allowing them to both create tools and weapons for attack and manipulate the environment for their advantage - becomes a physical manifestation or personification of the element of ice - can become invisible when in/on/touching snow. Personality : A dragon who's heart has no love in it before. after his love died from human invaders once he became a very dark and dangerous dragon that rule over. The dangerous dragon, unfortunately, do not have compacity, to understand the human heart and relate to them as they had killed his beloved. But as much he hates humans he spares all young warriors and children that stumble across him. He has shown a small spark of emotion in him with servants and his princable's but he has a great kind heart under all of the dragons and their loss of loved ones or even younger servants he shows a very kind heart to at time. But to his hero he shows a cold stare and no heart but under it all lies a kind heart that will take time to erase and thaw out. History : When he was created by the Lord of Life he was created with the powers of ice and made a servant at first. Unlike other Lords he had to work for his Lordship while others where born in it. He worked so very hard to create his kingdom and his servants and created his princables and all they hold in the kingdom. After he worked so long he holds the kingdom with upmost respect and honor in his eyes and if anyone should fail he will be dissapointed. Picture : Stands 44 feet tall, wingspan of 130 feet big and his all together leanth to his tip of his tail is 140 feet long. Theme Song

Alice a laissé sortir un long bâillement alors qu'elle sortait paresseusement du lit. Elle ne s'est pas vraiment aperçue de ce qu'elle a fait comme elle s'est habillée et comme ça. Alors qu'elle continuait son rituel quotidien, elle allait se laver les dents et se laver le visage et les mains. C'était une tâche simple comme celle-là si l'on devait prêter attention comme si elle n'avait pas pensé comme une machine programmée faisant sa tâche dans la mode de travail d'horlogerie. C'était vraiment un mouvement programmé pour Alice à ce moment-là, il y avait peu de pensée remplacée par une mémoire musculaire claire car ses pensées étaient encore lentes et peu éveillées. Alice était beaucoup de choses mais elle n'a jamais été pleinement réveillée le matin, il lui a fallu un certain temps pendant que son cerveau traitait pratiquement qu'il était temps de commencer la journée. Alice clignait lentement dans la lumière lumineuse ses yeux s'habituent à l'éclairage lumineux projeté par les ampoules fluorescentes alors qu'ils donnaient leur lumière artificielle dans tout le bâtiment. Avec des pas lents, Alice baissa vers le sanctuaire ses vêtements de sommeil de couleur violette et ses chaussons blancs flous qui traînent le long du sol. Son esprit était nary avec une pensée au-delà de sa tasse habituelle de café et de petit déjeuner. Avant cela, si vous vouliez une réponse ou une conversation, vous auriez dû sortir d'elle et attendre qu'elle ait au moins son café. Alors qu'elle continuait à se moquer de la kitchenette, elle s'arrêta au sanctuaire pour entendre des voix bizarres normalement camaël était calme, d'où le son des voix était différent. Avec la curiosité qui déchirait son cerveau, elle a lentement fait de sa façon le sanctuaire était une affaire simple rien de grand mais il a servi son but. Sans penser qu'elle a jeté un coup d'œil sur sa tête dans ses cheveux pourpres déshonorés en train de repérer les deux dans la pièce. Camael était ici comme prévu, mais une autre personne était Akemi aussi. "Bonjour, vous deux." Alice a dit en essayant de retenir un bâillement. La situation dans laquelle elle se trouvait ne l'avait pas encore complètement frappée alors qu'elle marchait lentement dans son état d'être qui normalement l'immergerait sans fin ne cliquant pas pleinement avec son esprit encore fatigué. Ses yeux s'écroulant alors qu'elle se battait pour s'endormir en regardant les deux dans le sanctuaire, elle a essayé de comprendre ce qui n'allait pas, car le sentiment que quelque chose n'allait pas augmentait.

Name: Alice Gascoigne Age: 18 Former Race: Human Race: Angel (six wings) Card: Ace Notable Skills: Flight - A basic skill available to those who were reincarnated using the brave saint system Light projections - An angel's common ability often used to create light spears. Magic - Alice is highly proficient in magic. Holy Sacraments: Holy Shroud of Magdalene - The shroud of the holy maiden Mary Magdalene it grants protection against men wishing the owner harm and can bind them as long as they are not harmed in turn. As such those possessing a notably strong holy aura such as high ranking angels are able to bypass it. While bound any male is prevented from bringing upon self harm or injury. Equipment: Sacred Gear: N/A Magic: Sacred Arrows: A magic that creates a rain of arrows of light and magic upon the enemy it can be launched from above or in front of Alice. Tracking Stars: Stars that is able give the location of people by tracking their magical signature of the signature of it can be used to act as a beacon should it be attached to someone. Binding Stars: magic that takes the form of two stars that binds the enemy. Binding Ribbons: Similar in practice to her Binding stars though she is able to freely control the length and direction of the ribbons. Blades of light: Using swords of light it circles around Alice protecting her. She is freely able to launch them and or use them for close combat should the need arise. Starlight blast: Focused blasts of pure magical or holy energy. Requiem of Stars: A large devastating blast of magical energy its large size and destructive power makes it her strongest spell in her arsenal. Release of restraints: Due to her frail body a seal was placed upon her sealing her powers. Though by meeting certain conditions she can release increments of her true power allowing to her to let loose more power behind her attacks. The tattoo seals behind a large majority of her power that her body can safely handle. The more power released the seal changes to show less wings. As a result her magical power increase two fold each release. However her body can only handle it so long before it starts to do more harm than good. Personality: Alice is known to have a very bright and somewhat bubbly personality she is always seeing the good in humanity and what it can do as whole. Though she is not blind to how dark the world can be at times. She believes everyone no matter who has some potential of good in them and as such often seeks to a peaceful resolution before everything. History: Alice Gascoigne grew up in poor health a orphan who was taken in and raised by Father Gascoigne. It was through him and the church who took interest in the adopted daughter of one of their best exorcists they found out the problem. Her body was physically to weak to contain her immense magical power she carried. She was taken care of to best of his extent doing his best to keep her comfortable with how sickly she was. It wasn’t till a bit later her father managed to garner enough attention from the angels and at his request they sealed her power. From there she was trained to help the church in small doses as to not push her body. At age ten her father’s exploits and her own affliction garnered the attention of the heavenly body once more seeking to shelter her from devils who would wish to use her immense power for themselves. So at a young age she was turned into a angel to protect her from those that would seek to use her and in a attempt to help her since her health was starting to take a turn for the worse again. Camael answered the call turning the young girl ten years of age a second chance at life where she can live it more fully than if she was left alone. Her skill in magic and how she prefers to fight often led to her being known in supernatural circles as the “magical girl of heaven” In stark contrast of the devils Miracle Levia tan.

L'ange de la guerre Camaël Camael n'avait pas dormi, il n'avait jamais l'air de dormir de toute façon. C'était tôt - matin l'air était froid et donc il ne semblait pas attrayant pour lui d'aller juste dehors willy-nilly même s'il devait le faire. Aujourd'hui, c'était mardi son jour préféré de la semaine. C'est son jour. Le jour où il a forcé son pairage à s'entraîner à devenir meilleur afin de les aider à travailler plus efficacement en tant qu'unité. Il avait décidé qu'aujourd'hui serait simple un sur un match entre les membres de pair, d'abord d'être à l'étage pendant plus longtemps alors que 10 secondes était dehors. Une règle tout simplement juste à son égard, après tout être l'ange de la guerre, vous avez vu assez de batailles à la mort pour connaître son entraînement terrible pour celui qui perd dans les deux sens qu'il était en bas dans le bâtiment dans lequel il possédait. Le bâtiment de bureaux, situé à la périphérie de la ville était assez clair en apparence de l'extérieur. Il n'offrait pas de véritables signes révélateurs de ce qui s'est passé à l'intérieur. À l'intérieur cependant, il avait beaucoup d'espace en raison de Camael aimer s'effondrer des murs aléatoires lors de la rénovation. C'était une merveille que le bâtiment fût solide comme il était. Pourtant, il a grandement servi sa fonction. La zone du bas avait une grande salle comme la salle qui était autrefois capable de tenir des cabines de bureau pour que les gens au travail, maintenant c'était juste une pièce vide avec des tapis sur le sol. Parfait pour les esparring. Les zones de l'étage avaient été converties en zones de prière et de loisirs. L'étage le plus à l'étage, aussi appelé troisième étage, avait été converti dans une sorte de dortoir dans le cas où ses membres de pair n'avaient pas d'autres endroits pour rester. Il suffit de mettre Camael remplit le bâtiment de ce qui le rend heureux, guerriers, priant, et le plaisir général de la vie pendant qu'on le vit. Il a quand même dû effectuer une partie de sa routine matinale avant le jour des combats. Il s'est agenouillé devant un Alter dans une pièce de l'immeuble, sur le côté. C'était une simple pièce blanchie. La seule chose à noter était l'altération et la pièce avait une seule fenêtre assise juste derrière dit Alter, Il savait que le dieu de la Bible était mort mais chaque jour il rend hommage à son seigneur et à ses autres frères tombés dans les bras des innombrables guerres qu'il avait combattues. Il se demandait si quelqu'un se joindrait à lui dans sa prière du matin ou s'ils seraient peut-être plus enclins à commencer juste à traîner dans la salle principale. Il ne se souciait tout simplement pas de ce qu'ils faisaient tant qu'ils se souvenaient de celui qu'ils glorifiaient de chaque acte. Cependant, il resterait agenouillé là-bas pendant quelques minutes de plus, bien à au moins la moitié des 10 dernières minutes, ce qui serait probablement cinq minutes environ. De lui agenouillé là avec l'épée à la main faisant un trou assez visible dans le sol plus large, le même trou qu'il continue à mettre dit épée dedans. C'est avec ça qu'il a dit "Amen". se levant pour partir comme il se tenait dehors dans le hall principal. Attendant que son groupe se réunisse à partir de ce qui n'est pas une bataille. Ils ont dû se préparer pour la bataille de pair jeudi et Camael n'a pas été le genre à laisser partir une perte.

Name: Camael/Camiel: The Angel of Strength, Courage and War. Nickname: Camy Age: N/A, he doesn't like to say. Though to put it in perspective, he was around before God died in the world of DxD Race: Seraph - 12 Winged Angel. Card: King of Spades Notable Skill's: As the Angel of War, it is obvious that he would have refined and mastered numerous combative skills. He is extremely potent at CQC, using a mixture of techniques he has seen combined with his own millennial experience on the field of battle to deliver powerful ruthless strikes, while not leaving an opening in his defence. He is capable of taking any position on the battlefield though he does lean towards being a soldier on the front lines. Fighting with everything he has to secure victory. He is proficient at both flying upon his wings, capable of some rather spectacular aerial movements, while also carrying someone whom weighs the same as him while he is wearing full body armour. Safe to say his superhuman strength allows him to perform such actions, because of this experience of flight, he makes as much as a fearsome aerial combatant as he does one on the ground. Due to his experiences his of war and his duty as the angel of war, he is capable of providing battlefield support to those injured. His healing methods are not to completely heal the injury as that takes time but rather stabilise and patch them up so that they can continue fighting. So for instance if they had broken their leg. He would splint it, give them some fast acting pain killers, help them to their feet. Give them back their weapon and tell them to go on the defensive. That is not to say he isn't capable of helping someone recover fully but usually on a battlefield, he isn't really capable of applying that rest and recovery in the midst of a fight. Holy Sacraments: A bottle capable of blessing any water placed within it, Useful in case one is fighting someone of the demonic sort as splashing said water on a devil really hurts them (bottle pictured on his belt). One of the whips used to whip Christ during his travel to his death, The reason why this whip is revered as a holy object is the notion of purity that comes from one receiving the whip. To be whipped by such a whip is a purifying experience, though it is still Painful, He has a suit of armour blessed by the holy that he hasn't worn since the Crusades ended. The armour is contains blessings of additional protection to the wearer above that of normal armour not that he really needs it considering his prowess for war but when it becomes needed it shows that he has become truly serious. Equipment: A first aid kit contain medical supply's that he likes to have nearby. Usually doesn't carry it himself though and so might pawn it off to another saint. The standard contents of a millitary grade first aid kit + 3 shots of Universal Adrenaline (It can be injected into anything and adjusts itself to that person structure, mostly because certain species need a lot more to stabilise.) Magic: This is a magic unique to Camael, it allows him to draw forth the sword of the god. A sword that should only be drawn when no other option can be chosen, he must even offer the enemy a chance to flee before the sword can be drawn. Once drawn the sword emits an immense beacon of energy, similar to the type given off by Light Projection, but of a more intense degree, to the point where it can be described as a sword made of the sun. Because of the energy given off by the sword, it weakens demons and evil things in its mere presence but that is not the primary effect of the sword. The primary effect of the sword is how it scales depending on who wields it against who, to put it simply if a normal angel was to lift the sword not only would it's weight adjust to suit them, but its power would shift to become more manageable, usually a large decrease however thats not to say it loses much effectiveness if used against its intended targets of heretics and those who have abandoned the path of god. Against such people, whom have no chance of salvation, the sword Will slay them if it is swung within reach of them. Usually this allows even a weak angel to take on a higher level threat but in the hands of Camael it becomes a weapon capable of *devastating* any being that has fulfilled the definition of a heretic. Though he still rarely draws it, as the smart ones run away. It is said that an enemy killed by this sword does not go to heaven or hell, their soul is simply erased... Note: The sword is unable to be drawn inside of a church, due to a church being a sanctuary. Though if that church has say... been ransacked and destroyed by fallen angels. Its not longer a holy place and the sword can be drawn when it is needed. Secondly, the sword cannot pierce or harm, someone without the intent to sin and whom hasn't sinned. It is physically incapable of doing so, meaning it is unable to harm angels. Usually. All Angels have this ability, Camael is pretty noticeable for having a distinct mastery over it when it comes to the creation of constructs of war such as swords, Bows, bucklers and in some cases chain mail with Knuckledusters (for those real tight fits). What he prefers to make appears very old fashioned but one cannot argue with reliability in a battlefield scenario. His mastery comes from just how strong the constructs he creates are when compared to other angels of lesser rank, he can also produce them en mass due to his power as a seraph, creating a countless number of thrown holy projectile. In some cases the weapons are capable of cleaving through other weapons of (Fallen) Angel's and demons. Though that is unlikely to occur unless the (Fallen) Angel/ Demon is sufficiently weaker then him. It is obviously much more effective against demons but it still remains his go to method of combat. Due to his inherent powers as a Seraph and being example of an apex of the angel species. He has formulated this type of attack through countless battles, what it does is that it sacrifices the penetrating power of a weapon or projectile and instead causes it to detonate on contact with an object or after a certain time. This detonation produces a large amount of energy similar to an explosion but with no natural fragments within. It is purely a large concussive blast of heat and energy. An effective magic that has helped him out of some tough spots, the long range communication effectively functions as a way of broadcasting thought messages to people willing to receive them, It is very hard to tap into such a connection as a third party but not impossible. It has happened before. Personality: War what is it good for? Well, War is necessary in order to protect the world from falling to heretic downfall, at least Camael believes that to be the case, Camael is indifferent to the fighting of humans devils or angels. It was what he was born to do himself. He aligns himself to the cause that can be seen as good, the one that god would likely choose if given no other option. He is always up for a fight. Such is his nature. Fighting aisde, he can be seen as a rather unique individual, he follows the rules of the scripture, but bends them as much as he can manage, in order to best fulfil his role as one of the strongest warriors in all of heaven. Still even if he has his own way of the sword he can be seen as a rather fatherly individual, treating others under his leadership as if they were his own flesh and blood. Granting them the utmost best he can offer them, and training them to protect themselves and become powerful warriors in their own right. While he may have his love of war however, that is not to say he is completely emotionally fortified like some superhuman, his mentality does have a weakness. While he can be seen ans an almost unstoppable juggernaut that you would really not want to take hostage or anger. Those that he knows are likely not as strong. The best way to make the castle fall after all. Is it to take it out brick by brick until it crumbles. History: It was 3000 years prior, the seraphs had protested him fighting, but his face too kind. His words too knowing. He was like a father to all angels. He was the holy father and he fell in a war. Camael wished he had been there instead of leading a small battalion against a larger horde of their traitor brethren. Of course he had won the battle against such a overwhelming odd but that didn't change the greatest loss that they had ever experienced. It was this moment that changed him. Other angels turned to the right hand of god for guidance but this seraph decided to grieve, he had earned the right too. It was a grieving that took a hundred years. When he had came out however, he was resolved. He was going to follow the path of god righteously and hold up the lords beliefs. Those that use his name in vain will not no the loss the angels felt. They will feel the Angel of War's wrath upon them. Such was his resolve, that many of his story revolved around his protection of the faith and his belief that one must not be afraid to resort to violence in protection of the weak members of the faith. He was the shield of the faithful in their time of great strife. The angel of war. In modern times however, he has mellowed out more to have a bit more care for the soldiers under his leadership outside of war. After all, his comrades have his back as much as he has theirs and being a complete Jackass would only result in him becoming betrayed. He has only rather recently become the King of his own set of Brave Saints stationing them in a vacant office building that he brought using his funds from his service in war. he expects them to become the best they can ever become. To defend the faith as he has done for countless years, true allies on the field of battle. "In the name of the lord, we swords that grant sanctuary to his followers, Thy will be done." Other: When your over 4000 year old and still a virgin Theme Song

La musique est venue sur une paire d'écouteurs assis sur la tête d'un jeune homme qui marchait dans les rues, s'arrêtant parfois à côté des entreprises et criant à travers des bacs et retirant de petites pièces mécaniques, les plaçant dans un sac à dos sur son dos. Daniel sifflait à temps avec sa musique alors qu'il fouillait dans la poubelle d'un dépanneur, ses mains gantées tirant un smartphone cassé. Avec un sourire, Danny a murmuré "Score! Parie que les pièces de ce petit chiot fonctionnent encore, peut probablement sauver le processeur." Triomphalement glisser le téléphone cassé dans l'une des poches de son sac, Danny a fermé le bac et jeté les gants de latex, attraper une autre paire de la boîte, conduit enregistré sur le côté de son sac à dos, et les glisser de façon préventive alors qu'il se déplaçait avec une source à son pas. Il était en train de chercher depuis une heure, de trouver toutes sortes de pièces utilisables, bien qu'un bâillement fort lui ait rappelé qu'il avait, encore une fois, permis à l'enthousiasme de l'emmener loin du sommeil. Bien que, tôt le matin était le seul moyen d'empêcher la police de le monter, il était donc préférable de le faire pour éviter le conflit (bien que le côté cynique de lui lui rappelait qu'il était probablement préférable d'arrêter simplement de plonger dans la poubelle pour des pièces alors qu'il avait plus qu'assez de revenus disponibles pour les acheter). Bien sûr, ce n'était pas la même chose pour lui que de sortir et de sauver des pièces orphelines et des bouts de technologie, et c'est pourquoi il est toujours parti tôt le matin si souvent, donnant des bouts de technologie qui aurait autrement fini dans un brûleur de déchets une chance de faire quelque chose à nouveau. C'était une idée stupide, Daniel n'était pas aveugle à cela, mais ça lui semblait juste. Donc, c'est pourquoi, au son de Skillet, il avait récupéré pendant la dernière heure et était résolu à continuer à le faire. Cependant, il s'approchait des bords de la ville et de l'immeuble de bureaux. Cette structure était étrange, surtout le mardi. Il était presque sûr que ses habitants n'étaient pas au courant de ses visites occasionnelles (et des raids de leur benne à ordures), mais en même temps il était relativement au courant de ses habitants aussi. Ce n'était pas inhabituel pour les structures qu'il a visitées, après que la plupart des magasins qui ont jeté de bonnes choses (il a arrêté de visiter des endroits qui n'avaient toujours rien pour lui) étaient des endroits qu'il ne voulait pas vraiment visiter. Cet endroit était différent, d'une certaine façon, et cela ignorait le fait que, d'une certaine façon, le sol semblait trembler ici parfois. Pourtant, malgré cette bizarrerie (et le fait qu'il semblait que les gens vivaient ici, en se basant sur le genre de choses qu'il a creusées, sans parler du manque constant d'équipement de bureau). D'habitude, même cette bizarrerie n'a pas tenu plus d'un moment, mais pour une raison quelconque, aujourd'hui en particulier, elle lui est parvenue. Il avait l'impression qu'il avait besoin de réponses, ou du moins pour avoir une sensation pour les habitants réels de la structure. Pour cette raison, il s'assit de l'autre côté de la route et décida d'attendre un moment. Ce n'était pas comme s'il avait autre chose à faire aujourd'hui, il n'avait pas à venir jusqu'à ce que le service d'approvisionnement se débarrasse de leurs culs et obtienne le prochain lot de pièces brutes. Alors, assis en face de la porte, il a enlevé la boîte à outils de son sac à dos, une boîte en métal rouge plus vieille que lui, et a étendu une petite bâche devant lui, sur laquelle ont été certaines de ses parties plus anciennes (pas les nouvelles acquisitions, il aurait besoin de les nettoyer et de les bricoler avec dans son atelier). En les regardant, dans l'œil de son esprit, il pouvait déjà voir les parties se rassembler. Un tournevis a été produit, et bientôt les morceaux d'un téléphone cellulaire (une sorte de Samsung quelque chose ou autre, Danny n'était pas tout à fait sûr quel genre) ont été épandus ensemble avec des parties de quelques anciennes radios AN-PRC JEM (Un cadeau de l'énorme stock de son papa de vieux équipement Marine Corps). Son espoir était de les combiner pour former une installation COM à longue portée (probablement une radio satellite d'une sorte), mais comme jamais il n'était pas sûr s'il avait l'acuité technique pour l'ingénieur. Pourtant, pour une raison quelconque, il se sentait étrangement optimiste quant à l'issue de cette petite expérience, et Daniel perdit rapidement la vue de son but originel (en gardant un œil sur le bâtiment) et devint absorbé par l'acte de la création.

Name: Daniel James Williams Age: 26 Former Race: N/A Race: Human Card: N/A Notable Skill's: Daniel is a skilled engineer and tinkerer, loving to solve problems with his hands and technology. As a result of his many feats of, as he calls it, "Southern Engineering", he's a competent shot and decent enough with explosives. He's skilled with computers as well as technology of the manual variety. His greatest skill, if you ask him, is his ability to think on his feet and improvise, mashing together parts on the fly to make a new creation. Holy Sacraments: N/A Equipment: A pair of safety goggles, normal civvies, and a large backpack full of spare parts and tools, semi-haphazardly thrown together. Sacred Gear: True Technician - Daniel's sacred gear makes understanding new things a matter of simplicity for him, so long as he can place his hands on it (Note: This doesn't mean he picks up a history book and knows all of history, it means he picks up an engine and knows how it works). From magical inscriptions, to 500 lb bombs to an F-16, no inanimate object can hide its function from Daniel, and with that knowledge combined with his own knowledge, he can often modify or reproduce most of what he comes across Magic: N/A Personality: Daniel is a nice guy at heart, who tries to do his best for people. He wears his heart on his sleeve, earnest and honest about his feelings and intentions. He is easily excitable and enjoys making jokes and telling stories, trying to be the life of the party. What many consider to be his best trait, however, is his ingrained sense of loyalty and dedication. Whether he's committed to a cause or a person, he will not waver and he will not abandon it, come hell or high water he'll continue. History: Daniel grew up in the Deep South, raised mostly by his mother, and lived what many would call the good life. He went hunting and fishing sometimes, and spent a lot of time experimenting with anything his hands came to. He developed a deep love and appreciation for explosives and guns, however, because of his father. The man was a Marine named Mac, once an officer, and had a deep haunted past, having witnessed the death of his entire platoon twice. So, while he was too damaged to be of much use in raising the child, in his moments of lucidity he passed on not only his expertise to his child, often saying "No son of mine is going to be defenseless.". From his dad he learned about explosives and weapons, but his great love of creating (and his true appreciation for weapons) came from his real father figure, a gunsmith named Michael. From Michael he learned not only about making guns (A talent Daniel revels in), but of engineering in general. From weapons to fans to cars, Daniel (often called Danny by the man) learned how to make nearly anything. Because of this, he learned a great deal about math and science, enough to graduate with honors. Out of high school, he went to trade school and got his welding certificate, and became a commercial welder. A job he continues to work, and happily, though now he's moved on to the East Coast, where job opportunities abounded, and occasionally even gets to go overseas when his company deigns fit to assign him to projects outside the states. Other: N/A

Le royaume de la Terre était un soleil éclatant éclatant, un sourire sur le visage des dragons quand il est entré dans le royaume. Il se tenait haut au-dessus des arbres et plantait la vie et regardait vers le bas sur le héros qui devait être. "Eh bien d'abord, nous avons besoin de vous obtenir familiar avec ce royaume lui-même donc sautez sur mon dos et je vais vous donner une petite visite" il a dit comme il a baissé sa grande aile dorée brun au mortel avant lui. Les ailes du dragon s'élançaient légèrement alors qu'il démangeait pour voler au-dessus de son propre royaume. Le royaume de la Nature et de la vie était l'un des royaumes qui traversaient tous les royaumes humains. Son histoire a longtemps été oubliée dans les bibliothèques de Gerinika le dragon de la connaissance, mais personne ne l'avait vue depuis des siècles. Le dragon Life s'envola après que le mortel fut sur son dos et vola autour des vastes terres des arbres et des grands murs du château, mais il n'y avait pas de véritable château là-bas que des murs du château massif comme si tout ici faisait partie de sa maison, de sa vie. Il s'envola vers un petit temple, le renversa et le déracina au-dessus du sol. C'était un grand temple d'or et dit : « Entre, descends le hall à ta gauche, tu verras deux grandes portes et tu les traverseras. Il vous conduira à la grande cuisine que je serai là." Le royaume de la Mort était un royaume massif rempli de skelton dragons et tous, les dragons des mythes était un qui pouvait effrayer n'importe qui en morceaux alors que les yeux du dragon de la mort s'éteignaient tandis que le pied du mortel marchait dans la grande salle de la salle du trône. Le dragon massif était assis là ses yeux resplendissant brusquement "Bonjour, je suis Ying le Dragon de la Mort" a piétiné le dragon comme il était une créature massive l'homme ressemblait à une fourmi par rapport à lui. Le dragon grondissait doucement alors qu'il descendait sa tête massive pour regarder les yeux de près mortels briller les yeux brillants franges barrées légèrement. "Je suis Ying le dragon de la mort qui pourriez-vous être mortel?"Il a pris le dragon noir alors qu'il le regardait avec un snarl pointu sur son visage. Tesku était le chef du royaume d'amour fangs bared légèrement à son élève le faisant apparaître avant lui fangs bared profondément à lui « MON travail n'était pas pour vous d'être un jouet pour les femmes. COMPRENDRE?! Vous ne passerez plus de nuits avec ces femmes, compris? vous serez entrainé avec moi pour les cinq prochains mois maintenant vous serez dans mon royaume il n'y a pas de filles ici seulement moi et mes professeurs" il a dit agressivly crocs bared à ses yeux de jeune élève rétréci avant qu'il a tourné son long corps et dit "Viens alors" il a dit et a commencé à marcher vers les grands yeux de construction massifs rétrécis doucement les yeux fermés et agressifs "Maintenant, allons vous avez beaucoup à apprendre à être un vrai héros" dit les yeux rétrécis et soupirant doucement comme ils marchaient en petit silence. Ils arrivèrent dans le grand bâtiment et s'assirent légèrement et regardèrent à l'extérieur et regardèrent l'humain "Dites-moi ce que vous voyez là-bas" dit-il lentement. Le monde du dragon d'or de la cupidité et du péché humain était dans son château posé loin de la ville normale, mais il pouvait entendre l'ennemi humain son monde. Il envoya donc son gardien et le dragon le plus digne de confiance car le dragon était un petit bleu d'or s'il s'envolait vers l'INN et s'envolait et les humains s'éloignaient et s'en allaient comme le petit dragon regardait droit les crocs humains barrés légèrement mais la voix des maîtres lui ordonna de fermer sa bouche et elle le fit. Suivez-moi si vous voulez rencontrer le dragon, vous serez le héros du petit dragon dit des yeux éclatants et conduit vers la porte et hors du château et loin du royaume principal et vers la périphérie vers les endroits où aucun homme ne va la place de leur seigneur de dragon. Le château du dragon d'or de la cupidité. Le dragon a marché et après environ cinq heures ils sont venus au château massif et il a dit "Allez dans les couloirs à droite et éneter être averti bien que ne touchez à rien dans ce château sa colère est quelque chose de trop dangereux pour vous de comprendre" Le dragon a averti la femelle comme il tournait et s'est enfui rapidement. Le dragon d'or a été mélangé avec l'or dans lequel il était.

Name: Contestine Age: Over 2 million years old Domain : The Ice Realm Powers - Freezing the ground on which people stand - able to manipulate a fire of freezing temperatures, which would be capable of freezing the target with ice burns that are more severe than normal burns. - Create ice storms. - utilize ice manipulation with their physical combat, allowing them to both create tools and weapons for attack and manipulate the environment for their advantage - becomes a physical manifestation or personification of the element of ice - can become invisible when in/on/touching snow. Personality : A dragon who's heart has no love in it before. after his love died from human invaders once he became a very dark and dangerous dragon that rule over. The dangerous dragon, unfortunately, do not have compacity, to understand the human heart and relate to them as they had killed his beloved. But as much he hates humans he spares all young warriors and children that stumble across him. He has shown a small spark of emotion in him with servants and his princable's but he has a great kind heart under all of the dragons and their loss of loved ones or even younger servants he shows a very kind heart to at time. But to his hero he shows a cold stare and no heart but under it all lies a kind heart that will take time to erase and thaw out. History : When he was created by the Lord of Life he was created with the powers of ice and made a servant at first. Unlike other Lords he had to work for his Lordship while others where born in it. He worked so very hard to create his kingdom and his servants and created his princables and all they hold in the kingdom. After he worked so long he holds the kingdom with upmost respect and honor in his eyes and if anyone should fail he will be dissapointed. Picture : Stands 44 feet tall, wingspan of 130 feet big and his all together leanth to his tip of his tail is 140 feet long. Theme Song

Interagir avec: Chris s'était réveillé de son sommeil. Comme d'habitude à cause du son ennuyeux de son horloge numérique. Après s'être levé, il s'est brièvement demandé si l'absence de téléphones cellulaires ou d'appareils mobiles pour empêcher d'autres parties de suivre son emplacement valait cette agonie tous les jours. Malgré cela, il a été soulagé d'avoir trouvé ce Roadhouse hier. Parce qu'il était idéalement placé près des frontières de la ville, ce qui en fait un endroit approprié pour installer ses caméras de surveillance pour surveiller la circulation hors de la ville, bien qu'il puisse ne pas les avoir entre les mains maintenant, c'était une idée digne de faire un mémo. Il a commencé à éteindre l'horloge d'Annoying et il a continué sur son chemin vers la salle de bains, pour se rendre présentable, parce qu'aujourd'hui était mardi et cela signifiait "aujourd'hui est un jour d'éparpillement". Après avoir rapidement pris une douche, il a pris un de ses manteaux de signature et est rentré dans sa chambre, a stocké son horloge numérique dans son sac à dos et a procédé à l'emballage de tous ses biens, après l'avoir terminé, Chris n'a pas perdu de temps et a marché à un rythme rapide à la réception laissant derrière une pointe généreuse, et a fait son chemin de l'auberge. Après avoir été à une distance considérable des yeux humains, Chris a profité de l'environnement sans être humain pour sprinter un peu plus vite vers sa destination. Prenant un bon Sprint de 15 minutes, Il était enfin en contact visuel avec sa destination, après avoir apprécié le paysage un peu, il a dit "Homme, ce sont des défenses vraiment peu profondes, je veux dire Qu'est-ce qui se passe avec ce gars à l'entrée de notre bureau". En arrivant à l'entrée du bureau, Chris l'a dit à voix haute."Nous avons vraiment besoin de personnel de sécurité ici je veux dire pas même un piège ou une contre-mesure contre les envahisseurs". Ne pas se soucier de la réaction qu'il aurait eue à entrer. Ayant atteint sa destination, Chris a supposé que c'était une meilleure décision d'aller à l'Altar La chambre d'abord, après tout, rendre hommage au progéniteur de la seule personne qui l'a sauvé était le strict minimum qu'il pouvait faire en considérant qu'il ne respire maintenant qu'à cause d'eux.Il s'est agenouillé et a fait une petite prière de 3 minutes avant d'entrer dans la salle principale. Sensant toutes les présences avant de monter dans le hall, Chris a dit aux trois figures « Alors je suis le troisième, hein, dans mon livre qui est encore en retard ».

Name: Christoffer Aleksander Eilert Age: 23 years as a human 4 years as an angel Former Race : Human Race: Two-Winged Angel Card: 10 of Spades Notable Skill's : Flight:Like most of the angels chris can fly with the elegance of a bird, most of the time even better,performing 3-d maneuvers with ease. Precision: Chris can pinpoint and hit a target with tremendous accuracy,being able to spot most vulnerabilities and opportunities with a glance. Keen perception: Retaining some degree of his memories and experience from his previous life,chris is always very aware of his surroundings paying attention to the most minute of the details. Putting it together with his Recently acquired magic, he can perceive even the movement of an ant in the corner of a room. Masterful spear handling : Chris is very capable with a spear being it when intercepting other weapons with the edge of his spear or when spinning it 360º either 180º degrees to block incoming attacks.He makes even unorthodox moves at times at close range. Throwing Talent:Be it a holy spear or a needle, Chris can handle most throwing weapons with a remarkable ease. Holy Sacraments: Holy Light's Solace: A magical bracelet capable of summoning forth the blessings of heaven in the form of a pompous and intense light from the skies. The one enveloped by the light is invigorated, his ailments are gone and minor injuries engaged instantly in a healing process. Severe injuries like multiple fractures in the bone structure may not heal at first. Equipment: Sacred Gear: None yet. Magic : Unorthodox light projection:Like most angels,Chris can project light and condense it into a solid light weapon emanating holy energy.But through careful research and experimentation,he reached the conclusion that the light projections can be used in a much wider spectrum of ways. Luminous Waybill: Chris carries around with him small mirrors,in his pocket that upon being flung into the air are sustained by an almost invisible thread of light in his fingers that he uses to maneuver them around changing the trajectory of projectiles that he and others make. Radiant awareness:Chris can sustain a silent and gentle blue aura around him thaat expands 200m,into a field where he can sense most threats incoming and their nature, the same holding true for his allies, being able to estimate their physical condition. Personality: Christoffer is a very observant and serious,man though he can be at times rather silly with his suppositions.He is rather paranoid with people's intentions at all times and he Usually over thinks the meaning of people's words and actions.But if anything what distinguishes him even further to the society's normal standards is his will to do what it takes to bring the pieces of the puzzle together to solve a problem and finding a meaning to the continued struggles of life. History: Christoffer was born in the U.S.A, regardless of his danish lineage, there he lived alone With his mother, since his father that was a cop died in the line of duty during a gunfight. When he was at the tender age of 4. Because of that sudden incident, Chris even during his Childhood began to develop a very serious attitude towards the world. Even during the everyday life when in the streets or in school, he would take the utmost caution with every petty detail. Growing up, he was capable enough in his studies to score multiple A grades, during high school. But after finishing high school at the age of 18, he would find out that his life was taking a meaningless direction after all, studying everyday enclosed in a room Getting out only to supply his measly bodily functions, Did not seem very promising. So He tried something different, he made an application to the police academy after some time Hoping he could find out there the reasons that motivated his father in being a cop and some meaning To his death. He managed to enter the academy and there he trained for 5 years, never forgetting the earned mental discipline. In one of these days during the fifth year of his stay at the academy, he returned home, as usual to see his mother. Only to find out she wasn't there, he proceeded in pursuing clues to where his mother was and the only thing he managed to find was an unusual religious book. After exhausting each of his contacts at the academy, when countless days passed, he was sure that his mother went missing. He questioned himself "why". After 5 years searching for the meaning of his father's death to no avail, why was he attached to the hope he could find his mother if he only could understand and get to the source of this book? During the next 6 months Chris started to frequent the church hoping he could find some meaning for the struggles of his life. Why his father had died? Why his Mother his life only Solace disappeared ? Why he was fated to be always lonely. And so 3 months later, after a rather peculiar day of work at the Police station, when Chris was on his way home he noticed it, on a rather dim alleyway there were 3 thugs threatening a young family of 3 people, one father, one mother and one son, Chris knew what was going to happen, But he couldn't allow such a thing to happen on his watch. He couldn't allow someone to lose their family on his line of sight. So he intervened sending a warning shot to the thugs, in the following fraction of a second, he screamed his lungs out, telling the family to jump on the ground, making use of the dim illumination he sneaked through the shadows and managed to pull some large trash bins on the way of the thugs bullets, providing cover to the family while he gained some time. The family managed to get away, and for that he was glad but this battle was a lost cause, he only had 2 bullets remaining, for dealing with 3 thugs refusing to back down and that already knew his location. Chris knew that, but he couldn't go out without a fight. What followed next happened in the span of 5 seconds at the edge of his vision near his cover behind the trash bins, there were some garbage bags he could not hesitate any longer he threw the bags in the air, hoping that they would receive the shots, and they did, it was at that moment that chris opened fire with his remaining bullets hoping for the best. The result was pretty good 2 of the thugs got punctured through the stomach and ended up on the ground, but regardless of that "pretty good" just wasn't enough the third thug's retaliation was a shot between his eyes. In the few last moments of his brain activity, He Could sort out only one thought. "Not yet I have to find it the meaning of this ..life." And then all the lights of his world came to an end. Other:

Interagir avec: Akemi s'est réveillée avec un début. Un autre rêve? Non, un autre cauchemar. Deux ans s'étaient écoulés depuis l'incident, mais son esprit ne pouvait que dériver vers sa mort. Sa main a embrayé le tissu sur sa poitrine alors qu'elle soufflait dedans et dehors pour calmer son cœur. Elle était en sécurité maintenant... ou bien, relativement plus sûre. Avec les nouveaux pouvoirs qui étaient venus avec être réincarnés comme un ange, elle était assez sûre qu'elle pouvait se protéger du mal... quelque peu. Bien qu'elle ait dû admettre, les autres membres de la pairie étaient follement forts par rapport à elle. Ça l'a toujours dérangée comme ils étaient ligues devant elle. Elle était dérangée dans un sens qu'elle était en retard et pourrait finir par devenir inutile et Camael pourrait même ne plus la voir comme une unité et puis... était-il possible de prendre la carte en eux? Si c'était le cas, alors il était tout à fait possible qu'il l'abandonne tôt ou tard! "Ce n'est pas une bonne façon de commencer ta journée Akemi!" Elle a dit avant de lui gifler les deux joues pour qu'elle puisse se psychiser. Camael était trop gentil pour faire quelque chose comme ça après tout. Elle a ouvert les rideaux à sa chambre pour laisser la lumière du soleil inonder... c'est-à-dire jusqu'à ce qu'elle réalise qu'il était trop tôt le matin. Elle n'avait pas l'impression de vouloir aller dormir non plus. Peut-être qu'il vaudrait mieux aller au bureau maintenant et peut-être faire du café et du thé pour tout le monde à leur arrivée. Ouais! C'est une bonne idée! Elle a rapidement pris un bain et a mis ses vêtements habituels de veste et de jeans. Il faisait assez froid là-bas pour être honnête parce qu'il était si tôt le matin donc elle s'est assurée de se couvrir. Elle a pris son knapsack et s'est enfuie. Elle tremblait alors qu'elle marchait dehors - l'air du matin fraiche et froid soufflait contre elle, se baladant à travers ses vêtements. Elle a dû se dépêcher. Akemi avait décidé de ne pas s'installer au bureau pour des raisons personnelles. Eh bien, le bureau n'était pas trop loin de l'endroit où elle s'était installée. Ce n'était pas trop loin de son ancienne maison non plus où ses parents habitaient pour qu'elle puisse les contacter n'importe quand. Akemi marchait rapidement dans les rues vides. Il était trop tôt le matin pour que les gens se lèvent et c'était bon pour elle. Elle voulait juste voler là-bas pour pouvoir y arriver plus vite mais elle ne pouvait pas risquer d'être vue par les humains. Qui sait ce qui pourrait arriver quand ils la verront avec des ailes blanches écartées. Qu'est-ce qu'ils en penseraient si ses amis sortaient de leurs ailes? Ils avaient l'air beaucoup plus majestueux avec la quantité d'ailes qu'ils avaient après tout. Ses pensées étaient perturbées par la vibration de son téléphone. Elle l'a sorti et a lu le message. Oh, c'était juste une publicité. Cependant, une autre chose a attiré son attention. C'était mardi. Le jour de Camael. Elle détestait le temps de la semaine. Bien sûr, pas parce qu'elle détestait Camael ou quoi que ce soit. En fait, elle le respecte vraiment! Cependant, chaque fois que c'était mardi, c'était toujours une journée d'entraînement. Alors qu'elle était d'accord pour être aidée avec des attaques offensives et même des batailles de groupe simulées, elle détestait vraiment être forcée de se battre sur une seule bataille. Elle devait compter sur sa propre force pour celle-là. Et elle n'avait littéralement aucune confiance dans ses capacités offensives. Peut-être qu'elle pourrait encore s'enfuir? Peut-être appeler malade? Ou dites-leur que ses parents l'avaient appelée pour qu'elle la rencontre à nouveau! Ce n'était pas toute la vérité, mais ce n'était pas un mensonge non plus. Ses parents ont toujours voulu la voir après tout. Malheureusement pour elle, il semble qu'il était déjà trop tard pour cela car elle était déjà arrivée à l'entrée du bureau. Akemi a laissé sortir un soupir déjecté en entrant. Ses mains étaient serrées sur les sangles de son sac. En entrant, elle pouvait immédiatement sentir la présence de Camael dans le bureau. Qu'est-ce qu'elle attend d'autre? Cependant, au lieu d'aller directement vers lui, elle monta d'abord à la pièce où se trouvait l'autel. Elle s'est agenouillée puis a serré les mains ensemble et a murmuré une prière. Au cours des deux dernières années, elle s'était habituée à ce poste grâce à son pouvoir. Mais c'était différent. Ce n'était pas pour demander la protection et la force - ce n'était que pour remercier pour un autre jour et prier pour les âmes qui avaient péri. Elle avait rapidement terminé sa prière, puis elle s'est rendue directement à la salle principale. Là, elle a vu Camael et seulement lui. Les autres n'étaient pas encore là? Elle s'est peut-être levée un peu trop tôt. Avec un sourire, elle l'a accueilli. "Bonjour Camael. C'est une belle journée, n'est-ce pas?" Elle s'est ensuite arrêtée, les mains maintenant serrées derrière elle. Il n'était pas utile de s'inquiéter de cette formation maintenant. Elle n'a pas eu d'évasion de toute façon ainsi pourrait aussi bien procéder normalement. "Voulez-vous que je prépare du thé et du café pour les autres?" Elle a demandé, offrant ses services comme elle faisait toujours tous les jours pendant la durée de son devenir un ange. C'était le moins qu'elle puisse faire pour eux. Après tout, ils la suivent depuis si longtemps, alors elle s'est toujours sentie obligée de faire quelque chose pour eux, même si ce n'était qu'un petit acte comme celui-ci.

Name: Akemi Haruna Age: 18 Former Race: Human Race: Two-winged Angel Card: Two of Spades Notable Skills: - Cooking: This woman can cook practically anything in perfection. Mixing herbs into her cooking and still making it taste great is one of the main reasons this is something to be mentioned. - Flight: Like any other angel, she can utilize her wings to fly. However, she has shown that she is faster in the air than on the ground. She meticulously controls her flight which results to her able to fly fast and turn without a problem. - Herbalist: Because she was aiming to become a Biologist before she tragically died, she has a wide knowledge about many plants and their effects. She still uses this knowledge to help her fellows out. - Singing: Even before she was reincarnated as an angel, she already had a good and solid voice. She has a pretty wide pitch range. Unfortunately, she is too shy to show it off to anyone besides her family and boyfriend. Holy Sacraments: It is a magical ring with the power to cancel out magic and enchantments. It is placed on her right index finger. The ring is able to cancel all magic and enchantments of Brave Saints - does not work on pureblood angels or those that are too powerful - in an area. She is able to put a 'marker', which is essentially the center of the five meter radius where the magic/enchantments are negated, anywhere in her line of sight. Anyone in the radius would become unable to cast magic - friend and foe alike. This does not affect her. Equipment: Sacred Gear: N/A Magic: - Light Projection: Like all angels, she can create virtually anything with this power. The weaponry she creates are relatively weaker than most; however, her defensive constructs are nothing to laugh at. Her defensive constructs are pretty solid and is known that it could withstand a number of attacks. Song of the Angels: By singing a singular song, she is able to strengthen all aspects to all of her allies that are able to hear her. The song buffs up speed, agility, endurance, mental resistance, strength and numbs pain for the duration of the song. The moment she stops singing, the buff would completely disappear until she sings again. When she starts dodging while singing, the effects lessens but it is still there. However, when she uses other types of magic (excluding the sacracment's magic), she is unable to sing as she needs to concentrate on one magic completely (for now at least). To activate: Akemi recites the Lord's Prayer while kneeling and with her hands clasped together in a praying position. Once she finishes, the people around her must respond with 'Amen' and the buff is immediately administered. If they do not respond, the buff will not be administered to them. As she recites the second time around, she is freely able to move; however, it is better if she is stationary as moving dodging attacks lessens the effect. Also, the others do not need to respond. Only Angels may receive the buff - a demon or fallen angel responding would result to them feeling the physical pain of burning for the duration of the buff. - Language: Like all angels, she has the ability to talk in any language and understand it. She is especially thankful for this as this means she can read books written on other languages without a problem. Personality Akemi is a very insecure person who often is not sure if she can do it or not. It only takes a bit of convincing for her to try something out but even then she is a nervous wreck. She has a tendency to stutter. Insulting her is a great way to make her withdraw but encouraging her also bolsters her morale almost immediately. She is quite a nice person and is very helpful. She's a very good listener and tries to give good advices when possible. She has a bit of a problem with talking in front of many people. Her voice becomes a whisper and her thoughts jumble up. Thankfully, she is able to converse with members of the angelic peerage properly and has no problem with them. To others, however... well, there lies the problem. Lately, she has been improving. History: Akemi doesn't have a very colorful background. In fact, it was very... bland and ordinary. She wasn't a very social person and her parents were always never home but she often spends time alone by reading books and fantasizing of a future far more grand than she can ever hope to achieve. She felt that being in the fictional world is better than anything else. Written words were always better than spoken ones for her. She had very few friends and even they sometimes forget about her. She doesn't have much of a presence after all. This never bothered her of course. She was more than happy to simply bury herself in books wherein no one would judge her. She won't have to make an effort to appeal to anyone. It was perfect. However, one day when she was sixteen, she met this man. He seemed like a nice man. His name? Kenji Callas. He helped her out when she was out in a garden naming plants. She then found out that he lived nearby. Ever since then, she'd been meeting him more and more frequently and they've had some in depth talk. He was the first person to ever pull her out of her books. And the more she spent time with him, the more she felt like she was falling in love with him. After eight months, he confessed and she accepted. She didn't know she could have even felt this happy in all of her life. After all, she never expected she would ever find someone she could love romantically. That was the best year of her life. But all good things must come to an end. On a camping trip, a year after they became lovers, they were attacked. She wasn't sure what they were and she doesn't really remember all that much. She only has hazy memories of Kenji trying to protect her and then her dying. She thinks Kenji actually ran after the culprits. She was dying and she knew it. She was prepared to close her book. That was when he arrived. An angel of the heavens. She was resurrected into an angel herself. Camael was her savior. She didn't understand it for a while but finally got a hang of it. It has been two and a half years since then.

- Des schwertélites. Contrairement à quelques autres dans son pairage Leite, était debout depuis la fissure de l'aube. Peu de temps avant de se lever et tout cela, bien qu'elle ait certes eu du mal à se coucher tôt à certains moments. Ce n'était pas important, le Valkyire était habitué à ne pas dormir autant qu'elle le devrait probablement. L'effort et le dévouement à son travail nécessitaient parfois un peu moins de sommeil que ce dont les autres avaient besoin. En plus, elle n'était pas comme si elle allait se faire du mal. "Haaa..." La Valkyrie s'étirait, essuyant la sueur de son front avec un bâillement fatigué. "Je ne devrais pas travailler si dur avant la journée d'entraînement." Elle a dit, jetant ses vêtements et marchant dans la douche. "Je ne veux pas me fatiguer avant..." En entrant dans sa douche, la Valkyrie s'est rapidement lavée. Elle attendait avec impatience la journée d'entraînement, comme toujours. Elle a toujours fait valoir qu'elle faisait toujours de son mieux et qu'elle ne retenait personne, même les plus jeunes membres de la pairie. Ça ne marcherait pas, après tout. Se rendre facile sur eux ne ferait que les rendre mous, et ce n'était pas comme ça qu'on devrait s'entraîner. Après avoir jeté sa tenue habituelle, la Valkyrie a quitté sa maison. Autant qu'elle aimait ses compagnons, elle préférait vivre loin d'eux, ne serait-ce que pour se permettre un certain temps d'arrêt de temps en temps. Mais ce n'était pas trop loin, heureusement. "Oh... semble que je suis un peu en retard, heh." Leite dit, marchant dans la salle de l'autel avec les autres. Cinquième à arriver, du regard des choses. -- Eh bien, je suppose que c'est ce qui se passe quand on perd la trace de l'entraînement dans le temps... comment va le matin de tout le monde? Elle a demandé au groupe, se penchant contre l'un des murs et pliant ses bras contre sa poitrine. "Tout le monde est prêt pour une journée d'entraînement amusante?" Du sourire géant que la Valkyrie leur donnait, il était fort probable qu'elle allait en profiter peut-être un peu trop. Quiconque la connaissait savait qu'elle avait peut-être tendance à prendre l'entraînement un peu trop au sérieux.

Name: Isobel 'Schwertleite' Sinnot Most angels simply call her Schwertleite, and is her preferred name. Age: 23 Former Race: Half-Valkyrie (Father was a human, that is.) Race: Angel, four Wings Card: Queen of Spades (because I deserve both queens since I am that fabulous) Notable Skill's: - Swordsmanship. Schwertleite has been trained by father since she could hold a sword to wield one, and to say she is no slouch is a bit of an understatement. While she perhaps lacks the sheer physical strength certain other angels, demons, and other beings may possess, she more than makes up for it with her magical ability and agility. - Educated. Likewise, her parents spared no expense in her education. She considers herself to be fairly educated in both the realms of the supernatural as well as on earthly topics. That said, she does have very little interaction with humans and human items and technologies and can often get distracted by shiny new earth things. - Flight. Like all Angels, she is capable of flight and has been shown to be fairly agile and dexterous with her wings. While perhaps not possessing sheer speed as some might, she is nothing if not an acrobat. - Surprisingly, she likes to relax by drawing and considers herself to be a bit of an artist. One can often find her sketching landscapes or other members of her peerage stealthily if she can manage it. Holy Sacraments: Fragarach: The Answerer, The Retaliator. A Legendary sword of Ireland, forged by the Gods and used by many of its heroes - Notably Lugh Lamfada, Cuchuulain, and Conn of the Hundred Battles. It was passed down in Schwertleite's family until it was finally bestowed upon her. The sword itself glimmers with a pale blue light, with a gold hilt and blue blade and is fairly elegant in construction. As a holy sword, the weapon is highly effective against demons and grants the wielder a rather unique set of abilities. When held against a person's throat, they cannot speak a lie and will find moving difficult. By channeling ones magic through it, one is able to channel the wind, and the blade is sharp and can cut through any normal metals with relative ease. Schwertleite's proficiency with the swords more supernatural elements unfortunately leaves much to be desired. While she is skilled with it she still has a long way to go before being anywhere near the level of the swords previous owners. Equipment: The armored robes she wears, but nothing else much really. Sacred Gear: N/A Magic: As a Valkyrie turned angel, Schwertleite possessed immense magical ability of her people and Asgard, and she tends to know this and has no lack of confidence in her abilities. - Light Projection: Like all angels, Schwertleite can use this to create practically anything she wants. Typically, she uses it for offensive purposes such as weapons. In her case, her favorite is a pole-arm of some sort for long-range engagements. If she has need for a boost in close range, she tends to make a second sword, or short spear for mid range engagements. - Ice Magic: Like her father taught her how to wield a sword, her mother taught her magic. She is highly proficient with ice-based magic thanks to her mother. While her mother was definitely proficient with multiple types of magic, Schwertleite has only so far been able to master Ice, thanks to also her focus on swordsmanship so she could inherit Fragarach. Plus, with her magic having Nordic roots her magic tends to be fairly effective against most targets. - Language: And of course, she like all angels possesses an inherent knowledge of any and all languages on earth. Personality The first thing one would observe in Schwertleite, is that she tends to be a fairly serious and studious person. And when I say serious, I mean serious in everything. The Valkyrie doesn't half-ass anything be it from studying, training, playing, or fighting. This can make people a bit intimidated by the tall, fairly well-built Gaelic girl. If one happens to meet her in the middle of training or studying, it could leave a fairly bad impression since she'll often be too focused on what she is doing to be friendly, and if interrupted she tends to get cranky. If working with comrades, she will expect the same level of seriousness. Work now, play later. If one meets her in her down time or while she's otherwise indulging in her more leisurely activities, one would find her fairly amicable and a bit of a sassy jokester. This seriousness also extends to battles and fights as well, and she can often get rather caught up in the moment and be rather competitive, and doesn't like others to interrupt her fights either - this can cause massive amounts of problems with her peerage, since she has trouble working together at times and often prefers to do things herself. One major character flaw, however, that any angel should be highly aware of - is her pride. She has a tendency to think fairly highly of her skills and abilities, and while she is friendly and doesn't put down other people's skills, any personal insult to her abilities won't be taken well and she strives to be the best at everything she does. She has a deep seated hatred of demons for killing her mother, and will never, under any circumstance co-operate with them, and would do anything to find the whereabouts of her missing father, though she fears the worst. History: Schwertleite's history would begin with a Valkyrie of dubious importance in the halls of Valhalla. She was a Valkyrie to be sure, and quite skilled at what she did but she was never anything special. Well, unless you count Odin pestering her constantly because he's a pervert, but that's not this story. This one is a rather simple story, really, and one that's not all that unheard of. Her mother fell in love with a human male. An Irishman with some pretty far reaching ancestry all the way back to the time of ancient heroes such as Lugh Lamfada and others. How'd they meet? Well, he just so happened to take a certain holy sword out one day for training and they happened upon each other and decided to see how exactly the other matched up. He may have been a human, but with that sword in his possession apparently he put up a pretty good fight against the Valkyrie. So the two eventually fell in love and blah blah kinky stuff happened blah blah and then Schwertleite was born. Schwertleite, unlike most other valkyries wasn't born as a half god, though she still possessed some such qualities that all Valkyries possessed...and she had a rather curious time growing up. Her father happened to be a fairly extremely devout christian, and her mother was obviously not. Growing up, she wasn't really sure what to believe a lot of the time, but at her mothers request she attended school in Valhalla and was taught there, as well as how to be a valkyrie. Thanks to her nature though, she was looked down upon quite a bit as being inferior. She didn't let it get to her - in fact she used it as a motivator to try and surpass all the other valkyries and she was pretty successful at it. Couple that with sword lessons from her father, she was well on her way to being a top-class valkyrie and when she graduated a few years early thanks to her skill and knowledge she spent a few years working in Valhalla for them. And then she turned 19. It was a normal day, in fact it was better than normal. Her father had decided she was both old enough and skilled enough to use the holy sword that his family had been entrusted too for generations. Only, things didn't go as planned. She doesn't remember much about what happened, but when her parents took her to let her use the sword it seems they weren't the only ones waiting. Her mother died, and her father went missing that day, after handing her the sword and telling her to run and not look back for even a second. After attempting to fight and almost dying in the process, she fled. It was the only time in her life she allowed herself to do such a thing, and has vowed never to run from any sort of demon or challenge ever again. When she went to Valhalla to seek help, they were surprisingly unresponsive, and since they had no idea who could have possibly done such a thing and they had almost no evidence to go on, she left, more than a little angry and told them she'd go find them herself...but how exactly would she do that? She never really put much faith in her fathers religion, and she had never actually met an angel before, so how could she find one? She had visited church with her father a few times before, but she had never really felt...at home there. If anything, she felt slightly out of place. Now though? Maybe if she did in fact pray hard enough an angel would answer. It seemed though, she didn't have to do even that. As soon as she walked into the church, she was greeted by an angel. He made her an offer, and she accepted. It's been about four years since then. Other: - Still has trouble using 'God' instead of 'Odin' at times. - Can easily get fascinated by human electronics. - During fights, Leite prefers to show no mercy and hit the foe hard, fast, and relentlessly. If engaged at range, she uses a mix of Ice magic and Light-weapon creation to bombard foes from afar. She is pretty accurate with dropping ice bergs on people, so to speak. If close to mid-range, she tends to blend swordsmanship and superior maneuverability with magic as the situation calls for it.

Il s'est réveillé dans un jardin aujourd'hui encore. Un lapin grignotant sur ses cheveux a réveillé le fils près de la fissure de l'aube. Ce n'était pas comme si l'ange n'avait pas d'autres logements, mais le fait de ne pas les accepter. Il pouvait à peine accepter de tels dons qui lui avaient été donnés auparavant, plus ne ferait que lui faire sentir bien pire. Sa robe avait protégé sa chemise blanche de la saleté qui lui permettait d'avoir moins l'air d'un idiot. La teinte brune de la robe correspond à la sensation poussiéreuse de la saleté. En marchant dans le jardin, il a commencé sa routine normale. " Sythe, vérifie. Le livre, vérifiez. Habillement, vérifiez. " Cela n'a pas duré beaucoup plus longtemps car il ne possédait pas beaucoup d'autre à son nom. Ses pieds nus de chaussures ont dit ça à n'importe qui. Il est arrivé, un moment plus tard qu'il n'essayait d'être d'habitude, en raison de bien, une autre âme pauvre fuyant la dureté de la réalité. Il avait visité son livre de façon décontractée et un nouveau nom avait surgi. Celui qu'il connaissait a trop souffert pour ne pas avoir d'ami pour les réconforter dans l'au - delà de la vie. Celui qui n'a jamais laissé les plantes à l'extérieur de sa fenêtre sans eau. Il avait enfin rencontré les immeubles de bureaux quand les souvenirs s'estompèrent. Traînant les doigts contre le côté de l'immeuble, il est entré. Aller directement à la salle de l'autel qui l'a toujours appelé à l'intérieur quand il est entré dans le bâtiment. Ne pas remarquer que les deux conversent à l'extérieur pour cacher son faux de leur vue. Il n'y avait plus qu'à entrer dans la porte de l'immeuble, puis il a raccroché derrière lui. En voyant cinq personnes attendre dans la grande salle, il hésita davantage. Oui, il les avait peut-être tous rencontrés, mais ils semblaient tous beaucoup plus sages et plus forts que lui. Il pourrait être le rouage inefficace de la machine. Il n'aurait jamais pu avoir ça. En se dirigeant silencieusement vers le groupe, il a décidé de ne pas casser la pièce. Il était toujours plus facile de regarder d'abord et de naviguer dans les cercles sociaux plus tard. Ils semblaient tous si proches aussi, c'était une honte qu'il allait casser cette image. Même si ce n'était qu'un salut social. "Bonjour..."

Name: Surial Ruschester. He doesn't use his last name allot, even when introducing himself. Age: He is young in looks and will always dodge the question. 24-26 ish based solely on looks. Former Race: Half Human half Reaper Race: Angel {Two winged, he's still quite new.} Card: 6 Notable Skills: Green Thumb; Due to the time he spent while a human as a herbalist's assistant he has a proficiency in growing plants of all sorts. Though he doesn't know any of their names or what they are good for most of the time her enjoys spreading their life even after being rebirthed. Extended Stamina; As the Assitant, his jobs would be anything from giving the water to his Herbalist or running halfway across town to buy something they forgot at the last moment. His extended stamina is a result of such excursions. Holy Sacraments: A long handled scythe. Forged by attaching a heavenly sword to a long branch blessed by the church. The scythe, much larger than Surial can be pressed into a smaller size, as to be seen as a gardening scythe for easier storage on his person. This was the first thing he was given as a new angel and he seldom leaves it unattended. It is rumored that getting hit by a single swing removes 100 years of life from the intended target and that its branch in return from compressing can stretch to give it user a longer reach. Equipment: He doesn't have much stuff of his own and often will ask others if he may help them by carrying their stuff. He doesn't mind this burden and often uses it as a way to repay any minor flaws of his own. Sacred Gear: He carries, attached to his belt, a book. Inside it's plain unless held by him in which it becomes the book of the fallen. Constantly updated with those who have passed as to allow him an easier time in finding them. This book also tracks whether their soul should go to heaven or hell. He had no knowledge (functionally illiterate) of how to properly use the book until he was turned into an angel in which he quickly began to notice how useful it actually is. Magic: Light Projection: His Projections are shaky at best and are due to improve. His projections usually cover his body as a sort of shield. Probably as that is his weakest point and he doesn't wear armor to cover it. These projections become even weaker when trying to take on an offensive point and he seems unmotivated to try and fix this with training. Other than that, as it was given to him when he became an angel he has no other forms of magic. Personality: He is strict with himself and others, though often has trouble holding others accountable for their mistakes, especially those who are above him in authority. Inwardly he is quite shy to new faces and doesn't trust easily, though he will go out of his way to help those even if he doesn't trust them. He doesn't see the purpose in taking a route to a solution that isn't efficient and tries not to dillydally. He acts how he feels he should act for most situations and tries his best to follow god's will. Any minor infraction of a rule or commitment causes him great stress, even if he is not to blame. He see's death as nothing to be afraid of and had often preached it to those dying when he still was human. He see's all life as something to be saved even if that life has been corrupted by sin he will still try. This view has barely changed and somehow has lead him to put himself in danger more often now as an angel then when he was a human. History: Since he was just a small lad he would go about accomplishing tasks set out for him. He enjoyed it that way. Helping his Mummy with the cleaning and gardening, gathering groceries for neighbors. He never tried much to be anything more than a gear in the machinery. It was to describe his personality then, that he got excited at hearing he was no longer to be staying with who he assumed were his parents. Given away to the church as payment of some debt his family owned he soon made a new name for himself as a devoted follower of God. Committing himself to following the principles of the church. He worked as he usually did in the church for years until he was old enough( and the father of the church too worn and strained to object to it) to get an apprenticeship at a small medical doctor's office. The woman who owned the place called it a herbalist's shop. He loved it there and saw the kind woman as a guide in his life. He helped her run the place for years, making home visits more often than her to the sick or dying. There he was often their last comfort, many were known to speak their final words to him as he blessed their souls to the heavens. After a bloody war had commenced on the fields so close to home, a torn soldier came stumbling into the shop. He was in the midst of treatment for his wounds when enemies came looking. Ater finishing off the poor man they tried to take Surial's boss for their own. A prize they said, spitting in his face as he looked on in dismay at the wrecked shop, a wrecked life. The encounter had put his life out of his control it was his first, and to him, last time he had ever let his emotions take control of the situation. In an act, so out of character for him, it would surprise him when he finally got ahold of his new life as an angel. He secured one of the only weapons in the shop, a small plant scythe in an action and began to swing, getting off two swipes before getting shot. As he lay he saw his boss running off, at least she had made it away unharmed. In his last few moments, he saw all too shapely light to be the passage to heaven and he was given an offer that he could never refuse. It hasn't been more than a month since he became an angel, and well he's still a fumbling. Other: Themesong cause why not. Poor baby knows nothing of how the heavens work. Be gentle.

Teshiko Maki Teshiko a cligné des yeux ouverts, prenant lentement dans le monde autour d'elle. Le soleil brillait sur elle pendant qu'elle était couchée dans un champ d'herbe, un seul arbre debout au sommet d'une petite pente qui gardait la lumière du matin de ses yeux. Cependant, ce n'était pas de l'herbe que sa tête reposait, c'était les genoux de quelqu'un, et que quelqu'un allait bientôt montrer son visage en la voyant se réveiller. "Bonjour, amour", lui a dit Kiyoshi alors qu'elle regardait son sourire chaleureux. « Bonjour, » l'ange a salué en se penchant pour donner un baiser au jeune homme. Une fois leurs lèvres séparées, Teshiko se levait enfin, debout sur ses deux pieds et aidant Kiyoshi à faire de même. Elle lui a donné un dernier sourire avant de commencer sa décente en bas de la petite colline, en attendant que son compagnon suive. Quand elle n'a pas senti ses doigts s'entremêler avec les siens, elle a regardé en arrière pour voir ce qui le prenait si longtemps. C'est à ce moment que la journée paisible s'est terminée. Des nuages sombres ont commencé à se former au-dessus alors que la nature autour de Kiyoshi commençait à se faner et à mourir. Une fois l'herbe verte semblait brunir en quelques secondes avant de vieillir et de ne devenir rien de plus que de la saleté nue. Les feuilles de l'arbre ont commencé à tomber, un vent dur apparaissant de nulle part pour les éloigner de la vue. Tout ça, avec la silhouette du garçon brun à cheveux qui semble se tenir dans l'épicentre de la pourriture dépassant ce monde autrefois magnifique. "Kiyoshi-?" Elle lui demanda, craignant et s'inquiétant de saisir ses paroles afin que seul son nom puisse laisser ses lèvres. C'est alors que ses ailes ressemblant à des chauves-souris se dépouillèrent soudainement derrière lui, faisant retomber l'ange dans l'effroi. Et puis le cauchemar s'est terminé. Teshiko a encore ouvert les yeux, seulement pour se retrouver dans les quartiers dormants de l'immeuble de bureaux que Camael avait revendiqué comme base pour leur groupe. Elle savait qu'elle était en sécurité maintenant, mais le cauchemar l'avait tellement secouée que, pendant plusieurs instants, elle restait assise dans son lit, sa peur précédente qui l'avait suivie de son rêve trahissant son calme habituel et recueilli la nature. Finalement, cependant, elle trouvait la force et la détermination de sortir de sous les couvertures, de s'habiller dans sa tenue habituelle, et de se rendre à la salle principale où tout le monde semblait se rassembler.

Name: Teshiko Maki Age: Appears 21, she lost count of her real age Former Race: Fallen Angel Race: Angel, eight wings Card: 9 Notable Skills: - Firsthand knowledge of a majority of Earth's history - Experienced flyer from being an angel for so many centuries - Learned how to cook and clean as she had planned to settle down with Kiyoshi Holy Sacrament: A pair of Kamas dubbed Mercy and Forgiveness that she had used back during the Great War of the Three Factions. While they may appear to be a very close quarters weapon, they can actually be used for long range as they have the power to manipulate the air and wind around her to an extent. The farther away her target is though, the less powerful her strikes will become. For example, were she to try and slash at an opponent that was ten feet away, it would be just like she had cut them with her kamas directly. Several miles away though and at best it would be a paper cut and that would be if it even hits. Equipment: N/A Sacred Gear: N/A Magic: Along with having light projection like any other angel, Teshiko also has the ability to control the very winds around her. Some spells include: - Supportive Gust: She can call in a gust of wind that will either slow her opponents or speed herself or an ally up. She can only call in one gust at a time, though she can manipulate its size so it doesn't only affect one person. The larger it is, the weaker the gust will be though. - Kind Breath: She can make the air more breathable for those who may be having trouble getting enough oxygen in their lungs or also dispel any toxins or poisons that she knows are present in the air. This only works if there's enough air in her vicinity to begin with though, meaning she can't just breathe in space or underwater. - Aeronautical Zephyr: She can lift objects into the air or cause them to fly if they are incapable, like a human. - Whirlwind Blast: She can blast an opponent with a strong wind, which will throw them back from her by a few feet, allowing her to create enough distance to not have to fight close quarters unless she has to. Personality: Due to her fall from grace with her fellow angels, Teshiko usually feels great shame being around those who know of her past, growing quiet and hiding herself in the background. Among those who know little of her history though, she is kind and helpful, hoping to see others reach their full potential and wanting to make sure they never fall to their desires as she had. She may not be the most powerful, but she has experience and that is something she wishes to pass onto the new recruits that have been reincarnated over recent years. It should also be noted that, despite the betrayal of Kiyoshi, she still looks back fondly on their time together and hopes that they might meet again someday under better terms. History: Teshiko was one of the original angels that were born before The Great War, having even fought side-by-side with Michael and Gabriel. She did not have nearly as high a rank as the two of them did, a total of eight white-feathered wings had adorned her back in those days, but she had been a highly-valued soldier during the fighting. Over the next several centuries, she would perform her duty as a guardian angel, protecting the humans assigned to her from the possible dangers of both their world and that of the supernatural. Until one day, she met someone that would change her world. Kiyoshi Kurosawa was one of the previously mentioned humans that the angel was assigned to keep safe, but she ended up growing attached to the boy. Eventually, she could no longer keep her desires in check and revealed herself to him as well as her feelings. This was looked down upon by the other angels, but she had not broken any rules set by the divine order so no action was yet taken. That would not last forever. After being together for a couple years, Teshiko and Kiyoshi would finally break one of the rules set by angels, one that the angel refuses to ever admit other than to those she trusts. With this act of heresy, she was turned into a Fallen Angel. Still, she had her Kiyoshi so the now impure woman was fine with this outcome. Fast forward another year, and Teshiko would finally discover the consequences of her actions as Kiyoshi's mortal life was cut short by a fatal crash. If that was not bad enough though, she would discover that he had been in contact with a peerage of demons as they turned him into a reincarnated devil. Now that the man she once loved was a part of a rival faction intent on hunting her down, she returned to the angels she was once excommunicated from and begged forgiveness. Mercy was granted to her and she was allowed to rejoin the side of the holy, though her feelings for her ex do not seem to have at all diminished even after everything he'd done. Other: Theme song

Une alarme a sonné dans un petit appartement juste en dehors des limites de la ville. Jane s'est réveillée aussi doucement qu'elle aurait pu le faire le son envahissant ses oreilles, ce qui veut dire qu'elle n'était pas douce du tout. Sa main se claquait sur le bouton snooze tandis que Jane tournait vers le haut vers le plafond et lui ouvrait les yeux. Où suis-je déjà? La question de Jane a été répondue par elle-même alors qu'elle reprenait les événements qui se sont produits. C'est vrai. J'ai emménagé ici pour un court moment. Jane pensait qu'elle regardait les boîtes qui étaient encore déballées. Certains d'entre eux avaient des produits ménagers légitimes, mais quelques-uns d'entre eux étaient encore légitimes, mais s'ils étaient assemblés illicitement. Celles-ci contenaient ses armes à feu, mais elles étaient démontées et exploitables. Si cela ne suffisait pas, elle a apporté un coffre-fort pour stocker les pièces et les munitions qu'elle a pu prendre. Vraiment, les lois du Japon étaient bizarres pour un Américain comme elle mais que pouvait-elle faire à ce sujet? Pourtant, sa première priorité avant de déménager ici était les dispositifs de sécurité et elle les avait déjà installés. Pas d'inquiétudes pour les effractions. Jane est enfin sortie du matelas d'air sur lequel elle dormait et est allée aux toilettes. Toujours des morceaux et des pièces étaient nécessaires pour la salle de bains, mais elle a au moins obtenu la plupart des accessoires dont elle avait besoin dans les boîtes. Jane a commencé à s'occuper des affaires, comme d'habitude de sa routine matinale. Après avoir pris une douche, Jane s'est regardée dans le miroir. Ce qui la regardait de nouveau, c'était une femme aux cheveux gris relativement courts et aux yeux bruns, la première un peu plus longue que la longueur réglementaire quand elle était au service. C'était aussi sa couleur naturelle des cheveux, même si elle était encore jeune. Jane ne savait pas pourquoi elle devait être le flocon de neige spécial parmi la plupart de ses camarades de classe au lycée et ses camarades Marines. La plupart des gens l'appelaient "Ashes" à cause de ses cheveux. Quant au reste, Jane était toujours en forme et en bonne santé physiquement. Jane a décidé d'arrêter de se fixer dans le miroir et de mettre le reste de ses vêtements; jeans, un T-shirt bleu, le gilet Kevlar qu'elle portait toujours, et sa veste Marine complète avec sa croix chrétienne, des étiquettes de chien et des bottes. Sa veste portait toujours son nom et le sergent chevrons, bien sûr. Après avoir pris un pain au miel et descendu de l'eau après une courte prière pour remercier le Seigneur pour la nourriture, Jane sentit le besoin d'aller dehors et de s'étirer les jambes. Jane s'empare de son sac à dos, jeton de ses jours de Marine, bourrant ses pièces M9, facilement assemblées, avec quelques magazines d'une valeur de munitions et mettant son couteau de combat dans une plus grande partie de sa veste, facile à atteindre mais ne rendant pas évident qu'elle était armée, et un kit d'outils. Non seulement elle savait que la ville était dangereuse par elle-même, mais elle ne se faisait pas confiance pour être ok sans une arme sur elle juste au cas où les événements tournaient vers le sud pour elle. Pour une raison quelconque, elle a ressenti le besoin d'aller dans une direction opposée aujourd'hui et donc quand elle a quitté son appartement et fermé la porte, elle est allée dans la direction opposée à l'endroit où le centre-ville était. Elle savait qu'il y avait un sentier naturel près de cette zone, et donc ce pourrait être un bon endroit pour vérifier. Pendant qu'elle se dirigeait vers le sentier de la nature, Jane a repéré quelques personnes qui allaient dans un immeuble de bureaux. Elle a juré que deux d'entre eux avaient l'air d'être sortis pour une occasion occasionnelle, pas un environnement de bureau. Elle savait qu'il faisait froid, mais ce n'était pas si froid. Pourtant, ce n'est pas ce qui a permis à Jane de rester dans l'immeuble pour le moment. C'était l'homme qui était assis juste en face de l'immeuble. Qu'est-ce qu'il y a dans les flammes? Jane a décidé de l'observer un moment. Il... se tapait sur quelque chose. C'était une sorte de clochard? Pas d'attente... cette radio. Jane ne pouvait pas mettre son doigt sur ce qu'était la marque et le modèle de la radio, mais elle était très sûre que c'était un type d'émission dans le Corps. C'est alors que Jane a décidé de s'approcher du clodo, car c'était intéressant. Elle s'arrêta à quelques pieds de l'homme, s'approchant de son côté où il pouvait la voir. Jane a croisé les bras, mis un peu de poids sur sa jambe droite légèrement maigre, et a demandé instinctivement en anglais, bien qu'elle connaissait le japonais grâce à Rosetta Stone. La technologie était merveilleuse, après tout. "C'est une radio du Corps des Marines, n'est-ce pas? Où as-tu eu ça?"

Name: Jane Kelly Age: 22 Former Race: Race: Human Card: Notable Skill's: Discipline- Jane Kelly has discipline and knows how to follow orders well. Firearms proficiency- Kelly is proficient in most firearms, most notably assault rifles and handguns. She was officially qualified for use of the M9 service pistol and the M4A1 when she was in the Marines. Tactical Assessment- Jane knows how to look at a situation and give a tactical assessment, adjusting accordingly and changing tactics if necessary. Assaultman- Jane served as an Assaultman for a portion of her tour. This means she is experienced in demolitions and the disarmament of explosives as well as the use of anti-tank weapons. Holy Sacraments: Equipment: M9 Service Pistol(Disassembled where needed) with 5 15-shot magazines, Combat knife, Kevlar vest worn underneath her jacket, Military backpack on her person. Sacred Gear: Armor of Retribution: The user of this sacred gear allows the wearer to magically don the armor that most represents them. No matter what kind of armor this is represented as, the wearer gains considerable defense, agility and attack capabilities while the armor is present. Any weapons used in lieu of this armor have increased effectiveness. However, despite its durability if the armor breaks without the user's will the user falls into a helpless stupor. Magic: Personality: Jane Kelly was once a Marine, and thus in her eyes anyone who was in the Marines are always a Marine. Therefore, Kelly has a high sense of camaraderie. Once more, Kelly is a devout follower of Christ, though not to the point of being overbearing. Kelly is willing to put herself into danger if it meant saving another's life though acknowledges that she cannot get herself killed in the process or the act would be moot. Kelly can sometimes be a lateral thinker, sometimes having unorthodox methods to solving a problem though this is not always the case. Jane has been a prisoner of war before and despises leaving anyone behind to be captured. History: Jane Kelly was born in the United States of America, where she lived in a farming community. Her father was that of a former Marine and her mother a country bumpkin turned officer worker. That being said, it was not her parents that turned Kelly into a devout Christian but her grandparents. They always took her to church every Sunday, read her the bible, and even encouraged her to perform in plays about Christ. While going through public school, Jane's grades were decently within the B and A range. While she could have gone through any field she wanted to, Jane instead decided to follow what her father has done and join the Marines at the age of 17. In the Marines, Jane went through the basic training like everyone else, though she noticed all of the debauchery that commonly happened in the Marines. Instead of partaking in it, Jane was one to avoid the worse of it due to her faith. During her tour Jane rose through the ranks as infantry until she reached the rank of corporal, then on her last two years of service she became an Assaultman, spending her last year as a sergeant. In her last year, while clearing an area for landmines and IEDs Jane's squad got ambushed and captured by Islamic extremists. Though her squad was soon split apart, Jane was sent to a makeshift prison facility where she was tortured. Even to this day, Jane could not describe the pain that she had to endure. Jane watched as her comrades were tortured one by one, with herself not able to do anything about it, and then killed right in front of her eyes. Even when she was not done grieving, they still made her go through that pain over and over again. After two weeks, Jane was near her limit with only her devotion to Christ keeping her from breaking when Marine Force Recon raided the location, setting Jane and the survivors of her squad free. To Jane, this meant God did not forsake her and her devotion to the Lord only grew. Still, Jane was broken enough by the harrowing event that when her time came to end her tour, she did so. Though these people were bad, she forgave them for they were ignorant of the Lord. Now, Jane goes on to travel after her tour was finished, visiting different locations each time though always armed just in case events go south. Other: Jane is an avid gun-lover and keeps a collection in her home. She also has an automatic firearms license.

Doux, ennuyeux, et globalement pas très positif était comment un ange particulièrement dur a commencé son matin. Dentifrice, et avoir à écouter un appel à propos d'une dame qui a besoin de son fils pour confesser ses péchés de...masturbation... Qu'est-ce qui n'allait pas chez les gens de nos jours? Quoi qu'il en soit, il était assez irrité à la façon dont il a commencé sa journée, et a choisi de faire son activité préférée en convenant à un Ange dans la position de services au peuple; obtenir vengeance sur les agresseurs et extorsionnistes. Il s'assurerait au moins d'avoir un peu de plaisir avec elle, après s'être habillé dans son costume gris tabassé préféré, sans cravate pour aller avec. Certaines modes ne sortent jamais du style pour certaines personnes... surtout les ex-criminels. Quelques contre-attaques plus tard, et il commençait à se sentir un peu satisfait, en comptant l'argent sans aucun doute sale en sa possession. Naturellement, le patron aurait tout aller à des organismes de bienfaisance ou pour le bénéfice de leur petit groupe, mais il y avait juste quelque chose d'humain inhérent à avoir une grosse masse d'argent dans vos mains et de basculer à travers elle. Essuyant une ligne de sang du côté de sa bouche d'un grand coup de poing de l'un des durs de la rue, Suisei a pensé que c'était maintenant le bon moment pour se diriger vers le dos. C'était comme... dix, mais qui n'aime pas le brunch? Malgré la quantité de merde qu'il donnait souvent aux autres membres des Saints, il semblait y avoir une attention croissante aux détails dans la nourriture qu'il apportait étant exactement comme ils l'aimaient. Pas d'oignon, pas de tomate, pas de confiture au lieu de sirop, il était terriblement réfléchi dans ses ordres... Même s'ils n'avaient pas faim ou ne voulaient pas, il leur donnerait probablement plus de merde. Payant avec une bande d'argent libéré, Suisei a attaché le brunch à emporter sur le dos de son Sacred Gear, heureusement assez juste comme une moto badass. Des dîners comme ceux-ci étaient une race mourante, surtout ceux qui ont servi un si bon petit déjeuner, et comme tel Suisei a senti qu'ils méritaient un peu de la richesse. De retour dans l'immeuble avec ses bras pleins de nourriture, il commençait à le faire passer, c'était le dernier là-dedans. "D'accord, voilà Alice...Schwarmentitle...Surial...Alex...Chris...Haruna... il a dit, ayant une expression assez neutre comme il a passé la nourriture, avant de briller à Teshiko. Il n'avait pas caché qu'il n'était pas le plus grand fan d'elle en raison de son retour soudain à leur côté, mais il a fait de son mieux pour ne pas essayer de s'envoler de la poignée à chaque fois qu'il la voyait. "...Oyakodon. Amusez-vous bien." Il a dit, probablement résister à la tentation de la jeter dans son visage alors qu'il la poussait dans ses bras, en allant s'asseoir avec son propre bol de bœuf. "Je ne savais pas ce que tu voulais Boss, alors je t'ai acheté une omelette avec les œuvres. Oh, et nous avons reçu un don très généreux d'un gentil gentlemen que j'ai rencontré dans la rue. Des gars très gentils." il a dit, en prenant la somme restante de l'argent de sa poche de pantalon et en la mettant dans un grand bocal en verre qui avait: "Donations" écrit en hiragana sur une note collante. En laissant le bocal tout seul, il reprit à boire sa nourriture. Je ne pouvais pas m'entraîner sur un estomac vide.

Name: Suisei Shinoda Age: 23 Former Race: Human Race: Reincarnated Angel (4 Wings) Card: 8 of Spades Notable Skills: Beating shit up real good: Suisei is a savant of violence, and as such if you need him to rough someone up, he's usually the best for that kinda stuff. Hey, its a talent to figure out how to destroy a car with just a bat. Hell of a throwing arm: Little League did Suisei wonders, and with his newfound angelic strength, he can clock in a fastball at roughly 200 KM/h. Even more if he uses a bat to swing at it. Voice of an Angel: Bizarrely enough, Suisei has a rather amazing singing voice, being able to effectively fill a room with it. He has the kind of voice that someone could carry over an entire baseball stadium in leading the national anthem alone, but if you ever bring it up he might deck you. He's sensitive about it. Detonating Light Constructs: Technically the most useful skill he has stemming from his lessons under Camael, Suisei is capable of making any light construct he makes detonate at will. Driving: What? Its a skill! Holy Sacraments: None Equipment: These Hands. And a driver's license. Sacred Gear: Holy Wings of Pegasus: Mount of Bellerophontes: The wings of the horse that carried the man who defeated the original Chimera takes the form of a motorcycle designed for a single person, shining in the sunlight as it carries its user. The maximum speed that the bike is capable of reaching is 1600 KM/h, and as such is nearly impossible to control once it reaches its maximum. As such, you'll rarely see Suisei approach anywhere near that speed, but were he to try and crash into someone with Pegasus that fast, he'd kill himself in the process. While not possessing the ability to fly, these grounded wings are capable of flawlessly performing on nearly any terrain, save for heavily rain slicked roads. In addition, the bike is capable of driving vertically up objects, offering Suisei far more mobility to go with its speed. While the bike can be summoned and un-summoned at will, the actual process takes three full minutes, and the bike will automatically begin to deconstruct itself after Suisei has gone out of an immediate vicinity of 300 feet from it. Balance Breaker: Carrier of Lightning: A non-combat Balance Breaker that arguably completely neuters Pegasus when active, that greatly expands its mass and reduce its speed to that of a normal land vehicle specifically the one that it takes the shape of; A massive, pure white limousine built to carry up to 16 people. The interior is incredibly spacious and comfortable, looking like something that a movie star would ride in. Full leather upholstery, an A/C system that ensures that its always comfortable inside for the passengers. This state can only persist for as long as Suisei is in the driver seat, as the minute he gets out, every passenger will be ejected and "Spat Out" by the car, before it deconstructs completely. This Balance Breaker was literally achieved due to a sole incident where Camael was nearly hit by a car while walking. Of course, that wouldn't hurt him...but Suisei worried for his safety SO GREATLY that now he refuses to let him go anywhere without Carrier of Lightning. Magic: Basic Angelic Light Projection, as well as Overloaded Light Projections Personality: Suisei is, put bluntly, one rude motherfucker. He doesn't care for formalities for those under him, only seeming to offer much respect to the boss and those above him in rank. Even so, just because he's rude to you doesn't mean he hates you. In fact, he actually tends to try and look out for the other Brave Saints where he can, often checking up on them without letting them know. Brash, abrasive, and as crude as oil, Suisei is hard to get along with, even moreso if you're not especially "Brave" for a saint. Still, he's more interested in making sure that the members of the Saints are safe and growing well enough to be useful, and is more than willing to stick his neck out for a subordinate and even fight to the death for them. That's just the kind of loyalty he offers, whether someone returns it or not. That being said, betrayal is something that he deems worthy of death depending on the severity. He's also...kind of an idiot. Battle strategies from him mostly consist of: "Hitting them in the fucking face until they stop getting up" or "Just hit them in the gut harder until they stop getting up". Even so, you can expect him to follow through to the letter on a plan that either the boss or someone else comes up with that makes sense to him. He's a fighter, not a thinker. History: One would logically wonder why such a huge asshole and obvious ne'er-do-well is doing as an agent of god. One would also wonder why Suisei hates to talk about it so much. While dying and coming back to life is a big deal for a ton of people, for Suisei it was almost a second form of punishment. Having been born into a family deeply integrated into the criminal underbelly, joining up with a strong Yakuza clan was simply a part of his life that happened. Went to school, made friends, graduated, and then went to busting people's heads over counters for protection money. Extortion, fraud, blackmail, trafficking, vandalism, Suisei really was the scum of the earth, and at only twenty. Two years of criminal activity and he find that loyalty to the darkest levels of zaibatsus is paid in blood, and for one as devotedly loyal as Suisei, one particular criminal head gave him a promotion to Lieutenant...under the condition that he eliminate a rival head. Of course, Suisei departed and planned to bomb his car without hesitation. Even if murder was murder, the fact of the matter was that the crime boss he was to assassinate was scum just like he was. That's just the kind of world they lived in. Of course, all that thinking and planning came to a halt once it came time to detonate the car on a Sunday afternoon...a young girl and a loving wife both in the car with a man who'd committed crimes far worse than Suisei. Probably broken up families, torn apart dreams...but man, if there was one thing Suisei never thought he'd lack, it'd be a reason to hurt someone else. For all intents and purposes, the two civilians were like a giant red flag to him, and as such he failed to carry out his orders. Fearing for their lives, Suisei purposefully crashed a nearby bike into the car, all with the intent to stop it and reveal the assassination plot. He was listened to, surprisingly, albeit at gunpoint. Returning with his mission sabotaged by himself, Suisei felt the seething kind of disappointment that came from a boss who's worker had spat in his face. Having offered to take his own life as recompense, he was denied any form of quick mercy compared to what was ordered to be done to him. Seven months in a dark room far beneath a parking complex, his pinkie fingers severed for cutting his loyalties, his liver shot full of experimental medicinal poisons, one of his kidneys and one of his lungs taken to be sold, and emaciated beyond being recognizable as anything close to living, Suisei survived and lived to his last breath, a man sold to his own ideals rather than somebody else's. At his darkest moment, when death stared him in the face however, he saw not a grim reaper but an angel. An angel that had need of someone willing to defy the evil within themselves to do something that was right. As for Suisei...he just needed someone to buy him some damn food and a wrap of bandages. Having endured hell on earth and being an agent of a devil, rose above it all and became an Angel. And then he sure as FUCK went to knock some skulls in. What? Revenge isn't a sin if you ARE the act of god! Other: Theme Song

Johannes Interagir avec:,, -- Quoi, vous n'avez rien apporté pour moi? Johannes a dit avec déception qu'il s'est endormi dans la chambre, sirotant une boîte de café glacé. Il a craqué fort et jeté la boîte écrasée dans une poubelle de l'autre côté de la pièce, marquant un coup de jante parfait qui a fait tourner un peu la boîte de métal. Yawning, il s'est approché et a mis un bras sur l'épaule de l'ancien conducteur de Yakuza. "C'est froid, mec. Très froid. En fait, j'ai presque envie de pleurer », a-t-il dit à travers de faux sobs et de grosses larmes de crocodile. "Je-En fait, je pense *sniff* la seule façon pour vous de me rattraper est de m'acheter un grand bol de bœuf après l'entraînement. Alors peut-être que je pourrais arrêter... ces larmes! Grinning, il a immédiatement laissé aller juste à temps pour éviter la grève de représailles qu'il savait venir, en reculant pour se tenir à sa précieuse Lady Schwertleite et donner à Suisei une framboise amicale. Bien sûr qu'il savait que c'était la journée de l'entraînement aujourd'hui. Mardi. Son jour préféré de la semaine. Les mardis signifiait non seulement qu'il pouvait se battre avec les autres autant qu'il le voulait (toujours amusant, surtout quand Suisei était son adversaire), mais il pouvait regarder les deux personnes qu'il respectait le plus, Schwertleite et Camael, en action. Ils étaient les deux seules personnes ici qu'il (malgré) reconnu comme étant de meilleurs combattants que lui-même, et leurs combats ont toujours été une joie de voir pour un maniaque de bataille comme Johannes, le Viking du XXIe siècle. Et bien sûr, c'était mardi, c'était toute la raison pour laquelle il avait besoin de ranimer Suisei à si tôt le matin. Il voulait une bonne bagarre après tout, et Suisei n'était pas au top de son match à moins qu'il ne soit vraiment énervé. C'était quelque chose que Johannes ne comprenait pas tout à fait, mais les yakuzas ne semblaient pas partager l'enthousiasme amical qu'il avait pour le vol des poings. Violents comme les yakuzas pouvaient l'être, ils avaient toujours besoin d'une raison de se battre, comme si le frisson de se battre n'était pas déjà suffisant d'une raison. Et être en colère était généralement assez bon pour les satisfaire. "Camael, quand les matchs vont-ils commencer?" Il demanda impatiemment, sachant bien qu'il était le dernier à arriver. "Tu ne vas pas encore choisir les noms d'un chapeau, n'est-ce pas?"

Name: Johannes Johnson (real name "Jönsson", but anglicized for their move to Scotland) Age: 18 Gender: Male Former Race: Human/Berserker Race: Angel/Berserker (4 wings) Card: Joker Notable Skills: A descendant of the ancient Nordic warriors known as Vikings, Johannes is one of the rare few who have retained the honored berserker blood even into the modern age. A genetic condition, Johannes' lineage makes him susceptible to snap fits of anger, violence and altered behavior, and he often enters a trancelike state when fighting where he is either immune to pain, or perhaps more disturbingly, pleased by it. This diluted blood alone would not be cause for the superhuman abilities he displays that make him a rival for even his greatest ancestors, but combined with his Sacred Gear, even this modern-day Viking can wield the power of the ancients. Unsurprisingly, Johannes likes to get into fights. Who knew? Surprisingly, the Viking brute Johannes is a talented groomer and hairstylist, well-practiced in the methods for cutting, styling, and maintaining smooth, healthy hair. He even keeps a small bag of different combs and a pair of scissors on him at all times for just this purpose. It's hardly a useful skill in battle, but it helps keep everyone comfortable during prolonged stays in the human world. Holy Sacrament: None Sacred Gear: A Sub-Species of the otherwise incredibly common Twice Critical, Johannes' variant shares the attribute of doubling his power, but does so in an inverse relationship to the damage he's both done and taken. An essentially agonistic power fueled by pain, this ability to "hamask" or transform into an altered state of "hamrammr", meaning "shapestrong", doubles Johannes' power not once, but again and again with every injury inflicted on either himself or the enemy, no matter how minor. He also bulks up in direct relation with the boost, becoming taller and gaining more and more muscle, to the point where his ancestors were said to look more like trolls than men. Coupled with his inherited Berserker blood, which allows him to enter a trancelike state where his muscles harden and he is immune to pain, Johannes' Sacred Gear turns into an incredibly powerful double-edged sword, essentially allowing him to increase his power indefinitely while driving him closer and closer to death, only to somehow recover each and every time. Even he wonders if this ability has limits, but having died once already, he doesn't let it bother him too much. The ability can be purposefully triggered by teammates, but for whatever reason, Johannes can't seem to trigger it just by harming himself, whether intentionally or unintentionally. Magic: None yet besides the angelic basics (flight, light projection, the gift of languages etc.), but he's learning. Personality: A regular modern-day Viking, Johannes is just as boisterous and just as short-tempered as his Nordic ancestors. Normally he's a soft-spoken goof, but he does a complete 180 when someone makes him mad and/or he undergoes his special "hamask" transformation, becoming both physically more imposing as well as a grandiose, overly dramatic warrior poet-type prone to violent fits of hair-trigger rage and unnecessarily fabulous posing. He also tends to be a bit too blunt and straightforward at times, and never particularly paid too much attention at school (though he is far from dumb). Due to both this oddly spontaneous nature of his and their past circumstances together, Johannes is infatuated with the former Valkyrie-turned-angel Schwertleite, and will protect her at all costs. As a matter of fact, he's already sacrificed his life for her once, and will not hesitate to do so again. Anyone who questions the legitimacy of his love for her... good luck. You'll need it. Other than insulting or attempting to hurt Schwertleite however, Johannes is oddly laid back, at least compared to what you'd expect from his reputation and lineage. More than happy to hang out, make merry, or charge into the gates of Valhalla arm in arm with you, Johannes is a valuable friend and ally to have for the warrior of God on the go. Just... don't make him angry. You wouldn't like him when he's angry. History: A Scottish immigrant with Viking ancestry, Johannes led a mostly unremarkable childhood of beating up neighborhood bullies and impolite adults inbetween going to school (to beat people up) and pining for the pretty older girl in the next town over; the one everyone claimed was a Valkyrie. Johannes loved the stories of his distant Nordic ancestors, especially the one about the great hero Sigfried and the valkyrie Brynhildr. It made him feel like he and the girl next door were meant to be, as childish as that might seem for a fourteen year old pining for a college student. He kept his distance because he was shy however, but one day, when he noticed a pillar of smoke coming from the village where the girl he liked lived, he finally found the courage to rush in and protect her. Johannes had always been a strong, bull-headed kid, so he wasn't expecting to encounter much trouble when arrived in town. He certainly wasn't expecting to find a horde of demons laying waste to the town, but he also wasn't about to give up. He ran to the girl's aide, and found her already in combat with the demonic legions. Turns out she was a valkyrie after all. Perhaps it was this knowledge that motivated him to dive headlong into a demon's blade to protect her, but whatever the reason, his sacrifice bought the valkyrie, Schwertleite, the opportunity she needed, and she finished the fight for him, carrying his body and soul with her off the battlefield. When he awoke, Johannes was faced with both Schwertleite and an angel who introduced himself as Camael, as well as a decision that would shape the rest of his life. Would he like to pass peacefully into the next life of his choosing, be it Heaven or Valhalla, or would he like to enlist with Camael and become an angel, a warrior of God? The path would be fraught with danger and violence, and he would almost certainly be called on to sacrifice his life again, Camael explained, except next time he wouldn't come back. Schwertleite had already made her choice to join. Now it was his turn to decide. The offer was open as long as Camael was here recruiting people to his outfit, and he'd both seen and appreciated Johannes' seemingly manic power. Johannes' answer was a simple one. "When do I start?" Other: He doesn't particularly care if he worships God or Odin, as he was raised agnostic but had equal exposure to both due to his family history and the high density of Catholics in his childhood home of Scotland.

- Des schwertélites. Au moment où Suisei a mal prononcé son nom, la Valkyire n'a pu rire qu'en acceptant la nourriture. "Tu sais, si tu as du mal à prononcer mon nom, tu peux juste m'appeler "Queen"." La Valkyrie agita avec un sourire, se référant à la carte qu'elle représentait au Peerage. Schwertleite était le nom que sa mère lui avait donné - et était le nom qu'elle avait toujours passé à Valhalla, mais elle a réalisé que ce nom était un peu difficile à prononcer pour d'autres personnes. Surtout les humains. "Merci pour le café, Akemi." Elle a donné à l'autre ange un clin d'œil amical, prenant la coupe et en prenant une longue perruque. Pas aussi bon que le goût sucré et sucré de l'alcool, mais Cofé était encore bon. Maintenant, la question des allumettes d'entraînement... "Qu'est-ce qu'il y a, Johannes? Peur que tu vas perdre au chapeau?" Elle s'est moquée de son amie viking. "Ou j'ai peur que tu te fasses égaler avec moi et je vais te botter les fesses plus fort que la dernière fois?"

Name: Isobel 'Schwertleite' Sinnot Most angels simply call her Schwertleite, and is her preferred name. Age: 23 Former Race: Half-Valkyrie (Father was a human, that is.) Race: Angel, four Wings Card: Queen of Spades (because I deserve both queens since I am that fabulous) Notable Skill's: - Swordsmanship. Schwertleite has been trained by father since she could hold a sword to wield one, and to say she is no slouch is a bit of an understatement. While she perhaps lacks the sheer physical strength certain other angels, demons, and other beings may possess, she more than makes up for it with her magical ability and agility. - Educated. Likewise, her parents spared no expense in her education. She considers herself to be fairly educated in both the realms of the supernatural as well as on earthly topics. That said, she does have very little interaction with humans and human items and technologies and can often get distracted by shiny new earth things. - Flight. Like all Angels, she is capable of flight and has been shown to be fairly agile and dexterous with her wings. While perhaps not possessing sheer speed as some might, she is nothing if not an acrobat. - Surprisingly, she likes to relax by drawing and considers herself to be a bit of an artist. One can often find her sketching landscapes or other members of her peerage stealthily if she can manage it. Holy Sacraments: Fragarach: The Answerer, The Retaliator. A Legendary sword of Ireland, forged by the Gods and used by many of its heroes - Notably Lugh Lamfada, Cuchuulain, and Conn of the Hundred Battles. It was passed down in Schwertleite's family until it was finally bestowed upon her. The sword itself glimmers with a pale blue light, with a gold hilt and blue blade and is fairly elegant in construction. As a holy sword, the weapon is highly effective against demons and grants the wielder a rather unique set of abilities. When held against a person's throat, they cannot speak a lie and will find moving difficult. By channeling ones magic through it, one is able to channel the wind, and the blade is sharp and can cut through any normal metals with relative ease. Schwertleite's proficiency with the swords more supernatural elements unfortunately leaves much to be desired. While she is skilled with it she still has a long way to go before being anywhere near the level of the swords previous owners. Equipment: The armored robes she wears, but nothing else much really. Sacred Gear: N/A Magic: As a Valkyrie turned angel, Schwertleite possessed immense magical ability of her people and Asgard, and she tends to know this and has no lack of confidence in her abilities. - Light Projection: Like all angels, Schwertleite can use this to create practically anything she wants. Typically, she uses it for offensive purposes such as weapons. In her case, her favorite is a pole-arm of some sort for long-range engagements. If she has need for a boost in close range, she tends to make a second sword, or short spear for mid range engagements. - Ice Magic: Like her father taught her how to wield a sword, her mother taught her magic. She is highly proficient with ice-based magic thanks to her mother. While her mother was definitely proficient with multiple types of magic, Schwertleite has only so far been able to master Ice, thanks to also her focus on swordsmanship so she could inherit Fragarach. Plus, with her magic having Nordic roots her magic tends to be fairly effective against most targets. - Language: And of course, she like all angels possesses an inherent knowledge of any and all languages on earth. Personality The first thing one would observe in Schwertleite, is that she tends to be a fairly serious and studious person. And when I say serious, I mean serious in everything. The Valkyrie doesn't half-ass anything be it from studying, training, playing, or fighting. This can make people a bit intimidated by the tall, fairly well-built Gaelic girl. If one happens to meet her in the middle of training or studying, it could leave a fairly bad impression since she'll often be too focused on what she is doing to be friendly, and if interrupted she tends to get cranky. If working with comrades, she will expect the same level of seriousness. Work now, play later. If one meets her in her down time or while she's otherwise indulging in her more leisurely activities, one would find her fairly amicable and a bit of a sassy jokester. This seriousness also extends to battles and fights as well, and she can often get rather caught up in the moment and be rather competitive, and doesn't like others to interrupt her fights either - this can cause massive amounts of problems with her peerage, since she has trouble working together at times and often prefers to do things herself. One major character flaw, however, that any angel should be highly aware of - is her pride. She has a tendency to think fairly highly of her skills and abilities, and while she is friendly and doesn't put down other people's skills, any personal insult to her abilities won't be taken well and she strives to be the best at everything she does. She has a deep seated hatred of demons for killing her mother, and will never, under any circumstance co-operate with them, and would do anything to find the whereabouts of her missing father, though she fears the worst. History: Schwertleite's history would begin with a Valkyrie of dubious importance in the halls of Valhalla. She was a Valkyrie to be sure, and quite skilled at what she did but she was never anything special. Well, unless you count Odin pestering her constantly because he's a pervert, but that's not this story. This one is a rather simple story, really, and one that's not all that unheard of. Her mother fell in love with a human male. An Irishman with some pretty far reaching ancestry all the way back to the time of ancient heroes such as Lugh Lamfada and others. How'd they meet? Well, he just so happened to take a certain holy sword out one day for training and they happened upon each other and decided to see how exactly the other matched up. He may have been a human, but with that sword in his possession apparently he put up a pretty good fight against the Valkyrie. So the two eventually fell in love and blah blah kinky stuff happened blah blah and then Schwertleite was born. Schwertleite, unlike most other valkyries wasn't born as a half god, though she still possessed some such qualities that all Valkyries possessed...and she had a rather curious time growing up. Her father happened to be a fairly extremely devout christian, and her mother was obviously not. Growing up, she wasn't really sure what to believe a lot of the time, but at her mothers request she attended school in Valhalla and was taught there, as well as how to be a valkyrie. Thanks to her nature though, she was looked down upon quite a bit as being inferior. She didn't let it get to her - in fact she used it as a motivator to try and surpass all the other valkyries and she was pretty successful at it. Couple that with sword lessons from her father, she was well on her way to being a top-class valkyrie and when she graduated a few years early thanks to her skill and knowledge she spent a few years working in Valhalla for them. And then she turned 19. It was a normal day, in fact it was better than normal. Her father had decided she was both old enough and skilled enough to use the holy sword that his family had been entrusted too for generations. Only, things didn't go as planned. She doesn't remember much about what happened, but when her parents took her to let her use the sword it seems they weren't the only ones waiting. Her mother died, and her father went missing that day, after handing her the sword and telling her to run and not look back for even a second. After attempting to fight and almost dying in the process, she fled. It was the only time in her life she allowed herself to do such a thing, and has vowed never to run from any sort of demon or challenge ever again. When she went to Valhalla to seek help, they were surprisingly unresponsive, and since they had no idea who could have possibly done such a thing and they had almost no evidence to go on, she left, more than a little angry and told them she'd go find them herself...but how exactly would she do that? She never really put much faith in her fathers religion, and she had never actually met an angel before, so how could she find one? She had visited church with her father a few times before, but she had never really felt...at home there. If anything, she felt slightly out of place. Now though? Maybe if she did in fact pray hard enough an angel would answer. It seemed though, she didn't have to do even that. As soon as she walked into the church, she was greeted by an angel. He made her an offer, and she accepted. It's been about four years since then. Other: - Still has trouble using 'God' instead of 'Odin' at times. - Can easily get fascinated by human electronics. - During fights, Leite prefers to show no mercy and hit the foe hard, fast, and relentlessly. If engaged at range, she uses a mix of Ice magic and Light-weapon creation to bombard foes from afar. She is pretty accurate with dropping ice bergs on people, so to speak. If close to mid-range, she tends to blend swordsmanship and superior maneuverability with magic as the situation calls for it.

Alice accepta gracieusement le café offert dont elle avait encore l'esprit étourdi alors qu'elle prenait la première gorgée de son esprit lentement commencé à permettre aux engrenages de tourner, mais encore c'était un démarrage lent. Elle a toujours été l'une de celles qui ont pris des éternités pour se réveiller dans une situation non hostile. C'était quelque chose qui n'a pas changé avec le temps même son temps avec le père Gascoigne elle était comme cela. Elle était entérément reconnaissante de ne pas se tromper à la fois Camael et le bon père était cher à elle tous les deux l'a élevée au mieux qu'ils pouvaient et voulait le meilleur pour elle. Même si elle désapprouvait la nature de la guerre de Camael et les tactiques un peu malhonnêtes que le père Gascoigne employait dans ses chasses. Elle a souvent entendu d'autres comme Metatron et Sandalphon mentionner comment sa nature et tout ce qui était mieux adapté pour quelqu'un comme Gabriel que Camael encore le plan du seigneur était rarement compris que beaucoup était donné peu importe quoi. "Bonjour au reste d'entre vous." Alice a dit une fois de plus de retenir un bâilleur déjà en train de mettre sa tasse dehors pour une recharge. C'était jusqu'à ce que ses joues commencent à rougir alors qu'elle se rend enfin compte de l'état de la robe dans laquelle elle était. Pourtant, elle le supporterait avec un sourire montrant une faiblesse devant les autres était un refus qui était une chose qu'elle a apprise du père Gascoigne.

Name: Alice Gascoigne Age: 18 Former Race: Human Race: Angel (six wings) Card: Ace Notable Skills: Flight - A basic skill available to those who were reincarnated using the brave saint system Light projections - An angel's common ability often used to create light spears. Magic - Alice is highly proficient in magic. Holy Sacraments: Holy Shroud of Magdalene - The shroud of the holy maiden Mary Magdalene it grants protection against men wishing the owner harm and can bind them as long as they are not harmed in turn. As such those possessing a notably strong holy aura such as high ranking angels are able to bypass it. While bound any male is prevented from bringing upon self harm or injury. Equipment: Sacred Gear: N/A Magic: Sacred Arrows: A magic that creates a rain of arrows of light and magic upon the enemy it can be launched from above or in front of Alice. Tracking Stars: Stars that is able give the location of people by tracking their magical signature of the signature of it can be used to act as a beacon should it be attached to someone. Binding Stars: magic that takes the form of two stars that binds the enemy. Binding Ribbons: Similar in practice to her Binding stars though she is able to freely control the length and direction of the ribbons. Blades of light: Using swords of light it circles around Alice protecting her. She is freely able to launch them and or use them for close combat should the need arise. Starlight blast: Focused blasts of pure magical or holy energy. Requiem of Stars: A large devastating blast of magical energy its large size and destructive power makes it her strongest spell in her arsenal. Release of restraints: Due to her frail body a seal was placed upon her sealing her powers. Though by meeting certain conditions she can release increments of her true power allowing to her to let loose more power behind her attacks. The tattoo seals behind a large majority of her power that her body can safely handle. The more power released the seal changes to show less wings. As a result her magical power increase two fold each release. However her body can only handle it so long before it starts to do more harm than good. Personality: Alice is known to have a very bright and somewhat bubbly personality she is always seeing the good in humanity and what it can do as whole. Though she is not blind to how dark the world can be at times. She believes everyone no matter who has some potential of good in them and as such often seeks to a peaceful resolution before everything. History: Alice Gascoigne grew up in poor health a orphan who was taken in and raised by Father Gascoigne. It was through him and the church who took interest in the adopted daughter of one of their best exorcists they found out the problem. Her body was physically to weak to contain her immense magical power she carried. She was taken care of to best of his extent doing his best to keep her comfortable with how sickly she was. It wasn’t till a bit later her father managed to garner enough attention from the angels and at his request they sealed her power. From there she was trained to help the church in small doses as to not push her body. At age ten her father’s exploits and her own affliction garnered the attention of the heavenly body once more seeking to shelter her from devils who would wish to use her immense power for themselves. So at a young age she was turned into a angel to protect her from those that would seek to use her and in a attempt to help her since her health was starting to take a turn for the worse again. Camael answered the call turning the young girl ten years of age a second chance at life where she can live it more fully than if she was left alone. Her skill in magic and how she prefers to fight often led to her being known in supernatural circles as the “magical girl of heaven” In stark contrast of the devils Miracle Levia tan.

Interagir avec: De plus en plus de personnes sont arrivées, dont aucune n'est même en retard. La première était Alice. En voyant son choix de vêtements, qui n'était en fait que son pyjama, elle clignait une fois. Alice dormait toujours à moitié? "U-Um... Alice, tu veux une tasse de café?" Ça va certainement la réveiller. Après tout, elle prenait habituellement sa tasse de café avant toute autre chose. Oh et le petit déjeuner bien sûr! Maintenant qu'elle y a pensé, elle ne l'a pas encore mangée. Il y aurait sûrement quelque chose dans la cuisine qu'ils pourraient manger. Peut-être qu'elle pourrait faire quelque chose pour elle. Le suivant à venir était Christoffer, ou Chris... elle préférait ce dernier parce que c'était plus facile à dire. Même avec ses compétences linguistiques avancées qui ont été acquises à partir d'être un ange, elle ne se sentait toujours pas à la hauteur quand il s'agissait de noms étrangers. Elle était tellement habituée à avoir des Japonais autour d'elle que l'augmentation soudaine d'étrangers autour d'elle l'a choquée. Elle n'a été relevée de cet afflux soudain que par l'apparition de Suisei et Teshiko, mais plus de l'ancien comme Teshiko n'était pas exactement japonais pour commencer. De toute façon, Chris était parti à propos de la sécurité de son bureau, en mentionnant quelque chose à propos d'une personne à leur entrée. C'était bizarre. Elle n'avait pas vu cette personne quand elle est entrée. "Je ne pense pas qu'il y ait... un problème avec notre sécurité. La magie est quelque chose que nous ne pouvons pas voir complètement après tout. Je suis sûr que les défenses ici sont plus puissantes que vous ne le pensez." C'était ses deux cents sur la question. Pour soutenir cela, Alexandre était apparu et s'était positionné à côté d'Alice. Il a fait une remarque sur le fait de ne pas sous-estimer les défenses mises en place. Akemi semblait rétrécir sur son apparence. Il n'y avait que tant de gens qu'elle trouvait à l'aise d'être ici, et ne pas être menacé par la quantité de pouvoir qu'ils possèdent. Alexander n'était certainement pas l'un d'entre eux. Cependant, elle apprécie sa légèreté générale. Elle s'inclina devant lui comme sa salutation. Voyant que les gens commençaient à entrer, elle a pensé qu'elle devrait commencer à faire ce café. Il y en avait dix. J'espère qu'au moment où ils arriveront tous, elle en aura fini avec le café. Avant de pouvoir se déplacer de son endroit pour aller à la kitchenette, Schwertleite était arrivée. Maintenant, il y avait un nom qu'elle ne pouvait jamais espérer dire correctement. "C'était bien. Bonjour à vous aussi." Avant que quelqu'un d'autre ne puisse entrer, elle se retourna et se dirigea vers la kitchenette. Elle a commencé à préparer le café et s'est penchée sur la table pendant qu'elle attendait. Elle a laissé sortir un soupir. Ça fait deux ans et elle ne peut toujours pas se soulager de ce bégaiement. Ils étaient tous amis, il n'y avait aucun doute à ce sujet, mais il y avait quelque chose en elle qui lui a dit de garder sa garde. Est-ce parce qu'elle connaissait déjà leurs capacités et qu'elle craignait cette partie d'entre eux? Ou était-ce quelque chose d'autre? Elle ne savait vraiment pas. Au moins, elle parle toujours plutôt normalement, au lieu d'être brouillée face à cinq ou plus d'étrangers. Une fois le café terminé, elle en versa un pour chacun d'eux et les plaça sur deux plateaux. Elle sourit intérieurement à elle-même. Eh bien, il est temps de mettre à profit l'entraînement de sa serveuse. Elle ramassa les deux plateaux, puis retourna à la salle principale. Quand elle est revenue, les autres étaient arrivés. Il y avait Sourial, Teshiko, Suisei et Johannes. C'était une bonne chose qu'elle ait décidé d'en obtenir un pour chacun d'eux. Ils ont aimé le café, n'est-ce pas? Ou est-ce que quelqu'un préfère le thé au café? Oh non, elle a oublié si quelqu'un avait des préférences. Elle regarda ensuite Suisei qui donnait le petit déjeuner pour tous. "Bonjour. C'est quelqu'un de café?" Elle a demandé, gesticulant pour qu'ils le prennent. Johannes a commencé à parler plus de l'entraînement et il était évidemment excité. Elle souhaitait que cette paix continue un peu plus. Tout pour retarder l'inévitable. Une fois que tout le monde a pris leur tasse de café, elle a obtenu l'Oyakodon. Elle a clignoté. Elle pouvait voir qu'il y avait du piment chaud aspergé sur celui-ci. Elle regarda Suisei et sourit, appréciant le soin qu'il prenait pour la commande. "Merci beaucoup, Suisei-san."

Name: Akemi Haruna Age: 18 Former Race: Human Race: Two-winged Angel Card: Two of Spades Notable Skills: - Cooking: This woman can cook practically anything in perfection. Mixing herbs into her cooking and still making it taste great is one of the main reasons this is something to be mentioned. - Flight: Like any other angel, she can utilize her wings to fly. However, she has shown that she is faster in the air than on the ground. She meticulously controls her flight which results to her able to fly fast and turn without a problem. - Herbalist: Because she was aiming to become a Biologist before she tragically died, she has a wide knowledge about many plants and their effects. She still uses this knowledge to help her fellows out. - Singing: Even before she was reincarnated as an angel, she already had a good and solid voice. She has a pretty wide pitch range. Unfortunately, she is too shy to show it off to anyone besides her family and boyfriend. Holy Sacraments: It is a magical ring with the power to cancel out magic and enchantments. It is placed on her right index finger. The ring is able to cancel all magic and enchantments of Brave Saints - does not work on pureblood angels or those that are too powerful - in an area. She is able to put a 'marker', which is essentially the center of the five meter radius where the magic/enchantments are negated, anywhere in her line of sight. Anyone in the radius would become unable to cast magic - friend and foe alike. This does not affect her. Equipment: Sacred Gear: N/A Magic: - Light Projection: Like all angels, she can create virtually anything with this power. The weaponry she creates are relatively weaker than most; however, her defensive constructs are nothing to laugh at. Her defensive constructs are pretty solid and is known that it could withstand a number of attacks. Song of the Angels: By singing a singular song, she is able to strengthen all aspects to all of her allies that are able to hear her. The song buffs up speed, agility, endurance, mental resistance, strength and numbs pain for the duration of the song. The moment she stops singing, the buff would completely disappear until she sings again. When she starts dodging while singing, the effects lessens but it is still there. However, when she uses other types of magic (excluding the sacracment's magic), she is unable to sing as she needs to concentrate on one magic completely (for now at least). To activate: Akemi recites the Lord's Prayer while kneeling and with her hands clasped together in a praying position. Once she finishes, the people around her must respond with 'Amen' and the buff is immediately administered. If they do not respond, the buff will not be administered to them. As she recites the second time around, she is freely able to move; however, it is better if she is stationary as moving dodging attacks lessens the effect. Also, the others do not need to respond. Only Angels may receive the buff - a demon or fallen angel responding would result to them feeling the physical pain of burning for the duration of the buff. - Language: Like all angels, she has the ability to talk in any language and understand it. She is especially thankful for this as this means she can read books written on other languages without a problem. Personality Akemi is a very insecure person who often is not sure if she can do it or not. It only takes a bit of convincing for her to try something out but even then she is a nervous wreck. She has a tendency to stutter. Insulting her is a great way to make her withdraw but encouraging her also bolsters her morale almost immediately. She is quite a nice person and is very helpful. She's a very good listener and tries to give good advices when possible. She has a bit of a problem with talking in front of many people. Her voice becomes a whisper and her thoughts jumble up. Thankfully, she is able to converse with members of the angelic peerage properly and has no problem with them. To others, however... well, there lies the problem. Lately, she has been improving. History: Akemi doesn't have a very colorful background. In fact, it was very... bland and ordinary. She wasn't a very social person and her parents were always never home but she often spends time alone by reading books and fantasizing of a future far more grand than she can ever hope to achieve. She felt that being in the fictional world is better than anything else. Written words were always better than spoken ones for her. She had very few friends and even they sometimes forget about her. She doesn't have much of a presence after all. This never bothered her of course. She was more than happy to simply bury herself in books wherein no one would judge her. She won't have to make an effort to appeal to anyone. It was perfect. However, one day when she was sixteen, she met this man. He seemed like a nice man. His name? Kenji Callas. He helped her out when she was out in a garden naming plants. She then found out that he lived nearby. Ever since then, she'd been meeting him more and more frequently and they've had some in depth talk. He was the first person to ever pull her out of her books. And the more she spent time with him, the more she felt like she was falling in love with him. After eight months, he confessed and she accepted. She didn't know she could have even felt this happy in all of her life. After all, she never expected she would ever find someone she could love romantically. That was the best year of her life. But all good things must come to an end. On a camping trip, a year after they became lovers, they were attacked. She wasn't sure what they were and she doesn't really remember all that much. She only has hazy memories of Kenji trying to protect her and then her dying. She thinks Kenji actually ran after the culprits. She was dying and she knew it. She was prepared to close her book. That was when he arrived. An angel of the heavens. She was resurrected into an angel herself. Camael was her savior. She didn't understand it for a while but finally got a hang of it. It has been two and a half years since then.

Alexandre bâillait fort alors qu'il décidait finalement de quitter le confort de ses couvertures, le manque évident d'enthousiasme dans son visage alors qu'il se levait et étirait les bras indiquant que l'acte de quitter son lit était considérablement dérangeant pour lui. Dès qu'il a réussi à se mettre dans ses pieds, il a immédiatement déplacé sa main droite vers le cintre apparemment flottant en dehors de son lit, tirant le manteau maladroitement pendu dedans et le mettant dans un mouvement si ridiculement rapide qui a clairement démontré combien il était familier avec le fait qu'il a essayé de se protéger rapidement de l'environnement froid de l'espace indépendant qu'il a utilisé comme chambre à coucher - quelque chose qu'il s'est installé en raison de son amour d'être chaudement habillé dans un environnement froid - et a rapidement fixé ses cheveux comme une préparation mineure à l'arrivée terrible jour. Il n'a même pas pris la peine de se baigner ou autre chose comme ça, car il n'était pas vraiment impur de commencer par et, sachant que le séraphin qu'il considérait comme un vieil ami, Camael ferait de lui une partie de l'entraînement et, par conséquent, transformerait toute tentative de se ranger en un effort gaspillé, en choisissant de maintenir ses vêtements décontractés - une chemise grise à manches larges et de style blanc semblable - et le manteau blanc qu'il venait récemment de privilégier au lieu de sa tenue habituelle. Une fois de plus, il bâillait alors qu'il inspectait correctement l'espace autour du bâtiment - une mesure rapide qu'il prenait uniquement pour le confort, comme les sigils qu'il plaçait dans le bâtiment l'avertiraient si quelque chose d'inhabituel se passait - rejetant rapidement le sort car il remarquait que rien de spécial ne se passait, avec la seule chose inhabituelle étant le charognard habituel - un homme qu'il découvrait d'une certaine façon amusant en raison de ses tendances à chercher leurs déchets en dépit de l'apparence saine, montrant aucun signe de faire cela pour la nourriture ou le profit - était apparemment plus catégorique à essayer de faire sens hors du bâtiment, un acte innocent qu'il n'avait pas envie de reprocher. Au lieu de cela, il se sentait plus tenté d'embrouiller avec un jeune particulier qui osait critiquer à haute voix ses défenses soigneusement fixées sans même savoir comment elles fonctionnaient - tout ce qui était dangereux à faire lorsque l'ensemble du bâtiment était sous la protection de sigil soigneusement mis façonné par Alexandre. Il a immédiatement ouvert une petite déchirure dans le « mur » de l'espace indépendant lié au bâtiment, faisant silencieusement son chemin à travers celui-ci vers le petit groupe rassemblé dans le hall - ce qui a provoqué l'ouverture d'une déchirure similaire là. "Bonjour, tout le monde." Il a dit, en décidant de paraître directement en dehors d'Alice principalement comme une commodité, car il lui a donné l'occasion de faire le désordre de ses cheveux déshabillés par l'acte commode de patter sa tête - espérons l'illuminer sur la façon dont elle a oublié de fixer ses cheveux de lit - avant qu'il affronte Chris, orientant ses premiers mots dans la journée à l'ancien policier. "Qu'est-ce qu'il y a de mal à s'inquiéter, Christoffer. Ce n'était pas censé être une compétition." Il a dit, trouver l'attitude de la jeunesse d'une manière ou d'une autre excessive. "En plus, vous êtes le second à arriver. Alice vit ici, elle n'avait pas besoin d'arriver pour commencer." Il continua, s'arrêtant une fois de plus à taper les cheveux mous de la jeune fille à côté de lui avant qu'il ne tourne encore une fois son regard pour faire face au garçon pendant que ses yeux se aiguisent."Avant d'oublier, évitez de critiquer les défenses du bâtiment si vous ne savez pas comment elles fonctionnent. Cela me rend tenté de vous faire tester les mesures défensives avec votre propre corps." Il a fini, la lueur aiguë dans ses yeux disparaissant instantanément alors qu'il se livrait à la douce sensation transmise à sa main droite alors qu'il tapait les cheveux d'Alice, ce qui l'a fait revenir à son acte ordinaire insouciant.

Name: Alexander Weiss Age: Chronologically 527; Biologically 21 (Angel for 7 years) Former Race: Human (Magician) Race: Six Winged Angel Card: Jack of Spades Notable Skills: Master Magician: Alexander is known for having a passion for unraveling the mysteries of the supernatural world and is recognized as an extremely talented individual when it comes to doing so through magic, having mastered at least four kinds of magic and having some knowledge about an absurd number of magic forms. Abnormally Knowledgeable: Being quite the old talented individual and having a natural craving from knowledge, Alexander has naturally amassed an abnormally high amount of knowledge about the most diversified fields through his life. Expert Marksman: Due to previous interests, Alexander has trained his marksmanship to a certain extent, being proficient with guns to an extent that he defined as " merely comparable to an elite soldier in a sharpshooter infantry regiment". Flight: As an angel, he obviously can use his wings to fly and appears to be mildly skilled in doing so. Capable Cold Weapon Wielder: Due to previous interests, Alexander is capable of handling quite a few variations of cold weapons to an acceptable extent. Master hand-to-hand combatant: Due to previous interests, Alexander is quite the capable martial artist, being skilled in self-defense techniques to the extent of being called a master by human standards. Talented Musician: Alexander is known to have a high proficiency in at least 7 kinds of musical instruments, being regarded as a genius in the field before he got bored of it. Master Physician: Being personally talented in this field and having centuries of practice, Alexander is naturally quite the skilled physician, having access to multiple unique forms of healing ranging from the standard methods to those more mythical in nature. Recognized Polymath: Alexander is recognized as a polymath: A genius that transcend the concept of fields and is naturally capable of learning and mastering anything that he shows interest in given enough time. Holy Sacraments: N/A Equipment: Grimoires: Alexander is known for being quite the avid researcher of the supernatural field and, as such, he is said to posses quite a few famous grimoires in his arsenal. "Simple Ring": A common ring linked to a minor independent space through spatial magic, often used as a storage. Sacred Gear: N/A Magic: Alchemy: One of Alexander's four mastered forms of magic, Alchemy is the ancient metaphysical science/mystical art of manipulating and altering matter by using natural energy. This act is known as "Transmutation" and its sequence is usually described as: Comprehension - Understanding the inherent structure and properties of the atomic or molecular makeup of a particular material to be transmuted, including the flow and balance of potential and kinetic energy within. Deconstruction - Using energy to break down the physical structure of the identified material into a more malleable state so as to be easily reshaped into a new form. Reconstruction - Continuing the flow of energy so as to reform the material into a new shape. The mystical practice of alchemy to create objects out of raw matter or turn one object into another is widely believed to be capable of anything - indeed alchemy is often viewed as magical or miraculous by those unfamiliar with the craft - but it is a science and as such is subject to certain laws and limitations, all of which fall under the concept of Equivalent Exchange: "In order to obtain or create something, something of equal value must be lost or destroyed." In standard practice, Equivalent Exchange is separated into two parts: The Law of Conservation of Mass, which states that energy and matter can neither be created from nothing nor destroyed to the point of elemental nonexistence. In other words, to create an object weighing one kilogram, at least one kilogram of material is necessary and destroying an object weighing one kilogram would reduce it to a set of parts, the sum of which would weigh one kilogram. The Law of Natural Providence, which states that an object or material made of a particular substance or element can only be transmuted into another object with the same basic makeup and properties of that initial material. In other words, an object or material made mostly of water can only be transmuted into another object with the attributes of water. Since the alchemical forces being manipulated are not human in origin, but of the world as a whole, the consequences for attempting to bypass the Law of Equivalent Exchange in transmutation are not merely failure and cessation. When too much is attempted out of too little, what occurs is called a Rebound, in which the alchemical forces that are thrown out of balance on either side of the equation fluctuate wildly of their own accord in order to stabilize themselves - taking or giving more than was intended in often unpredictable and catastrophic ways such as accidental mutation, serious injury, or death. While due to its nature as a form of science with general laws and limitations alchemy doesn't have proper "spells" as seen by other forms of magic, the effect of alchemy greatly varies according to the individual user, with lesser practioners having to rely on drawn transmutation circles and complex calculations to bring minor results. As a master, Alexander is capable of mentally calculating the correct formula and directly projecting the transmutation fields through his magic energy, making him able to effectively use minor alchemy instantaneously and take an overall reduced time to create complex machinery through the use of this mystical art. White Magic: Alexander's second mastered magic, his skill in white magic gives him the ability of making multiple kinds of barriers, wards and supportive spells capable of aiding him allies in battle. While this magic doesn't have any directly offensive ability, Alexander often makes use the repulsion quality of barriers to repel enemies. Hex-Break: An ancient form of white magic capable of breaking most of the common Hex and Curse spells. The cost of this spell seems to vary according to the targeted curse. Being another example of Alexander's "superb" naming sense, this spell is far from being as basic as the name denoted, being classified as an advanced spell capable of breaking even ancient curses previously thought to be unsolvable "Minor Ward": Alexander's twist of the classic ward spell, this overwhelming form of magic appears to be capable of shielding the target from most of the curses, hex, poison and black magic in general coming from someone under the ultimate class. No need to say that the name of this spell is another unfortunate result of Alexander's twisted naming sense. Befitting the true level of this spell, using it results in an overwhelming initial cost and a permanent decrease in the user's energy reserves. The permanent decrease in energy can be redirected to affect the target rather than the user. Barrier: Another unfortunate result of Alexander's twisted naming sense, this spell creates a white colored barrier around a predefined area, shielding it from any kind of damage. This spell comes in two specific forms: A temporary, user dependant shield for battles or a continuous, independent shield supplied by any energy source nearby to maintain its existence until being broken by some external influence. Rhymn of the Eternal Youth: An unique, life extending technique, this spell acts to directly affect the organism of its target, preventing the change of the organism and, theoretically, indefinitely stopping the ageing of the target for as long as the user supplies it with energy. Heal: Alexander's sole healing related spell, this technique relies on using magic to accelerate the natural regeneration of the target, thus accelerating the healing process. No need to say that doing so with wounds that need some specialized care may result in deformation of muscular tissue and malaligment of the bones. Black Magic: Alexander's third mastered kind of magic. While he currently cannot make use of his skills in this field due to his angelic constitution, Alexander is known to have theoretically mastered multiple forms of Hex and Curse based magic in the past. Currently Unavailable Spatial Magic: Alexander's fourth and last mastered form of magic, this advanced form of teleportation magic involves the manipulation of space itself, including but not restricted to creating alternate spaces, teleportation and the fundamental warping of space to a certain extent. Inventory: One of Alexander's favorite spells, this small trick relies on creating an independent miniature space linked to an item and using it for storage purposes. Mirror Space: An advanced application of spatial magic, this spell create a temporary alternate space mirroring the surroundings of the user. This spell is often stored in items for future use, a method that is mostly used because of the high energy cost of this specific spell, that makes it hard - if not impossible - to use during battles. Gate: A fairly common spell capable of bending space to link two different places, creating a gateway to the desired destination. Runic Magic: While Alexander isn't specially skilled in this field, he still has a fairly advanced knowledge about the use of both, Nordic and Celtic Runes to channel magic. Elemental Magic: While this isn't his field of expertise, Alexander is still able to use elemental magic to a reasonable extent, having a fairly extensive theoretical knowledge about this not-so-complicated form of magic. Norse Magic: While not especially proficient in this field, Alexander is capable of using Norse magic for reading the past and practicing foretelling to a certain extent - albeit hardly something useful for more than a few parlor tricks. Fairy Magic: While not especially knowledgeable in this field, Alexander is capable of using the glamour of the fae to effectively change his appearance and improve his charm to a certain extent. Light Projection: Having been an angel for quite a while, Alexander is capable of using the traditional light projection abilities of his species to a reasonable extent, being barely above the average for angels with the same number of wings. Personality: For those who see him during mission, Alexander is clearly an stern, overly serious individual without any especially expressive mannerisms and a tendency of lacking any expression in his face. He often acts in a calm, detached way and appears to be ridiculously cold and merciless, favouring efficience over useless blabbering and often acting in a machine-like way when making decisions, appearing to regard success as being above his comrades during his missions. Surprisingly, the same individual completely change when he's outside of missions, as he appears to be, in fact, an extremely carefree individual motivated by nothing other than his own sense of amusement and an amazing ability of attracting trouble to himself, being often seen as unpredictable and even crazy. In private, Alexander is known to be extremely easygoing, being able to easily interact with pretty much anyone as long as he feels that it would be interesting to do so and hardly showing anything that slightly resembles discomfort or awkwardness. He also appears to hardly hold the other party position as important, talking in the same informal way with anyone and hardly showing any special respect for someone - fact that is often show during his conversations with Camael, that he appears to consider as a personal friend. Above all, in despite of what is suggested by the behaviours he often assumes, Alexander is surprisingly sharp individual and possess an intelligence away higher than the norm, having quite the calculative side under all the irreverent behaviour and having a tendency of calculating every act that he takes, taking every single factor in regard before making any decision. In an even more contrasting way to his excessively friendly behaviour, Alexander hardly makes true bonds with people in despite of acting like everyone is his frind and holds the few people he considers as friends, together with himself, In the highest regard, being ridiculously loyal when it comes to his selected few. History: TBR Other: - He considers every single helicopter in existence as his property. - He's seemingly in love with pop culture, being quite the closet otaku and openly calling himself as a geek. - His ideal of beauty is seemingly based on the seraph Gabriel. Unsurprisingly, she appears to be one of the major targets of his flirting. - As a result of a certain occasion that happened in the past, he appears to be in love with Jeanne d'Arc... As a concept - considering that he is a century too young to have met the actual maiden of Orleans. - He may have be partially responsible for the French revolution. - While he isn't particularly against the appreciation of paintings, he has previously stated that he won't ever practice painting. - Due to the rebound of a failed spell, his left arm was mutated to a visible extent, having a somehow demonic composition and needing constant suppression to work correctly. - His true identity is Alexandro di ser Piero da Vinci, son of the famous polymath Leonardo da Vinci.

L'ange de la guerre Camaël Interagir avec Les gens commençaient lentement à arriver. Il était temps aussi. Camael aimait que les gens gardent la trace de l'époque. Il aimait aussi se battre, et peut-être avait-il passé la majorité de ses travaux d'hier à dessiner manuellement des pailles pour tout le monde jusqu'à ce qu'il trouve les paires nécessaires. Les paires qu'il avait écrites sur une petite note située dans la poche de son manteau de tranchée. Il était sûr de dire que certains d'entre eux étaient désorientés, mais autrement. Tout autour, ils semblaient assez parés pour le cours en considérant qu'ils allaient traiter avec un autre groupe d'anges. Il faut tenir compte de la lopacité des combats. Ce n'est qu'un des exemples de maîtrise du combat. Toujours. Il fallait répondre à la notion d'Akemis de vouloir préparer le thé. "Oui, Akemi, mon enfant. S'il vous plaît, si vous le voulez bien, vous pouvez nous faire du thé pour aller avec ce glorieux combat." Camael a dit en répondant à son 'Deux de Spades', certainement il ne l'avait pas rencontrée dans les meilleures conditions. Les anges tombés étaient certainement un problème et un fléau qu'il fallait effacer pour comprendre même la trahison de Dieu. Même après sa mort. Cela ne devrait que renforcer la conviction de maintenir le système des cieux intact. Alice est descendue, à laquelle Camael lui a répondu une salutation matinale avec une salutation similaire de sa propre. Voici son Ace une gâchette heureux laser tirant mage qu'il était la première personne qu'il avait fait un saint sous son régime. Elle comprenait les règles plus que la plupart. Elle en savait probablement plus sur ses faiblesses alors que n'importe qui d'autre. La combattre serait un vrai défi. Si ce n'était pas pour le fait qu'il savait que ce ne serait pas le cas parce qu'il a déjà trouvé les paires la nuit précédente. Chris était là. Oh tellement infaillible Chris. Le bâtiment a été à peu près bien défendu contre toute instrumentation démoniaque en raison des énergies qui ont trempé dans ses murs de la présence soutenue de Camaels. Alexandre d'autre part a géré tout ce qui pourrait oser entrer dans le sanctuaire sans permission. En parlant d'Alexandre, le vieil ami de Camael était là, enseignant l'erreur chris. Suriel était là aussi. Bien sûr, c'était deux autres à ajouter à la frénésie de gens toujours croissants Camael s'était rencontré puis ressuscité pour rejoindre son puits. L'armée. Pour le moins, il n'aurait personne d'autre. Ces gens ont travaillé dur pour arriver à ce point. Il continuerait à les faire travailler plus dur pour atteindre des hauteurs encore plus grandes. Si, pour le moins, il était assez compétitif pour vouloir que son groupe devienne le plus fort du ciel. Mais assez tôt. Il y a eu l'arrivée d'un autre plus controversé un de ses choix. Teshiko, c'était un ange tombé. Certainement. Mais son péché n'était pas lié à la guerre. Ce n'était pas quelque chose pour lequel il pouvait vraiment la rancuner. Elle n'a pas fui ses camarades. Elle n'est pas devenue une traîtresse. Elle a seulement oublié de prendre des précautions quand elle a eu des rapports sexuels avec quelqu'un qu'elle aimait. Ce n'était certainement rien à punir pour l'éternité. Camael espère qu'il aura une influence suffisamment positive sur elle pour l'empêcher de retomber et l'aider à se réconcilier avec ses erreurs passées. Bientôt l'un de ses pires et pourtant le meilleur choix. Suisei venant avec de la nourriture comme d'habitude était une belle touche. Tout le monde avait besoin de quelque chose à manger et ses mains sorties étaient prime pour être utile. "Merci pour l'omelette." Camael a dit indifférent. "Je vais le manger pendant mon observation des matchs aujourd'hui." Il a dit comme il l'a mis sur le côté donnant Suisei un sourire léger. Johannes étant le dernier à passer la porte. Il n'a jamais été aussi brouillé à l'avis de Camaels, même s'il n'était pas là pour parler. Camael a pris la scène centrale afin de s'adresser à tout le monde en tant que groupe. Il avait son aura d'autorité très présente avec son manteau de tranchée et son visage stoïque qui montrait des yeux qui avaient été endurcis par de nombreux siècles de bataille. "Grâce à tout le monde, maintenant que je crois que nous sommes tous ici, je crois que nous pouvons commencer l'entraînement. Aujourd'hui sera simple sur un match. Je crois qu'Alexandre pourra utiliser sa magie pour protéger l'intérieur du bâtiment. Afin d'éviter tout dommage concernant bien que je pense que nous devrions essayer de retenir les sorts de destruction massifs." Camael a dit de donner à Alice un regard très sévère de 'je sais ce que vous planifiez mais non je ne peux pas le permettre'. Un look de type. "Toute blessure après le match peut être couverte par les gens qui ne se battent pas. C'est-à-dire oui. Nous aurons de courtes pauses de récupération entre les combats. « Un match commence une fois que les deux anges ont défourné leurs ailes et qu'un match se termine une fois qu'un des côtés concède ou que l'ennemi est abattu pendant 10 secondes, ou que l'ennemi est inconscient. Il est permis de causer des blessures et des fractures osseuses. Bien que le match sera arrêté dans la faveur des gagnants si elle devient excessive, d'autres alors ce sera aussi honorable que vous vous sentez nécessaire." Camael a résumé la fin de son discours avant qu'il ne retire la note de sa poche. "Je parie que vous vous demandez qui vous battrez. Et bien. Les premiers matches sont... Alexander v Johannes et Teshiko v Miss Sinnot." Camael a dit point aux paires comme il l'a dit. "La prochaine paire de matchs est Chris v Surial et Alice v Akemi." Camael a dit de pointer vers la deuxième paire. "Ce qui laisse le dernier match de la journée..." Camael a dit pointer sur Suisei. "Moi-même et Suisei ici." Camael a dit avec un sourire vif. Cela allait certainement être un point fort de la journée. Bien sûr, il devrait se réserver à la force d'un ange à quatre ailes, mais cela a rendu le combat d'autant plus appétissant. Après tout, le combat a été le meilleur moyen de servir le Seigneur et de protéger les disciples de sa volonté divine.

Name: Camael/Camiel: The Angel of Strength, Courage and War. Nickname: Camy Age: N/A, he doesn't like to say. Though to put it in perspective, he was around before God died in the world of DxD Race: Seraph - 12 Winged Angel. Card: King of Spades Notable Skill's: As the Angel of War, it is obvious that he would have refined and mastered numerous combative skills. He is extremely potent at CQC, using a mixture of techniques he has seen combined with his own millennial experience on the field of battle to deliver powerful ruthless strikes, while not leaving an opening in his defence. He is capable of taking any position on the battlefield though he does lean towards being a soldier on the front lines. Fighting with everything he has to secure victory. He is proficient at both flying upon his wings, capable of some rather spectacular aerial movements, while also carrying someone whom weighs the same as him while he is wearing full body armour. Safe to say his superhuman strength allows him to perform such actions, because of this experience of flight, he makes as much as a fearsome aerial combatant as he does one on the ground. Due to his experiences his of war and his duty as the angel of war, he is capable of providing battlefield support to those injured. His healing methods are not to completely heal the injury as that takes time but rather stabilise and patch them up so that they can continue fighting. So for instance if they had broken their leg. He would splint it, give them some fast acting pain killers, help them to their feet. Give them back their weapon and tell them to go on the defensive. That is not to say he isn't capable of helping someone recover fully but usually on a battlefield, he isn't really capable of applying that rest and recovery in the midst of a fight. Holy Sacraments: A bottle capable of blessing any water placed within it, Useful in case one is fighting someone of the demonic sort as splashing said water on a devil really hurts them (bottle pictured on his belt). One of the whips used to whip Christ during his travel to his death, The reason why this whip is revered as a holy object is the notion of purity that comes from one receiving the whip. To be whipped by such a whip is a purifying experience, though it is still Painful, He has a suit of armour blessed by the holy that he hasn't worn since the Crusades ended. The armour is contains blessings of additional protection to the wearer above that of normal armour not that he really needs it considering his prowess for war but when it becomes needed it shows that he has become truly serious. Equipment: A first aid kit contain medical supply's that he likes to have nearby. Usually doesn't carry it himself though and so might pawn it off to another saint. The standard contents of a millitary grade first aid kit + 3 shots of Universal Adrenaline (It can be injected into anything and adjusts itself to that person structure, mostly because certain species need a lot more to stabilise.) Magic: This is a magic unique to Camael, it allows him to draw forth the sword of the god. A sword that should only be drawn when no other option can be chosen, he must even offer the enemy a chance to flee before the sword can be drawn. Once drawn the sword emits an immense beacon of energy, similar to the type given off by Light Projection, but of a more intense degree, to the point where it can be described as a sword made of the sun. Because of the energy given off by the sword, it weakens demons and evil things in its mere presence but that is not the primary effect of the sword. The primary effect of the sword is how it scales depending on who wields it against who, to put it simply if a normal angel was to lift the sword not only would it's weight adjust to suit them, but its power would shift to become more manageable, usually a large decrease however thats not to say it loses much effectiveness if used against its intended targets of heretics and those who have abandoned the path of god. Against such people, whom have no chance of salvation, the sword Will slay them if it is swung within reach of them. Usually this allows even a weak angel to take on a higher level threat but in the hands of Camael it becomes a weapon capable of *devastating* any being that has fulfilled the definition of a heretic. Though he still rarely draws it, as the smart ones run away. It is said that an enemy killed by this sword does not go to heaven or hell, their soul is simply erased... Note: The sword is unable to be drawn inside of a church, due to a church being a sanctuary. Though if that church has say... been ransacked and destroyed by fallen angels. Its not longer a holy place and the sword can be drawn when it is needed. Secondly, the sword cannot pierce or harm, someone without the intent to sin and whom hasn't sinned. It is physically incapable of doing so, meaning it is unable to harm angels. Usually. All Angels have this ability, Camael is pretty noticeable for having a distinct mastery over it when it comes to the creation of constructs of war such as swords, Bows, bucklers and in some cases chain mail with Knuckledusters (for those real tight fits). What he prefers to make appears very old fashioned but one cannot argue with reliability in a battlefield scenario. His mastery comes from just how strong the constructs he creates are when compared to other angels of lesser rank, he can also produce them en mass due to his power as a seraph, creating a countless number of thrown holy projectile. In some cases the weapons are capable of cleaving through other weapons of (Fallen) Angel's and demons. Though that is unlikely to occur unless the (Fallen) Angel/ Demon is sufficiently weaker then him. It is obviously much more effective against demons but it still remains his go to method of combat. Due to his inherent powers as a Seraph and being example of an apex of the angel species. He has formulated this type of attack through countless battles, what it does is that it sacrifices the penetrating power of a weapon or projectile and instead causes it to detonate on contact with an object or after a certain time. This detonation produces a large amount of energy similar to an explosion but with no natural fragments within. It is purely a large concussive blast of heat and energy. An effective magic that has helped him out of some tough spots, the long range communication effectively functions as a way of broadcasting thought messages to people willing to receive them, It is very hard to tap into such a connection as a third party but not impossible. It has happened before. Personality: War what is it good for? Well, War is necessary in order to protect the world from falling to heretic downfall, at least Camael believes that to be the case, Camael is indifferent to the fighting of humans devils or angels. It was what he was born to do himself. He aligns himself to the cause that can be seen as good, the one that god would likely choose if given no other option. He is always up for a fight. Such is his nature. Fighting aisde, he can be seen as a rather unique individual, he follows the rules of the scripture, but bends them as much as he can manage, in order to best fulfil his role as one of the strongest warriors in all of heaven. Still even if he has his own way of the sword he can be seen as a rather fatherly individual, treating others under his leadership as if they were his own flesh and blood. Granting them the utmost best he can offer them, and training them to protect themselves and become powerful warriors in their own right. While he may have his love of war however, that is not to say he is completely emotionally fortified like some superhuman, his mentality does have a weakness. While he can be seen ans an almost unstoppable juggernaut that you would really not want to take hostage or anger. Those that he knows are likely not as strong. The best way to make the castle fall after all. Is it to take it out brick by brick until it crumbles. History: It was 3000 years prior, the seraphs had protested him fighting, but his face too kind. His words too knowing. He was like a father to all angels. He was the holy father and he fell in a war. Camael wished he had been there instead of leading a small battalion against a larger horde of their traitor brethren. Of course he had won the battle against such a overwhelming odd but that didn't change the greatest loss that they had ever experienced. It was this moment that changed him. Other angels turned to the right hand of god for guidance but this seraph decided to grieve, he had earned the right too. It was a grieving that took a hundred years. When he had came out however, he was resolved. He was going to follow the path of god righteously and hold up the lords beliefs. Those that use his name in vain will not no the loss the angels felt. They will feel the Angel of War's wrath upon them. Such was his resolve, that many of his story revolved around his protection of the faith and his belief that one must not be afraid to resort to violence in protection of the weak members of the faith. He was the shield of the faithful in their time of great strife. The angel of war. In modern times however, he has mellowed out more to have a bit more care for the soldiers under his leadership outside of war. After all, his comrades have his back as much as he has theirs and being a complete Jackass would only result in him becoming betrayed. He has only rather recently become the King of his own set of Brave Saints stationing them in a vacant office building that he brought using his funds from his service in war. he expects them to become the best they can ever become. To defend the faith as he has done for countless years, true allies on the field of battle. "In the name of the lord, we swords that grant sanctuary to his followers, Thy will be done." Other: When your over 4000 year old and still a virgin Theme Song

Après avoir entendu les pensées d'Alexandre sur son comportement, Chris s'est espacé quelques secondes. Et encore une fois, sa tête était en pleine rotation comme d'habitude. Analysez attentivement celui de l'homme. Manérismes, il a conclu que ce serait une idée stupide de poursuivre ce sujet. Mais même alors, il ne pouvait pas s'empêcher de penser à des choses comme: La concurrence, peu importe la façon dont vous la découpez, est une façon viable de se perfectionner, bien que je sois d'accord Avec vous, j'ai peut-être un peu exagéré, y compris Alice ». Puis quelques secondes Plus tard, il a pensé "bien que je ne suis pas au courant de la façon dont les défenses de ce Bâtir des travaux, c'est tout naturellement que je veux toutes les menaces à la sécurité de ce L'établissement hors de vue, ce n'est pas comme si j'étais contre la recherche sur la défense Mécanismes de ce bâtiment Ce n'était que ma réaction contre une menace potentielle, En fait I Serait heureux de contribuer au travail de notre... expert en sécurité, je présume. » Mais en fin de compte la seule chose que Chris a dit à Alexandre avant l'arrivée d'une autre personne a pris Son attention était "Je suppose que je serai plus prudent à partir de maintenant." Puis il se retourna lentement en écoutant les paroles enthousiastes du jeune Valkyrie et dit « apparemment pas autant que vous ». Chris s'est toujours demandé comment Schwertleite gardait un tel esprit le matin, mais il ne pouvait pas prendre son temps pour extraire une réponse concluante parce que l'un après les autres événements qui exigeaient son attention s'est produit autour de lui. Le suivant pour arriver attirer son attention était surial l'homme reclus souvent vêtu de vêtements enragés, en saluant ses compagnons comme il a fait connaître sa présence. Il ne savait certainement pas grand-chose de lui en dehors de son métier, mais quelque chose à propos de ce gars était très intéressant et Chris a vu que cette séance d'entraînement serait l'occasion parfaite d'approcher cet homme. Alors il a répondu à son pair d'un bon ton "Bienvenue, en effet ce matin était bon jusqu'à présent." Quand Chris était sur le point de poursuivre sa conversation, il se trouva en train de tenir un bol plein de nourriture grâce à l'arrivée soudaine de Suisei "bien, merci pour la nourriture je suppose" devenant un peu contrarié par l'interruption constante de son train de pensée, il s'assit juste autour et focalise toute son attention sur manger sa nourriture, étant conscient que la journée à venir aurait besoin de toute l'énergie qu'il pouvait stocker. Après avoir mangé en attendant le début de la séance de sparring en voyant la scène que Johannes était sur le point de commencer, Chris a été assez surpris quand le timide et aimable Akemi lui a aussi grondé sur cette question, il voulait dire quelque chose mais ne pouvait pas se conduire à être impoli à cette fille.Il a juré de faire un mémo plus tard sur ses approches concernant la sécurité du bureau. Quelques heures seulement s'étaient écoulées depuis le début de la journée, mais même si la vivacité de ses compagnons malgré le temps écoulé et les quelques conflits lui rappelaient un sentiment lointain.Bien que perdu dans ses pensées pour un peu en essayant de rationaliser ce sentiment était, on lui a offert une tasse de café, par la même personne qui l'a fait sans voix il ya un moment, donnant un soupir déjecté, il a accepté l'offre. "Je prends ça et ça ne me dérange pas d'avoir une recharge, Akemi-san.". Prenant une bonne gorgée lente de sa tasse de café tout en regardant les diverses interactions se produire, Chris a été submergé par un fort désir de regarder les nuages dans le ciel, en profitant de la journée comme s'il n'avait jamais ennuyé avec les envahisseurs ou avec une certaine horloge ennuyeuse."Pensant à ses dernières actions de la journée, Chris s'interroge vaguement sur le sens d'avoir des compagnons pendant qu'il attendait ce que Camael dirait sur l'organisation des matchs de la journée.

Name: Christoffer Aleksander Eilert Age: 23 years as a human 4 years as an angel Former Race : Human Race: Two-Winged Angel Card: 10 of Spades Notable Skill's : Flight:Like most of the angels chris can fly with the elegance of a bird, most of the time even better,performing 3-d maneuvers with ease. Precision: Chris can pinpoint and hit a target with tremendous accuracy,being able to spot most vulnerabilities and opportunities with a glance. Keen perception: Retaining some degree of his memories and experience from his previous life,chris is always very aware of his surroundings paying attention to the most minute of the details. Putting it together with his Recently acquired magic, he can perceive even the movement of an ant in the corner of a room. Masterful spear handling : Chris is very capable with a spear being it when intercepting other weapons with the edge of his spear or when spinning it 360º either 180º degrees to block incoming attacks.He makes even unorthodox moves at times at close range. Throwing Talent:Be it a holy spear or a needle, Chris can handle most throwing weapons with a remarkable ease. Holy Sacraments: Holy Light's Solace: A magical bracelet capable of summoning forth the blessings of heaven in the form of a pompous and intense light from the skies. The one enveloped by the light is invigorated, his ailments are gone and minor injuries engaged instantly in a healing process. Severe injuries like multiple fractures in the bone structure may not heal at first. Equipment: Sacred Gear: None yet. Magic : Unorthodox light projection:Like most angels,Chris can project light and condense it into a solid light weapon emanating holy energy.But through careful research and experimentation,he reached the conclusion that the light projections can be used in a much wider spectrum of ways. Luminous Waybill: Chris carries around with him small mirrors,in his pocket that upon being flung into the air are sustained by an almost invisible thread of light in his fingers that he uses to maneuver them around changing the trajectory of projectiles that he and others make. Radiant awareness:Chris can sustain a silent and gentle blue aura around him thaat expands 200m,into a field where he can sense most threats incoming and their nature, the same holding true for his allies, being able to estimate their physical condition. Personality: Christoffer is a very observant and serious,man though he can be at times rather silly with his suppositions.He is rather paranoid with people's intentions at all times and he Usually over thinks the meaning of people's words and actions.But if anything what distinguishes him even further to the society's normal standards is his will to do what it takes to bring the pieces of the puzzle together to solve a problem and finding a meaning to the continued struggles of life. History: Christoffer was born in the U.S.A, regardless of his danish lineage, there he lived alone With his mother, since his father that was a cop died in the line of duty during a gunfight. When he was at the tender age of 4. Because of that sudden incident, Chris even during his Childhood began to develop a very serious attitude towards the world. Even during the everyday life when in the streets or in school, he would take the utmost caution with every petty detail. Growing up, he was capable enough in his studies to score multiple A grades, during high school. But after finishing high school at the age of 18, he would find out that his life was taking a meaningless direction after all, studying everyday enclosed in a room Getting out only to supply his measly bodily functions, Did not seem very promising. So He tried something different, he made an application to the police academy after some time Hoping he could find out there the reasons that motivated his father in being a cop and some meaning To his death. He managed to enter the academy and there he trained for 5 years, never forgetting the earned mental discipline. In one of these days during the fifth year of his stay at the academy, he returned home, as usual to see his mother. Only to find out she wasn't there, he proceeded in pursuing clues to where his mother was and the only thing he managed to find was an unusual religious book. After exhausting each of his contacts at the academy, when countless days passed, he was sure that his mother went missing. He questioned himself "why". After 5 years searching for the meaning of his father's death to no avail, why was he attached to the hope he could find his mother if he only could understand and get to the source of this book? During the next 6 months Chris started to frequent the church hoping he could find some meaning for the struggles of his life. Why his father had died? Why his Mother his life only Solace disappeared ? Why he was fated to be always lonely. And so 3 months later, after a rather peculiar day of work at the Police station, when Chris was on his way home he noticed it, on a rather dim alleyway there were 3 thugs threatening a young family of 3 people, one father, one mother and one son, Chris knew what was going to happen, But he couldn't allow such a thing to happen on his watch. He couldn't allow someone to lose their family on his line of sight. So he intervened sending a warning shot to the thugs, in the following fraction of a second, he screamed his lungs out, telling the family to jump on the ground, making use of the dim illumination he sneaked through the shadows and managed to pull some large trash bins on the way of the thugs bullets, providing cover to the family while he gained some time. The family managed to get away, and for that he was glad but this battle was a lost cause, he only had 2 bullets remaining, for dealing with 3 thugs refusing to back down and that already knew his location. Chris knew that, but he couldn't go out without a fight. What followed next happened in the span of 5 seconds at the edge of his vision near his cover behind the trash bins, there were some garbage bags he could not hesitate any longer he threw the bags in the air, hoping that they would receive the shots, and they did, it was at that moment that chris opened fire with his remaining bullets hoping for the best. The result was pretty good 2 of the thugs got punctured through the stomach and ended up on the ground, but regardless of that "pretty good" just wasn't enough the third thug's retaliation was a shot between his eyes. In the few last moments of his brain activity, He Could sort out only one thought. "Not yet I have to find it the meaning of this ..life." And then all the lights of his world came to an end. Other:

———————————————————————————— Dans les heures mortes d'un samedi matin, après le lever du soleil, mais avant que la plupart de St. James n'ait terminé leur sommeil de beauté, un travailleur inlassable se mit à préparer un espace ouvert au Lawrence Theatre. Avec les rideaux épinglés en arrière et dans le besoin terrible d'un nettoyage profond et sans lumière, mais le soleil coulant à travers les fenêtres supérieures près du toit, le bâtiment semblait d'autant plus mal. C'était le côté que les clients payants n'ont pas pu voir : toutes les taches et l'usure rendues visibles par une lumière dure et révélatrice, les planches de plancher grinçantes sous le tapis rouge en peluche facilement entendu sans le bavardage étouffé du public et la délabrement globale du seul théâtre en ville étaient impossibles à ignorer. Aujourd'hui a été une autre réunion pour Abracadabra! Chaque semaine, un samedi, le directeur aimait appeler tout le monde pour les rassurer qu'ils avaient assez de fonds pour payer les salaires et continuer à travailler sur une autre performance. Les choses ont été désuètes le mois dernier, mais un travail de dernière minute les avait menés à travers. Ce n'était peut-être pas grand-chose – – l'école secondaire locale était à court d'argent aussi, et les embauchent moins fréquemment – mais cette semaine, les premiers mots de la réunion seraient une assurance qu'elle continuerait à montrer. Ils n'avaient pas encore décidé du plan d'action pour leur « grande » performance de fin d'été, ni même de la pièce, de la comédie ou de la pièce qu'ils adaptaient pour leur compagnie de ragtag. Qui travaillerait sur les costumes cette fois-ci, et qui concevoirait le décor avec quel peu ils avaient? Lequel des acteurs irait là-bas et ferait de la publicité? Qui jouerait qui? Tant de questions, et le temps de discuter de toutes ces questions était à la réunion. Entre autres choses. Le directeur avait dans sa main un bouquet délicatement enveloppé de fleurs violettes, et avec elle, un petit morceau de carte avec une note manuscrite. Il y avait eu une lettre complète l'accompagnant d'affaires professionnelles, mais ce n'était que pour ses yeux. Il l'expliquerait assez tôt. Alors qu'il s'asseyait au bord de la scène, les jambes s'accroupissent, il relisait la note qui devait être transmise à ses joueurs une fois de plus. Abracadabra! n'a pas encore été oublié. Ecrit sur des cartes chères, le genre qui était de couleur crème et avait des fossettes décoratives visibles sur la page comme si pour une reine, la note était peut-être la chose la plus agréable qui ait été dit sur l'Abracadabra actuel! non pas parce qu'ils étaient mauvais, mais parce que les gens ont très peu parlé d'eux, ce qui aurait pu être pire. Une fausse fleur a été collée sur le côté, au risque de tomber en raison du nombre de fois que l'Art l'avait manipulé dans l'incrédulité stupéfaite. C'était la même nuance de violet royal que l'encre utilisée. C'était juste une question d'attente jusqu'à ce que le plâtre inonde à 9h00 pour partager la bonne nouvelle avec des cordes attachées. Ce mystérieux bienfaiteur leur avait promis un financement suffisant pour une performance. Si les choses allaient mal avec leur dernière chance, il y aurait des licenciements. Les plus grosses. Art préférerait dissoudre l'entreprise plutôt que de laisser certains de ses talents se libérer avant qu'il ne leur ait donné une plate-forme pour voler.

Full NameGender | Age (14+) | Sexuality 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Your text here. At least one paragraph of description to go alongside the real-life faceclaim your character. Detail the basics (hair colour, build, etc.) but also their demeanor, posture, voice quality, and other key characteristics. 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Your text here. At least two or three substantial paragraphs of your character's... well, character. You may find it useful to bold key-words. Include their outward attitudes towards others, perhaps mention how well they work in a team, and be sure to make note of their most crippling fear. 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✓ ✓ ✓ ✓ ✗ ✗ ✗ ✗ 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔ Your text here. At least three or four paragraphs on your character's life thus far. Definitely include how many years of experience they have in theatre and justify their existing skills, but remember that Abracadabra! has only been in existence for 10 years, and your characters are unlikely to have joined before Y2K. It is also 2008. 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔ ● What is your character good at - generally to do with theatre, but can expand to other skills. ● Roles, parts and responsibilities are likely to come down to how good your characters are at certain things. ● Social aptitudes should also go here. Is your character good at lying? There's a talent right there. ● Maximum of four. Must be justified by history. 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ● What is your character not good at? ● If something goes wrong for your character (via GM roll) it might have something to do with one of these... ● Minimum of three. Must be substantial and not cop-outs. 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Role – Explanation. What is your character's main function in the theatre group, or rather, what are they most qualified to do. Is your character good at being comic relief? Is your character a lead actor? A supporting actor? Singer? Are they a snazzy dancer? Max of 2. 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖. ▔▔▔▔ Anything else.

Et Danny a été tiré de son accent sur la création par le son de quelqu'un lui posant une question, quelque chose sur la radio avec laquelle il travaillait. Il a levé les yeux et a levé un sourcil pour trouver une femme en forme se penchant sur sa bâche, le regardant et son équipement. Au bout d'un moment, il a enlevé un écouteur et a dit avec un sourire : « Oui, c'est une radio du Corps des Marines. Je l'ai eu par le gros tas de vieux trucs du Corps de mon père, il était dans les Marines donc il en a beaucoup. J'ai pensé que je pourrais l'épingler avec ce téléphone, essayer de faire une longue rage." Jane Kelly a pris note des paroles de l'homme et du fait qu'il a frappé son anglais sans échec. Son sourire était assez amical, mais maintenant sa curiosité était piquée car il confirmait qu'il s'agissait bien d'une radio du Corps des Marines. Cet homme ne ressemblait pas à un Marine lui-même, mais sa prétention sur la façon dont il a obtenu l'équipement semblait valable au moins. De plus, il semblait que ses compétences technologiques ne manquaient pas à tout le moins. C'est déjà un homme intéressant. "Votre père était un Marine? Dans quelle unité a-t-il servi?" Danny s'est un peu ridiculisé à sa question, disant : "Je ne sais pas vraiment. Il n'a pas aimé parler de son temps dans les Marines, car je comprends que ça ne s'est pas très bien passé... vous semblez très intéressé par le Corps, étiez-vous un Marine aussi? Si cela ne vous dérange pas, vous avez l'air américain." Jane sourit et ne pouvait s'empêcher de ressentir la fierté du Corps comme elle l'a déclaré : « C'est parce que je suis américaine. Sergent Jane Kelly, 1er régiment de marine. Servi au Moyen-Orient comme infanterie et comme assaillant." "Ah... cool." Danny répondit et frotta l'arrière de sa tête en se disant : "Aw man, je ne sais pas ce que ça veut dire..." Après un moment de plus, il demanda : "Alors, qu'est-ce que tu fais ici au Japon?" Jane a répondu rapidement en disant : « Je voyage pour voir les différents endroits du monde sans qu'on me tire dessus. » C'était la vérité. Elle n'était qu'un touriste ici, bien que cela ne signifiait pas que Jane ne séjournait pas. Loin de là, en fait. "Prenez quelques potes en poste à Camp Hansen une fois qui a suggéré de commencer ici, donc je l'ai fait." "Ah, c'est cool. Je travaille pour une société de soudage qui m'a envoyé ici pour travailler sur un gros projet. C'est un pays intéressant, n'est-ce pas? » "Je suis à peine arrivé et je dois être d'accord avec vous. Il y a beaucoup plus à faire ici qu'à mon domicile dans les États-Unis. » Kelly a pensé un moment, "Au fait, tu n'as pas dit ton nom. Et pendant que vous y êtes, pour quelle entreprise travaillez-vous?" "Ah, c'est vrai, je m'appelle Daniel Williams, mais tu peux m'appeler Danny. Je travaille pour une petite compagnie appelée DynaMetal, vous n'avez probablement jamais entendu parler de nous. Qui que ce soit, qu'est-ce qui t'amène ici ce beau matin?" "Je suis dehors pour une promenade. J'ai appris qu'il y avait un sentier de la nature un peu plus loin que ce bâtiment là-bas." Jane a pointé vers l'immeuble de bureaux. Elle a pensé une seconde, "Et vous avez deviné bien, je n'ai pas entendu parler de cette compagnie auparavant." Danny s'est branlé et a dit avec une secousse de la tête "Ah, ne t'inquiète pas, tu le feras bientôt. Nous sommes en hausse, surtout dans ces parties. Je ne savais pas qu'il y avait une piste par ici, et j'ai été ici beaucoup, mais je suppose que je ne descends pas beaucoup des routes, donc j'aurais probablement raté ça... » Danny s'est enfui et ses yeux sont retournés à la contraption à moitié formée dans ses mains alors qu'il retournait travailler dessus. "Oh, je n'ai aucun doute que j'entendrai plus de vous bientôt." Jane répondit avec un léger sourire. Elle verra si cela devient vrai ou non. Alors qu'elle regardait Danny retourner au travail sur son appareil, elle regarda autour de lui, principalement vers le bâtiment de bureau. Elle avait un drôle de sentiment à propos de cet endroit pour une raison inconnue, mais en ce moment il n'y avait aucune raison de s'inquiéter elle-même. "Tu sais, rester assis dans la rue et jouer avec ce truc ne fera que te faire ressembler de plus en plus à un clodo, n'est-ce pas?" Jane a dit à l'écart, bien qu'il n'y ait pas eu d'intention néfaste dans la façon dont elle a dit ces mots. "Un clochard, hein? C'est bien, travailler sur ce truc ici au soleil est plus amusant que mon atelier de toute façon. C'est pour ça que tu es venu ici, même si j'étais un clochard qui a volé une radio aux Marines?" Jane gigogne légèrement avant de répondre avec un sourire "Peut-être. Ce n'est pas si difficile d'obtenir une radio marine." Elle a marché vers l'endroit où le sentier était présumé être comme elle a dit "Mieux au moins obtenir une table pour travailler sur." Sentant que la conversation était proche de sa fin, Daniel regardait déjà en arrière à la radio/téléphone combo et bricolage, répondant absent « Trop lourd à transporter. Une bâche, c'est mieux." Jane a riposté à cette réponse, regardant sa montre. "Comme tu veux. J'y vais. Peut-être qu'on se reverra." Avec ça, Jane a fait un dernier clin d'œil avant de se déplacer sur la piste.

Name: Jane Kelly Age: 22 Former Race: Race: Human Card: Notable Skill's: Discipline- Jane Kelly has discipline and knows how to follow orders well. Firearms proficiency- Kelly is proficient in most firearms, most notably assault rifles and handguns. She was officially qualified for use of the M9 service pistol and the M4A1 when she was in the Marines. Tactical Assessment- Jane knows how to look at a situation and give a tactical assessment, adjusting accordingly and changing tactics if necessary. Assaultman- Jane served as an Assaultman for a portion of her tour. This means she is experienced in demolitions and the disarmament of explosives as well as the use of anti-tank weapons. Holy Sacraments: Equipment: M9 Service Pistol(Disassembled where needed) with 5 15-shot magazines, Combat knife, Kevlar vest worn underneath her jacket, Military backpack on her person. Sacred Gear: Armor of Retribution: The user of this sacred gear allows the wearer to magically don the armor that most represents them. No matter what kind of armor this is represented as, the wearer gains considerable defense, agility and attack capabilities while the armor is present. Any weapons used in lieu of this armor have increased effectiveness. However, despite its durability if the armor breaks without the user's will the user falls into a helpless stupor. Magic: Personality: Jane Kelly was once a Marine, and thus in her eyes anyone who was in the Marines are always a Marine. Therefore, Kelly has a high sense of camaraderie. Once more, Kelly is a devout follower of Christ, though not to the point of being overbearing. Kelly is willing to put herself into danger if it meant saving another's life though acknowledges that she cannot get herself killed in the process or the act would be moot. Kelly can sometimes be a lateral thinker, sometimes having unorthodox methods to solving a problem though this is not always the case. Jane has been a prisoner of war before and despises leaving anyone behind to be captured. History: Jane Kelly was born in the United States of America, where she lived in a farming community. Her father was that of a former Marine and her mother a country bumpkin turned officer worker. That being said, it was not her parents that turned Kelly into a devout Christian but her grandparents. They always took her to church every Sunday, read her the bible, and even encouraged her to perform in plays about Christ. While going through public school, Jane's grades were decently within the B and A range. While she could have gone through any field she wanted to, Jane instead decided to follow what her father has done and join the Marines at the age of 17. In the Marines, Jane went through the basic training like everyone else, though she noticed all of the debauchery that commonly happened in the Marines. Instead of partaking in it, Jane was one to avoid the worse of it due to her faith. During her tour Jane rose through the ranks as infantry until she reached the rank of corporal, then on her last two years of service she became an Assaultman, spending her last year as a sergeant. In her last year, while clearing an area for landmines and IEDs Jane's squad got ambushed and captured by Islamic extremists. Though her squad was soon split apart, Jane was sent to a makeshift prison facility where she was tortured. Even to this day, Jane could not describe the pain that she had to endure. Jane watched as her comrades were tortured one by one, with herself not able to do anything about it, and then killed right in front of her eyes. Even when she was not done grieving, they still made her go through that pain over and over again. After two weeks, Jane was near her limit with only her devotion to Christ keeping her from breaking when Marine Force Recon raided the location, setting Jane and the survivors of her squad free. To Jane, this meant God did not forsake her and her devotion to the Lord only grew. Still, Jane was broken enough by the harrowing event that when her time came to end her tour, she did so. Though these people were bad, she forgave them for they were ignorant of the Lord. Now, Jane goes on to travel after her tour was finished, visiting different locations each time though always armed just in case events go south. Other: Jane is an avid gun-lover and keeps a collection in her home. She also has an automatic firearms license.

Il était tôt le matin – si terriblement et dévastatricement tôt le matin – et le bruit agaçant de son alarme, sirène impitoyable a surpris Ziggy de ses rêves. Se réveiller au milieu d'un rêve est le pire, et Ziggy a commencé sa journée de congé mauvais. C'était aussi un samedi, ce qui signifiait qu'il y avait une réunion de théâtre. Les premières heures du matin ont été passées en présence d'e-mails sur des emplois potentiels – principalement en lui envoyant son CV et un sentiment d'échec écrit dedans; Ziggy aime Abracadabra! Mais ça ne paie pas bien. De plus, Ziggy devenait de plus en plus mortifiée parce qu'elle vivait presque trente ans dans le sous-sol de ses parents. Malheureusement, il n'y avait pas beaucoup d'emplois autour de St. James qui étaient en demande de Ziggy. Son e-mail était un peu nu, seulement un petit cercle bleu non lu d'une entreprise de design d'intérieur à Charlotte Hills, en Illinois. Elle y avait postulé il y a un moment, avant de rejoindre Abracadabra!, dans la semaine qui a suivi son licenciement et ses parents l'ont poussée à envoyer son curriculum vitae. Le champ du sujet a dit ominablement : « Nouvelle position ouverte ». Ziggy a légèrement tapé son doigt sur sa souris, pas assez difficile de cliquer sur quoi que ce soit – elle pouvait sentir ses orteils fléchir avec le lourd fardeau de l'indécision. Elle murmura à elle-même, se fermant de son email et s'étirant. L'horloge sur son ordinateur lui a dit qu'elle devrait partir pour la réunion bientôt, et il a été quelques minutes lent. Ziggy s'est emparée de sa veste et a mis son pied sur le premier pas de sa chambre temporaire pathétique, mais la lueur bleue de l'ordinateur lui a donné un sentiment de culpabilité. Ziggy voulait ce travail – ce serait bien pour elle, de se remettre sur pied. Mais ça voulait dire qu'on avait beaucoup de retard. Les orteils de Ziggy's ont encore fléchi quand elle a sorti son téléphone et a commencé à taper un message. À : Ma pression principale Achetez-moi le déjeuner plus tard. n'ont pas besoin de nourriture pour aller faire du shopping Merde, ça avait l'air autoritaire. Mais il était trop tard pour ne pas l'envoyer. Ça serait vraiment nul si Noa disait non – Ziggy ne pouvait même pas penser à déjeuner avec sa mère. Il aurait probablement été beaucoup plus simple si Ziggy vient de dire qu'elle voulait le voir, juste pour qu'elle puisse se mentir et dire que rester à St. James était la meilleure option – à cause du potentiel d'Abracadabra! et ils sont de petite taille, mais en croissance lente. Mais c'était collant, et Ziggy se détesterait si elle était du genre collant – comme c'est gênant. Non, c'était bien mieux de faire semblant d'être une actrice affamée. Zdzisława, êtes-vous sur le point de partir?, Ziggy, maman a bourdonné par la porte, une assiette de gaufres se noyant dans le sirop dans sa main. J'espérais qu'on pourrait déjeuner ensemble. Ziggy a maudit sa chance, sa mère et ces gaufres délicieuses. Ziggy n'a jamais pu dire non à sa mère, de toute façon, pas avec ses yeux de chien qui semblaient si optimistes. C'était dégoûtant. Comme un après-pensée, Ziggy a ajouté, Je vais probablement sortir avec Noa plus tard, donc je ne serai probablement pas à la maison pour le déjeuner. Sa mère a pratiquement escorté Ziggy à la table à manger, un œil vigilant sur elle – probablement pour s'assurer qu'elle ne tire pas un Houdini et disparaît. Pas du tout? Pourquoi? Date du déjeuner.Les gaufres coupées facilement sous son couteau au beurre et Ziggy en ont traîné une tranche à travers le sirop épais. Elle a fait semblant d'être absolument fasciné par ses gaufres, au lieu de regarder vers le haut pour voir sa mère sans aucun doute les yeux confus. Sa mère lui a donné un moment de paix avant de demander, laissant Ziggy mâcher sa nourriture avant qu'elle puisse enquêter plus avant. Ziggy a pris son temps, la gaufre est devenue trop vite une bouillie. - C'est un rendez-vous? Est-ce qu'il paie? Quand ta mère et tata sortaient ensemble, c'était un gentleman. Il m'emmenait dans tous les restaurants et payait toujours ma facture comme si ce n'était rien! Je ne serais pas surpris s'il s'était couché dans une flaque juste pour que je ne mouille pas mes chaussures. Vous êtes comme votre mère, Zdzisława, vous aimez les messieurs – seul un gentleman pourrait prendre soin de quelqu'un d'aussi particulier que vous. J'espère que ce Noa est un gentleman. Ziggy bouffée d'eau – seule sa mère pouvait rendre son visage aussi rouge si vite. Ziggy ne pouvait pas attendre pour sortir de cette maison. Même sa mère pensait qu'elle était à haut niveau d'entretien, et sa mère était la femme la plus à haut niveau d'entretien qu'elle ait jamais rencontrée. Il était temps d'aller de l'avant avant que le sujet ne s'envole encore plus vers le bas. Je devrais y aller maintenant, je ne veux pas être trop tard. Elle ne portait pas de montre, mais sa mère ne pouvait pas le dire puisqu'elle portait des manches longues. D'accord, je vais nettoyer la table à manger, vous vous dépêchez et allez. Ziggy s'est précipitée par la porte et n'a pas pris la peine de regarder en arrière; elle aurait même pu casser quelque chose quand elle a claqué sa porte de voiture trop fort. Ziggy a saisi le volant et laissé la mémoire musculaire l'emmener au théâtre. Le théâtre est triste, surtout le matin. Il est facile de l'ignorer s'écroulant la nuit, quand ils travaillent comme des abeilles occupées; mais avec la lumière qui brille dessus, toutes les fissures et les miettes sont visibles. Ziggy réalise tardivement qu'elle n'était pas en retard du tout – son horloge doit être rapide au lieu de lente – car il n'y a que deux voitures dans le parking. Le sien et, certainement, le directeur. Le plancher de bois caché crève sous les pieds de Ziggy et après un petit bruit de fissuration, elle a un peu peur qu'une des planches s'effondre. Quand elle entre dans le théâtre, elle peut voir le mop brun sauvage des cheveux d'Art. Combien de temps pensez-vous que cela prendra les autres?La question sort plus exaspérée et bâillonnée que Ziggy ne voulait dire, mais elle n'allait pas se corriger à tout moment bientôt.

Female | Twenty-nine | Demiromantic-Bisexual Let's get Ziggy with it. 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ There’s always that person who looks exactly like how their personality is – and Ziggy is that person. With her triangular face, slanted eyebrows, and almond eyes, she almost looks a bit like a fox, if you turn your head the right way. Her lips are small and her cupid’s bow strong; and when she smiles, it’s charmingly twisted, like she knows something you don’t. Ziggy is of mid-height (being 5’6”) and isn’t particularly muscular or weak. However, her hips flare out slightly and her thighs are strong and thick – Ziggy is really proud of her thighs. Ziggy puts in a lot of effort to make it look like she didn’t put any effort in, as confusing as it sounds. Every two days, she shaves the left side of her head clean and smooth, making sure to not to have jagged edges or a missed patch. Her short hair, which is normally a frizzy and curly nightmare, has been straightened and mussed with hair gel – no matter how much she straightens it, though, it will always be the slightest bit wavy. Before bed, Ziggy cleans her face carefully to keep her skin smooth – except her hands are a lost cause, the palms calloused from messing around on set all day. The only heavy makeup she likes to wear is around her eyes, preferring her eyeliner in the typical cat-eye style and smoky eyeshadow – though she tends to smudge her makeup the slightest so it doesn’t look immaculate. She also makes sure to always smell nice – she likes the heavy, non-flowery bottled eucalyptus scent. Ziggy stands tall and straight, but still relaxed. She never slouches, but her posture can’t be described as rigid because she seems to be perfectly confident and at home. Ziggy tends to cross her arms a lot when standing still, or tucking her hands in her pockets – back and front. She doesn’t like the feeling of her arms just hanging around. Ziggy has an intimidating walk, as silly as it sounds, because she tends to walk like she’s on a mission – fast, but not hurried, and determined. Ziggy could be considered as someone stony as she typically doesn’t give anything away through her body or her voice. Her body tends to always be straight and never quiver under attention or show discomfort, and her raspy voice is deadpan. Any emotion that could be conveyed through her voice is killed by the fact that everything she says sounds like an insult or sarcasm – it’s really hard giving compliments for her. Ziggy has “Przemyslaw” tattooed on the side of her right rib cage and “Ciekawość to pierwszy stopień do piekła” tattooed on her left hip. Ziggy has her ears pierced three times and a belly ring, and she hates the idea of piercing her face – to each their own, though. She has a burn scar on her left shoulder blade that travels down to a few inches about her elbow and is the reason why she only wears long sleeves or jackets. While Ziggy enjoys to appear punk rock, she also likes to be vaguely professional. Ziggy tends to wear tight dark jeans, heeled boots, and a Henley or v-neck under a leather jacket. 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Ziggy has always been the rebellious type – she didn’t exactly like being told what to do. She had a natural hate for authority, which led her to do quite the opposite as a teenager and got her into a whole lot of trouble. Mischievous, Ziggy is always concocting pranks and plans to pull something over someone – it’s something she’s been doing since she was a little girl. But it wasn’t just pranks that Ziggy would plan; sometimes Ziggy just liked to get into trouble, do things she shouldn’t be doing, and she had to lie to cover it up most of the time. Covering her tracks quickly built up her lying abilities, giving Ziggy a sly quality in her that leaves her glib and sharp-witted. Most of the time, Ziggy just uses her slyness to excuse her slight laziness. Acerbic sarcasm and gruff threats of violence are Ziggy’s primary form of communication. That isn’t to say she’s a woman of little words, Ziggy likes to think she talks the average amount as other people. Rather, Ziggy has a problem with communicating how she really feels to others and would rather cover up her vulnerabilities and awkwardness towards the genuine with harsh rebukes. Ziggy is quite the confident person, and is satisfied with her personality and looks; however, she has a deep and crippling fear. When in front of a group of people, she ends up speechless and has even fainted once or twice. The idea of a rebel brings to mind a grungy girl, hair mussed and completely disorganized. And, maybe, in appearance, Ziggy fits that. But that’s where it ends. Because, you see, Ziggy is a micromanager. Everything in her life has to be absolutely perfect – everything in her house is organized; she color codes her closet, organizes her books by author’s name, etcetera etcetera. She can be quite the control freak and tends to come off as bossy when she tells people what to do all the time when it comes to work. A born perfectionist, people often get exasperated by her need to have everything flawless. If something isn’t perfect, Ziggy becomes neurotic about it and will chew her nails to the quick. It’s safe to say, that when it comes to working in a team, Ziggy would much rather take charge and have others follow. 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✓ Mid-afternoon naps ✓ Cake ✓ Hot chocolate ✓ Big dogs ✗ Wet socks ✗ Funerals ✗ Long hair ✗ Sports 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔ Zdzisława Gniewek was five when her family immigrated to Pennsylvania, USA. Zdzisława had found the whole move exhausting, even at five years old she remembers that – it was a hard move, her parents had no money to buy a good house, only a shitty apartment with leaks and gross neighbors, and her little three-year-old brother, Przemyslaw, was whining and crying most of the time. Zdzisława was enrolled in kindergarten and, predictably, hated it – especially since she couldn’t speak a lick of English and understood jack shit. And when she wasn’t at school, she was in their rundown apartment watching Przemyslaw while both her parents worked – they didn’t have enough money to afford a babysitter and knew no one who would watch their children. So, Zdzisława did the babysitting – and, because she was so young, the door was locked and bolted out of their reach so Zdzisława and Przemyslaw could neither get kidnapped or leave. Mostly, all they did was play puzzles and eat cereal. Zdzisława was a curious child and often tricked her little brother, Przemyslaw, into joining her in her little schemes. One day, after school when Zdzisława was seven and Przemyslaw was five, Zdziława had talked her brother into playing a game with her. She dubbed the game “Supervillian.” In the game, Zdzisława would play the supervillain and would put her stuffed animals in precarious situations and Przemyslaw had to stop her in creative ways before time ran out. Mostly it was simple things, like stopping her from flushing the stuffed bear, or from ripping it apart. However, this particular afternoon, Zdzisława wanted to up the game. At the time, she was learning about the dangers in fire in school (through the two years she has been in America, she has grasped the basics of English, though she was far behind her peers). So, she wanted to see what it would be like if her stuffed elephant was set on fire. Her parents were working and it was just the two of them – it was really easy for Zdzisława to find the lighter that her mom used for smoking. Her brother didn’t save the elephant on time. The elephant went up in flames and Zdzisława dropped it in a panic when it burnt her fingers. She left the room and went to the bathroom to grab some water and put it out, but by the time she got back her entire mattress was on fire and it was spreading to her curtains and she tried to throw water on it but it didn’t do a damn thing. Zdzisława grabbed Przemyslaw and pushed him to the ground, made him crawl in front of her to the door. Except, it was bolted – like it usually is, so they didn’t go out. Zdzisława banged on the door for help, and started yelling to get attention. Her neighbors stirred at the smell of smoke and she could hear them panicking and leaving outside. The fire was starting to creep towards the door and so she dragged Przemyslaw, who was coughing and had rattled breath, into the bathtub and ran water – hoping it would keep the fire away. She then left him there and went to the windows. Most of them were latched except for one, and that had fire burning away the wallpaper and carpet. She reached a hand through anyways and tried to wriggle the window open to get her and her brother out. Her sleeve caught fire though and she stumbled away, smacking at her shoulder and arm, trying to get the fire off. Eventually the pain became too much and she blacked out. Later, she woke up in the hospital with 3rd degree burns on her shoulder and arm and to the news that her brother was in a coma from carbon monoxide poisoning. Two weeks later, he died. When Zdzisława healed, they moved from Pennsylvania to St. James, Indiana. Zdzisława went to a new school and became withdrawn and uncommunicative to her peers. Though, her classmates never stopped trying to befriend her – they started to call her “Ziggy” since no one could actually pronounce her name. Most of the time, Ziggy struggled in school till the second grade due to her limited knowledge in English, until her teacher started to keep her in at recess and after school to teach her English. Of course, she didn’t learn English in a year, but continued to receive lessons from her second-grade teacher even after she had graduated elementary school and in the first year of middle school. By her freshman year in high school, Ziggy had lost her accent and was on par with her peers in English. In her sophomore year of high school, Ziggy’s English class took a field trip to the local theater. They saw Antigone and in that moment, Ziggy fell in love with theater. However, she had developed a fear of public speaking when she was a child due to her limited English at the time, and so she never chased that pipedream. Instead, she went on to become an interior designer for a company and wasted behind a desk in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, designing the insides of malls and stores for her company. Ziggy never did anything notable in that time period – never married, never had a serious boyfriend or girlfriend, just stood still in her small apartment and at her ugly ass office desk. Until the anniversary of Przemyslaw’s death in 2007, when she proceeded to get drunk off her ass after visiting her old home and destroying her bastard of a boss’s office in the middle of the night. She was obviously fired the next day, and her work reputation completely destroyed – no other companies would hire her. Ziggy left to go visit her parents in Indiana, where they remained in St. James. For an entire week, she laid in her pajamas, ate cereal, and watched mindless TV. To cheer her up, her aging mother dragged her to a small production of Antigone by the small theater company in the town. The next day, Ziggy impulsively turned in her resume to them and officially joined the company. 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔ ● Set Designing ● Organizing ● Scheming ● Lying 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ● Fear of public speaking ● Lack of acting experience ● Bad teamwork skills 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Set Designer - Ziggy works on the creation of the theatre set; she works on the painting and the building of the fake buildings and the general visual aesthetics. Supporting actress - Ziggy works mostly as a background character with very, very, very little lines due to her fear of public speaking. However, Ziggy dreams of overcoming her public speaking problem and breaking out as one of the lead actresses. 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖. ▔▔▔▔ Chicago - She would like to play Velma Kelly, really, really badly.

Collab avec: Akemi a laissé un soupir quand c'était à leur tour de se battre. Elle n'avait aucun doute qu'Alice allait essuyer le sol avec elle. Elle a été dans la pairie le plus longtemps et elle a probablement eu le plus d'expérience dans les combats et avait des sorts vraiment puissants de ce dont elle se souvenait lors des autres combats d'entraînement. Alice avait aussi six ailes, bien plus puissantes qu'elle. Quatre ailes plus puissantes qu'elle. Elle secoua la tête et sirota son café pour la dernière fois avant le combat pour calmer ses nerfs... n'est-ce pas la meilleure idée, mais peut-être aussi bien? Elle se dirigea vers l'arène et regarda Alice. Elle s'est prosternée la tête. Les L-L-Let's ont une bonne bataille oui? Alice a dit qu'elle courrouçait à son adversaire étant aussi poli que possible c'était un match formel mieux être poli plus les gens étaient pratiquement de la famille à ce stade. Qu'avec une touche de poignet un violeur de lumière formé dans ses mains alors que d'autres épées apparaissaient autour et commencèrent à l'entourer. Alice a demandé qu'elle n'était pas la meilleure dans le combat physique, mais en tant qu'ouvreur elle lui a permis de mieux voir où aller ensuite. Sans une seule seconde gaspillée, elle chargea ses ailes vers l'avant en direction d'Akemi. Les ailes d'Akemi ont éclaté quand les épées d'Alice étaient apparues. Il n'y avait pas grand-chose qu'elle puisse faire pour l'offense et elle était probablement à court de pouvoir magique si elle était tout simplement constamment barrée. Elle peut au moins être fière du fait qu'elle était plutôt douée pour voler. Alors qu'Alice s'approchait, à peine assez pour l'atteindre avec un violeur, Akemi s'envola vers le haut en espérant que l'élan d'Alice lui donnerait des ennuis avec un changement soudain de cap. Sans une seule pensée qu'Alice pédalée au milieu de l'air avant de lever son bras gauche et de lui casser les doigts.Shine out o brillance tempest..Elle a intonné comme des flèches de lumière magiques pleuvent d'au-dessus de milliers d'entre eux tombant sur le champ de bataille avec nary une pensée dans une cible spécifique. Elle ne plaisante pas. Akemi leva la main et créa une barrière qui n'était que suffisamment grande pour la couvrir pour conserver l'énergie magique. Il a pu résister aux flèches. Comme les flèches tombaient tout droit, elle garda son attention sur Alice, méfiant de ce qu'elle fera ensuite. Avec son attaque principale bloquée pour le plus Alice a dispersé ses épées et se concentrer alors que deux boules d'énergie commence à prendre forme autour d'elle avant de devenir des rubans et snaking dehors pour prendre sur Akemi alors que cela a été fait Alice a détourné un peu de son attention à la réunion de l'énergie magique et sainte autour d'elle avant de libérer ce qui peut seulement être décrit comme des lasers à ainsi. Akemi utilise son anneau pour dissiper les rubans, mais les lasers sont assez puissants pour ne pas être affectés. Elle secoua la tête et s'envola pour l'éviter. Elle forma alors trois épées et la lança sur elle. Pendant qu'elle le bloquait, elle faisait le tour et lançait deux autres épées. Smirking Alice sourit que ça devenait amusant. Avant que l'épée ne puisse frapper ses propres épées apparut une fois de plus autour d'elle en la protégeant des attaques qui arrivent. Le garder comme une barrière de toutes sortes Alice a décidé d'être un peu difficile avec sa magie car elle une fois de plus s'est claquée les doigts.Shine s'est exclamé comme des flèches une fois de plus est tombée étant dirigée vers différentes directions vers l'avant et vers l'arrière. Créer un véritable enfer de balle avec ses flèches avant les flèches qui sont tombées sur le sol et l'ont touché devenant des rubans et ont commencé à frapper dans des directions aléatoires ne cherchant pas à lier Akemi plutôt constricter les zones de mouvement. Comme Alice a bloqué les épées, Akemi a cliqué sur sa langue. Elle s'est dirigée vers la zone où Alice se tenait et a activé l'anneau de dissipation. Cela l'empêcherait d'utiliser des sorts de bas niveau aussi longtemps qu'il est là. Alors qu'Alice chantait pour sa prochaine attaque, Akemi lança deux lances de lumière vers elle avant d'invoquer une barrière défensive autour d'elle pour la couvrir des flèches. Elle a regardé que les rubans ont commencé à frapper autour mais ne semblait pas viser à la frapper. Elle devait sortir. Sans beaucoup de soin sur ceux qui se dirigent vers elle comme deux rubans sont venus pour le bloquer du contact. Alice a continué son assaut en pleuvant des flèches et en apportant plus de rubans pour restreindre le mouvement plongeant vers le bas, elle a habilement tissé entre les rubans en sachant où chacun et où il allait. Ce qu'Alice faisait était un peu plus qu'une performance pour des spectateurs extérieurs qui ne la connaissaient pas aussi bien que dire Camael ou Alexander. Recharger une fois de plus elle a tiré son sort de signature certains l'appelleraient l'explosion de la lumière de l'étoile en changeant les angles pour éviter les rubans comme il visait pour Akemi une fois de plus. Bien qu'en raison de cela, elle a annulé la pluie de flèche vu que la majorité de la pièce était déjà couverte de ses rubans. Il y avait trop de rubans autour d'elle. Ça limiterait vraiment ses mouvements. Elle a changé le marqueur autour d'elle pour que les rubans autour d'elle disparaissent et que tout autre ruban entrant dans la zone soit également dissipé. Les flèches ont disparu mais elle a vu une autre attaque se glisser autour des rubans et se diriger droit vers elle. Depuis que les rubans au-dessus d'elle ont disparu grâce à l'Anneau de Dispel, elle s'envole vers le haut pour avoir une meilleure vue de l'attaque. Il semblait aller tout droit vers elle de toute façon. Elle a fait une barrière entre elle et l'attaque dans l'espoir de pouvoir survivre à cette attaque. Elle a réussi à le bloquer sans beaucoup de dégâts physiques. Mais Akemi a rétréci les yeux. C'était mauvais. C'était vraiment mauvais. Alice sourit un peu que c'était amusant qu'elle n'eût jamais aimé se battre mais quelque chose comme ça était plutôt amusant pour elle que personne ne soit blessé au mal et c'était pour le bien d'un seul soi. Alice a crié de se lancer un peu dans le combat alors qu'elle libérait des rubans liant les bras et les jambes d'Akemi, tandis que ses étoiles s'assuraient qu'elle ne pouvait pas vraiment bouger. Devant elle, des boules familières de lumière et de magie étaient nombreuses en nombre alors qu'elle se préparait à la terminer. Akemi a été choquée par le fait que les rubans lient ses bras et ses jambes, l'empêchant de bouger. Sans pouvoir magique laissé à cause de cette défense plus tôt, elle ne pouvait pas utiliser n'importe lequel pour couper cela. Ces boules de magie légère allaient finir tout ça. Elle pourrait juste abandonner ici et maintenant... mais Camael serait énervée et elle préférerait qu'il ne l'oblige pas à abandonner si facilement. Elle soupira et puis s'appuya une fois de plus sur la puissance de l'Anneau de Dispel, espérant qu'il suffirait de dissiper les liaisons sur ses membres pour qu'elle puisse s'envoler. C'était fini alors qu'Akemi ne pouvait pas sortir dans le temps la forçant à prendre la force brute des poutres se dirigeant vers elle en infligeant assez de dégâts pour considérer le spar fait.

Name: Akemi Haruna Age: 18 Former Race: Human Race: Two-winged Angel Card: Two of Spades Notable Skills: - Cooking: This woman can cook practically anything in perfection. Mixing herbs into her cooking and still making it taste great is one of the main reasons this is something to be mentioned. - Flight: Like any other angel, she can utilize her wings to fly. However, she has shown that she is faster in the air than on the ground. She meticulously controls her flight which results to her able to fly fast and turn without a problem. - Herbalist: Because she was aiming to become a Biologist before she tragically died, she has a wide knowledge about many plants and their effects. She still uses this knowledge to help her fellows out. - Singing: Even before she was reincarnated as an angel, she already had a good and solid voice. She has a pretty wide pitch range. Unfortunately, she is too shy to show it off to anyone besides her family and boyfriend. Holy Sacraments: It is a magical ring with the power to cancel out magic and enchantments. It is placed on her right index finger. The ring is able to cancel all magic and enchantments of Brave Saints - does not work on pureblood angels or those that are too powerful - in an area. She is able to put a 'marker', which is essentially the center of the five meter radius where the magic/enchantments are negated, anywhere in her line of sight. Anyone in the radius would become unable to cast magic - friend and foe alike. This does not affect her. Equipment: Sacred Gear: N/A Magic: - Light Projection: Like all angels, she can create virtually anything with this power. The weaponry she creates are relatively weaker than most; however, her defensive constructs are nothing to laugh at. Her defensive constructs are pretty solid and is known that it could withstand a number of attacks. Song of the Angels: By singing a singular song, she is able to strengthen all aspects to all of her allies that are able to hear her. The song buffs up speed, agility, endurance, mental resistance, strength and numbs pain for the duration of the song. The moment she stops singing, the buff would completely disappear until she sings again. When she starts dodging while singing, the effects lessens but it is still there. However, when she uses other types of magic (excluding the sacracment's magic), she is unable to sing as she needs to concentrate on one magic completely (for now at least). To activate: Akemi recites the Lord's Prayer while kneeling and with her hands clasped together in a praying position. Once she finishes, the people around her must respond with 'Amen' and the buff is immediately administered. If they do not respond, the buff will not be administered to them. As she recites the second time around, she is freely able to move; however, it is better if she is stationary as moving dodging attacks lessens the effect. Also, the others do not need to respond. Only Angels may receive the buff - a demon or fallen angel responding would result to them feeling the physical pain of burning for the duration of the buff. - Language: Like all angels, she has the ability to talk in any language and understand it. She is especially thankful for this as this means she can read books written on other languages without a problem. Personality Akemi is a very insecure person who often is not sure if she can do it or not. It only takes a bit of convincing for her to try something out but even then she is a nervous wreck. She has a tendency to stutter. Insulting her is a great way to make her withdraw but encouraging her also bolsters her morale almost immediately. She is quite a nice person and is very helpful. She's a very good listener and tries to give good advices when possible. She has a bit of a problem with talking in front of many people. Her voice becomes a whisper and her thoughts jumble up. Thankfully, she is able to converse with members of the angelic peerage properly and has no problem with them. To others, however... well, there lies the problem. Lately, she has been improving. History: Akemi doesn't have a very colorful background. In fact, it was very... bland and ordinary. She wasn't a very social person and her parents were always never home but she often spends time alone by reading books and fantasizing of a future far more grand than she can ever hope to achieve. She felt that being in the fictional world is better than anything else. Written words were always better than spoken ones for her. She had very few friends and even they sometimes forget about her. She doesn't have much of a presence after all. This never bothered her of course. She was more than happy to simply bury herself in books wherein no one would judge her. She won't have to make an effort to appeal to anyone. It was perfect. However, one day when she was sixteen, she met this man. He seemed like a nice man. His name? Kenji Callas. He helped her out when she was out in a garden naming plants. She then found out that he lived nearby. Ever since then, she'd been meeting him more and more frequently and they've had some in depth talk. He was the first person to ever pull her out of her books. And the more she spent time with him, the more she felt like she was falling in love with him. After eight months, he confessed and she accepted. She didn't know she could have even felt this happy in all of her life. After all, she never expected she would ever find someone she could love romantically. That was the best year of her life. But all good things must come to an end. On a camping trip, a year after they became lovers, they were attacked. She wasn't sure what they were and she doesn't really remember all that much. She only has hazy memories of Kenji trying to protect her and then her dying. She thinks Kenji actually ran after the culprits. She was dying and she knew it. She was prepared to close her book. That was when he arrived. An angel of the heavens. She was resurrected into an angel herself. Camael was her savior. She didn't understand it for a while but finally got a hang of it. It has been two and a half years since then.

Teshiko Maki VS - Des schwertélites. Merci, Teshiko a répondu à Suisei alors qu'il lui tendait l'oyakodon. Malgré le venin dans ses paroles et l'éblouissement mortel qu'il lui a donné en passant l'assiette du petit déjeuner, l'ange a refusé de tomber à son niveau de légèreté et a accepté le don de la nourriture avec grâce. Bien que, une fois l'ancien yakuza parti, elle a vérifié pour le sabotage possible, à demi-attente de trouver qu'il avait craché dedans ou a fait un autre acte insouciant pour la punir. Ce n'est qu'après qu'elle fut absolument sûre qu'il n'y avait rien de mal à ça qu'elle finirait par mordre un morceau. Un petit sourire traversa son visage tandis que le goût de l'oyakodon passa sur sa langue. Suesei peut être une brute, mais il sait certainement où trouver une grande dégustation de nourriture. L'Ange continuerait à profiter de son repas jusqu'à ce qu'elle entende la voix de leur chef, Camael. Elle avait un grand respect pour l'homme et non seulement en raison de sa compétence au combat, mais aussi pour sa volonté de regarder au-delà de son histoire. Même quelques années plus tard, elle entendait ses compagnons anges des ragots et des rumeurs sur ce qu'elle avait fait avec Kiyoshi chaque fois qu'elle visitait le Ciel, c'est pourquoi elle évitait souvent de passer plus de temps que nécessaire là-bas. Ah oui, Camael. Mieux vaut arrêter de laisser mon esprit errer et se concentrer sur ce qu'il dit. Avec la connaissance de qui sa rivale serait dans ce matin, Teshiko s'est levée à ses pieds et s'est approchée de l'ancienne valkyrie. Schwertleite, c'est un honneur d'être choisi comme votre adversaire pour le match d'aujourd'hui. Je promets de vous montrer mon respect en tant que guerrier en faisant tout mon possible pour gagner et j'espère que vous m'accorderez le même privilège. S'il vous plaît, ne vous retenez pas d'aucune façon., elle a dit à la femme avec son expression neutre habituelle. Schwertleite, qui avait fini son propre repas par ce point, a déposé toutes les miettes qu'elle avait laissées alors qu'elle se brosse les mains bien les uns contre les autres afin de nettoyer tout désordre qui restait, en voulant qu'elle les mains aussi propres que possible avant le combat. Comme Teshiko, Schwertleite dit qu'elle s'est attirée à sa pleine hauteur en prenant une position assignée aussi loin que possible de Camael, de sorte que sa main touchait le mur du dos afin de lui donner le plus de portée pour commencer. Alors, Teshiko, allons-nous rester ici toute la journée ou allons-nous nous battre? C'était un devoir de valkyrie de combattre presque comme c'était un devoir d'ange de défendre. En réponse, Teshiko ferma les yeux et s'inclina, tournant le dos sur son adversaire pour se diriger vers le mur opposé. Une fois en position, l'ange se retourna vers Schwertleite et leva la main pour commencer à lancer son premier sort de bataille, attendant qu'il fût complètement chargé avant de défourner les huit ailes sur son dos pour signaler sa volonté de commencer leur combat. Malgré la rapidité avec laquelle l'ancienne valkyrie peut être, elle ne pouvait pas traverser la pièce à temps avant d'être frappée par le Gust Supportif, ce qui la ralentissait davantage. Schwertleite a pris son adversaire sort charge comme une invitation à charger son propre. Attendant aussi, jusqu'à ce que son premier sort ait été chargé avant de défourner ses 6 ailes blanches, révélant aussi son halo angélique. Un guerrier du ciel. Au moins, elle l'espérait. Elle ne voulait pas venir à son adversaire. C'est pas vrai. Elle a vu assez de ce que Teshiko peut faire des années. C'est tout simplement ça. Elle devait juste tenir son sol. Avec Schwertleite restant à portée, Teshiko a profité de cette occasion pour faire quelques dégâts. Si la valkyrie avait décidé de l'inculper, en évitant d'une manière ou d'une autre son sort initial et en se rapprochant suffisamment de la main pour se battre à la main, l'ange vétéran serait dans un désavantage majeur. En comparaison, à moins qu'elle ne veuille risquer de grièvement blesser ou peut-être tuer son partenaire, la femme aux cheveux blancs ne pouvait utiliser son kamas que lorsqu'ils avaient une portée de plusieurs mètres entre elle et sa cible, ce qu'elle avait heureusement maintenant. Prenant plusieurs balançoires avec ses armes de faucille, Schwertleite sentirait les lames frapper à son armure. Alors que des rafales de vent se mirent à tomber sur son corps, la femme leva les bras pour protéger ses parties les plus vitales comme son visage. Avec peu d'options laissées à elle, Schwertleite s'est abaissée au sol, s'accroupissant alors qu'elle utilisait l'un de ses sorts pour créer une couche de glace au-dessus du sol, gelant efficacement ses pieds d'adversaire en place. Avec Teshiko maintenant incapable de bouger ou d'esquiver, la valkyrie a ensuite utilisé sa projection lumineuse pour créer un javelot qu'elle a lancé vers son prochain ange. Avec la lance de la lumière venant vers elle, Teshiko allait instinctivement jeter Whirlwind Blast pour l'envoyer se diriger vers n'importe quelle autre direction qui n'était pas vers sa personne, déposer Supportive Gust afin de le faire. Immédiatement, elle se rend compte de son erreur et met son kamas en position défensive, croisant les lames l'une sur l'autre, pour éviter la prochaine attaque qui vient inévitablement. N'étant plus retenu par la magie de Teshiko, Schwertleite se précipita vers elle, faisant une balançoire aérienne avec son épée, Fragarach, dans l'espoir qu'une seule frappe de l'arme puissante mettrait rapidement fin au combat. Si l'ange aux cheveux blancs avait été un second plus lent, son attaque rivale aurait certainement fait de graves dégâts. Pas assez pour la tuer bien sûr, les deux femmes se retenaient pour qu'une telle chose n'ait pas eu lieu, mais assez pour très probablement l'enlever de leur match. En tenant l'épée au-dessus de sa tête avec les lames de son kamas, Teshiko a utilisé toute sa force pour empêcher la chose de se clacher à travers elle, se laissant ouverte pour la prochaine attaque. Avec son épée déviée, Schwertleite a contre-attaqué en libérant une main de son arme et en envoyant un coup droit vers son adversaire estomac. Ses pieds étant toujours coincés dans la glace, elle s'est effondrée sur le sol, la laissant encore plus désavantagée qu'auparavant. L'ange guerrier a pris un moment pour se réajuster à son nouvel environnement, étant devenu complètement désorienté maintenant qu'elle était allongée sur le sol. Quand elle a regardé en arrière, elle a vu l'épée irlandaise levée et prête à être poussée dans elle. Avec peu de temps pour réfléchir, elle a piraté la glace la maintenant coincée au sol et roulée sur le côté, évitant simplement l'attaque. Par la barbe d'Odin, arrêtez de bouger! » Schwertleite cria dans la frustration, sautant en arrière comme son adversaire s'est remis sur ses pieds. Invoquant un arc de lumière, elle l'a tiré en arrière comme une flèche formée avec elle, enroulée et prête à être tirée en succession rapide. Voyant que son adversaire commençait à tirer un flot d'innombrables flèches dans une tentative de l'empêcher de contre-attaquer, Teshiko laissa sortir un humph, avant de répondre, il est temps de mettre fin à cela..Utiliser à nouveau Whirlwind Blast, elle a commencé à détourner chaque groupe de flèches qui s'est refermé sur elle, marchant lentement vers Schwertleite jusqu'à ce qu'elle soit assez proche pour précipiter la valkyrie. Kamas a pointé vers l'avant, elle a survolé son adversaire, augmentant sa vitesse déjà incroyable avec Supportive Gust, et a accroché les lames de ses armes doubles autour du cou de Schwertleite. Rendement. Le gagnant est Teshiko.

Name: Teshiko Maki Age: Appears 21, she lost count of her real age Former Race: Fallen Angel Race: Angel, eight wings Card: 9 Notable Skills: - Firsthand knowledge of a majority of Earth's history - Experienced flyer from being an angel for so many centuries - Learned how to cook and clean as she had planned to settle down with Kiyoshi Holy Sacrament: A pair of Kamas dubbed Mercy and Forgiveness that she had used back during the Great War of the Three Factions. While they may appear to be a very close quarters weapon, they can actually be used for long range as they have the power to manipulate the air and wind around her to an extent. The farther away her target is though, the less powerful her strikes will become. For example, were she to try and slash at an opponent that was ten feet away, it would be just like she had cut them with her kamas directly. Several miles away though and at best it would be a paper cut and that would be if it even hits. Equipment: N/A Sacred Gear: N/A Magic: Along with having light projection like any other angel, Teshiko also has the ability to control the very winds around her. Some spells include: - Supportive Gust: She can call in a gust of wind that will either slow her opponents or speed herself or an ally up. She can only call in one gust at a time, though she can manipulate its size so it doesn't only affect one person. The larger it is, the weaker the gust will be though. - Kind Breath: She can make the air more breathable for those who may be having trouble getting enough oxygen in their lungs or also dispel any toxins or poisons that she knows are present in the air. This only works if there's enough air in her vicinity to begin with though, meaning she can't just breathe in space or underwater. - Aeronautical Zephyr: She can lift objects into the air or cause them to fly if they are incapable, like a human. - Whirlwind Blast: She can blast an opponent with a strong wind, which will throw them back from her by a few feet, allowing her to create enough distance to not have to fight close quarters unless she has to. Personality: Due to her fall from grace with her fellow angels, Teshiko usually feels great shame being around those who know of her past, growing quiet and hiding herself in the background. Among those who know little of her history though, she is kind and helpful, hoping to see others reach their full potential and wanting to make sure they never fall to their desires as she had. She may not be the most powerful, but she has experience and that is something she wishes to pass onto the new recruits that have been reincarnated over recent years. It should also be noted that, despite the betrayal of Kiyoshi, she still looks back fondly on their time together and hopes that they might meet again someday under better terms. History: Teshiko was one of the original angels that were born before The Great War, having even fought side-by-side with Michael and Gabriel. She did not have nearly as high a rank as the two of them did, a total of eight white-feathered wings had adorned her back in those days, but she had been a highly-valued soldier during the fighting. Over the next several centuries, she would perform her duty as a guardian angel, protecting the humans assigned to her from the possible dangers of both their world and that of the supernatural. Until one day, she met someone that would change her world. Kiyoshi Kurosawa was one of the previously mentioned humans that the angel was assigned to keep safe, but she ended up growing attached to the boy. Eventually, she could no longer keep her desires in check and revealed herself to him as well as her feelings. This was looked down upon by the other angels, but she had not broken any rules set by the divine order so no action was yet taken. That would not last forever. After being together for a couple years, Teshiko and Kiyoshi would finally break one of the rules set by angels, one that the angel refuses to ever admit other than to those she trusts. With this act of heresy, she was turned into a Fallen Angel. Still, she had her Kiyoshi so the now impure woman was fine with this outcome. Fast forward another year, and Teshiko would finally discover the consequences of her actions as Kiyoshi's mortal life was cut short by a fatal crash. If that was not bad enough though, she would discover that he had been in contact with a peerage of demons as they turned him into a reincarnated devil. Now that the man she once loved was a part of a rival faction intent on hunting her down, she returned to the angels she was once excommunicated from and begged forgiveness. Mercy was granted to her and she was allowed to rejoin the side of the holy, though her feelings for her ex do not seem to have at all diminished even after everything he'd done. Other: Theme song

Madelyn s'est roulée dans son lit chaud et confortable pendant que son alarme bipait sans cesse. Chaque cellule de son corps a crié à l'idée de se lever. Cependant, la routine l'a forcée à sauter de son lit superposé et sur le sol. Ça l'a assez ébranlée pour ouvrir les yeux et appuyer sur le bouton de son alarme. Il était terriblement tôt, même les oiseaux ne chantaient pas à sa fenêtre. Cependant, le soleil du matin s'est répandu à travers la fissure dans les rideaux de la chambre à coucher. Maddie a tiré les rideaux en arrière pour voir le soleil se balancer au-dessus de l'horizon. La lumière s'est jetée sur la pièce d'une manière esthétiquement agréable. Yawing, la fille somnolente est passée par-dessus son placard pour choisir une tenue pour la journée. Une crop top semblait être le seul temps approprié dans son placard. On dirait qu'elle devrait faire la lessive bientôt. Tirant une paire de shorts en jean, et une cardigan dans son panier à linge, Madelyn s'est rendue décente. Comme d'habitude, elle se dirige vers la salle de bain avec un bout de maquillage ainsi qu'une brosse à dents et un dentifrice. Son esprit flou a à peine enregistré le fait qu'il y avait des ordures partout dans le hall et la salle de bains. Environ une demi-heure plus tard, Maddie était de retour dans sa chambre et finalement en mesure de se rappeler que c'était samedi. Ça voulait dire qu'elle devait être au théâtre aujourd'hui. Elle a laissé sortir un soupir audible. Pendant qu'elle aimait travailler là-bas, ça voulait dire qu'elle ne pouvait pas rester debout tard et aller à des fêtes ou se faire ivrer la merde. Encore une fois, c'était l'été, donc la plupart des gens n'étaient pas à l'université. Le brunnette a vérifié son téléphone, en regardant toutes ses notifications. Rien de trop hors de la normale. Elle a pris une photo du soleil du matin qui brillait dans sa chambre et l'a postée sur ses réseaux sociaux. Il était temps de partir, alors Maddie a saisi son sac à main et a poussé quelques nécessités qui n'avaient pas déjà été là. Avec un rapide balayage de la pièce, elle a quitté le dortoir, l'enfermant derrière elle. Au mieux, les transports en commun étaient difficiles. Cependant, le système d'autobus scolaire était encore meilleur que la marche. Le bus était presque vide alors qu'il l'ébranlait jusqu'au bord de St. James, mais c'était mieux pour elle. Ça voulait dire qu'elle pouvait écouter de la musique en paix. Malheureusement, le bus était trop ricket pour n'importe quel dessin, mais il lui a permis de penser à la pièce qu'ils allaient mettre ensuite. Peut-être une comédie musicale? La performance précédente n'avait pas été très réussie, ce qui était un peu inquiétant. Cependant, Madelyn était un optimiste à cœur, et ne voulait pas penser à la menace imminente. À l'époque, elle a été déposée dans la ville, elle s'était mise dans une meilleure humeur avec la promesse d'avoir la soirée à elle-même avec un marathon de cinéma. Depuis qu'elle a eu assez de temps, le premier arrêt était un petit café qu'elle fréquentait souvent. L'endroit sentait toujours merveilleux et le personnel était toujours gentil. La glorieuse a commandé un moka latte chaud, et s'est rendue au théâtre, en s'éloignant de la caféine liquide. Quand elle est arrivée au Lawrence Theatre, il y en avait d'autres là-bas. Elle est entrée, et s'est dirigée vers le lieu de réunion habituel. Là, elle a été accueillie avec une vue incroyable. "Oh mon dieu, un chiot!" Elle s'est précipitée vers le mignon chien brun. Évidemment, le chien était plus vieux qu'un chiot, mais dans son esprit, chaque chien était un chiot. Cependant, aussi excitée qu'elle l'était, Madelyn s'est assurée d'appliquer une certaine retenue. Elle a demandé à Billy d'avoir des yeux avides. Malheureusement, les animaux de compagnie n'étaient pas autorisés dans les dortoirs. En outre, son collège n'était pas exactement assez riche pour investir dans les animaux de soulagement du stress. Cela a rendu tous les animaux incroyables et spéciaux pour elle. Le but de la réunion ainsi que les autres personnes là-bas, a disparu de son esprit. Il y avait un chien!

Madelyn ManriquezFemale | 22 | Homosexual 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Madelyn is 5'8" with a pear shaped build. She has a little muscle on her bones, which she improves upon by going to yoga. She especially has nice toned legs and a strong core. However, she has very little upper body strength. During the summer her skin is usually a darker tone, reflecting her Latin american roots, but during the winter, she is easily white passing. She definitely knows how to dress in order to accent her good features since she's self conscious about her flaws. She has a dark birthmark at the base of the back of her neck, and it annoys her to no end, especially since she can't really see it. It's difficult to cover, so she keeps her curly brown hair long and down at all times to help. That along with some imperfect makeup cover it. Madelyn has hazel eyes and a friendly look on her face. A smile is almost always on her face, even if it's occasionally condescending or disapproving. She carries herself without fear, but usually gives off the impression that she's a stereotypical white girl. Madelyn has a sweet tone to her voice, and uses a lot of inflection when she speak. She never uses physical indicators or direct words to express her feelings and meaning. Instead she uses the tone and attitude of her voice. 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Madelyn is a free spirit. She lives, doing whatever is pleasing to her regardless of what society may think. However, she's very protective of her friends. The second someone starts criticizing one of her friends, she will stand up for them. If she sees another person being bullied, she will no doubt step in. Madelyn is very aware of social issues and does her best to make sure everyone is loved. When it comes to work, Madelyn has to come up with a system. She finds the best way to do things and sticks with that. Otherwise, she has difficulties with finishing on time. When it comes to working with others, she can usually be alright as long as they are rational and efficient. If not, they better listen to every command she dishes out. She uses her time wisely and almost always uses all the time she is allowed to get a task done. Being a bit of a perfectionist, Maddie tends to very rarely be satisfied with her work. She works so hard because she is afraid of failure. She doesn't want people to look at her work and be disgusted with it. It's her biggest fear, something that was caused by the expectations placed on her as a young girl by her parents and now by herself. When it comes to close relationships, Madelyn is a very physical person. She loves touching others whether it be clinging to their shoulder, to holding hands, to even cuddling. However, when it comes to meeting cute girls, Maddy turns into a flustered mess and oh boy, there are a lot of cute girls. She tries to be smooth, but always manages to fail at every turn. Sometimes it works out, but it's always an embarrassing story and her friends constantly tease her about it. 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✓ Coffee ✓ Honduran food ✓ Massages (Giving and Receiving) ✓ Plants ✗ The Patriarchy ✗ Fast food ✗ "Free" WiFi ✗ Windowless rooms 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔ Madelyn grew up in a fairly normal middle class home. She was the oldest out of 3 children. Her younger brother and baby sister are quite a bit younger than her since she was actually an accident. Her father is from Honduras and her mother is Caucasian. Every other summer, Maddie would go to Honduras to spend time with her dad's dad's side of the family. Her dad's mom was actually from America, making Madelyn only a quarter Latina American. Because of her father's poor upbringing, Madelyn has always been pushed by her parents to do well in school so she can prosper later in life. Since Maddie loves her parents, she always did her best. Though she wasn't exactly a straight A student, she always tried hard and always ended up with mostly As. In high school, Maddie began theatre in order to boost up her college resume. Since she learned how to make clothes and sew from her grandmother, she joined the costumes department. She eventually grew to love theatre. She loved the people, the reward of a good show, the fun after parties, it was overall a great time. Madelyn went to a college in Indiana since they offered her the most money. She's perusing a major in civil engineering degree in order to appease her parents, but doesn't actually find any pleasure in the field. She is minoring in theatre, though. Because of this, she started to work at Abracadabra! in order to complete her degree. It seemed like Abracadabra was the best choice since it was close and in it's past it was a well known company. However, once Maddie learned that it wasn't as great as it used to be, she was a bit disappointed. Not that that stopped her from actually getting a job there. She's a relatively new addition to the group since she joined 6 months ago. 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔ ● Sewing ● Multitasking ● Drawing ● Learning languages 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ● Compromise ● Impatience ● Remembering things 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Seamstress – Madelyn is usually in charge of or helping with costumes. She has a habit of sketching out plans before putting them together to help her visualize the outfit. Supporting Actor - She can act to a decent degree as a supporting character as long as it's not too strange or overy the top. 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖. ▔▔▔▔ Madelyn really wants to put on Wicked because of all the fun and creativity she can put into the costumes.

Tant que je peux m'en tenir à la gestion de la scène et ne pas danser dessus. Lucas a répondu froidement. Son visage impassible n'a pas semblé particulièrement surpris ou excité par les nouvelles, le seul changement d'expression étant son sourcil droit arqué brusquement vers le haut. Tirant la note du bout des doigts de Charlene, il courut les yeux sur la note de façon critique, la coupant et l'analyseant autant qu'il le pouvait à partir d'un message aussi court. L'altruisme n'était pas un concept auquel Lucas a souscrit. Il y avait toujours des cordes attachées à toute action généreuse, une faveur due qu'ils ne pourraient pas sortir de leur dette. C'était pas trop beau pour être vrai? « Nous n'avons pas assez de temps pour trouver quelque chose d'original », a fait remarquer Lucas, même si c'était l'une des choses les plus évidentes qui pourraient être glissées dans leur situation. Un mois. Même si Lucas était optimiste (ce qu'il n'était pas) ce serait un énorme coup et un pari de mettre ensemble, répéter et parfait une production de do-or-die en un mois. Une pièce de théâtre du collège pouvait certainement fonctionner dans ce délai, mais il s'agissait d'une entreprise de production professionnelle — rien de moins que fantastique était inacceptable. Cela, et le microgestionnisme de Lucas a souvent exigé beaucoup de temps. "Mais cette note dit que nous devrions prendre un risque, donc nous ne devrions rien faire de traditionnel." Il a souligné, tapant le mot risque avec le dos de son doigt. "Je pense que nous devrions rester loin des classiques comme Shakespeare, Wilde, toutes les pièces grecques... Si nous mettons n'importe quelle pièce classique, bien connue ou dieu interdit, les comédies musicales, nous devons le tourner d'une manière ou d'une autre, le rendre différent et citation-unquote brillant." Après avoir fait la motion de citation exagérée avec ses deux mains, Lucas a transmis la note à celui qui était le plus proche de la main. Il tenait à l'espoir mince qu'il n'aurait pas à monter sur scène. À ce moment-là, les chiffres de l'entreprise s'estompaient jusqu'à ce qu'il savait qu'il devait reprendre le jeu quelque part, donc quelque part dans son esprit, il avait déjà démissionné d'être un interprète. Un petit rôle pour Lucas serait idéal, mais si une comédie musicale était choisie... Peu importe ce qu'ils décideraient de faire, Lucas s'était déjà engagé à cent dix pour cent. Tout le monde sur la production aurait besoin de contribuer plusieurs tasses de café pour Lucas pour être en mesure de gérer la scène, mais il était déterminé à faire cela la meilleure production qu'ils aient jamais mise sur.

Male | Twenty | Pansexual 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Icy looks to go with an icy demeanor, Lucas is the embodiment of the 'aloof blonde' stereotype. His well-defined jawline and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass accentuate his angular face. Narrowed green eyes, pink lips and the occasional freckle dotting his face are the only colored features on pale skin. His dirty blonde hair is tousled from him running his hands through it so often. Sometimes you can see dimples during his rare smiles. Lucas' slender frame stands tall and proud. His imposing height of six feet often distracts from the fact that he could afford to put on a couple of pounds and a bit more muscle. He has a confident strut and moves at his own pace on his own terms, not anyone else's. Lucas is rather fidgety and he's seldom seen sitting still — he's always moving, whether it be his foot tapping away restlessly on a beat that only he can hear, or twiddling his pen between his fingers. For lack of a better term, Lucas is the surly owner of a resting bitch face. While it's difficult to deny his conventionally attractive looks, he's hardly the most friendly-looking person in the company. Lucas doesn't smile, he smirks; he doesn't laugh, he snickers. Sarcasm often hangs heavily on his clipped tone, and it often surprises people that his singing voice is actually capable of warmth. 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ They say that laughter is the key to a long life. If that's true, Lucas is fated an early death. Far from cheerful, Lucas is brooding and appears to be carrying more than the necessary amount of stress on his thin shoulders. A realist through and through — though many people will insist on saying pessimist — false hopes and empty reassurances mean little to him. He's not the type of person to say that everything will be alright or that there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Lucas drops the cold hard truth on people, and if that doesn't make him friendly so be it. The higher the optimism, the higher the fall. He's ruthless in his endeavors, working with the mindset that the end justifies the means. He gets results, and that's all that matters. Lucas' confidence borders on arrogance and while he isn't a "my way or the highway" kind of person, he has difficulty delegating tasks because the only way to assure that everything is under control is if he does it himself. He understands the importance of teamwork, cooperation and friendship in theory, but to actually practice those ideals is a different story. Snarky comments and stinging words are his main method of communication. His interactions are as spiky as a porcupine and just as effective at pushing people away. Aside from the sense of camaraderie within the members of a stage production, Lucas is sorely lacking in friends and the skill to make any. Being nice doesn't come naturally to him, and his knee-jerk reaction to everything is to insult it — which doesn't help warm people up to him whatsoever. But say what you will about Lucas, when he praises or acknowledges something, it's genuine and probably took a lot of willpower to say it out loud. Slight flickers of kindness from an otherwise thorny persona keeps him from being a complete jerk (though he's still unabashedly an asshole). Lucas is a rather vain person, extremely concerned with appearances and how he portrays himself. This isn't just limited to his looks, he feels the need to make everything he does seem effortless. Even though he's a hard worker, he refuses to acknowledge or show that he is, preferring to let everyone think he skirts by based on natural talent. There's not really any particular rhyme or reason as to why he's troublesome in this way, he just is and has to go out of his way to project himself as such. Having an emotionally abusive father has left its mark on Lucas, even though his mother whisked him away when he was young. He has a fear of being trapped. As a cleithrophobic, Lucas is not a fan of locked doors or feeling restrained in general. He values freedom highly, and even feeling trapped emotionally can be distressing. Whether it be actually being trapped in a locked room or even being stuffed in an elevator with a lot of people, he's more prone to anxiety attacks when he feels cornered. But at the very core of it all, Lucas is passionate above everything else. He may feign disinterest and purposefully goes out of his way to make it seem like he has better things to do, but on this sinking ship Lucas is the one frantically plugging holes and hauling out the water. Even when every instinct is screaming at him to abandon ship, Lucas has remained, is remaining, and will remain on it as it sinks. Like with almost everything he does, there's a nearly undetectable hint of warmth beneath his actions. He may not ever admit it in person, but he cares. 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✓ Music of all genres ✓ Forts Small enclosed spaces ✓ Horror movies ✓ Staying up into ungodly hours of the night ✗ Feeling restrained ✗ Asking for help ✗ Modern art ✗ Audible mastication 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔ Lucas Olson is no stranger to the life of a starving actor. He grew up in that lifestyle due to his mother who pursued the unglamorous and unfulfilling life of an actress who wanted nothing more than to find her big break. His mother Olivia Olson is first and foremost a dreamer. Chasing after one's dream is often seen as an admirable quality, but in Olivia's case she was a dreamer before a mother. Consequently, her son was usually not at the top of her priorities. While this may sound cruel, there was never any doubt between the two that the love between them was unconditional and true — this was only reinforced and strengthened after Olivia left her emotionally abusive husband, fleeing with a five year old Lucas in her arms. After being constrained for her entire life, Olivia finally found the world at her fingertips. There was finally no one to tell her that she couldn't follow her dream of becoming a musical actress. She did her best to raise Lucas as well as she could, but juggling several part-time jobs while she attended audition after audition was hardly the ideal lifestyle for Lucas. Due to his mother being absent for long periods of time and her scatterbrained tendencies, Lucas developed an anal-retentive personality to make up for his mother's shortcomings. He stepped up to handle the day-to-day chores, organizing and scheduling, everything his mother had trouble doing. If his mom was a dreamer, she needed a realist to keep her grounded and Lucas had to become that person. On the other hand, his mother taught him the the value of freedom, the joys of music and his love for the theater. Many nights were spent at his mother's rehearsals and vocal training. When she couldn't afford a babysitter, he was often brought along and allowed to stay as long as he stayed quiet and unassuming. It eventually became a routine for him to swing by his mother's rehearsals after school and complete his homework while she practiced her lines on the stage. Lucas started taking singing lessons alongside his mother at the young age of ten, after the teacher noted Lucas' natural talent when Olivia brought him along. Though the triumphant nights that he waited for her in the lobby of an auditorium with a bouquet of flowers were few and far between they were among the best memories of Lucas' life. After an entire lifetime of watching and supporting his mother on her journey to become an actress of minor success, it only made sense for Lucas to also join his school's drama board as soon as he was able. Even in middle school, it became immediately apparent that not only did Lucas not have the skill to perform on stage, he didn't want to either. He was far more comfortable pulling the strings from backstage, telling people what to do and making sure everything ran smoothly. For every year since sixth grade, Lucas served as the stage manager for all of the productions put on by the school. During high school, Lucas took on an internship at Abracadabra! as an assistant stage manager at the young age of sixteen. He eventually became promoted to stage manager a few years later once the old stage manager left for greener pastures. Lucas was far too young and inexperienced to fully take on the responsibility, but they were forced to make do — there wasn't any other alternative. As a result Lucas is an unconventional stage manager: a little rough around the edges, but effective nonetheless. Lately, it's been feeling like Lucas' job isn't just managing the stage anymore; he's been forced to climb onto the stage to fill in for various roles that they didn't have enough actors for. For minor roles that require a maximum of one line or two were manageable, but when it came to musical roles... He thought that he had big shoes to fill when he got promoted to stage manager. If only he knew how much bigger his feet would need to be now. 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔ ● Management — Lucas is a perfectionist and has the know-how to make things happen. If you give him something to oversee, he'll make sure it works or die trying. ● Singing — Having been trained in the art since he was a young child, it comes easily to him. It's easier to mold the brain of a young child than an adult. ● Tenacious — Even in the darkest of times, Lucas will persevere and find at least some form of success. He doesn't need to see the light at the end of the tunnel to work with his hands and brain. ● Adaptable — After living a life where he and his mother just barely scraped by, Lucas is used to being thrown curve-balls. If something is unavailable, he doesn't dwell on it and is capable of coming up with a solution — no matter how atypical it may be. 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ● Acting — he's too emotionally stinted to express himself normally. How is he supposed to do that on stage!? ● Delegating — Teamwork doesn't come naturally to Lucas. He has a tendency to pile way too much on his plate, and is stupidly prideful enough to not ask for help. ● Unfriendly — There's no way around it, Lucas is a jerk. Even when he means to say nice things they come out aggressively mean. It's not necessarily the most desirable trait for a healthy production environment or a team leader. 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Stage Manager – Crucial to making the production run smoothly, Lucas' expertise lies in providing necessary leadership and support to the entire crew. Responsible for all of the logistics, he helps runs the rehearsals, communicates and coordinates with the stage crew, works closely with the director in overseeing the entire production, and so much more. Musical Lead – Despite his lack of acting skills, Lucas' exceptional singing talent is undeniable and lands him major roles in the musical productions they put on. His rich tenor tone is flexible and well-suited to a variety of characters, and he can even somewhat emote while singing! Now, if only that applied to every other non-singing scene... 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖. ▔▔▔▔ ● Has decent skill in piano, guitar and percussion – good for an amateur; nowhere near the ability of a professional. ● While Lucas is gifted in solving problems on set and micromanaging his way into a solution, when it comes to personal problems his go-to method of dealing with it is to avoid it completely. Completely useless when it comes to himself, Lucas is content to wallow in self-pity and hide himself from the world — quite literally. When he's upset or anxious, he has the childlike tendency to crawl into a small space and sit there to get away from everyone and everything. If he can't be found, try looking in tiny nooks. ● Sweeney Todd — if he's going to be forced to perform on stage, the role of Anthony would fit quite well for Lucas.

La vue de l'aube se brisant sur l'horizon, pensait Noa, était l'un de ces plaisirs qui valait la peine de perdre le sommeil. Il se tenait sur les marches de sa petite maison, une tasse de café noir de minuit dans une main et un bagel dans l'autre. La lumière pâle du soleil matinal l'a lavé comme de l'eau froide, laver les rêves de son esprit l'amenant entièrement dans l'ici et maintenant. Pendant quelques secondes, il ferma les yeux et tenta de sentir une certaine chaleur sur sa peau, un certain sentiment que le nouveau jour serait plus chaud que la longue nuit. Il dormait à peine, jetait et tournait avant de décider finalement d'abandonner le fantôme et de se lever. Les placards étaient pour la plupart nus, ne contenant que suffisamment de nourriture pour un petit déjeuner modeste, ou plusieurs grands par n'importe qui d'autre. Il était assis à la table de la cuisine dans le noir, mangeant et buvant dans le silence presque complet, n'entendant que le bruit occasionnel d'un oiseau forlorin ou de renard confus. Quand il regarda sa montre battue, il se rendit compte qu'il pourrait aussi bien prendre au soleil du matin, étant donné qu'il l'avait battue en se levant. Alors il s'est assis là, sirotant un café qui pourrait tuer un cheval et se demandant si le 7/11 local serait encore ouvert. Étant l'amant de la nature néo-hippie qu'il était, il dédaignait généralement la place en faveur de la bonté biologique cultivée localement, mais les besoins doivent quand le diable a chassé toute la nourriture. La seule autre chose à son esprit était comment tuer le temps jusqu'à 9h00, quand il était attendu au théâtre du Lawrence pour une réunion d'entreprise. Une partie de lui a pensé à l'exploser, peut-être en grimpant quelques dollars et attraper un bus quelque part ailleurs. Il pouvait aller au nord, se perdre dans les bois pendant quelques jours, ou au sud, il devait y avoir une rivière ou un lac qu'il n'avait pas encore balayé. La voix dans sa tête suggérant ces choses était petite en ce moment et facilement écrasé, mais il savait d'expérience qu'il ne serait pas parti pour longtemps. Sans distraction, sans action, il grandit et grandit jusqu'à ce qu'il n'entende rien d'autre. C'était probablement sa faute, il avait écouté presque exclusivement pendant de nombreuses années, et c'était comme nourrir un animal sauvage; il n'a eu qu'une faim. Pensant à la faim, il avala le dernier de son café, loupa la dernière bouchée du petit déjeuner, se leva et s'étendit. Une série compliquée de pops et de clics plus tard, il s'est secoué et est revenu à l'intérieur. Quoi qu'il ait décidé d'autre, je pourrais aussi bien m'adapter à une course. Même lors d'un petit déjeuner moins qu'excellent, Noa pouvait courir un marathon et être prête pour plus, encore un autre talent ramassé d'années de vie incertaine. Le petit déjeuner était une proposition beaucoup moins certaine du jour au jour le jour, donc il s'était habitué à travailler faim et à utiliser le rêve de déjeuner au pouvoir à travers le travail dur. La course n'était pas plus d'une heure, juste autour du quartier quelques fois, mais elle a mis une vie dans ses membres et a fait bouger le sang. Plus important encore, il a déplacé le jour de ‘si tôt qu'il est pratiquement encore tard' à ‘si vous devez absolument'. Quelques fenêtres s'ouvraient, quelques lumières clignotaient. Certaines personnes se dépêchaient déjà de travailler, d'autres s'agitaient simplement parce que la lumière était maintenant qu'un jour correct, bien que le soleil d'été se lève de façon indécente tôt. Le quartier de Noa's était un ensemble mixte de familles pauvres qui travaillaient manuellement, de familles pauvres qui travaillaient dans la grande ville la plus proche et de familles pauvres qui n'exerçaient aucune sorte d'emploi. Les maisons étaient faites à bon marché, jetées pour le coût minimum disponible quand St. James avait été en plein essor pour la dernière fois. Maintenant, ils n'abritaient que ceux qui passaient peu de temps à la maison, ceux qui ne pouvaient pas se permettre mieux et les artistes qui accepteraient «fixer-uppers». Il n'avait cependant pas l'esprit, c'était une excellente occasion de pratiquer sa menuiserie et une excuse pour porter les vêtements de travail sales à la maison qu'il aurait quand même porté. Il était sur le point de quitter la maison avec un sac à dos, dans l'intention de recharger ses placards avec autant de nourriture qu'il pouvait rapporter, quand son portable bourdonnait. C'était une chose ancienne, le genre d'artefact Nokia qui a fait que les gens vous supposent instantanément être un dealer de drogue et qu'il est votre brûleur. En fait, Noa utilisait le téléphone depuis quelques années et n'avait pas encore vu le point de passer à un téléphone plus moderne. Après tout, celui-ci pourrait envoyer des SMS, passer des appels et même accéder à son compte de messagerie. Qu'est-ce qu'un homme avait besoin de plus pour communiquer? Achetez-moi le déjeuner plus tard. n'ont pas besoin de nourriture pour aller faire du shopping Avec un chanfrein, il jeta le sac et s'enfonça dans un fauteuil battu. Il préfère attendre après la réunion et magasiner avec Ziggy dans le centre-ville (comme c'était le cas) que d'aller à l'endroit local. Elle était si directe, réfléchit-il, apparemment sans crainte de dire ce qu'elle voulait faire et de lui dire où se présenter. C'est probablement pour cette raison qu'ils s'en sont si bien sortis, étant donné son approche de la vie sans but et son désintérêt pour le commandement des autres. Cette voix à l'arrière de son esprit recommença, soulignant qu'elle n'était pas le genre de fille qui attendait qu'il se retourne après un séjour sur la route, mais qu'il l'ignore à nouveau. Au lieu de cela, il a tué un peu de temps autour de la maison pendant un certain temps, en nettoyant quelques morceaux de bois errant et en arrosant la section de la maison où il réparait progressivement les murs endommagés. Toute la maison était quelque chose d'un projet, un qu'il aimait, mais cela a fait un désordre presque constant. Quand le moment est venu, il est sorti, n'a pas pris la peine de verrouiller la porte et est entré dans le garage. Assis là était l'une des autres extravagances; une moto battue et cassée il avait pris pour appeler le Guzzler. Il ne lui ferait pas confiance pour un voyage à travers le pays ou tout ce qui nécessitait une vraie fiabilité, mais c'était un moyen rapide de se taire entre le théâtre et la maison. Et quand il est tombé en panne, il y avait toujours le bus. Aujourd'hui, cependant, il a coopéré et a, à contrecœur, piqué dans la vie. Le voyage au théâtre était sans incident, il était encore assez tôt un samedi qu'il n'y avait pas trop de voitures sur la route. Il a jeté le Guzzler loin dans l'allée derrière le Lawrence et s'est promené dans l'entrée latérale. Il y avait Art assis sur la scène, l'air aussi séduisantment dépouillé que jamais, et Ziggy, debout derrière le réalisateur avec ses bras croisés dans sa position de signature d'impatience légère. Bonjour, chef glorieux. Et à vous aussi Art.

Male | Thirty-Four | Pansexual 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Something about Noa's appearance brings to mind short, sharp adjectives, blunt one word descriptions; feral, wild, imposing, rugged, rocky. It's something about his untamed hair, impenetrable gaze, 6'3" form and built frame that leaves people needing something direct to describe him, like a label to help you deal with all that... thatness. After all, it's not every day you encounter someone who dresses like a fashion conscious 18th century fur trapper, talks like a particularly charming stand-up comedian and moves like a punch-drunk bear. The first thing you notice is just how damn big he is, towering over most people and constructed like a a Biology diagram meant to illustrate where all the muscles are. Then you register that majestic mane of flowing hair, clearly too powerful to be tamed by scissors, clippers or any mundane tools. Depending on the time of year, Noa's locks might be longer or shorter (he likes to cut it down in the summer) but his mighty beard is constant. Then there's his eccentric dress sense that ranges from vaguely sensible, if a bit hippy, right up to gear that mountain hunter would be proud to wear. Years of living on the road have given him a taste for hard wearing clothes that can survive a few scrapes and hold a few patches, and he's yet to find a reason to change styles. A reasonable initial reaction would be to feel a little intimidated by this gargantuan bearded behemoth, cowed by his size and rough appearance. But any such reaction is quickly undercut by how welcoming, warm and wholesome he is. The thick beard is almost always split by a smile, the dark green eyes always marked with a twinkle and the deep booming voice constantly shaking with laughter. It's most obvious in children, who tend to shrink back from Noa when they first see him but after a few minutes of being talked to, mercilessly tickled and tossed in the air (often in front of semi-horrified parents) they're giggling and demanding more playtime. Almost the same thing happens with adults, though there's not as much tossing, tickling or playtime. For the most part. Many years of travelling have given Noa both a hard to place accent (a little brogue here, a little cajun there, a dash of drawl and more than a pinch of husk) and a varied vocabulary. He's never stayed in one country long enough to properly learn the language but he's picked up words and phrases here and there, some of which have crept into his everyday parlance. Despite taking up so much physical space, he tends towards taking up very little verbal space, as his deep voice carries well even at low volume. When enjoying himself a little too much or wrapped up in the moment, it gets louder and louder, to the point it rattles the rafters. 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Noa looks like a bear and, in a sense, he is one. Not one of the wild ones that mauls hikers though, more like one of the massive stuffed cuddly ones that doting parents buy their children. Upon meeting a person, he sizes them up with a frown, a firm handshake and a firmer stare. If he likes what he sees, and he almost always does, he roars with laughter and claps them on the back. And from that moment on, he treats people like they've known each other for years, trading jokes and stories, rough housing ruthlessly and lovingly poking fun. It's a 0-to-100 transition from stranger to friend that some people find terribly disconcerting or even a little alarming. It's very difficult to hold anything against Noa though, especially when he's grinning at your from under his beard and his eyes are daring you to top whatever outrageously false story he's just told. At his core, Noa is a simple man, a man who wants what we all want. He likes having friends around him, laughing loud and long, enjoying those pleasures life has to offer and keeping responsibilities at a distance. If anything, it's that last thing that separates him from other people the most. Your average person doesn't like responsibility, doesn't love being tied down or depended on, but accepts it as a part of life and takes it on the chin. Not so for Noa, who has carefully sidestepped every responsibility more arduous than a supporting role in a failing theatrical company for the better part of a decade. After all, it's hard to be obligated to do anything if you don't stand still for long enough to be asked. His mother imparted much of her own personality onto him and it was her encouragement to be free and happy that Noa took to heart most. It's not commitment phobia, exactly, he's just found it easier to move on than deal with the complicated messiness that comes with being a functioning member of society. As a drifter, you answer to yourself, work when you need money, eat when you're hungry and move when you're bored. When you take root, as he put it, you've got to work all day and answer to everyone from your boss to your spouse to your kids. It would be pretty accurate to attribute this immature view of society to unresolved grief and guilt over the death of his mother, as his wanderings started only a few days after her funeral, but Noa tends to sidestep that sort of question with just as much ease as he does everything else. He'll deflect it with a shrug, a grin and a shove before turning the conversation sharply elsewhere. 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✓ Children, dogs and dogs that are children. ✓ Strong ales, beers and ciders, best with snacks. ✓ Working hard, working out and pushing himself. ✓ The outdoors, the sea, the open road. ✗ Boredom, hunger and discomfort in general. ✗ Airplanes, too small and cramped to ever use. ✗ Juice, sweets and overly sugary foods. ✗ Dust, stale air and the smell of decay. 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔ Born in Hawaii to a native mother and an American-Irish father, Noa grew up near Honolulu in relative comfort. His father, David Wilson, had an office job and his mother, Alanna Inoke, was a school teacher so their little family was well looked after. The younger brother to two independently minded sisters, Noa spent a lot of his youth either joining in with whatever games they wanted to play or finding his own entertainment. The happy family was displaced when Noa was six, however, by a job offer. His father accepted a new position in St. James, Indiana, and packed up the family with him. The new town wasn't as warm, as open or as friendly, at least from the viewpoint of the children, and they initially found it hard to forgive their father for disturbing the fragile balance of the family unit. Still, the kids were all rich in moral fibre and soon bounced back, each finding their own unique groove in their respective habitats. Kimi, the oldest by four years, was full of sass and sarcasm and soon found herself a comfy niche as one of those judgemental popular kids while Inoa, older than Noa by two years, was more of a studious sort. She was hard working and dedicated, rising the top of her class by a mile spending her spare time on the running track. Youngest of the three, Noa was always his mother's favourite and she passed on her adventurous nature to him most of all, making him a ringleader and troublemaker. Many was the time Alanna whisked the family off to some new unknown place for the weekend, leading them off into the wilderness or into the depths of an avant garde art gallery. Things were disrupted again, a decade and a half later, when the results of a long overdue medical test came in for Alanna. She had pancreatic cancer and it was further along than most people recovered from, the young pale faced doctor told them. Kimi had left home and Inoa was on her way out but both returned home with all speed after the diagnosis arrived, flocking to their mother to comfort her. Alanna, however, had other ideas and sent them running back to their lives with a terrible scolding. She wouldn't let them come home to wallow in self-pity and grief, not while they had jobs and families that needed them. She maintained she needed nothing but fresh air, some good food and to be allowed a little peace. Over the next few years, her health slowly left her and the wild spirit that had raised three proud children withered away. She spent a lot of time with her only son in that period, her care entrusted almost entirely to him. Having finished an apprenticeship as a carpenter at the time, he decided to ignore her commands to go out and find something more fulfilling than looking after a dying old woman and stayed by her side. Sometimes she seemed grateful, sometimes she seemed disappointed but she always enjoyed his company. For his part, David kept working long hours and doing all he could to make his wife comfortable. He had always been follower in their relationship and now it seemed he could not follow Alanna any further, leaving him lost. When Alanna died, the funeral was an informal affair that was practically rushed in order to get to the wake. It was what she would've wanted, after all, and the party was one to remember. But within a few days, Noa had bade goodbye to St. James and hit the road, a lightly packed rucksack on his back and endless wanderlust in his heart. His mother's commands that he get going and see the world had been heard, no doubt, and now he was living them. As a big man in good health, he found it wasn't hard to find short term jobs quickly, so long as you didn't mind doing the dirty ones. And so he made his way across the North American continent and then over to the Europe and then Asia. He never stayed still long, only long enough to earn what he needed to make the next leg of the journey before moving on further east, chasing the rising sun. Three years ago, he arrived back in the states, tanned, bearded and bone-tired. His father saw him at the front door and let him in without a word. The two didn't speak much, neither having found the intervening decade's activities particularly effective in dealing with the loss of Alanna. Noa's sisters came and visited, alternating between scolding him for his long absence with nothing but sporadic postcards to reassure them of his good health and asking him to share stories of his adventures. Eventually the conversation turned to what he'd be doing now and they didn't find any of his answers particularly satisfying. One of them, Inoa, told him that things would be the worse for him if he didn't find a job by the end of the week and knowing she wasn't kidding, he grumpily set off to find something. What he found was a struggling theatre company named Abracadabra. He'd never acted before and had no training but he knew how to make things out of wood, could lift whatever needed lifting and had more than enough self confidence to strut the boards once someone taught him the words. Since then, he's spent most of his time with the company, though he's disappeared with little warning a few times and spent a few weeks on the road. Recently, he's abstained from doing that for one reason; a burgeoning relationship with the new set designer Zdzisława "Ziggy" Gniewek. 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔ ● Confidence: Noa has no qualms about putting himself out there, making jokes at his own expense or doing something that takes guts. It helps on stage when playing a role that's more pantomime than theatre or just to overcome the initial stage-fright. ● Strength: Years of hard labour and an enjoyment of the great outdoors have given Noa a herculean physique that he'll happily use for the benefits of others, like helping Billy with the sets or Dominic with moving the piano. ● Charming: Obviously no one person appeals to every other person but Noa comes pretty close. His friendly nature, laid back attitude, lack of shame and, more importantly, lack of fear regarding humiliation make him a hard man to resist liking. ● Crafts: Before deciding that travelling was easier than standing still, Noa was trained as a carpenter and his experience in the years since have given him the gift of putting stuff together on a shoestring budget and in fifteen minutes, if necessary. 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ● Restless: Noa has a hard time sitting still for long periods of time, both literally and metaphorically. He's a fiddler and a mover but also has a string of spontaneous 'trips' to his name that speak to his dislike of stillness or stagnation. ● Rowdy: While he treats everyone like a friend, Noa's version of friendly back and forth isn't suited to everyone. He's physical and loud, so those who prefer not to go close to others or like the quiet are probably going to avoid him. ● Singing: You can sort of act through confidence but getting up on stage and singing takes training, time, skill and dedication. Noa hasn't put in the first two and doesn't have the second two, so he's been barred from singing roles. 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Handyman – If something needs lifting, chances are that Noa can probably lift it. Apart from lifting, moving and other low skill labours, Noa still remembers most of his training as a carpenter from years ago is a dab hand at fixing up the stage or the props. Character Actor – Although he has no training or education, Noa's got enough confidence and sense of humour to play any of the less subtle characters needed for a show. He's got ambitions towards more nuanced roles though, and would like to be a leading man at some point. 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖. ▔▔▔▔ He would love to play Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet and thinks that after some more time in the company that he might make a good Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire.

"Ou mettre une comédie musicale pourrait être une merde complète." Ziggy s'est cognée, croisant ses bras et tapant un rythme discorde contre son coude. Il y a le risque et il y a le suicide. Je pense que nous devrions rester avec une pièce moins connue plutôt qu'une prise originale sur une pièce de merde que les gens ont vu mille fois. De plus, tout le monde n'a pas le talent de chanter. Ziggy a arraché la note de Lucas, le coin s'écroulant avec la force de son pouce. L'ouïe et la vue étaient deux choses différentes – voir c'est croire et tout ce que Shebang – et la plus petite étincelle d'espoir scintille dans une seule chambre de son cœur. Si cette pièce allait bien, absolument parfaite, alors Ziggy pourrait rejeter l'offre d'emploi, pourrait être en mesure de se le permettre, un concept presque étranger au cours de la dernière année. Ziggy a passé la note avant qu'elle ne s'écroule complètement sous son emprise. Mais avec l'espoir vient la peur, aussi. La peur de la déception était forte. Le pessimiste de Ziggy lui dit de baiser ça et de faire des plans pour faire ses valises, prendre le prochain train pour Charlotte Hills, Illinois. Puis la partie entêtée et pleine d'espoir voulait qu'elle essaie son damné plus fort. Mais ce qui surpasse vraiment la peur de la déception, c'est sa peur d'avoir à agir. Une pièce aussi importante que celle-ci? Ziggy passera ses jours et ses nuits au théâtre pour au moins briser sa phobie de la parole publique. C'est pas vrai. En outre, toutes les pièces populaires ont plusieurs sets et je n'ai pas le temps pour cela et je suppose qu'aucun de vous deux ne le font. Il s'agissait cependant d'une courte pause, à peine une assez courte pour qu'un désaccord réel soit exprimé – juste assez longtemps pour qu'elle fasse valoir son point de vue, d'autant plus qu'elle ne s'en souciait pas si d'autres personnes n'étaient pas d'accord. Nous devons nous concentrer sur une petite pièce avec un petit jeu. Je ne suis pas le meilleur avec tirer des jeux d'un chapeau, mais je suggère un inspecteur Appels.

Female | Twenty-nine | Demiromantic-Bisexual Let's get Ziggy with it. 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ There’s always that person who looks exactly like how their personality is – and Ziggy is that person. With her triangular face, slanted eyebrows, and almond eyes, she almost looks a bit like a fox, if you turn your head the right way. Her lips are small and her cupid’s bow strong; and when she smiles, it’s charmingly twisted, like she knows something you don’t. Ziggy is of mid-height (being 5’6”) and isn’t particularly muscular or weak. However, her hips flare out slightly and her thighs are strong and thick – Ziggy is really proud of her thighs. Ziggy puts in a lot of effort to make it look like she didn’t put any effort in, as confusing as it sounds. Every two days, she shaves the left side of her head clean and smooth, making sure to not to have jagged edges or a missed patch. Her short hair, which is normally a frizzy and curly nightmare, has been straightened and mussed with hair gel – no matter how much she straightens it, though, it will always be the slightest bit wavy. Before bed, Ziggy cleans her face carefully to keep her skin smooth – except her hands are a lost cause, the palms calloused from messing around on set all day. The only heavy makeup she likes to wear is around her eyes, preferring her eyeliner in the typical cat-eye style and smoky eyeshadow – though she tends to smudge her makeup the slightest so it doesn’t look immaculate. She also makes sure to always smell nice – she likes the heavy, non-flowery bottled eucalyptus scent. Ziggy stands tall and straight, but still relaxed. She never slouches, but her posture can’t be described as rigid because she seems to be perfectly confident and at home. Ziggy tends to cross her arms a lot when standing still, or tucking her hands in her pockets – back and front. She doesn’t like the feeling of her arms just hanging around. Ziggy has an intimidating walk, as silly as it sounds, because she tends to walk like she’s on a mission – fast, but not hurried, and determined. Ziggy could be considered as someone stony as she typically doesn’t give anything away through her body or her voice. Her body tends to always be straight and never quiver under attention or show discomfort, and her raspy voice is deadpan. Any emotion that could be conveyed through her voice is killed by the fact that everything she says sounds like an insult or sarcasm – it’s really hard giving compliments for her. Ziggy has “Przemyslaw” tattooed on the side of her right rib cage and “Ciekawość to pierwszy stopień do piekła” tattooed on her left hip. Ziggy has her ears pierced three times and a belly ring, and she hates the idea of piercing her face – to each their own, though. She has a burn scar on her left shoulder blade that travels down to a few inches about her elbow and is the reason why she only wears long sleeves or jackets. While Ziggy enjoys to appear punk rock, she also likes to be vaguely professional. Ziggy tends to wear tight dark jeans, heeled boots, and a Henley or v-neck under a leather jacket. 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Ziggy has always been the rebellious type – she didn’t exactly like being told what to do. She had a natural hate for authority, which led her to do quite the opposite as a teenager and got her into a whole lot of trouble. Mischievous, Ziggy is always concocting pranks and plans to pull something over someone – it’s something she’s been doing since she was a little girl. But it wasn’t just pranks that Ziggy would plan; sometimes Ziggy just liked to get into trouble, do things she shouldn’t be doing, and she had to lie to cover it up most of the time. Covering her tracks quickly built up her lying abilities, giving Ziggy a sly quality in her that leaves her glib and sharp-witted. Most of the time, Ziggy just uses her slyness to excuse her slight laziness. Acerbic sarcasm and gruff threats of violence are Ziggy’s primary form of communication. That isn’t to say she’s a woman of little words, Ziggy likes to think she talks the average amount as other people. Rather, Ziggy has a problem with communicating how she really feels to others and would rather cover up her vulnerabilities and awkwardness towards the genuine with harsh rebukes. Ziggy is quite the confident person, and is satisfied with her personality and looks; however, she has a deep and crippling fear. When in front of a group of people, she ends up speechless and has even fainted once or twice. The idea of a rebel brings to mind a grungy girl, hair mussed and completely disorganized. And, maybe, in appearance, Ziggy fits that. But that’s where it ends. Because, you see, Ziggy is a micromanager. Everything in her life has to be absolutely perfect – everything in her house is organized; she color codes her closet, organizes her books by author’s name, etcetera etcetera. She can be quite the control freak and tends to come off as bossy when she tells people what to do all the time when it comes to work. A born perfectionist, people often get exasperated by her need to have everything flawless. If something isn’t perfect, Ziggy becomes neurotic about it and will chew her nails to the quick. It’s safe to say, that when it comes to working in a team, Ziggy would much rather take charge and have others follow. 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✓ Mid-afternoon naps ✓ Cake ✓ Hot chocolate ✓ Big dogs ✗ Wet socks ✗ Funerals ✗ Long hair ✗ Sports 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔ Zdzisława Gniewek was five when her family immigrated to Pennsylvania, USA. Zdzisława had found the whole move exhausting, even at five years old she remembers that – it was a hard move, her parents had no money to buy a good house, only a shitty apartment with leaks and gross neighbors, and her little three-year-old brother, Przemyslaw, was whining and crying most of the time. Zdzisława was enrolled in kindergarten and, predictably, hated it – especially since she couldn’t speak a lick of English and understood jack shit. And when she wasn’t at school, she was in their rundown apartment watching Przemyslaw while both her parents worked – they didn’t have enough money to afford a babysitter and knew no one who would watch their children. So, Zdzisława did the babysitting – and, because she was so young, the door was locked and bolted out of their reach so Zdzisława and Przemyslaw could neither get kidnapped or leave. Mostly, all they did was play puzzles and eat cereal. Zdzisława was a curious child and often tricked her little brother, Przemyslaw, into joining her in her little schemes. One day, after school when Zdzisława was seven and Przemyslaw was five, Zdziława had talked her brother into playing a game with her. She dubbed the game “Supervillian.” In the game, Zdzisława would play the supervillain and would put her stuffed animals in precarious situations and Przemyslaw had to stop her in creative ways before time ran out. Mostly it was simple things, like stopping her from flushing the stuffed bear, or from ripping it apart. However, this particular afternoon, Zdzisława wanted to up the game. At the time, she was learning about the dangers in fire in school (through the two years she has been in America, she has grasped the basics of English, though she was far behind her peers). So, she wanted to see what it would be like if her stuffed elephant was set on fire. Her parents were working and it was just the two of them – it was really easy for Zdzisława to find the lighter that her mom used for smoking. Her brother didn’t save the elephant on time. The elephant went up in flames and Zdzisława dropped it in a panic when it burnt her fingers. She left the room and went to the bathroom to grab some water and put it out, but by the time she got back her entire mattress was on fire and it was spreading to her curtains and she tried to throw water on it but it didn’t do a damn thing. Zdzisława grabbed Przemyslaw and pushed him to the ground, made him crawl in front of her to the door. Except, it was bolted – like it usually is, so they didn’t go out. Zdzisława banged on the door for help, and started yelling to get attention. Her neighbors stirred at the smell of smoke and she could hear them panicking and leaving outside. The fire was starting to creep towards the door and so she dragged Przemyslaw, who was coughing and had rattled breath, into the bathtub and ran water – hoping it would keep the fire away. She then left him there and went to the windows. Most of them were latched except for one, and that had fire burning away the wallpaper and carpet. She reached a hand through anyways and tried to wriggle the window open to get her and her brother out. Her sleeve caught fire though and she stumbled away, smacking at her shoulder and arm, trying to get the fire off. Eventually the pain became too much and she blacked out. Later, she woke up in the hospital with 3rd degree burns on her shoulder and arm and to the news that her brother was in a coma from carbon monoxide poisoning. Two weeks later, he died. When Zdzisława healed, they moved from Pennsylvania to St. James, Indiana. Zdzisława went to a new school and became withdrawn and uncommunicative to her peers. Though, her classmates never stopped trying to befriend her – they started to call her “Ziggy” since no one could actually pronounce her name. Most of the time, Ziggy struggled in school till the second grade due to her limited knowledge in English, until her teacher started to keep her in at recess and after school to teach her English. Of course, she didn’t learn English in a year, but continued to receive lessons from her second-grade teacher even after she had graduated elementary school and in the first year of middle school. By her freshman year in high school, Ziggy had lost her accent and was on par with her peers in English. In her sophomore year of high school, Ziggy’s English class took a field trip to the local theater. They saw Antigone and in that moment, Ziggy fell in love with theater. However, she had developed a fear of public speaking when she was a child due to her limited English at the time, and so she never chased that pipedream. Instead, she went on to become an interior designer for a company and wasted behind a desk in Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, designing the insides of malls and stores for her company. Ziggy never did anything notable in that time period – never married, never had a serious boyfriend or girlfriend, just stood still in her small apartment and at her ugly ass office desk. Until the anniversary of Przemyslaw’s death in 2007, when she proceeded to get drunk off her ass after visiting her old home and destroying her bastard of a boss’s office in the middle of the night. She was obviously fired the next day, and her work reputation completely destroyed – no other companies would hire her. Ziggy left to go visit her parents in Indiana, where they remained in St. James. For an entire week, she laid in her pajamas, ate cereal, and watched mindless TV. To cheer her up, her aging mother dragged her to a small production of Antigone by the small theater company in the town. The next day, Ziggy impulsively turned in her resume to them and officially joined the company. 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔ ● Set Designing ● Organizing ● Scheming ● Lying 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ● Fear of public speaking ● Lack of acting experience ● Bad teamwork skills 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Set Designer - Ziggy works on the creation of the theatre set; she works on the painting and the building of the fake buildings and the general visual aesthetics. Supporting actress - Ziggy works mostly as a background character with very, very, very little lines due to her fear of public speaking. However, Ziggy dreams of overcoming her public speaking problem and breaking out as one of the lead actresses. 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖. ▔▔▔▔ Chicago - She would like to play Velma Kelly, really, really badly.

Charlene n'était pas pressée. Sa seule prétention à la célébrité était ses entrées modelement tardives, parce que le fait d'avoir la discipline de se réveiller tôt le matin était pour les enthousiastes et les fous. Personne dans leur bon esprit ne serait optimiste au sujet d'Abracadabra!S chances. Assister aux rencontres régulières alors qu'ils n'avaient pas un spectacle courant dans le théâtre local ou les écoles secondaires était la définition du dictionnaire de futile, mais CJ n'a pas manqué un seul, même si elle se contentait de passer par les mouvements. Comme tous les autres jours, elle sortait du lit, descendait jusqu'à la ligne de lavage pour ramasser ses vêtements propres (si raides), et trébuchait sur le chemin du jardin pendant qu'elle tirait encore ses mocassins. À la fin de sa bataille avec les mauvaises herbes qui tiraient à travers les fissures de la pierre était la porte, et tout comme il crampait ouvert, tante Joséphine se penchait par la fenêtre. C'est ça! Pouvez-vous prendre les courses sur votre chemin de retour à la maison? Charlene a dit : « Nous le rembourserons quand Charlotte aura son chèque, » dans la pause qui a suivi. Comme si sur le signal, ce sont les mots suivants de sa bouche tante. J'ai compris, Jo, Charlene a répondu par une vague dédaigneuse alors qu'elle descendait les trottoirs fissurés. Ce n'était pas loin d'arriver au théâtre. Elle était l'un des acteurs qui vivait le plus près du bâtiment, autre que l'Art. (Là où le directeur vivait réellement, sinon dans le théâtre lui-même, était un mystère non résolu – il ne comptait pas.) De la fenêtre de sa chambre, elle pouvait voir le toit, habituellement un bloc non éclairé contre le ciel la nuit. Elle était là en cinq minutes, et il semblait beaucoup mieux en plein jour. Avant d'entrer, CJ a largué sa cigarette et l'a écrasée sous son pied à l'endroit même où des centaines d'autres fumeurs l'avaient eue au cours des derniers mois. Ce n'était pas comme si St. James avait des nettoyeurs de rue, ou que quelqu'un se souciait assez de regarder vers le bas de temps en temps pour se sentir dégoûté d'eux-mêmes. Je ne sais pas pourquoi vous êtes tous si excités, elle a grondé, peignant ses doigts à travers les cheveux et redressant les rides dans sa flanelle. C'est juste un chien. Un fantôme d'un sourire a traversé son visage. Un chien mignon, peut-être. Nous avons une raison d'être excités, autre que le chien de Billy, charmant bien qu'il soit, l'art interrompu. Le réalisateur avait à peine bougé de sa place sur le bord de la scène, les jambes s'accroupissaient encore de côté en côté comme un pendule. Oh, il avait dit ses 'hellos' et 'bons matins' mais CJ était convaincu que l'homme n'existait pas jusqu'à ce qu'il ait quelque chose à produire, que ce soit une pièce de théâtre ou une comédie musicale. Vous ne le savez pas encore. Et en parlant de, mesdames et messieurs... Il s'est levé, agitant une carte de couleur crème et a déclaré, "Nous avons été sponsorisés. Parrainé! Nous! Non pas que j'aie jamais eu de doute sur notre succès, bien sûr. Les pouvoirs qui ont décidé que nous sommes dignes d'intérêt, et Abracadabra! a clairement été donné une chance. Ici, ici, passez-le autour de lui. » Il l'a presque mis dans les mains de Charlene, étant donné qu'elle s'était assise sur le grand récipient de stockage par l'avant de la scène qui était le plus proche de l'Art. Les yeux de Charlene s'élargissaient alors qu'elle lisait le texte pourpre fleuri, incroyable comme il était. Si c'était le 1er avril, ça aurait fait une bonne farce. Avec un peu de précipitation, elle l'a transmise à la personne suivante (même si cela signifiait qu'elle devait se faufiler jusqu'à l'endroit où se trouvaient les gens dog-mads). Elle a tapoté Madelyn sur l'épaule avec la carte comme elle a changé de mains et dans une étape chuchotement commenté, Au moins il semble légitime, et il n'exagère pas un petit don de cul cette fois. Art continua comme s'il ne l'avait pas entendue. Elle savait qu'il l'avait fait. Nous allons avoir besoin de beaucoup de choses. Un mois n'est pas long pour mettre en place une production, et nous n'en aurons qu'une – c'est-à-dire une chance. Comme vous le savez tous, c'est une démocratie! Qu'est-ce qu'on met? Nous n'avons pas les chiffres auxquels nous avions l'habitude, ni le prestige. Qui veut travailler sur la publicité de notre nouveau spectacle? Lucas, tu auras quelque chose à gérer sur scène! Bien sûr, ceux-là comptent sur nous en train de choisir quelque chose d'abord. Suggestions, dames et messieurs, suggestions! » Normalement, Art se cogne les doigts pour essayer d'apporter de la vie dans la discussion était digne d'un œil-roulement, mais Charlene trouvait son enthousiasme beaucoup trop infectieux, même si elle essayait de ne pas le laisser montrer sur son visage. Ça pourrait faire demi-tour. Mais ça n'arrivera pas.

Full NameGender | Age (14+) | Sexuality 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Your text here. At least one paragraph of description to go alongside the real-life faceclaim your character. Detail the basics (hair colour, build, etc.) but also their demeanor, posture, voice quality, and other key characteristics. 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Your text here. At least two or three substantial paragraphs of your character's... well, character. You may find it useful to bold key-words. Include their outward attitudes towards others, perhaps mention how well they work in a team, and be sure to make note of their most crippling fear. 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✓ ✓ ✓ ✓ ✗ ✗ ✗ ✗ 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔ Your text here. At least three or four paragraphs on your character's life thus far. Definitely include how many years of experience they have in theatre and justify their existing skills, but remember that Abracadabra! has only been in existence for 10 years, and your characters are unlikely to have joined before Y2K. It is also 2008. 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔ ● What is your character good at - generally to do with theatre, but can expand to other skills. ● Roles, parts and responsibilities are likely to come down to how good your characters are at certain things. ● Social aptitudes should also go here. Is your character good at lying? There's a talent right there. ● Maximum of four. Must be justified by history. 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ● What is your character not good at? ● If something goes wrong for your character (via GM roll) it might have something to do with one of these... ● Minimum of three. Must be substantial and not cop-outs. 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Role – Explanation. What is your character's main function in the theatre group, or rather, what are they most qualified to do. Is your character good at being comic relief? Is your character a lead actor? A supporting actor? Singer? Are they a snazzy dancer? Max of 2. 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖. ▔▔▔▔ Anything else.

Le premier bruit que Dominic a fait alors que ses yeux s'ouvraient était une sorte de gémissement guttural, celui que vous faites quand vous étiez profondément endormi il y a seulement une seconde, mais maintenant vous avez été déchiré dans le monde éveillé et vous savez juste que vous ne pouvez pas retourner en arrière. Il n'a pas bougé, il a juste regardé le blanc blanc de son plafond et a clignoté lentement. Le nuage de sommeil se retirait rapidement et le jour, avec ses soucis d'accompagnement, se déplaçait. Par son bras droit il y avait un doux mewing et il regarda vers le bas pour voir Toretto, son chat, se branlant la main. Il ne pouvait que vouloir l'attention, cependant, comme Dominic était sûr qu'il n'y avait plus de nourriture pour lui. Le second bruit que Dominic a fait était un mélange d'un gaz et d'une malédiction, ses yeux ayant trouvé les mains impitoyables de l'horloge pointant vers Vous devriez déjà être parti plutôt que Pas de ruée. Il a jeté les couvertures, a failli envoyer Toretto voler, et brouillé vers la douche. Dans et dehors en moins de trois minutes, il a essayé de se combiner pour se replonger en répandant désespérément tout ce qu'il pouvait mettre la main sur un peu de pain. Moins de dix minutes après son réveil, il fit signe d'adieu à Toretto et sortit dans la rue, ses cheveux encore mouillés et sa bouche pleine de petit déjeuner improvisé. Le troisième bruit fait par Dominic était apologétique, une excuse bourdonnée comme il se laissait tranquillement entrer juste avant l'annonce d'Art. Le trajet en bus avait été étonnamment bondé et il s'est rendu compte en courant pour l'attraper que sa tête était horriblement froide et qu'il aurait peut-être oublié de verrouiller la porte, de sorte que son humeur était un peu plus grise que d'habitude quand il est finalement arrivé au théâtre. Il s'est senti chanceux que Art ait été en train de donner quelque chose d'un discours éveillant à la compagnie quand il s'est laissé entrer, comme personne ne pouvait attirer l'œil d'un groupe de personnes loin de lui tout à fait comme le directeur. Quand Art a demandé des suggestions, cependant, Dominic n'a pas fait de bruit. Il a attendu que quelqu'un d'autre parle et a entendu Lucas dire sa pièce d'abord. Puis leur doux géant, Noa, a ri, a balancé un doigt sur le jeune homme et a dit : « Quand a-t-on mis quelque chose de classique pour la dernière fois? La plupart des choses que nous faisons de nos jours sont pratiquement pantomime, pas exactement tragédie grecque. Si vous êtes à la recherche de suggestions par l'Art, j'aime Lucas's point sur le risque. Nous pourrions faire pire que de mettre sur quelque chose que les gens savent mais promettent de le faire d'une nouvelle manière. Du moins de cette façon, nous pouvons être sûrs que les gens sauront ce que nous mettons sur, mais alors il valait mieux être correctement nouveau, voyez ce que je veux dire? Le quatrième bruit que Dominic a fait était le premier ensemble de mots appropriés qu'il avait prononcé ce jour-là, une phrase cohérente serrée correctement que d'autres personnes pourraient effectivement être en mesure de comprendre. Pourquoi pas une comédie musicale? Je sais que certaines personnes ici ne les aiment pas, il a clairement évité de regarder Lucas, mais ce serait un risque, comme le demandent les Arts, un risque. Ils sont plus difficiles à mettre en scène, prendre plus de répétitions et voudrait dire pousser tout le monde beaucoup plus loin. C'est un risque, mais... peut-être que ce serait brillant.C'était un discours exceptionnellement long pour Dominic, comme le jour où les mots avaient été sauvés jusqu'alors. Quand il a fini de parler, il a regardé vers le bas presque inconsciemment, évitant d'attraper n'importe qui des yeux.

Male | Thirty-Four | Pansexual 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Something about Noa's appearance brings to mind short, sharp adjectives, blunt one word descriptions; feral, wild, imposing, rugged, rocky. It's something about his untamed hair, impenetrable gaze, 6'3" form and built frame that leaves people needing something direct to describe him, like a label to help you deal with all that... thatness. After all, it's not every day you encounter someone who dresses like a fashion conscious 18th century fur trapper, talks like a particularly charming stand-up comedian and moves like a punch-drunk bear. The first thing you notice is just how damn big he is, towering over most people and constructed like a a Biology diagram meant to illustrate where all the muscles are. Then you register that majestic mane of flowing hair, clearly too powerful to be tamed by scissors, clippers or any mundane tools. Depending on the time of year, Noa's locks might be longer or shorter (he likes to cut it down in the summer) but his mighty beard is constant. Then there's his eccentric dress sense that ranges from vaguely sensible, if a bit hippy, right up to gear that mountain hunter would be proud to wear. Years of living on the road have given him a taste for hard wearing clothes that can survive a few scrapes and hold a few patches, and he's yet to find a reason to change styles. A reasonable initial reaction would be to feel a little intimidated by this gargantuan bearded behemoth, cowed by his size and rough appearance. But any such reaction is quickly undercut by how welcoming, warm and wholesome he is. The thick beard is almost always split by a smile, the dark green eyes always marked with a twinkle and the deep booming voice constantly shaking with laughter. It's most obvious in children, who tend to shrink back from Noa when they first see him but after a few minutes of being talked to, mercilessly tickled and tossed in the air (often in front of semi-horrified parents) they're giggling and demanding more playtime. Almost the same thing happens with adults, though there's not as much tossing, tickling or playtime. For the most part. Many years of travelling have given Noa both a hard to place accent (a little brogue here, a little cajun there, a dash of drawl and more than a pinch of husk) and a varied vocabulary. He's never stayed in one country long enough to properly learn the language but he's picked up words and phrases here and there, some of which have crept into his everyday parlance. Despite taking up so much physical space, he tends towards taking up very little verbal space, as his deep voice carries well even at low volume. When enjoying himself a little too much or wrapped up in the moment, it gets louder and louder, to the point it rattles the rafters. 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Noa looks like a bear and, in a sense, he is one. Not one of the wild ones that mauls hikers though, more like one of the massive stuffed cuddly ones that doting parents buy their children. Upon meeting a person, he sizes them up with a frown, a firm handshake and a firmer stare. If he likes what he sees, and he almost always does, he roars with laughter and claps them on the back. And from that moment on, he treats people like they've known each other for years, trading jokes and stories, rough housing ruthlessly and lovingly poking fun. It's a 0-to-100 transition from stranger to friend that some people find terribly disconcerting or even a little alarming. It's very difficult to hold anything against Noa though, especially when he's grinning at your from under his beard and his eyes are daring you to top whatever outrageously false story he's just told. At his core, Noa is a simple man, a man who wants what we all want. He likes having friends around him, laughing loud and long, enjoying those pleasures life has to offer and keeping responsibilities at a distance. If anything, it's that last thing that separates him from other people the most. Your average person doesn't like responsibility, doesn't love being tied down or depended on, but accepts it as a part of life and takes it on the chin. Not so for Noa, who has carefully sidestepped every responsibility more arduous than a supporting role in a failing theatrical company for the better part of a decade. After all, it's hard to be obligated to do anything if you don't stand still for long enough to be asked. His mother imparted much of her own personality onto him and it was her encouragement to be free and happy that Noa took to heart most. It's not commitment phobia, exactly, he's just found it easier to move on than deal with the complicated messiness that comes with being a functioning member of society. As a drifter, you answer to yourself, work when you need money, eat when you're hungry and move when you're bored. When you take root, as he put it, you've got to work all day and answer to everyone from your boss to your spouse to your kids. It would be pretty accurate to attribute this immature view of society to unresolved grief and guilt over the death of his mother, as his wanderings started only a few days after her funeral, but Noa tends to sidestep that sort of question with just as much ease as he does everything else. He'll deflect it with a shrug, a grin and a shove before turning the conversation sharply elsewhere. 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✓ Children, dogs and dogs that are children. ✓ Strong ales, beers and ciders, best with snacks. ✓ Working hard, working out and pushing himself. ✓ The outdoors, the sea, the open road. ✗ Boredom, hunger and discomfort in general. ✗ Airplanes, too small and cramped to ever use. ✗ Juice, sweets and overly sugary foods. ✗ Dust, stale air and the smell of decay. 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔ Born in Hawaii to a native mother and an American-Irish father, Noa grew up near Honolulu in relative comfort. His father, David Wilson, had an office job and his mother, Alanna Inoke, was a school teacher so their little family was well looked after. The younger brother to two independently minded sisters, Noa spent a lot of his youth either joining in with whatever games they wanted to play or finding his own entertainment. The happy family was displaced when Noa was six, however, by a job offer. His father accepted a new position in St. James, Indiana, and packed up the family with him. The new town wasn't as warm, as open or as friendly, at least from the viewpoint of the children, and they initially found it hard to forgive their father for disturbing the fragile balance of the family unit. Still, the kids were all rich in moral fibre and soon bounced back, each finding their own unique groove in their respective habitats. Kimi, the oldest by four years, was full of sass and sarcasm and soon found herself a comfy niche as one of those judgemental popular kids while Inoa, older than Noa by two years, was more of a studious sort. She was hard working and dedicated, rising the top of her class by a mile spending her spare time on the running track. Youngest of the three, Noa was always his mother's favourite and she passed on her adventurous nature to him most of all, making him a ringleader and troublemaker. Many was the time Alanna whisked the family off to some new unknown place for the weekend, leading them off into the wilderness or into the depths of an avant garde art gallery. Things were disrupted again, a decade and a half later, when the results of a long overdue medical test came in for Alanna. She had pancreatic cancer and it was further along than most people recovered from, the young pale faced doctor told them. Kimi had left home and Inoa was on her way out but both returned home with all speed after the diagnosis arrived, flocking to their mother to comfort her. Alanna, however, had other ideas and sent them running back to their lives with a terrible scolding. She wouldn't let them come home to wallow in self-pity and grief, not while they had jobs and families that needed them. She maintained she needed nothing but fresh air, some good food and to be allowed a little peace. Over the next few years, her health slowly left her and the wild spirit that had raised three proud children withered away. She spent a lot of time with her only son in that period, her care entrusted almost entirely to him. Having finished an apprenticeship as a carpenter at the time, he decided to ignore her commands to go out and find something more fulfilling than looking after a dying old woman and stayed by her side. Sometimes she seemed grateful, sometimes she seemed disappointed but she always enjoyed his company. For his part, David kept working long hours and doing all he could to make his wife comfortable. He had always been follower in their relationship and now it seemed he could not follow Alanna any further, leaving him lost. When Alanna died, the funeral was an informal affair that was practically rushed in order to get to the wake. It was what she would've wanted, after all, and the party was one to remember. But within a few days, Noa had bade goodbye to St. James and hit the road, a lightly packed rucksack on his back and endless wanderlust in his heart. His mother's commands that he get going and see the world had been heard, no doubt, and now he was living them. As a big man in good health, he found it wasn't hard to find short term jobs quickly, so long as you didn't mind doing the dirty ones. And so he made his way across the North American continent and then over to the Europe and then Asia. He never stayed still long, only long enough to earn what he needed to make the next leg of the journey before moving on further east, chasing the rising sun. Three years ago, he arrived back in the states, tanned, bearded and bone-tired. His father saw him at the front door and let him in without a word. The two didn't speak much, neither having found the intervening decade's activities particularly effective in dealing with the loss of Alanna. Noa's sisters came and visited, alternating between scolding him for his long absence with nothing but sporadic postcards to reassure them of his good health and asking him to share stories of his adventures. Eventually the conversation turned to what he'd be doing now and they didn't find any of his answers particularly satisfying. One of them, Inoa, told him that things would be the worse for him if he didn't find a job by the end of the week and knowing she wasn't kidding, he grumpily set off to find something. What he found was a struggling theatre company named Abracadabra. He'd never acted before and had no training but he knew how to make things out of wood, could lift whatever needed lifting and had more than enough self confidence to strut the boards once someone taught him the words. Since then, he's spent most of his time with the company, though he's disappeared with little warning a few times and spent a few weeks on the road. Recently, he's abstained from doing that for one reason; a burgeoning relationship with the new set designer Zdzisława "Ziggy" Gniewek. 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔ ● Confidence: Noa has no qualms about putting himself out there, making jokes at his own expense or doing something that takes guts. It helps on stage when playing a role that's more pantomime than theatre or just to overcome the initial stage-fright. ● Strength: Years of hard labour and an enjoyment of the great outdoors have given Noa a herculean physique that he'll happily use for the benefits of others, like helping Billy with the sets or Dominic with moving the piano. ● Charming: Obviously no one person appeals to every other person but Noa comes pretty close. His friendly nature, laid back attitude, lack of shame and, more importantly, lack of fear regarding humiliation make him a hard man to resist liking. ● Crafts: Before deciding that travelling was easier than standing still, Noa was trained as a carpenter and his experience in the years since have given him the gift of putting stuff together on a shoestring budget and in fifteen minutes, if necessary. 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ● Restless: Noa has a hard time sitting still for long periods of time, both literally and metaphorically. He's a fiddler and a mover but also has a string of spontaneous 'trips' to his name that speak to his dislike of stillness or stagnation. ● Rowdy: While he treats everyone like a friend, Noa's version of friendly back and forth isn't suited to everyone. He's physical and loud, so those who prefer not to go close to others or like the quiet are probably going to avoid him. ● Singing: You can sort of act through confidence but getting up on stage and singing takes training, time, skill and dedication. Noa hasn't put in the first two and doesn't have the second two, so he's been barred from singing roles. 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Handyman – If something needs lifting, chances are that Noa can probably lift it. Apart from lifting, moving and other low skill labours, Noa still remembers most of his training as a carpenter from years ago is a dab hand at fixing up the stage or the props. Character Actor – Although he has no training or education, Noa's got enough confidence and sense of humour to play any of the less subtle characters needed for a show. He's got ambitions towards more nuanced roles though, and would like to be a leading man at some point. 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖. ▔▔▔▔ He would love to play Mercutio in Romeo and Juliet and thinks that after some more time in the company that he might make a good Stanley Kowalski in A Streetcar Named Desire.

Billy n'est pas une personne du matin. Il avait l'habitude d'être, de croire ou non, bien que ce fût il y a longtemps, et une habitude cultivée par nécessité. De retour au Kentucky, il devait se lever à l'aube juste pour préparer le petit déjeuner pour ses frères et sœurs, s'assurer qu'ils se brossent les dents, et si nécessaire, les traîner à l'école. Même sans réveil, il se réveillait toujours à l'aube. Mais après avoir si longtemps vécu loin de la maison, il a depuis longtemps grandi hors de l'habitude. Ces jours-ci, la plupart de ses matins sont passés à essayer de naviguer dans l'appartement avec les yeux serrés fermé, à peine conscient alors qu'il infirme encore une autre gueule de bois qui éclate le cerveau. Ce n'est qu'après avoir descendu une tasse de café noir brûlant que Billy retrouve un semblant d'humanité, mais il a encore l'impression qu'il y a un pic de glace logé dans son lobe frontal, et qu'il ne peut pas aider, mais il laisse sortir un gémissement pitoyable à la douleur qui frappe à travers son crâne, enterrer son visage dans ses mains. Il suppose que c'est vrai comment les choses que tu aimes finissent par te blesser le plus, et garçon, a-t-il adoré cette bouteille de Old No. 7. Ici, à St James, Billy pouvait se permettre d'avoir un appartement pour lui. Ce n'était pas l'endroit le plus agréable, mais c'était assez près du centre-ville pour compenser les lacunes – surtout, de toute façon. Bien sûr, il y avait la tache de moisissure suspectement chaude qui grinçait son chemin à travers le mur en face de la cuisine, le démon absolu d'un propriétaire, et aussi comment il a dû soulever-slash-se remettre la porte de la salle de bains à chaque fois qu'il voulait la verrouiller. Le loyer était bon marché, et c'est ça. Au moins, il n'avait plus besoin de partager un appartement avec un tas de pierres; il en avait assez d'avoir tous ses vêtements qui sentent l'herbe. Assis à la table de la cuisine, Billy est sur le point de s'installer dans la fosse profonde et sombre de regrets induits par la gueule de bois quand une aboiement subite le fait sortir de sa transe. Avant qu'il ne se rende compte de ce qui se passe, une masse chaude et furieuse s'enfonce dans les genoux de Billy, laissant une trace de slobber dans sa joue. Il tombe presque de sa chaise à la masse ajoutée, mais parvient à se stabiliser à la dernière seconde, regardant vers le bas au coupable avec une sorte de wry de sourire. Billy murmure, la voix encore husky du sommeil, ce qui ne lui rapporte qu'une autre bande de slobber sur le côté droit de son visage. Mais il ne semble pas trop dérangé par la situation - loin de là, en fait. La simple présence de Roméo, le Bullweiler doré, lui a fait se sentir un peu moins merdique, alors il lui donne une égratignure sur la tête, puis encore sous le menton, pour bonne mesure. Bien sûr, il ne faut pas longtemps à ses jambes pour commencer à s'endormir après cela, donc Billy doit se déplacer un peu dans son siège, se tenant au chiot envahi par la végétation précaire perché sur ses genoux. Mon Dieu, tu es lourd. C'est bon, c'est bon. Je dois nous apporter quelque chose à manger. En fin de compte, Billy décide d'un bagel de grille-pain pour le petit déjeuner, et au moment où il le termine, le bol de kibble he-d mis en route pour Romeo est déjà vide. Jésus. Je ne savais pas que tu avais faim.Les mots sont accompagnés d'un ronflement, et d'une petite secousse de la tête. Il avait vraiment besoin d'arrêter de nourrir Roméo. Peut-être que je devrais aller à un régime, aussi, Billy contemple, sirotant son café maintenant-lukewarm, et pincée avec insouciance au bout de flab sur son estomac. Ce train de pensée, cependant, est rapidement déraillé par la prise de conscience de l'aube qu'il devait être quelque part aujourd'hui. En descendant les dernières gouttes de son café dans un seul goupille, Billy se précipite devant Romeo pour faire une ligne d'abeille pour la salle de bains, claquant la porte fermée derrière lui. Un moment plus tard, on entendit la douche éclater à la vie, suivi par le cri dégueulasse d'un homme se trouvant soudainement trempé de la tête aux pieds dans de l'eau froide verglaçante. Il sort de la maison en quelques minutes, vêtu des vêtements les plus propres qu'il puisse excavé de sa zone de désastre d'un placard. Mais le fait est resté qu'il allait être en retard, et cela signifiait aussi qu'il n'avait pas d'autre choix que d'amener Romeo avec lui à la réunion de théâtre. C'est-à-dire, à moins qu'il ait l'impression de rentrer à la maison à un sort pire, et infiniment plus nauséabond que la mort. Il est presque sûr que les animaux n'étaient pas autorisés au théâtre, mais quelle autre option a-t-il? C'est ainsi qu'il finit par traverser les rues de St. James jusqu'au Lawrence Theatre, en laisse à la main, et qu'un sac de messager usé s'est jeté sur son épaule. Le voyage là-bas n'est pas si mauvais - peut-être environ trois, quatre blocs de distance - mais quand Romeo s'arrête pour renifler un arbre pour la centième fois, Billy se demande si ce serait plus rapide de le prendre et de le porter le reste du chemin là-bas. Au lieu de cela, il tombe juste à un squat devant le chien, le fixant avec ce qu'il espère était un regard suffisamment flétrissant. Si la bonne routine de flic n'a pas fonctionné, alors il n'y avait qu'une seule chose à faire. - Tu as déjà fait ça? Parce que si vous n'obtenez pas ce cul se déplaçant en ce moment, vous pouvez dire adieu à ce steak que j'ai économisé depuis jeudi.La voix de Billy tombe à un murmure en colère, en partie à des fins d'intimidation, et en partie en raison de la façon dont il ne voulait pas regarder complètement hors de son rocker si tôt le matin. Comme un gardien interrogeant son prisonnier, il tente d'attraper la ligne de vue de Romeo, les yeux rétrécis pour signifier son statut d'alpha. Cette méthode, bien sûr, ne fonctionne pas, et Romeo semblait parfaitement content d'ignorer Billy, des tentatives de plus en plus désespérées pour le faire bouger. Peut-être que le canin pouvait sentir que la menace était vide, ou peut-être que c'était parce que les chiens étaient tout à fait incapables de comprendre le langage humain complexe, mais il semblait totalement épargné par tout ce que Billy lui a dit. Cinq minutes de plus passent avant que Romeo ne décide enfin de recommencer à marcher, et le sans pitié Billy ne pouvait faire que suivre derrière lui, espérant à Dieu que ce serait leur dernier détour. Avec l'aide de quelques gâteries de bacon rangées dans la poche de Billy, ils arrivent au théâtre sans aucune interruption supplémentaire; et à en juger par le nombre maigre de voitures garées sur le côté de l'immeuble – il, miraculeusement, n'était même pas si tard. Maintenant, c'est juste une question d'essayer d'obtenir Roméo à l'intérieur de l'endroit sans alerter le concierge. Le creak des vieux planchers, et le click-clack répétitif des griffes contre le feuillus signal Billy's arrivée, mais la première chose qui vole hors de sa bouche est des excuses. Désolé pour le chien. Il n'a pas eu le temps de le faire marcher, alors je l'ai juste... amené ici. Il s'approche de la scène, sonnant plus qu'un peu ovin. À part lui, il y en avait trois autres – Art, Ziggy et Noa. Tout d'un coup, il ressent un besoin pressant de se justifier. Tirant un coup d'œil rapide et presque imperceptible sur Roméo, Billy continue, les lèvres se cramponnent dans un demi-sourire, et lève les mains dans un geste placassant: -Il ne sera pas du tout un problème. Promesse.

Male | 31 | Homosexual 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Billy Halford stands at an impressive 6’2”, though with his tendency to slouch, he usually appears a little shorter than he actually is. It’s mostly out of laziness, and his posture is terrible; shoulders rolled forward, hands stuck deep in his pockets. Pretty much the only time he grows to full height is when he feels threatened, and has been known to be truly terrifying when he does so. Fortunately, however, this side of him is not something people see very often. Turquoise green eyes always seem to glimmer with something akin to amusement; and these days, Billy can often be seen chewing away at tabs of gum in an attempt to break a near-lifelong smoking habit. While he used to be a tad insecure about a crooked front tooth, he’s long since gotten past it. He likes to keep his dirty blonde hair cropped close in a messy undercut, though it inevitably grows out into a loose shag when he forgets to pay a visit to the barber. While he prefers to stay clean shaven, he often gets lazy and gives his scruff free rein. Upon closer inspection, one will also find a light smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. Other than that, he does have a few notable scars. One of which is an inch or two under his right eye, stretching from the top of his ear, and another, smaller one cutting vertically through the eyebrow. Both of them were from a fight he’d gotten into a couple years back, where he ended up with the pointy end of a broken bottle to the face. Additionally, the surface of his skin is peppered by a maze of tiny battle scars, most of them souvenirs from past altercations. That said, he’s not super built, but still pretty solid, and it’s largely due to his genes rather than trips to the gym. He’d almost have a swimmer’s physique, but lately, it’s been softened by one too many Big Macs, though he likes to think his latest part-time gig as a mover keeps him fit enough. His voice, as is befitting of his appearance, is a deep, rumbling timbre, but Billy doesn’t quite sound like he used to, after years spent away from his hometown. Most of the time, his accent can be described as generic - bland, even - a monotonous mix of North and South. In times of extreme emotion, however, he reverts back to the lazy, slack-jawed inflection characteristic to a native of the Appalachias. ‘Accidental Hipster’ is probably the best way to describe Billy’s non-existent fashion sense. He doesn’t put much effort into keeping up appearances, but somehow, still has a knack for turning his déshabillé to his advantage. When it gets chilly, he resorts to heavy flannels and/or ugly woollen sweaters. Paired with his positively ancient jeans and work boots, the whole aesthetic almost seems to scream ‘lumberjack’. On warmer days, well, he dresses exactly the same - except instead of hideous, moth-eaten sweaters scavenged from the thrift store, it’s ratty, old t-shirts and wifebeaters. Billy also seems to wear a lot of jewelry for a guy, though it’s mostly leather and beaded bracelets, steel rings on his fingers, and of course, those douchey seashell necklaces. 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Billy enjoys a bottle of whiskey on the weekends, loves his dog a little too much, and could probably do with seeing a barber more than once every six months. But for all his tactlessness, he really does mean well. When he asks a question, he really does want to know the answer, and when loves, he loves pretty ferociously. His sense of humor, however crude, will never fail to bring a smile to people’s faces, and even if that doesn’t work, his laugh is deathly infectious. Billy is one of those guys you hate to love, and he knows it well. Even so, he can be unpredictable, adamant, and dislikes making commitments, especially those he is not sure he can keep. But whatever one might be led to believe, he’s an extremely passionate, and emotional person. When he truly takes interest in something (or someone), he puts all of himself into it, and momentarily forgets about everything else. This, however, means that he is very bad at relationships – really, really bad. He often comes as pushy and overly aggressive, in both his work and his life outside of it. One of Billy’s defining traits is his volatility, though he’s mellowed out a little with age. No longer does he get into barfights (well, less than he used to, anyway), but he still makes a point of saying what he thinks, and will rarely sugarcoat his words to win people over. He’s never uncomfortable; in fact, his boldness often verges on brash and crosses into downright crude, thanks to his lack of a filter. If he likes something, he'll let you know it, and if he doesn't, well, he's never been shy about voicing his opinion in that matter either. Try as he might, Billy’s never really had the best poker face in the world, and it tends to give him away, more often than not. If there’s one thing he can’t stand, it’s being talked down to. Of course, this isn’t to say he’s all bad, just that he’s hard to like. He does have a few soft spots here and there, even if they aren’t exactly the easiest things to find. Yet for all his flaws, he’s never met a boundary he wouldn’t cross, and he’ll go to the absolute ends of the Earth for you if he thinks you’re worth it. Billy is, by nature, extremely impulsive, both in the things he does and says. As far as he’s concerned, life’s too short to just sit around and let shit happen. He often states that no one should take life too seriously because in the end, everyone ends up in the same place - even if he doesn’t believe what he’s preaching. At the very core of his personality, Billy is kind of a bleeding heart, and often puts the needs of others above his own. Not many people know this, but Billy is deathly afraid of horses, courtesy of a rather unfortunate incident during his teenage years. Fortunately, horses aren’t something you see very often in the city. The next one’s a little less obvious, but he’s terrified of becoming his father, and what he’s going to do if everything with Abracadabra! ends up falling through. 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✓ French fries ✓ Dogs ✓ Coffee ✓ Warm weather ✗ Broccoli ✗ Horror movies ✗ Vodka ✗ Horses 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔ Born the oldest of three children in rural Kentucky, childhood wasn’t quite as picturesque for the young William Halford as most others’. His father, like everyone else in town, was a coal miner who spent more of his free time getting drunk at the local bar than taking care of his son. His mother, meanwhile, managed to juggle two different jobs at the same time. Suffice to say, Billy didn’t exactly grow up surrounded by sunshine and rainbows. But still, that was something he genuinely wanted - a loving, close-knit family, just like one of those obnoxiously American Norman Rockwell paintings he’d seen in the pages of his textbooks. His father’s idea of a bond with his son, however, was keeping the women he brought home a secret from his mother, while she thought quality time with Billy was handing him a list of chores to do as she spent her afternoons bussing tables at the local diner, and her nights at the gas station. It wasn’t long before his father took off up north with a rouged-up tart on his arm. For a few years, Billy, his siblings, and his mom got by. He had to grow up fast, of course, but he never blamed his mother, not even for a second. Carol Ann Halford was a real good parent, if you could look past the fact that she wasn’t much of a parent at all. She was still his mother, and she worked her ass off to keep a roof over their heads. Most days, Billy tried to convince himself that having no father was better than having a drunk, deadbeat loser as one. There were people all over the world who had a hell of a lot less, and Billy knew he had to count his blessings each night and say a quick prayer to whoever it was that listened, if anybody at all. That, of course, left Billy to take care of his siblings while she was away, and he was a good sport about it, too - never fussing, never complaining - at least up until high school, anyway. In school, he started to struggle, both academically and socially, though if he had to be honest, he saw that shit coming from a mile away. As his grades slipped, his frustration grew, and soon, he began to take his anger out on the people around him. There were too many things about him that could be picked on for his liking, and so he grew louder, more boisterous, and was forever throwing the first punch in a fight. You had to be living under a rock to not know his name, in fact, and Billy loved every second of it, no matter how many times he was sent to the principal’s office, knuckles bruised and bleeding. Everyone was divided when it came to Billy - you either loved or hated him, and oddly enough, he was okay with that. It put him on the map and gave him the attention he craved; the attention he lacked. Back home, his mother was none the wiser, too busy with trying to make ends meet to pay any heed. At age seventeen, Billy found himself with no real higher education prospects. He was uninvolved in extracurricular activities, uninterested in his studies, and shovelling horse poop at a neighbour’s farm for a few dollars a day. For all intents and purposes, it looked like he was heading down the same path everyone else in town did - that of a coal miner. It was a respectable living, sure, but did he really want to spend his entire life stuck in a dank cave somewhere, chipping away at rocks? But his siblings were getting old enough to take care of themselves, weren’t they? It wouldn’t hurt to take a week out of his life for a short holiday. And so, with what money they could scrape together, Billy and a few friends embarked on a trip NYC, as one last hurrah before they finally settled into a life of mundanity. Once they got there, however, things were a whole lot different from what they saw on TV. By the end of their second day there, Billy and his friends had gotten thrown out of more places than he could count for causing a ‘public disturbance’. Billy’s first brush with show business (if it can even be called that), came in the form of a bespectacled casting agent from a modelling agency. I know what you’re thinking, but however hard it might be to believe, he did use to be the hot, young thing once. Instead of returning home with his friends at the end of the week, he signed a contract with the modelling agency after an audition. For a while, that was what he did - editorials and runway modeling. It was easy enough to stand around and look pretty, but no one ever fell over themselves to book him for a show. Still, he earned enough to get by, and every month, he would send an envelope filled with some money back home. Of course, nothing lasts forever, and when his problem with authority started to catch up, job offers slowly dried up. Billy eventually turned to various odd jobs to keep himself afloat - moving furniture, mopping floors - he even worked as a morgue technician, at one point. In search of his next meal, he ended up auditioning for a bit part in an commercial. Not exactly the most exciting stuff, but it wasn’t hard to smile, look surprised, and act like the simple act pouring a drink was instead an insurmountable mountain, impossible to anyone but the most nimble of humans beings. The director was apparently sold by Billy’s ‘blandly handsome’ appearance, and called him in to do another commercial for some strange, mechanical mop. It’s around this time that Billy starts to lose it, his accent; the accent he hadn’t even realized he owned. It flavored his words with an odd, downward lilt that people noticed immediately, their attention shifting from what he’s saying to how he’s saying it. At first, they say it’s charming. That he is charming. That it’s a ‘quaint’ little accent, like they’re speaking to a child. After that, they say other things. Things in the ballpark of ‘uneducated’ and ‘uncultured’, without being so obvious. No one took him seriously. How can they, his housemate argued, when you sound like that? He started to bleed it out after that. Loud, rough words smoothing themselves out into something that’s a bit more monotone, a blend of North and South that made him sound like nothing at all. As soon as he started doing that, he managed to pull together a semi-stable career as a commercial actor. During one of the many dry periods in his life, Billy found himself sweeping floors at The Lawrence Theatre. That was also how he found out about Abracadabra!. Come to think of it, they were probably pretty desperate to fill their ranks, at that point. He still doesn’t know what possessed him to audition, but lo and behold - he actually got the gig through an impromptu, acoustic rendition of Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door played on a badly tuned guitar he found in the depths of the janitor’s closet. Truth be told, he didn’t even know that was a possibility. The schools he’d went had been ridiculously underfunded, and any art or theatre programs were but a far-off dream. Well, that was what he had to do now, anyway. And you know what they say - there’s no time like the present. 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔ ● Accents - Billy has a real knack for accents. Most acquaintances don’t even realise he’s from Kentucky until they hear how he sounds completely shitfaced. ● Singing - He’s actually pretty good at singing, just that he still has a bit of trouble with actually projecting his voice across the room. Billy doesn’t like to tell anyone, but he spent a good part of his childhood as a choirboy at his town’s congregation. Billy’s vocal color can be categorized somewhere between a dramatic and lyric baritone. ● Sturdy - Billy handles most of the heavy-lifting in Abracadabra!. It’s no sweat off his back, really, he’s been doing that kind of thing for a long time. And if he ever ends up getting into a fight, he’s happy to note that he still packs a mean right hook. ● Quick-witted - Billy is quick-witted, able to think incredibly fast on his feet. While his long-term planning isn’t quite up to par (read: terrible), he’s rather good at making split-second decisions that rescue him from sticky situations. 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ● Untrained - Billy’s never had any formal training in acting, and it shows. In fact, his approach to most things can be summed up with an age-old adage: “just wing it”. It’s been getting him by well enough, but how long that lasts is a question that’s yet to be answered. ● Tactless - Diplomacy is a huge problem for him, and he makes a terrible habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Try as he might, he’s never really had the best poker face in the world, and it tends to give him away more than not. ● Stubborn - Above all else, Billy values his pride. His facade of confidence is (mostly) unwavering, and he likes to think of himself the alpha dog in any social situation he’s in. Even in the most dire of situations, he rarely resorts to asking for help. 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Supporting Actor - Billy’s acting isn’t anything to write home about, but he can still follow stage directions and say his lines. Most of the time, what he ends up doing is more of a glorified bit part than anything, but his skill at accents comes in handy for that. Stagehand - When he’s not on stage himself, you can often find Billy running around backstage, moving props, setting up lights, and making sure no one gets killed and/or maimed by any falling scenery. 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖. ▔▔▔▔ ● Billy owns a 2 year-old rescue dog named Romeo. He's a mutt, mostly Rottweiler and American Bulldog, but he loves him all the same, because come on - look at that face. ● Benjamin Coffin III in Rent, or Adolfo Pirelli in Sweeney Todd.

La Révélation "Mais celui qui est contaminé n'est pas le chaos des marines, mais l'un de vos leaders le chaos déteste avec une passion ardente." Il dit en tournant la tête, voyant Yoven les aider. Yoven était en état de choc quand il a vu le légionnaire. "Est-ce ce que je pense que c'est?" -- Oui, espèce d'imbécile! Mais nous devons trouver Cornilious! Il, comme toute l'Inquisition le sait, peut arrêter cela avec quelques mots de péché! Il a dit cela en entendant l'appel impie du chaos appeler leurs noms et le chaos a cessé de se battre. Yoven! Asura! et... une légionnaire?! Jamais, vous allez arrêter maintenant, ou regarder votre précieux héros de Mars, hérétique de l'Ommnisah, et le branle d'Arès, vous le feriez maintenant? Tearogoth a dit à travers le marine possédé. Il avait un chaos augmenté boulonneur à la tête de Cornilious, qui avait subi de graves blessures. "Ne t'inquiète pas pour moi! Crache ces salauds chaotiques! Ils insultent l'Empereur de l'homme et nous veulent tous du mal! Unle-Tearogoth l'a frappé dans le dos. Silence, vieil imbécile! Vous avez peut-être caché vos vraies loyautés à la plupart de l'empire, mais nous connaissons tous la vérité, Black Bill. Cornilious regarda Yoven avec un regard de mendicité sur son visage robotisé. Yoven soupira, réfléchit un moment, et s'inclina lentement. Le visage robotisé de Cornilious a fait ce qui semblait être un sourire. Il a saisi le charme sur son cou avec son bras restant.I, William Cornilious, adepte du mechanicum culte, serviteur de l'Empereur, appelle à vous mon seigneur, car vos ennemis sont ici, et j'ai besoin de mon vrai pouvoir, afin que leurs caucus pourris puissent être jonchés comme des cadeaux d'anniversaire! Une voix maléfique et ancienne remplissait l'air. Héhéhé! Pourquoi mon serviteur préféré, pourtant le plus ennuyeux, demande-t-il le pouvoir qu'il a? Prends-le, mais fais-en un bon spectacle! "Merci mon seigneur anarchique... MALAL!!!" Il a dit rire maniaquement. Il se tenait debout et toute son apparence se déplaçait, ainsi que son bras revenant et ses blessures se réparant. Il tenait la tête en regardant droit vers le haut, et tous ceux qui l'approchaient moururent. Son armure poussa des pics, son manteau devint noir et blanc, avec des notes de rouge. Ses yeux ont rougi de sang, puis sa tête est tombée, et tout s'est arrêté. Alors, Yoven a dit à haute voix : "Vous avez tous des ennuis maintenant, n'est-ce pas...Black Bill?" "HEHEHEHHHAHAHAHAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH Et il saisit son boulonneur, et toutes ses dendrites sortirent, ainsi que sa lame. Il se tourna vers Tearogoth et dit: «Nous nous rencontrons encore, Straken Tearogoth des Salamandres! Allons-nous nous saluer l'un l'autre? Oui? Alors laissez-moi commencer par dire que vous allez avoir besoin de congé payé! et il a commencé à réduire le chaos avec une fureur inconnue.

Name: Merdem Species: unknown Gender: seemly Male Age: unknown Appearance: Legion of the damned assualt terminator Bio: "In dedicato imperatum ultra articulo mortis" ("For the Emperor beyond the point of death") Equipment: Legion of the damned terminator armour, damned thunderhammer, damned flamer Rank: none Npc's: None Other: "In dedicato imperatum ultra artiulo mortis" "WAAAAARGH!!!"

Un mois? Sérieusement?- Noah s'est effondré, renversant la carte sans tant qu'inspectant le texte fleuri appuyé dessus,--C'est à peine assez de temps pour commander quoi que ce soit pour ce que nous avons trouvé. Je ne pense pas que cela volera, Directeur.. Il a passé sur le glissement de papier à la personne suivante et a dérivé sans bruit vers la scène, se tirant vers le haut avec les deux bras enfoncés dans les bois. Tout cela semblait venir directement d'un conte de fées. Ils n'auraient pas assez de temps pour créer quelque chose de long ou de grand et le mystérieux donateur peut même ne pas être réel à la fin. Chaque cellule du corps de Noé a crié à quel point cette idée était horrible, comment il ne devrait même pas prendre la peine de contribuer à... Il y avait quelque chose d'étrangement excitant à essayer. Lucas semblait déjà prêt à réunir le groupe pour se produire, et au moment où Noé trouva un endroit confortable pour se pencher contre il pouvait entendre son colocataire énumérer des pièces possibles qu'ils pourraient commencer à développer. Un petit groupe de titres a passé sa vision, des pièces sans fin qu'ils pourraient probablement se réunir en moins de quelques semaines s'ils travaillaient vraiment leur plus dur. Noah fixa les yeux sur la scène polie et, pendant un moment, vit le double peint qui appartenait à son ancienne école secondaire. Le théâtre n'était pas dans son sang, mais il l'a forcé à entrer dans sa vie de toute façon. Noé a essayé d'imaginer sa vie sans la scène et sans les lumières et les sons de la vie théspienne et il n'aime qu'un paysage gris, fleurissant avec les couleurs sombres des bleus, de l'alcool et de l'abandon. Il pensait à une vie sans Abracadabra! et subitement sentit une traction dans sa poitrine pour se battre. Un spectacle en un mois, ça semblait impossible, mais... Mais où était le mal d'essayer? Noah est revenu vers l'avant de la scène et a giflé une main calmée sur l'épaule de Lucas. "Décidez-vous d'une pièce de théâtre et je ferai en sorte que le design de la lumière s'éloigne le plus rapidement possible." Il a parlé avec l'inhabituel d'un robot, redressant sa posture alors qu'il s'inclinait la tête en arrière pour inspecter les passerelles. Selon la pièce, il devrait s'aventurer et commencer à ajuster certains des appareils les plus anciens pour accommoder les scènes. Ils n'ont pas eu le temps de commander quoi que ce soit d'autre comme ils le feraient normalement, de sorte que le directeur devrait être satisfait des vieux gels et des taches instables. Pourtant, il avait plus qu'assez pour travailler au théâtre, peu importe l'âge de tout. Noah souhaitait silencieusement une nouvelle technologie mise en place, mais se trouva plutôt ravi de l'idée de remonter dans la passerelle et de s'y asseoir silencieusement toute la journée pendant que les acteurs se promènent autour de la scène. Il a pensé brièvement à les rejoindre sur scène pour le spectacle précipité qu'ils étaient sur le point de mettre en place et a immédiatement senti son estomac s'écraser avec plus de mauvaise-idée-anxiété. Pour lui, entrer dans le caractère était un processus thérapeutique mais long et long. Il serait malavisé de demander un rôle sur un jeu aussi rapide. En outre, la technologie l'a mieux adapté mentalement, même s'il a aimé entrer dans l'état d'esprit d'une autre personne pendant quelques heures par nuit. Noé a été tiré de son déluge de pensées par la voix familière de Ziggy, et ses lèvres tirées à la ligne a en fait basculé vers le haut pour un moment à la suggestion de jeu. Un inspecteur Calls était une vieille pièce à trois caractères. Assez longtemps pour déclencher quelques alarmes rouges dans l'arrière de son esprit, mais juste assez petit et la technologie sage pour calmer la panique. "C'est le théâtre de la salle de dessin, c'est le meilleur. Cela fait trois actes, mais je pense que ça peut marcher si les acteurs se débrouillent." Il a drone en accord, "D'autres suggestions?"

Male | 21 | Homosexual 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Noah Auguste is more of a ghost than a person. He is a man pulled directly from a chiaroscuro sketch, a creature most may not notice at first glance. He's the living definition of a wallflower by appearance alone thanks to his emotionless and homely face. Noah is not conventionally attractive, rather his face is quite forgettable and seems to be steeped in the over saturated filter of an old photograph. The only real color to his appearance comes from his hooded but bright blue eyes, which seem ever brighter compared to his mousy hair and pale, pale skin. While he may possess beautiful features, like his aforementioned eyes and his plush lips, Noah seems to take it upon himself to appear as unassuming as possible. He is stocky with muscles built from working with his father's construction firm, though it fails to make up where he stands height wise. Standing at a mere 5'4", his height adds once more to his ability to blend in to any real life scenario, and he drops down to a sad 5'2" thanks to his perpetual slouch. Despite these short comings, Noah walks with a sense of self-preservation. He does not lack confidence (hell, maybe you can't lack what you never had), but instead of holding his head high he walks quickly and quietly as if to protect himself from an invisible force walking behind him. His attire matches his protective motions, often hiding him away in plain sight with dark shirts, dark jeans, and unassuming though accentuating outfits. When he is not moving from place to place like most humans do he is entirely still, observing those around him. His stare is often cold and distant, and while it may appear that Noah is glaring at someone, he is, in reality, day dreaming. People watching is also a hobby of his, though this is merely out of curiosity towards others. Apathy draws Noah's usual expressions into that of a statue. He rarely smiles, rarely frowns, and on top of it all seems to find those who do emote to be annoying. His bored expressions may read as aloof, and that would be because they are, but there are times when he may tilt his head quizzically or huff in exasperation. Those few signs of life are rare but enough to remind others that Noah is, in fact, a human being. 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Noah is probably the least outwardly emotional person you may ever meet. Drenched in a thick coating of self-made apathy, he walks through his everyday life looking and reacting to everything like a photograph. He is not so much a person rather than the implication of a person-- he walks and talks and breathes, but he never shows any sign that he feels anything from such humane interactions. Despite his apparent lack of emotion, Noah is far from silent. He is relatively blunt in conversations, and if ever caught in the middle of a debate he is not afraid to speak his mind. To those he tolerates he is protective and watchful, though does not outwardly voice his concerns for them. In his own mind, Noah is a volatile storm. He often switches from long, depression-based lack of motivation and days of subdued mania where he merely throws himself into work to keep himself busy. His general aloofness is not exactly a cover for his apparent mental issues, rather it is a symptom of his attempt to cover up whatever is going on within him. Of course, this habit makes Noah a rather secretive person, and though he may not mean any harm by his self destructive attitude, those few and far between friends he has since lost were perhaps most hurt by his wish to remain silent about himself. When involved with other people for a project or in the theater company itself, Noah does his share and nothing more. His ideology is mostly reliant on the thought that "he can carry his own weight", and once he has he leaves the rest of the work to those within the group. Noah isn't lazy, per say, rather he lacks motivation to do anything other than what is assigned to him. When working in the theater, however, Noah seems oddly more attuned with himself and the objects and people around him. While acting he is ridiculously responsive, and though he has trouble improvising or keeping rhythm it is obvious that he enjoys himself just the same. Noah is, in all honesty, everything and nothing to a fault. He is honest to a fault. He keeps promises to a fault. He is quiet and morbid and protective and volatile, all to a fault. He feels absolutely nothing, and yet still has the need to drown out that white noise with loud parties and a ridiculous amount of alcohol. The dark feelings that Noah is hiding will perhaps never be revealed, as he works hard to keep himself distanced from people who could threaten to peel down his mental walls, but those who do try to reach out may just find a scared, introspective boy just ready to lose it. 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✓ Alcohol and cigarettes ✓ Small animals and children ✓ Cold, quiet weather ✓ Acting; or rather being someone other than himself ✗ Hard drugs ✗ His father ✗ People entering his personal space ✗ People who show intense emotions 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔ Life in the slums of the East Coast wasn't exactly all sunshine and beach times. Noah was born to squat in a three roomed apartment on the Jersey Shore with his twin sister, Beatrice, and his abusive father James Auguste. Noah never knew his mother, or, rather, he had never heard mention of her in the house. As Bea and Noah grew older they just assumed she up and left after they were born, and honestly neither of them could blame her. No sane woman would have been able to deal with the manic asshole that their father was. Noah's early life consisted of getting locked in cupboards, running down to the corner store to pick up his dad's cigars, and playing pretend with his sister who recieved the same abuse and then some. They lived in that seaside town for ten long years, dealing with their father and the other drunks that cruised through the salty-smelling streets when it was off seasons. A few months after their tenth birthdays, however, James came home with a letter in ahnd and announced to his children that they would be moving out of state for work. Bea and Noah were, unexpectedly, excited for this change of pace. James seemed less agitated at home with the upcoming move (when questioned why by Noah, he merely responded by saying "I'm getting more pay, kid") thus the twins were left to their own devices as they packed up their meagar life in New Jersey and set off to a brand new house set up in Greenville, Ohio. Noah's middle school and high school life was spent battling with depressive thoughts and keeping his sister above water as she fell into the same habits as him. His father set him off to work for his construction company as soon as he was fit enough to start lifting rubble and work machinery, and that with the added stress of school work and keeping his twin sane muddled down into him until Noah was left only with a will to work and nothing more. He lost any interest in himself and his hobbies, lost his own thoughts in favor of keeping track of his sister's, and gained a new found disease known as 'apathy'. The only thing that kept Noah somewhat intriugued was Greenville High's theater and English prorgrams. He found himself working tirelessly after school one sophmore dya in order to perfect how to use the old, half-broken light board and memorize all of the actor's lines on stage in order to keep his queues on time. He read Shakespearian monolouges in and after class, and found a new love for musicals and plays with each ticket he bought to the town's local programs. Of course, his father wasn't quite a big fan of his son's "odd, stupid, girly" interests, and Bea could care less about him as the end of their high school lives slowly stretched forwrad to swallow them whole. Eventually Noah became fed up with his home life. Bea was all prepared to shell off for college, all ready to leave her brother behind after their four long years of keeping her away from all the destructive thoughts she craved, and Noah felt betrayed by her actions to leave him behind. In retaliation he applied to a college in Indiana and eventually found himself on a one way trip to St. James, Indiana. He left behind his drunk and miserable father, his thankless sister, his broken friendships and his broken house. He left behind what ever traces remained of the old Noah and found a new shell to inhibit in his home away from home. And eventually, after a three months of living on campus and exploring the small town's delights, he stumbled upon the Abrcadabra theater comapny, and the rest was history. 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔ ● Acting: A talent spurred from countless English class readings and late night Shakespearean monologues, Noah has a keen ability of simply capturing the essence of whatever role is assigned to him. Of course, some parts are easier than others (he generally favors the pessimistic male leads) but given enough time to prepare Noah will do reasonably well as whomever he is instructed to be. ● Technical Theater: Before Noah was known in the company as an actor he worked backstage as a lighting technician. He both designed some of the light designs for some of the old productions as well as worked to adjust and move the tech during show time. He still goes behind the scenes nowadays when not acting up a storm on stage. ● Calm: In terms of personality Noah isn't..... Much, to say the least. He lacks the proper motivation to actively emote and seems fine with just sitting in a corner and staring at a wall rather than socializing. On the high chance that the company is running through some anxiety, however, Noah is the rock that can help keep people together. His calm, emotionless words may be blunt at times but are trained enough to quell whatever panic is getting the person in question in a jam. 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ● Dancing: Actually, anything involving rhythm (he has trouble learning songs during the first few weeks of rehearsals too). Noah may have decent timing in scenes, but when it comes to dancing to a beat he has two left feet. ● Emoting: Noah in general has issues revealing what he's truly feeling. When not playing the part of another person on stage he is horribly apathetic, almost to the point of being robotic. Because of his apathy he has trouble sharing his own thoughts, ideas, and feelings. ● Heights: Perhaps the worst phobia to have for a tech-crew member, Noah has an abnormal fear of being high up. While he never outwardly says anything to anyone, his demeanor drastically changes when he is in a high spot. Despite his fright, Noah frequents roofs to smoke, and when asked why he merely responds with, "I'm feeling." 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Tech Crew – Noah works with the lighting and sound crew to ensure that the more extravagant productions are nicely lit and sounding as pitch perfect as possible. Though he hasn't put much time into lights due to his new found interest in actually BEING in the shoes, Noah seems to have a soft spot in his heart for light design and sound effects. Actor – Though the revelation for this role was recent, Noah has taken to his new title quite nicely. Having always been a fan of monologues and being in the mindset of someone other than himself, he easily slipped into the mindset of an actor. Still, he has a lot to learn about being on stage. 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖. ▔▔▔▔ ● He works two jobs besides the company and college; one as a waiter in a local diner and the other as a valet at a high class restaurant an party venue. Both gigs are part time and help keep his tongue wet and his tuition paid for ● His favorite play is actually a lesser known short piece called "Waiting for Death", though the role he would most like to play would have to be Tom Wingfield from The Glass Menagerie.

Contemplativement, Lucas s'est envolé dans son scénario, il s'est éparpillé et s'est ennuyé comme tout le reste dans ce théâtre. Sa copie avait le nom Fiona Preston griffonné sur le coin supérieur droit de la couverture en écriture précipitée. L'encre fanée était à peine là, avec certaines des lettres éparpillées inégalement, laissant derrière les tirets dans la couverture plutôt que l'encre. Cette copie du script avait été aimée par Fiona, à en juger par les notes mesquines, mais minutieuses laissées dans les marges. Elle avait joué Mme Birling, il semblait, le travail de mise en évidence maladroite fait sous ses lignes parfois croisé dans les mots réels, ce qui fait qu'elle semblait les croiser plutôt que de les mettre en évidence. Pêcher son crayon mécanique fidèle dans sa poche, Lucas a écrit son nom au-dessus de celui de Fiona Preston, ajoutant son nom à l'héritage de ce scénario particulier. Il n'avait pas lu An Inspector Calls depuis les cours de littérature du lycée, mais l'histoire était encore entreposée quelque part dans sa tête. Lucas a balancé son index dans la liste des personnages, s'arrêtant sur chaque nom. Plus la pièce était petite, plus elle était gérable en termes d'ensemble. De toutes les pièces du monde, ils ont eu une chance de se préparer en moins d'un mois. En termes d'action cependant, il n'y avait pas de place pour se cacher, pas de petite partie pour Lucas de se cacher derrière. Sauf un. "Je vais prendre Edna." Lucas n'était qu'un demi-kidding quand il leva la main à demi-coeur. Le port d'une robe de femme de chambre serait - il vraiment préférable de s'attaquer à un rôle plus important? À ce stade, son sarcasme était tellement avancé que même Lucas ne savait pas s'il était sarcastique ou pas.

Male | Twenty | Pansexual 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Icy looks to go with an icy demeanor, Lucas is the embodiment of the 'aloof blonde' stereotype. His well-defined jawline and cheekbones sharp enough to cut glass accentuate his angular face. Narrowed green eyes, pink lips and the occasional freckle dotting his face are the only colored features on pale skin. His dirty blonde hair is tousled from him running his hands through it so often. Sometimes you can see dimples during his rare smiles. Lucas' slender frame stands tall and proud. His imposing height of six feet often distracts from the fact that he could afford to put on a couple of pounds and a bit more muscle. He has a confident strut and moves at his own pace on his own terms, not anyone else's. Lucas is rather fidgety and he's seldom seen sitting still — he's always moving, whether it be his foot tapping away restlessly on a beat that only he can hear, or twiddling his pen between his fingers. For lack of a better term, Lucas is the surly owner of a resting bitch face. While it's difficult to deny his conventionally attractive looks, he's hardly the most friendly-looking person in the company. Lucas doesn't smile, he smirks; he doesn't laugh, he snickers. Sarcasm often hangs heavily on his clipped tone, and it often surprises people that his singing voice is actually capable of warmth. 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ They say that laughter is the key to a long life. If that's true, Lucas is fated an early death. Far from cheerful, Lucas is brooding and appears to be carrying more than the necessary amount of stress on his thin shoulders. A realist through and through — though many people will insist on saying pessimist — false hopes and empty reassurances mean little to him. He's not the type of person to say that everything will be alright or that there's a light at the end of the tunnel. Lucas drops the cold hard truth on people, and if that doesn't make him friendly so be it. The higher the optimism, the higher the fall. He's ruthless in his endeavors, working with the mindset that the end justifies the means. He gets results, and that's all that matters. Lucas' confidence borders on arrogance and while he isn't a "my way or the highway" kind of person, he has difficulty delegating tasks because the only way to assure that everything is under control is if he does it himself. He understands the importance of teamwork, cooperation and friendship in theory, but to actually practice those ideals is a different story. Snarky comments and stinging words are his main method of communication. His interactions are as spiky as a porcupine and just as effective at pushing people away. Aside from the sense of camaraderie within the members of a stage production, Lucas is sorely lacking in friends and the skill to make any. Being nice doesn't come naturally to him, and his knee-jerk reaction to everything is to insult it — which doesn't help warm people up to him whatsoever. But say what you will about Lucas, when he praises or acknowledges something, it's genuine and probably took a lot of willpower to say it out loud. Slight flickers of kindness from an otherwise thorny persona keeps him from being a complete jerk (though he's still unabashedly an asshole). Lucas is a rather vain person, extremely concerned with appearances and how he portrays himself. This isn't just limited to his looks, he feels the need to make everything he does seem effortless. Even though he's a hard worker, he refuses to acknowledge or show that he is, preferring to let everyone think he skirts by based on natural talent. There's not really any particular rhyme or reason as to why he's troublesome in this way, he just is and has to go out of his way to project himself as such. Having an emotionally abusive father has left its mark on Lucas, even though his mother whisked him away when he was young. He has a fear of being trapped. As a cleithrophobic, Lucas is not a fan of locked doors or feeling restrained in general. He values freedom highly, and even feeling trapped emotionally can be distressing. Whether it be actually being trapped in a locked room or even being stuffed in an elevator with a lot of people, he's more prone to anxiety attacks when he feels cornered. But at the very core of it all, Lucas is passionate above everything else. He may feign disinterest and purposefully goes out of his way to make it seem like he has better things to do, but on this sinking ship Lucas is the one frantically plugging holes and hauling out the water. Even when every instinct is screaming at him to abandon ship, Lucas has remained, is remaining, and will remain on it as it sinks. Like with almost everything he does, there's a nearly undetectable hint of warmth beneath his actions. He may not ever admit it in person, but he cares. 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✓ Music of all genres ✓ Forts Small enclosed spaces ✓ Horror movies ✓ Staying up into ungodly hours of the night ✗ Feeling restrained ✗ Asking for help ✗ Modern art ✗ Audible mastication 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔ Lucas Olson is no stranger to the life of a starving actor. He grew up in that lifestyle due to his mother who pursued the unglamorous and unfulfilling life of an actress who wanted nothing more than to find her big break. His mother Olivia Olson is first and foremost a dreamer. Chasing after one's dream is often seen as an admirable quality, but in Olivia's case she was a dreamer before a mother. Consequently, her son was usually not at the top of her priorities. While this may sound cruel, there was never any doubt between the two that the love between them was unconditional and true — this was only reinforced and strengthened after Olivia left her emotionally abusive husband, fleeing with a five year old Lucas in her arms. After being constrained for her entire life, Olivia finally found the world at her fingertips. There was finally no one to tell her that she couldn't follow her dream of becoming a musical actress. She did her best to raise Lucas as well as she could, but juggling several part-time jobs while she attended audition after audition was hardly the ideal lifestyle for Lucas. Due to his mother being absent for long periods of time and her scatterbrained tendencies, Lucas developed an anal-retentive personality to make up for his mother's shortcomings. He stepped up to handle the day-to-day chores, organizing and scheduling, everything his mother had trouble doing. If his mom was a dreamer, she needed a realist to keep her grounded and Lucas had to become that person. On the other hand, his mother taught him the the value of freedom, the joys of music and his love for the theater. Many nights were spent at his mother's rehearsals and vocal training. When she couldn't afford a babysitter, he was often brought along and allowed to stay as long as he stayed quiet and unassuming. It eventually became a routine for him to swing by his mother's rehearsals after school and complete his homework while she practiced her lines on the stage. Lucas started taking singing lessons alongside his mother at the young age of ten, after the teacher noted Lucas' natural talent when Olivia brought him along. Though the triumphant nights that he waited for her in the lobby of an auditorium with a bouquet of flowers were few and far between they were among the best memories of Lucas' life. After an entire lifetime of watching and supporting his mother on her journey to become an actress of minor success, it only made sense for Lucas to also join his school's drama board as soon as he was able. Even in middle school, it became immediately apparent that not only did Lucas not have the skill to perform on stage, he didn't want to either. He was far more comfortable pulling the strings from backstage, telling people what to do and making sure everything ran smoothly. For every year since sixth grade, Lucas served as the stage manager for all of the productions put on by the school. During high school, Lucas took on an internship at Abracadabra! as an assistant stage manager at the young age of sixteen. He eventually became promoted to stage manager a few years later once the old stage manager left for greener pastures. Lucas was far too young and inexperienced to fully take on the responsibility, but they were forced to make do — there wasn't any other alternative. As a result Lucas is an unconventional stage manager: a little rough around the edges, but effective nonetheless. Lately, it's been feeling like Lucas' job isn't just managing the stage anymore; he's been forced to climb onto the stage to fill in for various roles that they didn't have enough actors for. For minor roles that require a maximum of one line or two were manageable, but when it came to musical roles... He thought that he had big shoes to fill when he got promoted to stage manager. If only he knew how much bigger his feet would need to be now. 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔ ● Management — Lucas is a perfectionist and has the know-how to make things happen. If you give him something to oversee, he'll make sure it works or die trying. ● Singing — Having been trained in the art since he was a young child, it comes easily to him. It's easier to mold the brain of a young child than an adult. ● Tenacious — Even in the darkest of times, Lucas will persevere and find at least some form of success. He doesn't need to see the light at the end of the tunnel to work with his hands and brain. ● Adaptable — After living a life where he and his mother just barely scraped by, Lucas is used to being thrown curve-balls. If something is unavailable, he doesn't dwell on it and is capable of coming up with a solution — no matter how atypical it may be. 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ● Acting — he's too emotionally stinted to express himself normally. How is he supposed to do that on stage!? ● Delegating — Teamwork doesn't come naturally to Lucas. He has a tendency to pile way too much on his plate, and is stupidly prideful enough to not ask for help. ● Unfriendly — There's no way around it, Lucas is a jerk. Even when he means to say nice things they come out aggressively mean. It's not necessarily the most desirable trait for a healthy production environment or a team leader. 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Stage Manager – Crucial to making the production run smoothly, Lucas' expertise lies in providing necessary leadership and support to the entire crew. Responsible for all of the logistics, he helps runs the rehearsals, communicates and coordinates with the stage crew, works closely with the director in overseeing the entire production, and so much more. Musical Lead – Despite his lack of acting skills, Lucas' exceptional singing talent is undeniable and lands him major roles in the musical productions they put on. His rich tenor tone is flexible and well-suited to a variety of characters, and he can even somewhat emote while singing! Now, if only that applied to every other non-singing scene... 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖. ▔▔▔▔ ● Has decent skill in piano, guitar and percussion – good for an amateur; nowhere near the ability of a professional. ● While Lucas is gifted in solving problems on set and micromanaging his way into a solution, when it comes to personal problems his go-to method of dealing with it is to avoid it completely. Completely useless when it comes to himself, Lucas is content to wallow in self-pity and hide himself from the world — quite literally. When he's upset or anxious, he has the childlike tendency to crawl into a small space and sit there to get away from everyone and everything. If he can't be found, try looking in tiny nooks. ● Sweeney Todd — if he's going to be forced to perform on stage, the role of Anthony would fit quite well for Lucas.

Goooooooood le matin survivants de la Zompocalypse! La radio brille de statique, mais la voix du citoyen Z est encore assez claire. "Si vous entendez ça, ça veut dire que vous êtes probablement encore en vie. Félicitations!" L'accueil familier fait glisser Felicity hors du sommeil et dans la réalité. "Il n'y a pas grand chose à mentionner aujourd'hui, autre que l'habitude. Quelques orages dans le nord-est et le centre des États-Unis, quelques zombies errants et même quelques bons airs." Il y a un clic comme une aiguille est placée sur un disque et la musique commence à jouer. "Rappelez-vous de la mission et restez en sécurité là-bas. C'était Citizen Z." La musique prend le dessus et Felicity s'éloigne de la petite machine. La mission. Celui que tout le monde suppose appartient à Murphy seul. Le monde est prêt pour une grande surprise. Felicity est déterminée à se rendre dans ce laboratoire de Californie avant Murphy. Appelez ça un but si vous voulez. Felicity préfère le qualifier de destin.

Name: Felicity Nagle Gender: Female Age: Currently 22 Appearance: Felicity is a small girl with dark brown-black hair, tanned skin and brown eyes. She's skinny and fairly average. She keeps her wavy hair tied back in a ponytail most of the time and is often seen completely covered (even if it's really hot) Personality: Much like her half-zombie counterpart, Murphy, Felicity has a pretty poor attitude (particularly towards the whole zompocalypse thing), though, she's a bit more reserved about it. She can be friendly and is serious on her mission to beat Murphy to California. She views it as more of a competition - perhaps more than she ought to. She's fairly fearless and will often rush into things. Weapon of choice: Felicity carries a small handgun that she had picked up from one of the dead guards in the juvenile detention center, but it only holds one bullet - a bullet that's been in the gun since the apocalypse came to her little corner of the world. Otherwise, she uses a staff she made from a tree branch. Bio: Felicity grew up in a small, Northern Michigan town. Daughter to Frank and Ahawi Nagle, sister to Nelson. The family was poor and Frank spent most of his time at work. Ahawi was a stay at home mother who clearly did not enjoy her life. Felicity was arrested and charged for attempted murder when she held a knife to her mother's throat. She claims that Ahawi was beating Nelson and Felicity had done the deed out of protection for her infant brother. Nelson was put into foster care and Felicity was put into a juvenile detention center. When the zompocalypse came about, she was literally among the last to know. When everything went to shit, she was taken into the lab and injected with the vaccine in an attempt to recreate the Murphy (as it had become somewhat common knowledge that he had survived being bitten). Much like him, the lab was overrun and she was cornered and bitten..... and lived without turning. (I might change this later. I'm not sure I really like it, but, for now, it's a good base.)

Billy répond, arguant un sourcil quizique en réponse à la question de Maddie. Déjà, Roméo attirait plus d'attention qu'ils ne l'avaient promis. Même les membres moins enthousiastes de la cast paraissaient frappés par les canines joyeusement grésillantes. Mais il décide qu'il est probablement préférable de donner à Romeo de la place pour courir, de peur qu'il ne se vante. Au moins de cette façon il sera hors de leurs cheveux pour la durée de la réunion. Billy espère juste qu'il n'aura pas à gérer les rideaux mâchés. Dans un mouvement lisse, il tombe à un squat à côté de Roméo, et décroît la tête. L'effet est immédiat. Comme une chauve-souris hors de l'enfer, Roméo s'approche de l'arrière du théâtre, des clous fraîchement cloués tapotant un rythme erratique contre le plancher de bois franc; et s'il se branlait, Billy pouvait presque voir un nuage de poussière de dessin animé qui traînait derrière lui. Billy se contente de planer autour des franges de la conversation, mais se calme sans caractère quand la carte finit par atterrir dans sa main. Il le lit une fois, deux fois, les yeux scrutant au-dessus de la boucle, le texte violet comme il tenait une sorte de secret qui change le monde. Est-ce la chance qu'ils attendaient? Un miracle pour arracher Abracadabra! De retour des griffes froides et impitoyables de la mort? Il parvient à peine à supprimer un rire incrédule, le refoulant dans ses poumons, et le transforme en toux beaucoup moins visible. Billy ne veut pas avoir trop d'espoirs - c'était juste flirter avec le désastre - mais ça sonnait comme la vraie affaire. Il y a juste un petit problème - un mois n'a pas été beaucoup de temps pour préparer une performance du tout. Un mois... Il fait écho, les dents s'inquiètent à sa lèvre inférieure. Tout le monde a dû jouer son rôle, rester concentré, et si rien ne s'est mal passé, ils pourraient faire en sorte que cela se produise. Si quelque chose s'est mal passé - il n'y a pas grand-chose qu'il puisse faire à ce sujet, n'est-ce pas? Billy se penche contre la scène, les bras croisés lâchement sur sa poitrine. Ils n'ont pas eu assez de temps pour trouver quelque chose d'original, mais ils ne pouvaient pas non plus retomber sur un classique essayé et testé. Ses pensées retour à la note leur mystérieux bienfaiteur les avait laissés, à trois mots en particulier - « prendre un risque ». Mais il n'a pas d'importance ce qu'ils choisissent s'ils ne parviennent pas à faire de ce spectacle un succès déchirant. À vrai dire, Billy ne connaît pas grand-chose au théâtre. Il avait malheureusement passé une bonne partie de la Littérature à obtenir un peu de silence. C'était inévitable, vraiment. Quand vous deviez prendre soin de deux jeunes frères et sœurs, travailler à temps partiel, et aller à l'école tout en même temps, vous dormiez quand vous le pouviez; mais il se souvient juste assez pour rédiger une opinion de sa propre. Billy commence, gesticulant vers Ziggy et Noah dans un mouvement large et balayant pour l'accent. Pendant un moment, il s'arrête, arrange ses pensées en quelque chose de plus concis. Gardez-le simple - le script, l'ensemble, tout. Un mois n'est pas assez de temps pour construire quelque chose de fantaisie, pas quand il ya tellement d'autres choses à traiter. Après cela, il s'affranchit, et se grouille autour du cou pour chercher Roméo, ce qui explique probablement qu'il finisse par sonner un peu distrait. Mais je suis cool avec les appels d'un inspecteur. Sinon, le piège de la mort ou l'attente de Godot pourrait être bon. Juste mes deux cents.

Male | 31 | Homosexual 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Billy Halford stands at an impressive 6’2”, though with his tendency to slouch, he usually appears a little shorter than he actually is. It’s mostly out of laziness, and his posture is terrible; shoulders rolled forward, hands stuck deep in his pockets. Pretty much the only time he grows to full height is when he feels threatened, and has been known to be truly terrifying when he does so. Fortunately, however, this side of him is not something people see very often. Turquoise green eyes always seem to glimmer with something akin to amusement; and these days, Billy can often be seen chewing away at tabs of gum in an attempt to break a near-lifelong smoking habit. While he used to be a tad insecure about a crooked front tooth, he’s long since gotten past it. He likes to keep his dirty blonde hair cropped close in a messy undercut, though it inevitably grows out into a loose shag when he forgets to pay a visit to the barber. While he prefers to stay clean shaven, he often gets lazy and gives his scruff free rein. Upon closer inspection, one will also find a light smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. Other than that, he does have a few notable scars. One of which is an inch or two under his right eye, stretching from the top of his ear, and another, smaller one cutting vertically through the eyebrow. Both of them were from a fight he’d gotten into a couple years back, where he ended up with the pointy end of a broken bottle to the face. Additionally, the surface of his skin is peppered by a maze of tiny battle scars, most of them souvenirs from past altercations. That said, he’s not super built, but still pretty solid, and it’s largely due to his genes rather than trips to the gym. He’d almost have a swimmer’s physique, but lately, it’s been softened by one too many Big Macs, though he likes to think his latest part-time gig as a mover keeps him fit enough. His voice, as is befitting of his appearance, is a deep, rumbling timbre, but Billy doesn’t quite sound like he used to, after years spent away from his hometown. Most of the time, his accent can be described as generic - bland, even - a monotonous mix of North and South. In times of extreme emotion, however, he reverts back to the lazy, slack-jawed inflection characteristic to a native of the Appalachias. ‘Accidental Hipster’ is probably the best way to describe Billy’s non-existent fashion sense. He doesn’t put much effort into keeping up appearances, but somehow, still has a knack for turning his déshabillé to his advantage. When it gets chilly, he resorts to heavy flannels and/or ugly woollen sweaters. Paired with his positively ancient jeans and work boots, the whole aesthetic almost seems to scream ‘lumberjack’. On warmer days, well, he dresses exactly the same - except instead of hideous, moth-eaten sweaters scavenged from the thrift store, it’s ratty, old t-shirts and wifebeaters. Billy also seems to wear a lot of jewelry for a guy, though it’s mostly leather and beaded bracelets, steel rings on his fingers, and of course, those douchey seashell necklaces. 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Billy enjoys a bottle of whiskey on the weekends, loves his dog a little too much, and could probably do with seeing a barber more than once every six months. But for all his tactlessness, he really does mean well. When he asks a question, he really does want to know the answer, and when loves, he loves pretty ferociously. His sense of humor, however crude, will never fail to bring a smile to people’s faces, and even if that doesn’t work, his laugh is deathly infectious. Billy is one of those guys you hate to love, and he knows it well. Even so, he can be unpredictable, adamant, and dislikes making commitments, especially those he is not sure he can keep. But whatever one might be led to believe, he’s an extremely passionate, and emotional person. When he truly takes interest in something (or someone), he puts all of himself into it, and momentarily forgets about everything else. This, however, means that he is very bad at relationships – really, really bad. He often comes as pushy and overly aggressive, in both his work and his life outside of it. One of Billy’s defining traits is his volatility, though he’s mellowed out a little with age. No longer does he get into barfights (well, less than he used to, anyway), but he still makes a point of saying what he thinks, and will rarely sugarcoat his words to win people over. He’s never uncomfortable; in fact, his boldness often verges on brash and crosses into downright crude, thanks to his lack of a filter. If he likes something, he'll let you know it, and if he doesn't, well, he's never been shy about voicing his opinion in that matter either. Try as he might, Billy’s never really had the best poker face in the world, and it tends to give him away, more often than not. If there’s one thing he can’t stand, it’s being talked down to. Of course, this isn’t to say he’s all bad, just that he’s hard to like. He does have a few soft spots here and there, even if they aren’t exactly the easiest things to find. Yet for all his flaws, he’s never met a boundary he wouldn’t cross, and he’ll go to the absolute ends of the Earth for you if he thinks you’re worth it. Billy is, by nature, extremely impulsive, both in the things he does and says. As far as he’s concerned, life’s too short to just sit around and let shit happen. He often states that no one should take life too seriously because in the end, everyone ends up in the same place - even if he doesn’t believe what he’s preaching. At the very core of his personality, Billy is kind of a bleeding heart, and often puts the needs of others above his own. Not many people know this, but Billy is deathly afraid of horses, courtesy of a rather unfortunate incident during his teenage years. Fortunately, horses aren’t something you see very often in the city. The next one’s a little less obvious, but he’s terrified of becoming his father, and what he’s going to do if everything with Abracadabra! ends up falling through. 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✓ French fries ✓ Dogs ✓ Coffee ✓ Warm weather ✗ Broccoli ✗ Horror movies ✗ Vodka ✗ Horses 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔ Born the oldest of three children in rural Kentucky, childhood wasn’t quite as picturesque for the young William Halford as most others’. His father, like everyone else in town, was a coal miner who spent more of his free time getting drunk at the local bar than taking care of his son. His mother, meanwhile, managed to juggle two different jobs at the same time. Suffice to say, Billy didn’t exactly grow up surrounded by sunshine and rainbows. But still, that was something he genuinely wanted - a loving, close-knit family, just like one of those obnoxiously American Norman Rockwell paintings he’d seen in the pages of his textbooks. His father’s idea of a bond with his son, however, was keeping the women he brought home a secret from his mother, while she thought quality time with Billy was handing him a list of chores to do as she spent her afternoons bussing tables at the local diner, and her nights at the gas station. It wasn’t long before his father took off up north with a rouged-up tart on his arm. For a few years, Billy, his siblings, and his mom got by. He had to grow up fast, of course, but he never blamed his mother, not even for a second. Carol Ann Halford was a real good parent, if you could look past the fact that she wasn’t much of a parent at all. She was still his mother, and she worked her ass off to keep a roof over their heads. Most days, Billy tried to convince himself that having no father was better than having a drunk, deadbeat loser as one. There were people all over the world who had a hell of a lot less, and Billy knew he had to count his blessings each night and say a quick prayer to whoever it was that listened, if anybody at all. That, of course, left Billy to take care of his siblings while she was away, and he was a good sport about it, too - never fussing, never complaining - at least up until high school, anyway. In school, he started to struggle, both academically and socially, though if he had to be honest, he saw that shit coming from a mile away. As his grades slipped, his frustration grew, and soon, he began to take his anger out on the people around him. There were too many things about him that could be picked on for his liking, and so he grew louder, more boisterous, and was forever throwing the first punch in a fight. You had to be living under a rock to not know his name, in fact, and Billy loved every second of it, no matter how many times he was sent to the principal’s office, knuckles bruised and bleeding. Everyone was divided when it came to Billy - you either loved or hated him, and oddly enough, he was okay with that. It put him on the map and gave him the attention he craved; the attention he lacked. Back home, his mother was none the wiser, too busy with trying to make ends meet to pay any heed. At age seventeen, Billy found himself with no real higher education prospects. He was uninvolved in extracurricular activities, uninterested in his studies, and shovelling horse poop at a neighbour’s farm for a few dollars a day. For all intents and purposes, it looked like he was heading down the same path everyone else in town did - that of a coal miner. It was a respectable living, sure, but did he really want to spend his entire life stuck in a dank cave somewhere, chipping away at rocks? But his siblings were getting old enough to take care of themselves, weren’t they? It wouldn’t hurt to take a week out of his life for a short holiday. And so, with what money they could scrape together, Billy and a few friends embarked on a trip NYC, as one last hurrah before they finally settled into a life of mundanity. Once they got there, however, things were a whole lot different from what they saw on TV. By the end of their second day there, Billy and his friends had gotten thrown out of more places than he could count for causing a ‘public disturbance’. Billy’s first brush with show business (if it can even be called that), came in the form of a bespectacled casting agent from a modelling agency. I know what you’re thinking, but however hard it might be to believe, he did use to be the hot, young thing once. Instead of returning home with his friends at the end of the week, he signed a contract with the modelling agency after an audition. For a while, that was what he did - editorials and runway modeling. It was easy enough to stand around and look pretty, but no one ever fell over themselves to book him for a show. Still, he earned enough to get by, and every month, he would send an envelope filled with some money back home. Of course, nothing lasts forever, and when his problem with authority started to catch up, job offers slowly dried up. Billy eventually turned to various odd jobs to keep himself afloat - moving furniture, mopping floors - he even worked as a morgue technician, at one point. In search of his next meal, he ended up auditioning for a bit part in an commercial. Not exactly the most exciting stuff, but it wasn’t hard to smile, look surprised, and act like the simple act pouring a drink was instead an insurmountable mountain, impossible to anyone but the most nimble of humans beings. The director was apparently sold by Billy’s ‘blandly handsome’ appearance, and called him in to do another commercial for some strange, mechanical mop. It’s around this time that Billy starts to lose it, his accent; the accent he hadn’t even realized he owned. It flavored his words with an odd, downward lilt that people noticed immediately, their attention shifting from what he’s saying to how he’s saying it. At first, they say it’s charming. That he is charming. That it’s a ‘quaint’ little accent, like they’re speaking to a child. After that, they say other things. Things in the ballpark of ‘uneducated’ and ‘uncultured’, without being so obvious. No one took him seriously. How can they, his housemate argued, when you sound like that? He started to bleed it out after that. Loud, rough words smoothing themselves out into something that’s a bit more monotone, a blend of North and South that made him sound like nothing at all. As soon as he started doing that, he managed to pull together a semi-stable career as a commercial actor. During one of the many dry periods in his life, Billy found himself sweeping floors at The Lawrence Theatre. That was also how he found out about Abracadabra!. Come to think of it, they were probably pretty desperate to fill their ranks, at that point. He still doesn’t know what possessed him to audition, but lo and behold - he actually got the gig through an impromptu, acoustic rendition of Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door played on a badly tuned guitar he found in the depths of the janitor’s closet. Truth be told, he didn’t even know that was a possibility. The schools he’d went had been ridiculously underfunded, and any art or theatre programs were but a far-off dream. Well, that was what he had to do now, anyway. And you know what they say - there’s no time like the present. 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔ ● Accents - Billy has a real knack for accents. Most acquaintances don’t even realise he’s from Kentucky until they hear how he sounds completely shitfaced. ● Singing - He’s actually pretty good at singing, just that he still has a bit of trouble with actually projecting his voice across the room. Billy doesn’t like to tell anyone, but he spent a good part of his childhood as a choirboy at his town’s congregation. Billy’s vocal color can be categorized somewhere between a dramatic and lyric baritone. ● Sturdy - Billy handles most of the heavy-lifting in Abracadabra!. It’s no sweat off his back, really, he’s been doing that kind of thing for a long time. And if he ever ends up getting into a fight, he’s happy to note that he still packs a mean right hook. ● Quick-witted - Billy is quick-witted, able to think incredibly fast on his feet. While his long-term planning isn’t quite up to par (read: terrible), he’s rather good at making split-second decisions that rescue him from sticky situations. 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ● Untrained - Billy’s never had any formal training in acting, and it shows. In fact, his approach to most things can be summed up with an age-old adage: “just wing it”. It’s been getting him by well enough, but how long that lasts is a question that’s yet to be answered. ● Tactless - Diplomacy is a huge problem for him, and he makes a terrible habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Try as he might, he’s never really had the best poker face in the world, and it tends to give him away more than not. ● Stubborn - Above all else, Billy values his pride. His facade of confidence is (mostly) unwavering, and he likes to think of himself the alpha dog in any social situation he’s in. Even in the most dire of situations, he rarely resorts to asking for help. 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Supporting Actor - Billy’s acting isn’t anything to write home about, but he can still follow stage directions and say his lines. Most of the time, what he ends up doing is more of a glorified bit part than anything, but his skill at accents comes in handy for that. Stagehand - When he’s not on stage himself, you can often find Billy running around backstage, moving props, setting up lights, and making sure no one gets killed and/or maimed by any falling scenery. 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖. ▔▔▔▔ ● Billy owns a 2 year-old rescue dog named Romeo. He's a mutt, mostly Rottweiler and American Bulldog, but he loves him all the same, because come on - look at that face. ● Benjamin Coffin III in Rent, or Adolfo Pirelli in Sweeney Todd.

Felicity resta de son côté, le dos tourné vers la radio et Gareth. Quelques instants de musique se passèrent avant que le battement de diverses choses frappant la table ne la noyât. "Est-ce que c'est cette merde hors marque, ou est-ce que c'est la vraie merde Chef-Boyardee. Parce que je pourrais aller chercher un chef Boyardee." Elle s'est finalement roulée hors du lit et s'est penchée fatiguée contre le cadre de la porte. Ses cheveux frisqués de statique du lit et ses vêtements étaient tous enveloppés autour d'elle drôle, suggérant une nuit difficile de sommeil. Les sacs sous ses yeux prêtés à la vue, bien que l'on pourrait aussi contribuer à sa « condition ». Elle a croisé les bras au-dessus de sa poitrine et a regardé Gareth faire ce qu'il faisait.

Name: Felicity Nagle Gender: Female Age: Currently 22 Appearance: Felicity is a small girl with dark brown-black hair, tanned skin and brown eyes. She's skinny and fairly average. She keeps her wavy hair tied back in a ponytail most of the time and is often seen completely covered (even if it's really hot) Personality: Much like her half-zombie counterpart, Murphy, Felicity has a pretty poor attitude (particularly towards the whole zompocalypse thing), though, she's a bit more reserved about it. She can be friendly and is serious on her mission to beat Murphy to California. She views it as more of a competition - perhaps more than she ought to. She's fairly fearless and will often rush into things. Weapon of choice: Felicity carries a small handgun that she had picked up from one of the dead guards in the juvenile detention center, but it only holds one bullet - a bullet that's been in the gun since the apocalypse came to her little corner of the world. Otherwise, she uses a staff she made from a tree branch. Bio: Felicity grew up in a small, Northern Michigan town. Daughter to Frank and Ahawi Nagle, sister to Nelson. The family was poor and Frank spent most of his time at work. Ahawi was a stay at home mother who clearly did not enjoy her life. Felicity was arrested and charged for attempted murder when she held a knife to her mother's throat. She claims that Ahawi was beating Nelson and Felicity had done the deed out of protection for her infant brother. Nelson was put into foster care and Felicity was put into a juvenile detention center. When the zompocalypse came about, she was literally among the last to know. When everything went to shit, she was taken into the lab and injected with the vaccine in an attempt to recreate the Murphy (as it had become somewhat common knowledge that he had survived being bitten). Much like him, the lab was overrun and she was cornered and bitten..... and lived without turning. (I might change this later. I'm not sure I really like it, but, for now, it's a good base.)

C'est de la merde comestible, donc je te remercie d'être un peu reconnaissante et de ne pas me donner de tes conneries à ce sujet. Il s'est emparé d'une boîte de la table et l'a jetée dans sa direction. C'était le chef Boyardee mini ravioli. Gareth a tiré le haut d'une boîte lui-même et a creusé quelques fourchettes dans son sac. Il l'a jeté à la félicité et a commencé à creuser dans la canette froide. "Un plan sur ce que tu veux faire?" Il a demandé autour d'une bouche pleine de nouilles. "Tu continues à parler de ce labo CDC, mais nous n'avons pas été aller nulle part. Pensez-vous que nous deux pourrions le faire par nos solitaires?"

Name: Lawrence Macintosh Gender: Male Age: 27 Personality: Lawrence is a rather subdued individual who is known for his gentle spirit and disability to say "no" to others. While that is what is seen on the outside, something very different is on the inside. From years of verbal and physical abuse from his mother as well as being taken advantage of by others, Lawrence has dark and sometimes murderous thoughts although he never acts on them. Anger is an emotion he rarely ever shows to others, although, when he does it is very violent. Otherwise, 90% of the time, Lawrence is an innocent teddy bear. If he ever does something violent, he is immediately regretful afterword and is ashamed. He has almost no back bone so saying no to someone or standing up to them is something he rarely does. Weapon of choice: Axe Bio: Lawrence was born to Frank and Winona Macintosh on a ranch in Northern America. He had two other siblings, all of which died before the age of 20. His younger brother died at the age of 8 from a cattle stampede and his sister died at the age of 18 during a complicated child birth. Eventually, Lawrence's father died as well from a heart attack, leaving Lawrence and his mother alone to tend to the ranch. Having two of his siblings and his father die in the span of a few years, Lawrence decided to leave home at the age of 17, right after graduating high school, to work in Northern Canada at a lumber camp. He needed to get away from his mother and from the house that only reminded him of his dead family. He worked and stayed at the lumber camp for 9 years. For the last two, he received repetitive letters from his mother saying that she was getting ill and that they were in danger of losing the ranch. Finally, after two years of receiving these letters begging him to come back home, Lawrence decided that he would. Seeing as there was word of a highly contagious virus going around, Lawrence chose to drive back to his hometown instead of taking a plane. Along the way, he saw many strange things. But when he tried to cross the border into America, it was very tricky and a series of unfortunate events left him stranded in Michigan.

Les voitures sont nulles. Les voitures étaient vraiment nulles. Je dois conduire une voiture aspirée comme un arnaqueur qui vient d'avoir une photo de NOS. Gareth soupira et maniaça la roue à gauche, tournant vers le bas une petite ruelle. Le grand camion était à peine encastré entre les bâtiments, mais il avait beaucoup d'entraînement, et il avait arraché les miroirs de vue latérale la première fois dans cette ruelle, donc ça n'avait plus d'importance. Il a arrêté le camion en dessous d'une évasion incendie et l'a jeté dans le parc. Il a fallu un peu de manœuvre mais il a été agile et en moins d'une minute il avait les clés dans sa poche et avait glissé sur le siège des conducteurs et dans le dos. La fenêtre arrière a glissé et il a forcé un sac de poche rempli de provisions à travers l'ouverture étroite. Le sac s'est posé dans le lit avec une bouffée de bruit et il l'a rapidement suivi, en arrêtant un moment pour écouter les sons du témoin des morts. Rien. Il s'est emparé du sac et a tiré la sangle sur sa tête avant de sauter et d'attraper la poignée de l'échelle dans l'échappée d'incendie. Cinq minutes plus tard, il poussait la fenêtre au cinquième étage de la haute montée et glissa dans l'appartement faiblement éclairé. Blue Oyster Cult's (Don't) Peur que le Reaper jouait sur la radio statique remplie et il ne pouvait pas aider un sourire. "On dirait que Z a encore du bon goût dans la musique," a-t-il appelé. "Entrez, Felicity. J'ai trouvé des raviolis pendant que j'étais dehors." Sans attendre une réponse, il a jeté le sac sur une table et a commencé à retirer de la nourriture en conserve et d'autres divers rayons solaires.

Name: Lawrence Macintosh Gender: Male Age: 27 Personality: Lawrence is a rather subdued individual who is known for his gentle spirit and disability to say "no" to others. While that is what is seen on the outside, something very different is on the inside. From years of verbal and physical abuse from his mother as well as being taken advantage of by others, Lawrence has dark and sometimes murderous thoughts although he never acts on them. Anger is an emotion he rarely ever shows to others, although, when he does it is very violent. Otherwise, 90% of the time, Lawrence is an innocent teddy bear. If he ever does something violent, he is immediately regretful afterword and is ashamed. He has almost no back bone so saying no to someone or standing up to them is something he rarely does. Weapon of choice: Axe Bio: Lawrence was born to Frank and Winona Macintosh on a ranch in Northern America. He had two other siblings, all of which died before the age of 20. His younger brother died at the age of 8 from a cattle stampede and his sister died at the age of 18 during a complicated child birth. Eventually, Lawrence's father died as well from a heart attack, leaving Lawrence and his mother alone to tend to the ranch. Having two of his siblings and his father die in the span of a few years, Lawrence decided to leave home at the age of 17, right after graduating high school, to work in Northern Canada at a lumber camp. He needed to get away from his mother and from the house that only reminded him of his dead family. He worked and stayed at the lumber camp for 9 years. For the last two, he received repetitive letters from his mother saying that she was getting ill and that they were in danger of losing the ranch. Finally, after two years of receiving these letters begging him to come back home, Lawrence decided that he would. Seeing as there was word of a highly contagious virus going around, Lawrence chose to drive back to his hometown instead of taking a plane. Along the way, he saw many strange things. But when he tried to cross the border into America, it was very tricky and a series of unfortunate events left him stranded in Michigan.

Felicity s'est ébranlée devant le commentaire de Gareth et a ensuite tourné son attention vers la fenêtre quand il l'a fait. Parler du diable et il apparaîtra. Comme si sur le signal, il semblait que quelqu'un était littéralement venu à leur porte. Qu'ils soient ou non vraiment sympathiques pourrait être une autre histoire. Elle s'est appuyée dans sa chambre contre le mur, hors de vue. Elle a croisé les bras au-dessus de sa poitrine et a écouté la conversation à l'extérieur.

Name: Felicity Nagle Gender: Female Age: Currently 22 Appearance: Felicity is a small girl with dark brown-black hair, tanned skin and brown eyes. She's skinny and fairly average. She keeps her wavy hair tied back in a ponytail most of the time and is often seen completely covered (even if it's really hot) Personality: Much like her half-zombie counterpart, Murphy, Felicity has a pretty poor attitude (particularly towards the whole zompocalypse thing), though, she's a bit more reserved about it. She can be friendly and is serious on her mission to beat Murphy to California. She views it as more of a competition - perhaps more than she ought to. She's fairly fearless and will often rush into things. Weapon of choice: Felicity carries a small handgun that she had picked up from one of the dead guards in the juvenile detention center, but it only holds one bullet - a bullet that's been in the gun since the apocalypse came to her little corner of the world. Otherwise, she uses a staff she made from a tree branch. Bio: Felicity grew up in a small, Northern Michigan town. Daughter to Frank and Ahawi Nagle, sister to Nelson. The family was poor and Frank spent most of his time at work. Ahawi was a stay at home mother who clearly did not enjoy her life. Felicity was arrested and charged for attempted murder when she held a knife to her mother's throat. She claims that Ahawi was beating Nelson and Felicity had done the deed out of protection for her infant brother. Nelson was put into foster care and Felicity was put into a juvenile detention center. When the zompocalypse came about, she was literally among the last to know. When everything went to shit, she was taken into the lab and injected with the vaccine in an attempt to recreate the Murphy (as it had become somewhat common knowledge that he had survived being bitten). Much like him, the lab was overrun and she was cornered and bitten..... and lived without turning. (I might change this later. I'm not sure I really like it, but, for now, it's a good base.)

Celui qui a inventé la caféine méritait tous les prix du plus haut calibre. A ce stade Lucas ne fonctionnait que sur les stimulations de la puissance du café, des éclaboussures d'eau froide et de la volonté pure. S'il n'avait pas manqué de boissons énergisantes et de pilules de caféine il y a un moment, celles-ci seraient également sur la liste. La vie d'un étudiant d'université était sans merci et implacable — des examens et des essais s'accumulant l'un sur l'autre sans fin visible en vue. Ajouter un tas de responsabilités en plus de celle de s'enregistrer avec sa mère, travailler comme directeur de scène dans une compagnie de théâtre en difficulté et jongler avec un travail supplémentaire à temps partiel sur le côté, Lucas a été surmené et sous-payé. C'était bon, les êtres humains n'ont pas besoin de dormir. La lumière du soleil a apporté des éclaboussures de couleur à l'appartement drab, inondant les teintes gris terne de la cuisine avec l'éclairage beaucoup trop lumineux pour quelqu'un qui a obtenu moins que les heures de sommeil recommandées. Lucas squatte dans la luminosité alors qu'il a balayé une serviette à travers ses cheveux mouillés, sachant que les effets d'une douche froide de glace pour nettoyer sa tête et se rafraîchir était seulement temporairement efficace pour garder l'inévitable mal de tête à la baie. Incérémonieusement, il s'approcha pour dessiner les rideaux, en enveloppant la pièce dans l'obscurité relative. Lucas entendait sa mère le châtier. Quelque chose sur la façon dont absorber la vitamine D important; mais la lumière n'aidait pas Lucas, et il n'aiderait certainement pas son colocataire. En parlant de ce colocataire... A ce stade, il était devenu un peu courant pour lui de réveiller Noé le matin (à moins que Lucas n'ait rejoint Noé pour boire ses problèmes à l'oubli). Il s'appuya contre le cadre de la porte et enleva ses bras brusquement contre la porte fermée de Noé. Noah, réveille-toi. On a des trucs à faire. Les gueules de bois avaient un moyen de faire résonner le son le plus banal et le plus normal comme un cri torturé dans la tête de quelqu'un. Le coup sur la porte de Noé n'était pas seulement un bruit bref, non, ça a duré. Il résonnait comme formé à l'intérieur d'un canyon, devenant plus fort et plus fort avec chaque croûte répétitive d'os et de chair sur le bois. Alors, bien sûr, les mots devaient se former. C'était humain, n'est-ce pas? Parler, parler, communiquer... seuls les gens l'ont fait. Noah n'avait pas l'impression d'être quelqu'un en ce moment. Sa tête lui faisait trop mal pour même essayer de se forcer à se réveiller, et son corps était lourd de sueur et plein de maladies. Non, il n'était pas une personne. Aujourd'hui, il serait vide. L'obscurité sans fin qui continuait à s'avaler comme ces damnés mots combattus à travers son esprit afin de relayer ses damnés colocataires informations. Noah gémit en réponse, jetant un oreiller doucement à la porte dans un effort pour faire taire Lucas. Il n'y avait à peine qu'un gâchis qui se liait au sol, et Noé gémissait à nouveau. Quelle merde? Ferme ta gueule, Lucas. Le ton de Lucas n'était pas aussi exaspéré qu'il pourrait l'être, ayant déjà pris l'habitude de ce scénario. Il battit encore une fois la porte pour une bonne mesure, sachant exactement comment elle affecterait Noé. Samedi, nous avons ces réunions oh-so-productives aujourd'hui où nous observons la mort lente d'Abracadabra! Sors ton cul de ton lit et je te laisserai tranquille. "Arrêtez les coups." Noé a failli supplier, atteignant impuissant pour l'oreiller qu'il avait jeté auparavant, "Fuck. Donnez-moi une seconde, d'accord?... Sa voix tranquille se répète dans son propre crâne, froide et sans émotion comme toujours. Noé tenait ses couvertures au-dessus de sa tête, comptant jusqu'à dix vers l'arrière et vers l'avant jusqu'à ce qu'il ait pu voir de façon cohérente les chiffres derrière ses yeux. Cinq minutes plus tard, Noé s'asseyait et forçait les yeux ouverts, prenant de force la lumière grise hideuse du matin. C'est encore cinq minutes avant que Noé ne s'ouvre la porte pour éblouir son colocataire à blanc, tu es sur la glace mince, Olson. La porte de la chambre s'ouvrit complètement et il se tenait nain par Lucas, mais c'était généralement comme ça que les choses allaient avec eux. Il a essayé de donner à l'autre homme une poutre faible mais a pensé contre elle au dernier moment possible, choisissant de juste éblouir et attendre qu'il prenne un indice. Quand ne le suis-je pas?La personnalité piquante de Lucas s'est assurée que lorsqu'il s'est aventuré sur de la glace mince, il s'est souvent emparé sans tact. Avec un shrug nonchalant, il obligea Noé à demander et s'éloigna de son chemin. En descendant jusqu'à son sac à dos, Lucas a balayé sa bouteille d'eau à moitié vide de la poche latérale et l'a jeté dans la direction générale de Noé. Il s'agissait d'une petite offrande de paix, bien qu'elle ait été offerte avec ardeur et livrée avec franchise. "Tu as l'air d'une merde, mec." Lucas a fait un commentaire offensif, se retourneant sur le canapé. Il savait qu'il n'avait probablement pas l'air mieux lui-même, mais au moins un état d'épuisement perpétuel était mieux que de se battre contre une mauvaise gueule de bois. Arrivant son bras sur ses yeux fatigués et jouant ses longues jambes au bout du canapé, Lucas s'installa pour un bref moment de détente jusqu'à ce qu'ils fussent obligés de partir. Quelle surprise, j'étais sur le point de vous dire la même chose. Il prit une rapide perruque, lavant une partie du goût désagréable que le matin apporta, et comme il tomba dans la salle de bain et se mit à son rituel habituel le matin, la seule chose qui lui rappelait de se réveiller finit par être sa migraine. Une vingtaine de minutes plus tard, Noé s'enfuit silencieusement dans le salon. La serviette autour de sa taille a fait peu pour attraper les gouttelettes d'eau tombant de ses cheveux trempés et le menton, bien qu'il a tenu ensemble ce peu de modestie qu'il avait laissé pour offrir à son colocataire piquant. Il a traîné un regard constant sur le salon, à la recherche de Lucas parmi les meubles clairsemés jusqu'à ce qu'il s'installe enfin sur la masse sur leur canapé. Une étincelle d'irritation coupa à travers son nuage habituel de sécheresse, mais il la laissa mijoter un moment pendant qu'il retourna dans sa chambre pour se changer, claquant sa porte comme une première tentative pour réveiller son colocataire. Sa deuxième tentative est venue comme un grondement monotone de, "Lève-toi, crétin."Une fois qu'il avait changé en quelque chose de réellement présentable. Avec un gémissement Lucas s'est arraché du canapé, ses membres et son torse se sentent déconnectés et beaucoup trop lourds. Après ce qui se sentait comme un effort herculéen, Lucas se mit aux pieds et s'étendit jusqu'à ce que plusieurs parties de son corps craquent et éclatent de fatigant, mais avec satisfaction. Bien que son esprit était enroulé de sommeil et de douleurs avec le manque de cela, un coup d'œil rapide à l'horloge ticking lui a dit que le temps était rapidement épuisé. Aussi pétulant et difficile que soit Lucas, il était toujours à l'heure et méprisé d'être en retard. Emballant quelques objets de dernière minute dans son sac à dos et en entrant dans ses chaussures, Lucas a déménagé avec une vitesse surprenante pour quelqu'un si fatigué. C'était de la routine — réveillez-vous après avoir pris n'importe quel coup de chat qu'il pouvait se permettre, giflez une certaine vigilance dans son visage (littéralement, se gifler fait du travail), et passez à l'endroit suivant, la tâche suivante, et l'obligation suivante. Avec ses poches pour ses clés, Lucas s'est retourné sur certains coussins de canapé et les a creusés entre eux pour les pêcher. Il devrait arrêter de dormir sur le canapé. C'est parti, Auguste. Notre char attend. Noé hoche la tête, loin d'être soulagé par son matin précipité, bien que son inconfort fût impossible à remarquer à travers son épais masque d'indifférence. Il a pris encore quelques instants de leur temps maintenant partagé pour glisser sur ses baskets, et assez tôt les colocataires étaient à la porte. La voiture était aussi silencieuse et triste que la petite ville dans laquelle ils vivaient. Seulement un nombre limité de piétons ont traversé les rues, mais d'une certaine manière, chacun d'entre eux semblait avoir une lueur de mort et s'est éparpillé devant la voiture. L'irritation de Lucas n'est montée qu'à chaque fois qu'il a dû marcher sur les freins pour empêcher que le sang s'éclabousse sur le pare-brise, et chaque feu stop qui insistait sur le rouge clignotant chaque fois qu'ils s'approchaient. Rouge. Au moins c'était une éclaboussure de couleur pour une ville grise autrement sans vie, et une vie terne et incolore. Était-il vraiment étonnant que leur compagnie de production ait échoué quand il n'y avait personne pour remplir le théâtre? Tirant dans le parking avec un travail de parking impeccable, Lucas a pris un moment pour soupirer et appuyer sur son front contre le volant. Parfois, il a fallu beaucoup de détermination pour que Lucas prenne le pouvoir à travers ces réunions. Un réaliste au cœur même, rassure qu'ils pourraient d'une manière ou d'une autre le faire vouloir claquer la tête contre le mur. L'optimisme ne convenait pas à Lucas, et avoir à tenir des promesses vides et de faux espoirs était parfois plus qu'il ne pouvait supporter. Si c'était à lui, Lucas dirait à tout le monde que s'ils ne travaillaient pas tous leur cul, ils seraient éteints d'ici mardi. Cela explique pourquoi Lucas n'était pas responsable, probablement. Les colocataires marchaient ensemble dans le théâtre comme d'habitude. Il semblait que chaque fois que Lucas marchait dans l'espace usé, il a remarqué quelque chose qui s'est effondré qu'il n'avait jamais fait auparavant. Aujourd'hui, c'était les tapis qui pilaient aux bords, qui fronçaient et fraichaient vers le haut avant qu'ils n'atteignent le mur. La magie d'une production théâtrale était qu'elle pouvait encore, d'une manière ou d'une autre, distraire de l'auditorium créaque jusqu'au point où elle n'avait plus d'importance. Si c'est bien fait, même le plus bas, la scène shabby pourrait être un succès. C'était Abracadabra! capable de tirer ça? C'était difficile à dire parfois, mais Lucas, une pensée optimiste pour la journée était qu'ils pouvaient peut-être. Regarde ce que le chien a traîné, Lucas a murmuré sous son souffle. C'était censé être un commentaire plein d'esprit en voyant le chien de Billy. Il n'y avait pas de mauvaise intention derrière, mais comme avec tout ce que Lucas a fait, il a été jumelé avec un bord sarcastique assez tranchant pour couper à travers les rideaux. Aujourd'hui, Lucas a dit, élevant sa voix pour être réellement entendu cette fois. Bonjour, c'était pas Lucas. Un simple clin d'œil suffit pour un salut. Noah, d'un autre côté, n'a rien dit au groupe lent qui s'est formé dans le théâtre, et a plutôt dérivé directement vers le chien de Billy. Il est tombé silencieusement sur ses genoux et a salué l'animal avec un doux grognement, grattant habilement derrière son oreille dans leur salut habituel. Il a passé le propriétaire des canines un seul coup d'œil, se branlant à Billy à travers l'éblouissement des lumières de la maison. Sa gueule de bois s'estompait si légèrement, chassée par le temps, mais son épuisement était encore clairement enfoncé sur son visage. Il s'est finalement tenu et s'est déplacé vers le côté, abaissant sa tête pour se concentrer entièrement sur les orteils éraflés de ses fausses bottes en cuir. Il en avait tellement fini avec cette rencontre, malgré son arrivée, et après quelques instants de silence, il s'est mis à taper l'orteil, comptant chaque seconde avec le rythme inégal. Peut-être qu'il frappera son orteil assez dur pour détruire tout le théâtre un jour, et peut-être qu'il aura la chance de se faire écraser par les décombres. Oh, quelle belle pensée déprimante. la collaboration entre les yeux et les cauchemars

Male | 21 | Homosexual 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Noah Auguste is more of a ghost than a person. He is a man pulled directly from a chiaroscuro sketch, a creature most may not notice at first glance. He's the living definition of a wallflower by appearance alone thanks to his emotionless and homely face. Noah is not conventionally attractive, rather his face is quite forgettable and seems to be steeped in the over saturated filter of an old photograph. The only real color to his appearance comes from his hooded but bright blue eyes, which seem ever brighter compared to his mousy hair and pale, pale skin. While he may possess beautiful features, like his aforementioned eyes and his plush lips, Noah seems to take it upon himself to appear as unassuming as possible. He is stocky with muscles built from working with his father's construction firm, though it fails to make up where he stands height wise. Standing at a mere 5'4", his height adds once more to his ability to blend in to any real life scenario, and he drops down to a sad 5'2" thanks to his perpetual slouch. Despite these short comings, Noah walks with a sense of self-preservation. He does not lack confidence (hell, maybe you can't lack what you never had), but instead of holding his head high he walks quickly and quietly as if to protect himself from an invisible force walking behind him. His attire matches his protective motions, often hiding him away in plain sight with dark shirts, dark jeans, and unassuming though accentuating outfits. When he is not moving from place to place like most humans do he is entirely still, observing those around him. His stare is often cold and distant, and while it may appear that Noah is glaring at someone, he is, in reality, day dreaming. People watching is also a hobby of his, though this is merely out of curiosity towards others. Apathy draws Noah's usual expressions into that of a statue. He rarely smiles, rarely frowns, and on top of it all seems to find those who do emote to be annoying. His bored expressions may read as aloof, and that would be because they are, but there are times when he may tilt his head quizzically or huff in exasperation. Those few signs of life are rare but enough to remind others that Noah is, in fact, a human being. 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Noah is probably the least outwardly emotional person you may ever meet. Drenched in a thick coating of self-made apathy, he walks through his everyday life looking and reacting to everything like a photograph. He is not so much a person rather than the implication of a person-- he walks and talks and breathes, but he never shows any sign that he feels anything from such humane interactions. Despite his apparent lack of emotion, Noah is far from silent. He is relatively blunt in conversations, and if ever caught in the middle of a debate he is not afraid to speak his mind. To those he tolerates he is protective and watchful, though does not outwardly voice his concerns for them. In his own mind, Noah is a volatile storm. He often switches from long, depression-based lack of motivation and days of subdued mania where he merely throws himself into work to keep himself busy. His general aloofness is not exactly a cover for his apparent mental issues, rather it is a symptom of his attempt to cover up whatever is going on within him. Of course, this habit makes Noah a rather secretive person, and though he may not mean any harm by his self destructive attitude, those few and far between friends he has since lost were perhaps most hurt by his wish to remain silent about himself. When involved with other people for a project or in the theater company itself, Noah does his share and nothing more. His ideology is mostly reliant on the thought that "he can carry his own weight", and once he has he leaves the rest of the work to those within the group. Noah isn't lazy, per say, rather he lacks motivation to do anything other than what is assigned to him. When working in the theater, however, Noah seems oddly more attuned with himself and the objects and people around him. While acting he is ridiculously responsive, and though he has trouble improvising or keeping rhythm it is obvious that he enjoys himself just the same. Noah is, in all honesty, everything and nothing to a fault. He is honest to a fault. He keeps promises to a fault. He is quiet and morbid and protective and volatile, all to a fault. He feels absolutely nothing, and yet still has the need to drown out that white noise with loud parties and a ridiculous amount of alcohol. The dark feelings that Noah is hiding will perhaps never be revealed, as he works hard to keep himself distanced from people who could threaten to peel down his mental walls, but those who do try to reach out may just find a scared, introspective boy just ready to lose it. 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✓ Alcohol and cigarettes ✓ Small animals and children ✓ Cold, quiet weather ✓ Acting; or rather being someone other than himself ✗ Hard drugs ✗ His father ✗ People entering his personal space ✗ People who show intense emotions 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔ Life in the slums of the East Coast wasn't exactly all sunshine and beach times. Noah was born to squat in a three roomed apartment on the Jersey Shore with his twin sister, Beatrice, and his abusive father James Auguste. Noah never knew his mother, or, rather, he had never heard mention of her in the house. As Bea and Noah grew older they just assumed she up and left after they were born, and honestly neither of them could blame her. No sane woman would have been able to deal with the manic asshole that their father was. Noah's early life consisted of getting locked in cupboards, running down to the corner store to pick up his dad's cigars, and playing pretend with his sister who recieved the same abuse and then some. They lived in that seaside town for ten long years, dealing with their father and the other drunks that cruised through the salty-smelling streets when it was off seasons. A few months after their tenth birthdays, however, James came home with a letter in ahnd and announced to his children that they would be moving out of state for work. Bea and Noah were, unexpectedly, excited for this change of pace. James seemed less agitated at home with the upcoming move (when questioned why by Noah, he merely responded by saying "I'm getting more pay, kid") thus the twins were left to their own devices as they packed up their meagar life in New Jersey and set off to a brand new house set up in Greenville, Ohio. Noah's middle school and high school life was spent battling with depressive thoughts and keeping his sister above water as she fell into the same habits as him. His father set him off to work for his construction company as soon as he was fit enough to start lifting rubble and work machinery, and that with the added stress of school work and keeping his twin sane muddled down into him until Noah was left only with a will to work and nothing more. He lost any interest in himself and his hobbies, lost his own thoughts in favor of keeping track of his sister's, and gained a new found disease known as 'apathy'. The only thing that kept Noah somewhat intriugued was Greenville High's theater and English prorgrams. He found himself working tirelessly after school one sophmore dya in order to perfect how to use the old, half-broken light board and memorize all of the actor's lines on stage in order to keep his queues on time. He read Shakespearian monolouges in and after class, and found a new love for musicals and plays with each ticket he bought to the town's local programs. Of course, his father wasn't quite a big fan of his son's "odd, stupid, girly" interests, and Bea could care less about him as the end of their high school lives slowly stretched forwrad to swallow them whole. Eventually Noah became fed up with his home life. Bea was all prepared to shell off for college, all ready to leave her brother behind after their four long years of keeping her away from all the destructive thoughts she craved, and Noah felt betrayed by her actions to leave him behind. In retaliation he applied to a college in Indiana and eventually found himself on a one way trip to St. James, Indiana. He left behind his drunk and miserable father, his thankless sister, his broken friendships and his broken house. He left behind what ever traces remained of the old Noah and found a new shell to inhibit in his home away from home. And eventually, after a three months of living on campus and exploring the small town's delights, he stumbled upon the Abrcadabra theater comapny, and the rest was history. 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔ ● Acting: A talent spurred from countless English class readings and late night Shakespearean monologues, Noah has a keen ability of simply capturing the essence of whatever role is assigned to him. Of course, some parts are easier than others (he generally favors the pessimistic male leads) but given enough time to prepare Noah will do reasonably well as whomever he is instructed to be. ● Technical Theater: Before Noah was known in the company as an actor he worked backstage as a lighting technician. He both designed some of the light designs for some of the old productions as well as worked to adjust and move the tech during show time. He still goes behind the scenes nowadays when not acting up a storm on stage. ● Calm: In terms of personality Noah isn't..... Much, to say the least. He lacks the proper motivation to actively emote and seems fine with just sitting in a corner and staring at a wall rather than socializing. On the high chance that the company is running through some anxiety, however, Noah is the rock that can help keep people together. His calm, emotionless words may be blunt at times but are trained enough to quell whatever panic is getting the person in question in a jam. 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ● Dancing: Actually, anything involving rhythm (he has trouble learning songs during the first few weeks of rehearsals too). Noah may have decent timing in scenes, but when it comes to dancing to a beat he has two left feet. ● Emoting: Noah in general has issues revealing what he's truly feeling. When not playing the part of another person on stage he is horribly apathetic, almost to the point of being robotic. Because of his apathy he has trouble sharing his own thoughts, ideas, and feelings. ● Heights: Perhaps the worst phobia to have for a tech-crew member, Noah has an abnormal fear of being high up. While he never outwardly says anything to anyone, his demeanor drastically changes when he is in a high spot. Despite his fright, Noah frequents roofs to smoke, and when asked why he merely responds with, "I'm feeling." 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Tech Crew – Noah works with the lighting and sound crew to ensure that the more extravagant productions are nicely lit and sounding as pitch perfect as possible. Though he hasn't put much time into lights due to his new found interest in actually BEING in the shoes, Noah seems to have a soft spot in his heart for light design and sound effects. Actor – Though the revelation for this role was recent, Noah has taken to his new title quite nicely. Having always been a fan of monologues and being in the mindset of someone other than himself, he easily slipped into the mindset of an actor. Still, he has a lot to learn about being on stage. 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖. ▔▔▔▔ ● He works two jobs besides the company and college; one as a waiter in a local diner and the other as a valet at a high class restaurant an party venue. Both gigs are part time and help keep his tongue wet and his tuition paid for ● His favorite play is actually a lesser known short piece called "Waiting for Death", though the role he would most like to play would have to be Tom Wingfield from The Glass Menagerie.

Billy les pouces dans le script un peu gentiment, comme s'il craignait que les pages s'effondrent à tout moment. En effet, la toute première page a été hap hasardeusement enregistré-slash-stapled ensemble, un peu comme le monstre de Frankenstein ; et là une mystérieuse tache brune en forme d'Australie ornant le coin inférieur droit. Il ressemble à un café, bien qu'il ne puisse pas être sûr à 100%, et il ne veut vraiment pas risquer un reniflement. Au lieu de cela, il essaie de se concentrer sur ce qui est vraiment important - le contenu du script lui-même. Un inspecteur Calls n'est pas quelque chose qu'il se souvient très bien, et comme Art a dit, il doit avoir absorbé toutes les dernières quantités de connaissances sur le jeu par contact de tête à page avec ses manuels. Mais il regarde juste à temps pour attraper le regard qu'Art jette vers lui, gelant comme un cerf dans les phares. Oui. Ce n'est pas qu'il ne croit pas en ses propres capacités. Il a eu sa juste part de concerts d'acteur - tous les deux avec Abracadabra! et même avant - mais les parties de bits sont ce qu'il obtient habituellement, peut-être un rôle de soutien s'il a de la chance. Pour l'amour de Dieu, le plus grand temps d'écran qu'il ait jamais eu était dans un infomercial pour un déchirement de la Shamwow!. Quand c'est quelque chose d'aussi grand, une occasion de faire ou de rompre pour l'entreprise, il n'est pas sûr qu'il soit le bon homme pour le travail. Ils avaient besoin de quelqu'un d'expérience, de quelqu'un qui pouvait livrer une performance stellaire sans l'ombre d'un doute pour fabriquer des diamants à partir de charbon. Un mauvais geste, ils pourraient dire au revoir à leur financement, et Abracadabra! serait finalement un navire coulé au lieu d'un naufrage. Attendez. Peut-être qu'il est un peu trop négatif. Il y a peut-être eu un nuage de tempête au-dessus de sa tête, qui l'a frappé de grêle. Tout s'est bien passé jusqu'ici, donc il n'y a vraiment aucune raison de paniquer, non? Si le pire vient à pire, il pourrait juste laisser quelqu'un d'autre prendre le rôle. Après un long moment, Billy parvient finalement à arrêter de gifler à Art, et retourne son attention sur le scénario embrayé dans ses mains. L'inspecteur Goole était un personnage qui commandait le respect, solide et inébranlable dans son but. Il y a aussi quelque chose sur la façon dont l'inspecteur interroge chaque membre de la famille Birling. Il est clair qu'il en sait plus que ce qu'il laisse passer, mais l'inspecteur Goole est une véritable identité qui ne vient jamais vraiment à la lumière. C'était un vrai inspecteur? Une manifestation physique de la culpabilité des Birlings? Ou un héraut surnaturel et omniscient de ce qui devait arriver? Mais ce coup soudain d'introspection est rapidement stoppé par une voix sans effort qui ne pourrait appartenir qu'à un seul M. Wilson. Billy n'est pas un expert, mais il connaît un artiste quand il en voit un. Ce que Noa a manqué d'expérience, il l'a inventé avec enthousiasme, une réserve apparemment infinie de charme, et un ensemble incroyable de sourcils. Bien sûr, il est aussi sympathique sur scène qu'il l'est dans la vraie vie. Le rôle de l'inspecteur, cependant, n'est pas vraiment à ce sujet, bien qu'il n'avait aucun doute que Noa pourrait le faire s'il le voulait vraiment. Si vous pensez que vous pouvez le faire, Billy le contre, levant un sourcil, mais une seconde plus tard, les coins de ses lèvres se transforment en un sourire lopé pour montrer qu'il ne porte aucune mauvaise volonté. Pendant un bref moment, il s'arrête, semble envisager quelque chose. Mais si ça ne vous dérange pas que je vous dise, vous me semblez plus d'un M. Birling. Je veux dire, tu as déjà tout le bluster, blustering shtick vers le bas pat. Bien que si l'inspecteur est ce que vous êtes vraiment après... Il laisse la déclaration suspendue, et la ponctue d'une punaise. À la fin de la journée, Billy s'accorde avec le rôle qu'ils lui donnent. Il espère juste qu'ils pourront tout faire à temps.

Male | 31 | Homosexual 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Billy Halford stands at an impressive 6’2”, though with his tendency to slouch, he usually appears a little shorter than he actually is. It’s mostly out of laziness, and his posture is terrible; shoulders rolled forward, hands stuck deep in his pockets. Pretty much the only time he grows to full height is when he feels threatened, and has been known to be truly terrifying when he does so. Fortunately, however, this side of him is not something people see very often. Turquoise green eyes always seem to glimmer with something akin to amusement; and these days, Billy can often be seen chewing away at tabs of gum in an attempt to break a near-lifelong smoking habit. While he used to be a tad insecure about a crooked front tooth, he’s long since gotten past it. He likes to keep his dirty blonde hair cropped close in a messy undercut, though it inevitably grows out into a loose shag when he forgets to pay a visit to the barber. While he prefers to stay clean shaven, he often gets lazy and gives his scruff free rein. Upon closer inspection, one will also find a light smattering of freckles across the bridge of his nose and cheekbones. Other than that, he does have a few notable scars. One of which is an inch or two under his right eye, stretching from the top of his ear, and another, smaller one cutting vertically through the eyebrow. Both of them were from a fight he’d gotten into a couple years back, where he ended up with the pointy end of a broken bottle to the face. Additionally, the surface of his skin is peppered by a maze of tiny battle scars, most of them souvenirs from past altercations. That said, he’s not super built, but still pretty solid, and it’s largely due to his genes rather than trips to the gym. He’d almost have a swimmer’s physique, but lately, it’s been softened by one too many Big Macs, though he likes to think his latest part-time gig as a mover keeps him fit enough. His voice, as is befitting of his appearance, is a deep, rumbling timbre, but Billy doesn’t quite sound like he used to, after years spent away from his hometown. Most of the time, his accent can be described as generic - bland, even - a monotonous mix of North and South. In times of extreme emotion, however, he reverts back to the lazy, slack-jawed inflection characteristic to a native of the Appalachias. ‘Accidental Hipster’ is probably the best way to describe Billy’s non-existent fashion sense. He doesn’t put much effort into keeping up appearances, but somehow, still has a knack for turning his déshabillé to his advantage. When it gets chilly, he resorts to heavy flannels and/or ugly woollen sweaters. Paired with his positively ancient jeans and work boots, the whole aesthetic almost seems to scream ‘lumberjack’. On warmer days, well, he dresses exactly the same - except instead of hideous, moth-eaten sweaters scavenged from the thrift store, it’s ratty, old t-shirts and wifebeaters. Billy also seems to wear a lot of jewelry for a guy, though it’s mostly leather and beaded bracelets, steel rings on his fingers, and of course, those douchey seashell necklaces. 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Billy enjoys a bottle of whiskey on the weekends, loves his dog a little too much, and could probably do with seeing a barber more than once every six months. But for all his tactlessness, he really does mean well. When he asks a question, he really does want to know the answer, and when loves, he loves pretty ferociously. His sense of humor, however crude, will never fail to bring a smile to people’s faces, and even if that doesn’t work, his laugh is deathly infectious. Billy is one of those guys you hate to love, and he knows it well. Even so, he can be unpredictable, adamant, and dislikes making commitments, especially those he is not sure he can keep. But whatever one might be led to believe, he’s an extremely passionate, and emotional person. When he truly takes interest in something (or someone), he puts all of himself into it, and momentarily forgets about everything else. This, however, means that he is very bad at relationships – really, really bad. He often comes as pushy and overly aggressive, in both his work and his life outside of it. One of Billy’s defining traits is his volatility, though he’s mellowed out a little with age. No longer does he get into barfights (well, less than he used to, anyway), but he still makes a point of saying what he thinks, and will rarely sugarcoat his words to win people over. He’s never uncomfortable; in fact, his boldness often verges on brash and crosses into downright crude, thanks to his lack of a filter. If he likes something, he'll let you know it, and if he doesn't, well, he's never been shy about voicing his opinion in that matter either. Try as he might, Billy’s never really had the best poker face in the world, and it tends to give him away, more often than not. If there’s one thing he can’t stand, it’s being talked down to. Of course, this isn’t to say he’s all bad, just that he’s hard to like. He does have a few soft spots here and there, even if they aren’t exactly the easiest things to find. Yet for all his flaws, he’s never met a boundary he wouldn’t cross, and he’ll go to the absolute ends of the Earth for you if he thinks you’re worth it. Billy is, by nature, extremely impulsive, both in the things he does and says. As far as he’s concerned, life’s too short to just sit around and let shit happen. He often states that no one should take life too seriously because in the end, everyone ends up in the same place - even if he doesn’t believe what he’s preaching. At the very core of his personality, Billy is kind of a bleeding heart, and often puts the needs of others above his own. Not many people know this, but Billy is deathly afraid of horses, courtesy of a rather unfortunate incident during his teenage years. Fortunately, horses aren’t something you see very often in the city. The next one’s a little less obvious, but he’s terrified of becoming his father, and what he’s going to do if everything with Abracadabra! ends up falling through. 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✓ French fries ✓ Dogs ✓ Coffee ✓ Warm weather ✗ Broccoli ✗ Horror movies ✗ Vodka ✗ Horses 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔ Born the oldest of three children in rural Kentucky, childhood wasn’t quite as picturesque for the young William Halford as most others’. His father, like everyone else in town, was a coal miner who spent more of his free time getting drunk at the local bar than taking care of his son. His mother, meanwhile, managed to juggle two different jobs at the same time. Suffice to say, Billy didn’t exactly grow up surrounded by sunshine and rainbows. But still, that was something he genuinely wanted - a loving, close-knit family, just like one of those obnoxiously American Norman Rockwell paintings he’d seen in the pages of his textbooks. His father’s idea of a bond with his son, however, was keeping the women he brought home a secret from his mother, while she thought quality time with Billy was handing him a list of chores to do as she spent her afternoons bussing tables at the local diner, and her nights at the gas station. It wasn’t long before his father took off up north with a rouged-up tart on his arm. For a few years, Billy, his siblings, and his mom got by. He had to grow up fast, of course, but he never blamed his mother, not even for a second. Carol Ann Halford was a real good parent, if you could look past the fact that she wasn’t much of a parent at all. She was still his mother, and she worked her ass off to keep a roof over their heads. Most days, Billy tried to convince himself that having no father was better than having a drunk, deadbeat loser as one. There were people all over the world who had a hell of a lot less, and Billy knew he had to count his blessings each night and say a quick prayer to whoever it was that listened, if anybody at all. That, of course, left Billy to take care of his siblings while she was away, and he was a good sport about it, too - never fussing, never complaining - at least up until high school, anyway. In school, he started to struggle, both academically and socially, though if he had to be honest, he saw that shit coming from a mile away. As his grades slipped, his frustration grew, and soon, he began to take his anger out on the people around him. There were too many things about him that could be picked on for his liking, and so he grew louder, more boisterous, and was forever throwing the first punch in a fight. You had to be living under a rock to not know his name, in fact, and Billy loved every second of it, no matter how many times he was sent to the principal’s office, knuckles bruised and bleeding. Everyone was divided when it came to Billy - you either loved or hated him, and oddly enough, he was okay with that. It put him on the map and gave him the attention he craved; the attention he lacked. Back home, his mother was none the wiser, too busy with trying to make ends meet to pay any heed. At age seventeen, Billy found himself with no real higher education prospects. He was uninvolved in extracurricular activities, uninterested in his studies, and shovelling horse poop at a neighbour’s farm for a few dollars a day. For all intents and purposes, it looked like he was heading down the same path everyone else in town did - that of a coal miner. It was a respectable living, sure, but did he really want to spend his entire life stuck in a dank cave somewhere, chipping away at rocks? But his siblings were getting old enough to take care of themselves, weren’t they? It wouldn’t hurt to take a week out of his life for a short holiday. And so, with what money they could scrape together, Billy and a few friends embarked on a trip NYC, as one last hurrah before they finally settled into a life of mundanity. Once they got there, however, things were a whole lot different from what they saw on TV. By the end of their second day there, Billy and his friends had gotten thrown out of more places than he could count for causing a ‘public disturbance’. Billy’s first brush with show business (if it can even be called that), came in the form of a bespectacled casting agent from a modelling agency. I know what you’re thinking, but however hard it might be to believe, he did use to be the hot, young thing once. Instead of returning home with his friends at the end of the week, he signed a contract with the modelling agency after an audition. For a while, that was what he did - editorials and runway modeling. It was easy enough to stand around and look pretty, but no one ever fell over themselves to book him for a show. Still, he earned enough to get by, and every month, he would send an envelope filled with some money back home. Of course, nothing lasts forever, and when his problem with authority started to catch up, job offers slowly dried up. Billy eventually turned to various odd jobs to keep himself afloat - moving furniture, mopping floors - he even worked as a morgue technician, at one point. In search of his next meal, he ended up auditioning for a bit part in an commercial. Not exactly the most exciting stuff, but it wasn’t hard to smile, look surprised, and act like the simple act pouring a drink was instead an insurmountable mountain, impossible to anyone but the most nimble of humans beings. The director was apparently sold by Billy’s ‘blandly handsome’ appearance, and called him in to do another commercial for some strange, mechanical mop. It’s around this time that Billy starts to lose it, his accent; the accent he hadn’t even realized he owned. It flavored his words with an odd, downward lilt that people noticed immediately, their attention shifting from what he’s saying to how he’s saying it. At first, they say it’s charming. That he is charming. That it’s a ‘quaint’ little accent, like they’re speaking to a child. After that, they say other things. Things in the ballpark of ‘uneducated’ and ‘uncultured’, without being so obvious. No one took him seriously. How can they, his housemate argued, when you sound like that? He started to bleed it out after that. Loud, rough words smoothing themselves out into something that’s a bit more monotone, a blend of North and South that made him sound like nothing at all. As soon as he started doing that, he managed to pull together a semi-stable career as a commercial actor. During one of the many dry periods in his life, Billy found himself sweeping floors at The Lawrence Theatre. That was also how he found out about Abracadabra!. Come to think of it, they were probably pretty desperate to fill their ranks, at that point. He still doesn’t know what possessed him to audition, but lo and behold - he actually got the gig through an impromptu, acoustic rendition of Knockin’ On Heaven’s Door played on a badly tuned guitar he found in the depths of the janitor’s closet. Truth be told, he didn’t even know that was a possibility. The schools he’d went had been ridiculously underfunded, and any art or theatre programs were but a far-off dream. Well, that was what he had to do now, anyway. And you know what they say - there’s no time like the present. 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔ ● Accents - Billy has a real knack for accents. Most acquaintances don’t even realise he’s from Kentucky until they hear how he sounds completely shitfaced. ● Singing - He’s actually pretty good at singing, just that he still has a bit of trouble with actually projecting his voice across the room. Billy doesn’t like to tell anyone, but he spent a good part of his childhood as a choirboy at his town’s congregation. Billy’s vocal color can be categorized somewhere between a dramatic and lyric baritone. ● Sturdy - Billy handles most of the heavy-lifting in Abracadabra!. It’s no sweat off his back, really, he’s been doing that kind of thing for a long time. And if he ever ends up getting into a fight, he’s happy to note that he still packs a mean right hook. ● Quick-witted - Billy is quick-witted, able to think incredibly fast on his feet. While his long-term planning isn’t quite up to par (read: terrible), he’s rather good at making split-second decisions that rescue him from sticky situations. 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ● Untrained - Billy’s never had any formal training in acting, and it shows. In fact, his approach to most things can be summed up with an age-old adage: “just wing it”. It’s been getting him by well enough, but how long that lasts is a question that’s yet to be answered. ● Tactless - Diplomacy is a huge problem for him, and he makes a terrible habit of saying the wrong thing at the wrong time. Try as he might, he’s never really had the best poker face in the world, and it tends to give him away more than not. ● Stubborn - Above all else, Billy values his pride. His facade of confidence is (mostly) unwavering, and he likes to think of himself the alpha dog in any social situation he’s in. Even in the most dire of situations, he rarely resorts to asking for help. 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Supporting Actor - Billy’s acting isn’t anything to write home about, but he can still follow stage directions and say his lines. Most of the time, what he ends up doing is more of a glorified bit part than anything, but his skill at accents comes in handy for that. Stagehand - When he’s not on stage himself, you can often find Billy running around backstage, moving props, setting up lights, and making sure no one gets killed and/or maimed by any falling scenery. 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖. ▔▔▔▔ ● Billy owns a 2 year-old rescue dog named Romeo. He's a mutt, mostly Rottweiler and American Bulldog, but he loves him all the same, because come on - look at that face. ● Benjamin Coffin III in Rent, or Adolfo Pirelli in Sweeney Todd.

Felicity a pris la canette, donnant à Gareth une excuuuuuuuuse expression. Il a disparu quand la fourchette est venue à elle. Elle l'a attrapé et lui a donné un sourire. "L'Adible vaut mieux que rien de ce que je suppose." Elle a utilisé le dos de sa fourche pour ouvrir la boîte et a ensuite pris une expression réfléchie comme Gareth lui a posé une question. "Un plan sur ce que tu veux faire?" Il a demandé autour d'une bouche pleine de nouilles. "Tu continues à parler de ce labo CDC, mais nous n'avons pas été aller nulle part. Pensez-vous que nous deux pourrions le faire par nos solitaires?" Elle a lâché. "Dans ce monde, je pense qu'avoir trop de gens autour pourrait être dangereux. Sans oublier qu'il est difficile de s'en occuper. C'est assez difficile de trouver assez de nourriture et d'eau pour nous deux." Elle a collé sa fourchette dans sa boîte et a pris une bouchée, sucant sur l'ustensile dans la pensée. Elle ne l'a pas enlevé quand elle a reparlé. "Où allons-nous trouver des gens de toute façon? Tout ce que quelqu'un veut, c'est se protéger. Emmener quelqu'un qu'ils n'ont jamais rencontré jusqu'à l'AC sur le coup des doigts n'est pas quelque chose que les gens font maintenant. »

Name: Felicity Nagle Gender: Female Age: Currently 22 Appearance: Felicity is a small girl with dark brown-black hair, tanned skin and brown eyes. She's skinny and fairly average. She keeps her wavy hair tied back in a ponytail most of the time and is often seen completely covered (even if it's really hot) Personality: Much like her half-zombie counterpart, Murphy, Felicity has a pretty poor attitude (particularly towards the whole zompocalypse thing), though, she's a bit more reserved about it. She can be friendly and is serious on her mission to beat Murphy to California. She views it as more of a competition - perhaps more than she ought to. She's fairly fearless and will often rush into things. Weapon of choice: Felicity carries a small handgun that she had picked up from one of the dead guards in the juvenile detention center, but it only holds one bullet - a bullet that's been in the gun since the apocalypse came to her little corner of the world. Otherwise, she uses a staff she made from a tree branch. Bio: Felicity grew up in a small, Northern Michigan town. Daughter to Frank and Ahawi Nagle, sister to Nelson. The family was poor and Frank spent most of his time at work. Ahawi was a stay at home mother who clearly did not enjoy her life. Felicity was arrested and charged for attempted murder when she held a knife to her mother's throat. She claims that Ahawi was beating Nelson and Felicity had done the deed out of protection for her infant brother. Nelson was put into foster care and Felicity was put into a juvenile detention center. When the zompocalypse came about, she was literally among the last to know. When everything went to shit, she was taken into the lab and injected with the vaccine in an attempt to recreate the Murphy (as it had become somewhat common knowledge that he had survived being bitten). Much like him, the lab was overrun and she was cornered and bitten..... and lived without turning. (I might change this later. I'm not sure I really like it, but, for now, it's a good base.)

Il n'y a rien qui puisse être utilisé pour réparer un camion, Gareth a appelé. "Depuis combien de temps êtes-vous seul?" Si ce type avait été seul pendant un moment, il a présenté quelques options. Numéro un, il pourrait être intelligent et survivant. Utile sur une chieuse de chauve-souris entreprise folle comme celle qu'ils contemplaient. Ce serait aussi bien d'avoir quelqu'un d'autre qui pourrait prendre le relais de la conduite, ou de regarder la nuit quand ils avaient besoin de dormir. Numéro deux, c'est un enfoiré meurtrier qui les tuerait dans leur sommeil comme il aiderait à protéger Felicity. Est-ce qu'il pourrait la vendre à la première personne qu'ils ont traversée pour qu'il puisse en tirer profit? Il se pencha plus loin, se retournant pour se faire la tête par la fenêtre et regarder vers le bas l'homme, juste un étage sous leur fenêtre.

Name: Lawrence Macintosh Gender: Male Age: 27 Personality: Lawrence is a rather subdued individual who is known for his gentle spirit and disability to say "no" to others. While that is what is seen on the outside, something very different is on the inside. From years of verbal and physical abuse from his mother as well as being taken advantage of by others, Lawrence has dark and sometimes murderous thoughts although he never acts on them. Anger is an emotion he rarely ever shows to others, although, when he does it is very violent. Otherwise, 90% of the time, Lawrence is an innocent teddy bear. If he ever does something violent, he is immediately regretful afterword and is ashamed. He has almost no back bone so saying no to someone or standing up to them is something he rarely does. Weapon of choice: Axe Bio: Lawrence was born to Frank and Winona Macintosh on a ranch in Northern America. He had two other siblings, all of which died before the age of 20. His younger brother died at the age of 8 from a cattle stampede and his sister died at the age of 18 during a complicated child birth. Eventually, Lawrence's father died as well from a heart attack, leaving Lawrence and his mother alone to tend to the ranch. Having two of his siblings and his father die in the span of a few years, Lawrence decided to leave home at the age of 17, right after graduating high school, to work in Northern Canada at a lumber camp. He needed to get away from his mother and from the house that only reminded him of his dead family. He worked and stayed at the lumber camp for 9 years. For the last two, he received repetitive letters from his mother saying that she was getting ill and that they were in danger of losing the ranch. Finally, after two years of receiving these letters begging him to come back home, Lawrence decided that he would. Seeing as there was word of a highly contagious virus going around, Lawrence chose to drive back to his hometown instead of taking a plane. Along the way, he saw many strange things. But when he tried to cross the border into America, it was very tricky and a series of unfortunate events left him stranded in Michigan.

Où allons-nous trouver des gens de toute façon? Tout ce que quelqu'un veut, c'est se protéger. Emmener quelqu'un qu'ils n'ont jamais rencontré jusqu'à l'AC sur le coup des doigts n'est pas quelque chose que les gens font maintenant. Gareth a lâché. "Comme aider des étrangers était haut sur beaucoup de listes de gens avant que la merde frappe le ventilateur," il a grondé. "Nous trouvons quelqu'un prêt à aider et ils peuvent tirer leur propre poids? Je dis que ça vaut la peine de leur parler au moins. Pas un grand groupe, mais un couple de mains et d'yeux supplémentaires ne pourraient pas faire de mal, vous savez?" Gareth a filé, soudainement, ravioli peut tomber à la table quand il est revenu et a tiré l'un des deux kuhkri qu'il a porté des gaines cousues dans la doublure de son gilet. Les poignées collées de sous les vêtements ourlet à sa taille, les mettant à portée de main. L'autre main, il tendit vers la félicité, signalant le silence. Un moment plus tard, il l'entendit à nouveau, faisant écho à l'échappement du feu. Le clan du métal qui frappe le métal. Il a couru à travers l'appartement et a mis son dos au mur, fenêtre sur sa droite et s'est penché juste assez pour regarder par la fenêtre. Il ne voyait rien, mais à en juger par le bruit, quelqu'un grimpait les marches en métal. Les morts ne grimpent pas. "Que voulez-vous?" Il a appelé. "Nous ne voulons pas d'ennuis mais nous nous défendrons si vous cherchez à en causer!"

Name: Lawrence Macintosh Gender: Male Age: 27 Personality: Lawrence is a rather subdued individual who is known for his gentle spirit and disability to say "no" to others. While that is what is seen on the outside, something very different is on the inside. From years of verbal and physical abuse from his mother as well as being taken advantage of by others, Lawrence has dark and sometimes murderous thoughts although he never acts on them. Anger is an emotion he rarely ever shows to others, although, when he does it is very violent. Otherwise, 90% of the time, Lawrence is an innocent teddy bear. If he ever does something violent, he is immediately regretful afterword and is ashamed. He has almost no back bone so saying no to someone or standing up to them is something he rarely does. Weapon of choice: Axe Bio: Lawrence was born to Frank and Winona Macintosh on a ranch in Northern America. He had two other siblings, all of which died before the age of 20. His younger brother died at the age of 8 from a cattle stampede and his sister died at the age of 18 during a complicated child birth. Eventually, Lawrence's father died as well from a heart attack, leaving Lawrence and his mother alone to tend to the ranch. Having two of his siblings and his father die in the span of a few years, Lawrence decided to leave home at the age of 17, right after graduating high school, to work in Northern Canada at a lumber camp. He needed to get away from his mother and from the house that only reminded him of his dead family. He worked and stayed at the lumber camp for 9 years. For the last two, he received repetitive letters from his mother saying that she was getting ill and that they were in danger of losing the ranch. Finally, after two years of receiving these letters begging him to come back home, Lawrence decided that he would. Seeing as there was word of a highly contagious virus going around, Lawrence chose to drive back to his hometown instead of taking a plane. Along the way, he saw many strange things. But when he tried to cross the border into America, it was very tricky and a series of unfortunate events left him stranded in Michigan.

Felicity écoutait le mieux qu'elle pouvait, même si elle trouvait assez difficile d'entendre l'homme étrange. Elle s'est penchée la tête contre le mur et a fermé les yeux, son esprit revenant à son but original - la pensée. Serait-il vraiment sage d'amener un autre membre du parti? Gareth avait eu un point qu'il pourrait être utile d'avoir un jeu de mains supplémentaire dans le cas de quelque chose comme un Zunami, bien qu'elle pensait, à ce moment-là, que cela n'aurait pas d'importance. Ils seraient bien baisés même s'il y avait une centaine de personnes avec eux. Quoi qu'il en soit, la chasse aux approvisionnements nécessaires pour s'occuper de plus de deux personnes serait plus facile s'il y avait plus de deux personnes. C'était presque un rapport parfait, le seul facteur limitatif étant que c'était la putain de fin du monde et Hostess juste en haut et arrêter de les faire Twinkies cette fois-ci. Tu sais, entre autres choses.

Name: Felicity Nagle Gender: Female Age: Currently 22 Appearance: Felicity is a small girl with dark brown-black hair, tanned skin and brown eyes. She's skinny and fairly average. She keeps her wavy hair tied back in a ponytail most of the time and is often seen completely covered (even if it's really hot) Personality: Much like her half-zombie counterpart, Murphy, Felicity has a pretty poor attitude (particularly towards the whole zompocalypse thing), though, she's a bit more reserved about it. She can be friendly and is serious on her mission to beat Murphy to California. She views it as more of a competition - perhaps more than she ought to. She's fairly fearless and will often rush into things. Weapon of choice: Felicity carries a small handgun that she had picked up from one of the dead guards in the juvenile detention center, but it only holds one bullet - a bullet that's been in the gun since the apocalypse came to her little corner of the world. Otherwise, she uses a staff she made from a tree branch. Bio: Felicity grew up in a small, Northern Michigan town. Daughter to Frank and Ahawi Nagle, sister to Nelson. The family was poor and Frank spent most of his time at work. Ahawi was a stay at home mother who clearly did not enjoy her life. Felicity was arrested and charged for attempted murder when she held a knife to her mother's throat. She claims that Ahawi was beating Nelson and Felicity had done the deed out of protection for her infant brother. Nelson was put into foster care and Felicity was put into a juvenile detention center. When the zompocalypse came about, she was literally among the last to know. When everything went to shit, she was taken into the lab and injected with the vaccine in an attempt to recreate the Murphy (as it had become somewhat common knowledge that he had survived being bitten). Much like him, the lab was overrun and she was cornered and bitten..... and lived without turning. (I might change this later. I'm not sure I really like it, but, for now, it's a good base.)

Oui, un appel d'inspecteur pourrait marcher. Attendre que Godot n'est pas une mauvaise idée non plus, mais Un inspecteur Calls est très bon, jetant la sagesse, Art dit de façon contemplative – et Charlene lui a envoyé un sale regard pour cela. Ce n'était pas la pièce elle-même qui l'ennuyait, parce qu'elle le savait à peine elle-même, mais le fait que le directeur les avait résignés à un mois de travail quasi impossible. Puis encore une fois, c'était essayer cela et être payé, ou ne pas, et laisser Abracadabra! tomber, et ne pas être payé. L'argent n'était pas important, mais elle venait trop loin pour se retirer de l'aide de la compagnie de théâtre maintenant. C'était plus qu'un billet de repas. "L'école nous a laissé certains de leurs anciens textes quand ils sont tombés du programme, et je pense que c'était l'un d'entre eux. Ils sont à l'arrière." "Je vais les traquer. Je pense que je sais où ils sont aussi, » a proposé Charlene, débordant déjà sur la scène et marchant à travers elle dans le dos. "Nous n'en aurons peut-être pas assez." Avant de se joindre à l'entreprise, avant d'avoir eu une ouverture, elle a passé beaucoup de week-end à aider en tant que bénévole-slash-interne. L'espace de rangement à l'arrière avait été l'un de ses hantements préférés. De longues journées d'été ont été rendues supportables à l'ombre, entourées de poussière et de grime, catalogage des scripts et polissage des antiquités. Avec la disparition de CJ, Art a continué sur la question la plus pressante. Il a fait un compte-rendu rapide, illustrant sa mémoire encyclopédique "scary" lorsqu'il s'agissait des arts de la scène. "Sheila, Edna, Mme Birling... Gerald, Eric, M. Birling et l'inspecteur. Nous avons les nombres parfaits pour effectuer cette pièce – et je n'ai peut-être même pas besoin de mettre une robe. Nous pouvons faire en sorte que cela fonctionne." Il a continué en s'adressant à tout le groupe: "Je ne sais pas combien d'entre vous l'ont lu, ou l'ont vu exécuté, ou l'ont appris par osmose pendant l'école comme Billy. Fondamentalement, ce mystérieux inspecteur, l'inspecteur Goole, interroge une famille riche sur leur implication dans la mort d'une ouvrière. C'est en Angleterre, en 1912, mais tout se passe dans une seule pièce ––Ziggy, Lucas Je suis sûr que vous serez tous les deux soulagés d'entendre ça. Dominic, vous avez le règne libre sur la musique. Désolé, ce n'est pas une comédie musicale, mais je ne pense pas que nous ayons les poumons pour le moment, et je suis aussi dans cette option en ce moment. Je n'y ai même pas pensé." Charlene revint deux minutes plus tard à la fin de sa brève conférence, portant une pile de livres étonnamment minces, tous en couverture dure. « Frappez-les, chef-homme, » dit-elle une fois qu'il s'est arrêté – même s'il était clair qu'il allait jusqu'à une autre exposition sur Priestley et la pièce elle-même. "Il y a huit copies, donc pas besoin de partager. On pourrait même en avoir un pour votre chien." Le dernier morceau a été dirigé sur Billy par-dessus son épaule alors qu'elle a déposé sa découverte sur la scène. Elle a piqué la copie en haut, celle avec les plus petits bords raggés et taches douteuses. Le Directeur a poursuivi ses travaux. "Noah, tu serais un Eric parfait; nous avons besoin de quelqu'un qui boome pour M. Birling... Et quelqu'un intimidant, mais calme pour l'inspecteur éponyme –" il a pris un moment pour jeter un coup d'œil d'évaluation sur Billy, "– et pour les filles, eh bien, vous pouvez vous battre pour les rôles de Sheila et Mme Birling, et Edna a à peine n'importe quelle ligne..." Charlene n'écoutait pas. Elle avait déjà retourné son texte à la liste des personnages et leurs brèves descriptions sur la quatrième page. À côté de chacun des noms imprimés, un autre nom a été brouillé à l'encre bleue effacée. Les noms des personnes qui l'avaient fait pour la dernière fois à l'aide de ces textes, a-t-elle estimé. « C'est le moment de mettre votre réclamation en jeu! Prenez un texto, passez le dialogue, et faites-moi savoir ce que vous voulez. Si deux personnes sont attaché au même personnage, eh bien, nous allons organiser un combat de poing ou quelque chose à l'extérieur." "Je prendrai n'importe quoi, Art. Tu me connais," a dit Charlene.

Full NameGender | Age (14+) | Sexuality 𝗔𝗣𝗣𝗘𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗖𝗘 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Your text here. At least one paragraph of description to go alongside the real-life faceclaim your character. Detail the basics (hair colour, build, etc.) but also their demeanor, posture, voice quality, and other key characteristics. 𝗣𝗘𝗥𝗦𝗢𝗡𝗔𝗟𝗜𝗧𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Your text here. At least two or three substantial paragraphs of your character's... well, character. You may find it useful to bold key-words. Include their outward attitudes towards others, perhaps mention how well they work in a team, and be sure to make note of their most crippling fear. 𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 & 𝗗𝗜𝗦𝗟𝗜𝗞𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ✓ ✓ ✓ ✓ ✗ ✗ ✗ ✗ 𝗛𝗜𝗦𝗧𝗢𝗥𝗬 ▔▔▔▔▔ Your text here. At least three or four paragraphs on your character's life thus far. Definitely include how many years of experience they have in theatre and justify their existing skills, but remember that Abracadabra! has only been in existence for 10 years, and your characters are unlikely to have joined before Y2K. It is also 2008. 𝗧𝗔𝗟𝗘𝗡𝗧𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔ ● What is your character good at - generally to do with theatre, but can expand to other skills. ● Roles, parts and responsibilities are likely to come down to how good your characters are at certain things. ● Social aptitudes should also go here. Is your character good at lying? There's a talent right there. ● Maximum of four. Must be justified by history. 𝗪𝗘𝗔𝗞𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ ● What is your character not good at? ● If something goes wrong for your character (via GM roll) it might have something to do with one of these... ● Minimum of three. Must be substantial and not cop-outs. 𝗥𝗢𝗟𝗘𝗦 ▔▔▔▔▔▔▔▔ Role – Explanation. What is your character's main function in the theatre group, or rather, what are they most qualified to do. Is your character good at being comic relief? Is your character a lead actor? A supporting actor? Singer? Are they a snazzy dancer? Max of 2. 𝗠𝗜𝗦𝗖. ▔▔▔▔ Anything else.

Feuille de suie Sootleaf lui ouvrit les yeux, la lumière coulant dans sa tanière. Elle lâcha un soupir fatigué et étendit à contrecœur ses pattes avant, griffant sur la terre. Le vieux chat s'est levé, étirant ses jambes sur le dos individuellement. Son ventre grondait de vite et elle était prête à le briser. Sootleaf a décidé qu'elle ferait l'inventaire de ses herbes après. Elle a déplacé ses os fatigués hors de sa tanière et est entrée dans le centre du camp. Ne voyant personne d'autre que Icefire, elle s'est demandée à son jeune chat. "Bonjour, Icefire. Je vois que quelqu'un se lève tôt aujourd'hui..." Moonkit Moonkit a été réveillé par le mewing de Sunkit. Elle leva la tête de sa forme enroulée et laissa perdre un petit bâilleur. Elle a reniflé, notant que tout le monde était encore dans le nid, donc elle savait qu'elle n'était pas la dernière. Le kit a regardé Spottedblossom. "Est-ce le matin?" Elle a demandé, elle a commencé à se lever. Moonkit a essayé de se réveiller, mais a fini par tomber.

Name Spottedblossom Gender She-cat Rank Queen Clan Cliffclan Personality Spottedblossom is soft-spoken and quiet, often hesitant to speak her mind around strangers. She isn't shy exactly, just careful and polite, respectful of others opinions. In truth, she's a little bit of a push over and doesn't like to burden others even though she isn't capable of defending herself and her kits right now. Relationships Kits (four) | History Spottedblossom used to be a stray cat in a small town not far from the valley, living peacefully with most of the cats there since they all looked out for each other. That was up until another, larger and meaner cat started collecting the scummiest of the cats he could and driving out - or killing - the calm cats of town. They took the hunting places familiar to them, killed anyone who got in there way and went as far as killing and eating a pair of twolegs who had come to Spottedblossom's rescue. The she-cat managed to get away, at the risk of her mate's life, and found the valley with a friend who had avoided clan territory to find a place to stay. Spottedblossom, who was heavily pregnant at the time, needed to find a place safe for her to kit, but there was nowhere outside of clan territory. She took the risk and is glad to this day she did. She found an old rabbit hole, long abandoned and kitted there, alone until another cat came to her. The she-cat ended up breaking his hip kitting in such dangerous conditions, but managed to survive with all of her kits healthy and safe. She woke up with two cats pressed to her sides, keeping herself and the kits warm, and a rabbit ready for her to eat. When she was safe to travel she was welcomed into the clan, and wants to do her part to provide. Other Cannot fight properly because of the old injury | Intends to either stay a Queen, or help the Medicine Cat when she doesn't have kits Duskkit, Sunkit, Dapplekit, Palekit COLOR CODE Name Frostwhisker Gender She-cat Rank Medicine Cat Clan Oakclan Personality Frostwhisker is a friendly and motherly cat, caring and without boundaries when it comes to cats in need. She dislikes suffering and will willingly step into the middle of a fight if she must to make it stop. Overprotective and quite outspoken when she's truly passionate about something, she is also a motivated leader. Relationships Oakstar - mates | Kits - Featherwhisker; Lillystep; Firelight; | Littermates - has two, make one if you want | History Frostwhisker was born to a healthy housecat who had recently run aware from her Two-legs to live in the wild with her mate. Her and her two littermates grew up learning how to hunt and fight for themselves not far from the valley that now houses the two clans. She was always close to her littermates, and the three of them eventually wandered off on their own, though they came back to where they knew their parents would be when she was going to kit for the first time. She began having her dreams in the hard winter when her family group was having a hard time surviving. That was when she knew she needed to gather more cats together. Other Is deaf on the left side | Currently pregnant with her second litter | Plans to cultivate herbs that grow near camp COLOR CODE Name Brimpelt Gender Tom Rank Veteran Warrior Clan Boulderclan Personality Tough and stubborn, Brimpelt has high expectations of his warriors and apprentices. As a hard headed, and bristle pelted individual he's not the type to trust others with much more than meaningless tasks unless they've proven themselves. He dislikes weakness in all it's forms - including kittypet roots. It takes a long time for him to warm up to anybody and often refuses to admit it, but he does act slightly different when he's with those he's comfortable with. Relationships - best friend and closest confident | Flower - mate (formerly; now deceased) History Brimpelt - formerly known as Brimm - was once the leader of a small band of rogues. These rogues were never fond of weakness, including kittypets and Two-legs, and never accepted handouts. The group had once been known as the most notorious in the valley and none of them shied away from spilling weakling blood. This band of rogues is what became much of Boulderclans main fighting force after the formation of, though some moved off to better hunting grounds over the mountains. Brim himself had grown alone in the mountains, becoming a cruel and ruthless leader. Some say that love changes you, and when the tom met Flower he did change, but he did not become the kind cat others would hope for. He was more tolerant, but a charismatic leader. Flower died fighting against the formation of the clans, convinced they should be able to make their own if they must, but her death brought him to his knees long enough to begin his plot. Complete take over and elimination of Boulderclan before he and his followers would move on. Other COLOR CODE Name Jaggedstar Gender Tom Rank Leader Clan Lightclan Personality This leader is cunning and ruthless, powerful and intimidating. He embodies what it is that Lightclan stands for; strength and order. Those who follow his orders are rewarded, not just with first rights to food, but status and patrols of their own. He is, of course, careful to maintain his own power over them. Much of his own clan either fears him, or idolizes him. He is a leader, but not a kind one. The weak he will root out and cast away in shame, not giving them the glory of a death by combat. Relationships (insert name) - mate and confident | Raggedpelt - litter mate History As a kit, Jaggedstar had been named Blackkit by his mother, and his brother Skykit, had been the only two of their litter to survive being birthed. Their mother had died when they were apprentices, in a nasty fight with a dog, in which she was protecting the two of them. Their leader called it a humiliation to them, but Skykit knew it was a kindness. Blackkit on the other hand felt nothing about his mothers sacrifice. This, you could say, was the defining moment for the two apprentices. They learned, trained every day. They fought off a dog together, patrolled together. But Blackpaw never felt bad for killing a weaker cat. He didn't think twice about letting the losing warrior bleed out alone for some other cat to find. This brutality wasn't actively seen by his clan, but by the time him and his brother had come close to becoming warriors, Skypaw confronted him on it. Of all cats, his brother had to understand what Lightclan was doing was wrong, right? Wrong. The night that Skypaw went out to hunt with Blackpaw was the night that the two fought, one trying desperately to save his own life while the other tore him apart. They were equally matched. Both found themselves in the Medicine Cat Den two days later, having slept or didn't remember the entire time. The two were cheered for their feriosity, their determination and neither said a thing about what really happened out there. Jaggedscar and Raggedpelt, scarred only by one another. Quickly they rose in the ranks, one naturally while the other wanted to reform the clan by becoming leader. Jaggedstar won in the end, keeping his brother as one of his most trusted warriors; until his betrayal. Raggedpelt spoke out against him, turned several cats against the clans values and that was the one thing that Jaggedstar could not stand. He, personally, fought several of the warriors defending Raggedpelt, and won, just to get to his brother. His claws pricked his brothers throat, the brown tom looking up at him with sky blue eyes. "Get out. Show your face on clan territory again and I'll kill you myself." Other Has a twisted scar running down his left side | | Name Featherwhisker Gender She-cat Rank Warrior Clan Oakclan Personality Like her mother, Featherwhisker is willing to protect anyone who needs it though she is not as gentle and caring as the medicine cat. She is rebellious in nature, though through nurture she has developed a deep respect for those who have proven themselves to her. She is passionate and speaks out when she feels something needs to be said - even against orders of silence. She does not care for the public opinion if it isn't right and unafraid to be who she is around other cats. Rarely will she instigate a fight, but she is not afraid to finish it if she must. Relationships Frostwhisker & Oakstar - parents | Lillypelt & Firelight - littermates | History Featherwhisker and her littermates were born before the winter that drove them to near starvation, long enough for her to have learned how to hunt and fight but she knew she wouldn't live long in that winter. She was granted her warrior name by her mother not long after the clans had formed, taking it with pride as she found a new purpose to her life. Other COLOR CODE Name Foxtrot Gender Tom Rank Warrior Clan Oakclan Personality Foxtrot is a joking individual who enjoys having fun and is always the first to attempt to lighten a rather serious atmosphere with a really bad joke. Pranks were never his specialty, but humor was always right up his alley. It isn't certain whether or not the tom is capable of any real seriousness with his fun-loving and carefree nature. He's also rather oblivious to affection, and others feelings towards his joking manor - that or he doesn't care enough to care. Who knows? Relationships N/A as of yet History Before becoming part of Oakclan, Foxtrot was the outside cat of a twoleg home down the thunderpath. He was a stray before that, and rarely slept inside of the house, so the couple had never gone looking for him as far as he could tell. One day he walked too far and ended up getting hit by a small monster. Luck for him, Frostwhisker and Featherwhisker had been nearby and heard him calling for help. He was taken into the clan and pledged to repay the two she-cats for what they did for him that day. Other Has a long scar down right rear leg | Back legs get stiff on damp days COLOUR CODE Name Riversong Gender She-cat Rank Warrior - Queen Clan Boulderclan Personality Riversong is far from the gentle and caring mother that most would expect from a pregnant queen. Instead she is assertive and scolding, protective and perfectly willing to jump into a fight if she need be. She despises idiocy and encourages bravery - even though the traits may well be one in the same. Relationships - mate | History Before the arrival of the clans, Riversong had been part of a group of loners who frequented the mountains. She was unaware of the formation of the clans until they came to recruit or disband the group of loners, seeing as she was already pregnant at the time, her mate and her joined the clan. Other COLOR CODE Name Icefire Gender She-cat Clan Ashclan Rank Warrior Personality Icefire is much like her name hints, she is an ever changing constant. She's not moody, though she isn't stable in emotional endevours. At times she is plagued by self doubt, often causing her to stop eating, and on other days she's as bright as newleaf sunshine. Her mood changed at the turn of a rabbits foot, constant in few things. The she-cat is loyal to her clan, though not to the cats within it. She's not one to keep secrets from the deputy and leader if there is a chance it could endanger the rest of the clan. She'll allow those capable to protect themselves without worry, and never frets about something she shouldn't. Relationships History This she-cat was born outside of Ashclan, hailing from the hills not far from Cliffclan territory. It was a small place, a good clan not far from the other clans that they lived. It was long after she'd become a warrior that the end came to them and she was seperated from the other survivors. She found her way to Ashclan. Name Nightkit Gender Tom Rank Kit Clan Lightclan Personality Nightkit is a quiet and cunning tom, the opposite of his sisters. Calm, cold and closed to the people around him. He's a very effective spy, and a very observative individual. He didn't bond well with his sisters as much as he did with others in the clan. Relationships Littermates - Starkit, Yarrowkit & Harekit | Parents - Willowfang & Oliveclaw | History Other Name Raggedpelt Gender Tom Rank Deputy - Former Clan Lightclan - Former Personality Raggedpelt, once a loyal and determined warrior, friendly and well worded and placed among friends, now knows the pain of loneliness. Solitude has turned this tom into an untrusting and morbid animal. He refuses to follow a strangers word, and longs again for the company of a clan. He is a devoted cat, and cares more for the safety of others then his own life. Now, when seen by strangers he is not friendly in first interaction, instead unsure and hostile. He does not expect the best of cats anymore, only the worst, in his daily battles for survival. Relationships Jaggedstar - litermate History Raggedpelt, formerly Skykit and Skypaw, the littermate of Lightclan's current leader Jaggedstar, was born destined for greatness. He felt the hurt of his mothers death, longed for his brothers company and wondered why the clan itself was so brutally cruel to those who deemed them weak. He worried over it, often thinking keeping him up at night though he was never far from his brothers side. The two were insperable, even the day that Skypaw first spoke to Blackpaw about the clans morals. The fight nearly cost him his life, and his sanity, and the two never spoke of it again as they rose the ranks in the clan. Blackpaw became Jaggedstar, Skypaw to Raggedpelt - declared Deputy by his own brother against the odds. His betrayal and exile was the beginning of his hardships. He left then and there, nothing from the Medicine Cat and leaving his apprentice behind, the cat being passed on to the next warrior. There was nothing he could do much leave clan territory or risk getting even more cats killed. Briartorn had managed not to be caught by Jaggedstar, only to survive in a place where cats should not suffer. Ragedpelt left, finding the abandoned camp of the clan they're former leader had destroyed. That was where he became his exile, sleeping alone in an empty camp. Time began to change him, turn him into something closer to his brother than himself. It was not something he loved. It is not something he enjoys. But at this point in time he needs to think of his own survival. Other Name Sundapple Gender Tom Rank Medicine Cat Clan Cliffclan Personality Relationships History Other

Oakclan - Vinéshine Boulderclan - Aspenclaw Aspenclaw le guerrier aîné était dans la nouvelle pile de kile, quand le leader a appelé au sujet d'un nouveau député. Ses oreilles se sont tordues en curieux et embarrassées au sujet du mouvement soudain de l'Amberstar. Jusqu'à présent, le Boulderclan est très bien vécu sans député et il lui semblait qu'elle n'avait même pas l'intention de le choisir... alors pourquoi maintenant? C'est ce qu'il pensait. Il a pris une dernière bouchée de son repas et s'est tourné vers son chef et a attendu pour voir ce qui va se passer maintenant. Ashclan - Cloverlight - Cherrykit - Pigeonkit - Hollowkit - Snowkit Cloverlight se réveilla lorsqu'un rayon de soleil lumineux brillait directement sur son nid, bâillant le chat blanc et gris. Elle s'est levée jusqu'à ses pieds et s'est étirée, de sorte que ses quatre petites boulettes ne se réveillent pas. Un peu mouillante, elle regarda ses kits avant de partir à la crèche, pas trop loin, mais assez pour prendre un peu d'air frais. Cliffclan - Reedheart/star - Tundraclaw - Givre glacé Réveiller Reedheart est allé à la tanière du chef, elle dormait là même pensait qu'elle n'était pas encore un chef. Les anciens dirigeants de Cliffclan qui sont décédés n'étaient qu'un jour et elle a dû se rendre aujourd'hui au pool de lune pour obtenir ses neuf vies. J'ai pensé qu'il restait encore du temps à manger et à prendre des herbes pour le journal à venir. Pour l'instant, elle s'est assise et a regardé son camp en silence. Tundraclaw était déjà debout et travaillait, le tom blanc avait déjà chassé et portait une bouche pleine de proies capturées. Il a léché les lèvres, avant de les déposer dans la nouvelle pile, avant d'aller à la crèche. Pendant un moment, il a regardé le spottedblossom et ses quatre kits "Bonjour, avez-vous besoin de quelque chose? J'ai de la nourriture fraîche, je peux t'en trouver si tu es si découragé qu'il s'est assoupi doucement, ne brouillant pas son regard vers la reine colorée. Lightclan - Cedarsky(MC) - Rainfang

Name - Reedheart (Reedstar) I'm little unsure could I make her a leader or not :/ Gender - She-cat Rank - Deputy Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - Reedheart is gentle cat, not one to raise her voice unless its needed, and will listen to a kit as easely as a warrior. She takes her job very seriously,meaning she want let others down if she can help it. She also smart,brave and sweet toward others. Reedheart loves kittens very much and would do anything for them. As a leader she will probably be a little soft to be leading a clan, but she tries to do her best. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Sister: Icefrost, Brother: Tundraclaw (Will make them later) History - (Optional) Other - Name - Icefrost Gender - She-cat Rank - Warrior Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - She is little lazy, stubborn, harsh, cold-hearted and is unforgiving, but she have her kind, sweet side too. Unlike her siblings she is not that loyal and can break rules, but only if her clanmates don't suffer from it. She is nice toward the cats she likes, but she is little naive and can be easely fooled. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Sister: Reedheart/star, Brother: Tundraclaw, Mate (former): Rainfang (currently a warrior of Lightclan) History - (Optional) Other - Name - Tundraclaw Gender - Tom Rank - Warrior Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - He is very hard-working, loyal to his clan, kind and lovely to the ones he likes/ trust, he is very protestive. He can be very mean sometimes excpecially cats he don't like, he don't hate anyone, but if he can't accept you will know it. He is little flirty toward she-cats and is seriously looking for a mate. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Sisters: Reedheart/star, Icefrost, Crush: Spottedblossom History - (Optional) Other - Name - Rainfang Gender - Tom Rank - Warrior Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Parents: for Cliffclan, siblings: open, mate(Former): Icefrost/ open, Crush: Looking.... History - He is born and raised for Cliffclan, with his siblings. He fall for his clanmate Icepaw/frost and when warrior they become a mates, even thought he didn't get along with her siblings Reedheart or Tundraclaw. For a time he was a loyal to his clan, never ever thinked to leave, but it chanced when he meets a lightclan cats and eventual get friends with them. He enjoyed more and more with them, listening the live for Lightclan his faith for Cliffclan chanced, unlike lightclan, Cliffclan was weak and he wanted more. He leaved the Cliffclan when get a big argument with his mate Icefrost and he didn't agree that Reedheart was choised to be deputy. Other - Name - Cloverlight Gender - She-cat Rank - Queen Clan - Ashclan Appearance - Personality - She is brave, a little too brave at times, ferociously loyal, and full of curiosity. She is slightly short-tempered, and can spit out words that she regrets later. Her heart was always in the right place. Her bravery can sometimes get her into huge trouble, and one time almost killed. Cloverlight is still overly brave, courageous, curious, feisty, and spunky. However, she is now trying to focus on her litters and be a mother Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Mate: open / Kits: Cherrykit, Pigeonkit, Snowkit, Hollowkit Kits appearance: He is born as a sterile and will never have kits He will lost his sight, little By little She will become a rule/code breaker, probably History - (Optional) Other - She would want a mate and a father for her kits Name - Cedarsky Gender - Tom Rank - Medician cat Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Stubborn and hard-headed, He is not a cat who can be told what to do by just anymore; he has to respect you. And that respect must be earned, just because someone has a title does not mean they are worthy of his loyalty. She's fairly quick to snark and make quick judgment on others and their decisions, but at the end of the day Cedarsky's smart enough to stop and reprimand himself for his quick temper and will often either apologize or take back of words when he's fully thought them out. He does not mean to be a cranky pain-in-the-rump, and he does know his temper. He is loyal to his leader and clan, but really don't like Briarthorn. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Parents: Unknown History - He is not clan born, his mother was a loner, young she cat which died when giving birth her first litter. He did have a four siblings but when Lightclan patrol found them he was the only one who was still alive. Other - He is 60 moons old, and one of the oldest cats. Name - Vineshine Gender - She-cat Rank - Warrior Clan - Oakclan Appearance - Personality - Kind, protestive, caring, very loving and gentle talking she-cat, thought she is little shy and don't easely start anything. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Brother: Tigersky, crush/ mate: Foxtrot/ Wants History - She and Tigersky are born as a rogue, they're never knowed about their father. Other - Name - Aspenclaw Gender - Tom Rank - Senior warrior Clan - Warrior Appearance - Personality - Grumpy, small talking, lonely, little sarcastic and cold, but he do love kits. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Death, crush/ mate: No/ he did have Marble named she-cat, but she is long dead. History - He is lived as a loner almost all his live, but when meeting Marble his lonely life chanced. Other -

Magmastar d'Ashclan De l'intérieur de la caverne centrale à l'intérieur du vulcano endormi, le chef du clan des Ash émergea. Les yeux brillent dans l'obscurité alors qu'il entre dans la lumière, la poussière s'échappant autour de ses pattes tandis qu'il fait ses pas sur le sol vulcanique. Par le centre, il progressait comme il allait vers l'entrée de leur clan sans même regarder vers les côtés. Il tenait la tête haute et progressait avec fierté. C'était presque comme s'il pouvait entendre leurs applaudissements comme ils l'ont salué, mais de telles louanges sont probablement tombées silencieuses à cause du clan occupé. Pourtant, par l'entrée, il s'est levé sur le sommet le plus haut pour voir au-dessus de leur terre. Une fois là-bas, il s'assit et soupira. Son regard se tourna vers Icefire "Vous... Oui, venez ici. Il est temps de l'interroger" a-t-il dit en la regardant fermement. Pourtant, interroger les membres de son clan était quelque chose que Magmastar aimait, juste parce qu'il voulait les voir paraître nerveux et se demander de quoi il s'agissait. Berrydream d'OakClan Se baladant autour du camp Berrydream regarda le tas de morts qu'elle avait aidé à contribuer aussi. Cependant un autre chat était sur le chemin aussi, et par le regard de lui, il semblait prendre toute l'énergie des femmes enceintes pour l'atteindre. Berrydream était sur le point de l'aider car personne d'autre n'était là, mais a remarqué que la femme enceinte s'est brusquement précipitée pour la faire réaliser qu'il était temps pour elle de livrer. Elle cria alors qu'elle se précipitait dans la tanière des chats et retourna ensuite à la tanière des Queens pour l'aider si elle le pouvait.

Name - Sootleaf age - 96 moons (She's an old gal) Gender - She-cat Rank - Medicine Cat Clan - Ashclan Appearance - she is also a large cat, about the size of a maine coon. Personality - Sootleaf tends to be cold towards others and she looks down on injuries that were caused by stupidity. She gives few her friendship, but to those she does she is quite protective and caring. She has a soft spots towards kits due to the loss of her own. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Mate and kits (Deceased) History - Sootleaf was raised to be a medicine cat and had herself a mate, Darkwind, who was a warrior. She had two kits with him, Lavakit and Mistkit. Sadly, disease caught her kits, one she didn't know of back then, and her mate passed in a fight. Other - Name - Moonkit Age - 3 moons Gender - She-cat Rank - Kit Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - Moonkit is very playful and loves to follow others around. Her favorite thing to do is to sneak up on apprentices and scare them. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Deceased mother and siblings (Childbirth) History - Moonkit was born to Brightsun, but sadly her mother passed in the birthing process. Moonkit was born blind in one eye and her back left foot is clubbed. Despite this, Moonkit gets around quite well and thinks nothing of her disabilities. Other - Partially blind (Right eye) and clubbed foot (Back left)

Stormpaw, Yarrowkit Stormpaw s'était débrouillé quand Jaggedstar a convoqué la réunion du clan. Il a rembourré le camp et s'est assis à côté des kits. C'était probablement leur cérémonie d'apprentis. Il a remarqué qu'il n'y en avait que trois ici. Yarrowkit n'était nulle part où être vu. Elle était trop faible pour être apprentie de toute façon. Le kit était mieux en tant qu'engrais pour les herbes. Yarrowkit se limitait de derrière lui et s'asseyait avec ses camarades de litière. Elle était pleine de vitalité, d'éclat positif. Elle n'a pas remarqué le regard qu'elle a eu de Stormpaw alors qu'elle s'est endormie à côté de lui. Elle était vraiment excitée. Il est peut-être temps de devenir apprenti! Le kit a jeté un coup d'oeil rapide vers Briarthorn puis de retour à Jaggedstar. Quand le chef a appelé Nightpaw, elle s'est dit qu'il allait s'initier à quelqu'un comme Granitebite. Il avait besoin de quelqu'un pour s'occuper de lui. Son visage est tombé de son sourire excité à celui de la consternation comme il a été affecté à Briarthorn. Elle a vu tous ses rêves s'écraser dans un mouvement rapide. Yarrowkit regardait son frère marcher vers son mentor. Quelque chose à propos de sa démarche était familier. Elle l'a secouée et a regardé de nouveau Jaggedstar avec surprise quand il l'a appelée. Tout le monde avait l'air vraiment surpris. Comment un kit runty pourrait-il devenir l'apprenti du chef du clan? Stormpaw a simplement regardé dans le dédain. Yarrowpaw s'est approchée de Jaggedstar et a serré son nez sur le sien. Peut-être qu'à présent, ils ne la verraient pas comme un Yarrowkit.

Name - Shadowpaw Gender - Male Age - Twelve moons Rank - Warrior apprentice Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Shadowpaw was always large, even as a kit, something he inherited from his mother. He has hard muscles that let him excel in most athletic endeavors and his long fur absorbs impact attacks very well. Personality - Shadowpaw is incredibly stealthy, making it easier for him to pull pranks and scare some of the younger apprentices. He takes delight in teasing those smaller than him(such as Warmpaw), but will ultimately defend them. To the death if need be. His loyalty to his clan stems from his mother. He only wants to make her and his father proud. Ironically, he is afraid of his own shadow as one of his siblings told him that if he wasn't careful, it would eat him. Relationships - Friends with Warmpaw Deceased mother. Father and sibling missing. History - It was a great surprise to everyone when one of the queens gave birth to a male calico. An even greater surprise when he survived. Despite being born second, he was unusually large, towering over his older brother. This caused a rift between the kits. While his brother, Silentkit stuck with their father... From the moment he was born, Shadowpaw was a mama's boy. He always did what he was told and followed her words strictly. She was always the first cat he greeted in the morning, followed by his father. As a kit, he always told her that he would protect her, the other queens and their kits if the camp was attacked, much to his mothers displeasure. He never got the chance. No one expected such a hard Leaf-bare. When his mother died, his father couldn't bare the thought of life without her and he disappeared, taking his brother with him just as the two had reached their apprenticeship. No one knows what happened to them. Shadowpaw was loyal, though. He would never abandon his clan. Many of his friends had died, in their honor, he stayed. In honor of his mother, he stayed. He is excited about having reached his twelfth moon. Soon he would earn his warrior name. Other - Shadowpaw considers Warmpaw to be his best friend, even if Warmpaw disagrees. His favorite cats to prank are his mentor, and Warmpaw. He feels they take it well. Name - Warmpaw Gender - Male Age - Eight moons Rank - Medicine cat apprentice Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Warmpaw is smaller than most at his age. Personality - Warmpaw is very down and out. Especially when left by himself. Among peers, he tries to be cheerful, often making jokes no one thinks is funny. He doesn't feel particularly comfortable within his clan, preferring to spend time away from them. The only cat he likes, even a little, is Shadowpaw. Around others, he is timid. Relationships - "Friends" with Shadowpaw History - Warmpaw's history is shrouded in mystery. He just showed up one day when he was four moons old. No one really knows where he came from, and he likes to keep it that way. Warmpaw would tell anyone that asked that he had a very normal kithood. Only kit to a mother and father who died to greencough in Leaf-bare. In reality, Warmpaw had a brother and sister, Firekit and Sandykit, and he was really from a different clan, one whose name has been forgotten. Warmpaw was barely over three moons when his clan was torn apart by civil war. His mother and father wanted no part of it, so they left. The world was dangerous for three kits, so they found an abandoned fox hole and stayed there for a moon. One foggy morning, Warmpaw convinced his brother and sister to go out and explore the area with him. The three kits snuck out of camp and into the unknown. When their parents realized they were missing, they immediately started searching for them. Eventually, they found the kits near a large borrow and after a proper scolding, ushered the kits back to camp. Before they could be on their way, they heard a deep snarl behind them. Seconds later, a huge dog appeared, snatching up Sandykit. With a deft crunch, she was gone. With a fierceness born of rage, Snowpelt threw herself at the dog, clawing at its eyes. Hooktooth knocked the two remaining kits away and charged after his mate. Warmpaw and his brother ran as fast as they could toward an old tree hollow. As they ran, something flew over their heads and landed in front of them. Warmpaw tripped over himself and slid right into it. It was the mangled body of their mother. The two stood shocked still, gazing at their mother. A howl of victory behind them snapped them back to reality and they took off for the hollow again. They both made it, but the dog was strong and started breaking away the bark that sheltered them. It was at this point, they realized there was more than one dog. Both kits squealed in terror as gnashing teeth appeared before them. They both turned and tried to climb up the back of hollow. One of the dogs was able to grasp Firekit's tail. Warmpaw could only watch in horror as his brother was dragged out screaming. The hole was large enough for him to watch as the helpless kitten was torn to pieces by the dogs. Not far, he could also make out the body of his father, gored and half his face missing. A sharp whistle rang out and the dog stopped before they could turn their sights on Warmpaw himself and they ran off. Having nowhere else to go, Warmpaw remained in that hollow all night. Once the light returned, Warmpaw turned and ran from the territory. After three days of hiding, the scent of food was too much to ignore and he found his way into the Cliffclan camp. Other - Warmpaw has a uniquely keen sense of smell. He won't admit it to anyone, but he considers Shadowpaw a friend. Sort of. Name - Flareheart Gender - Female Age - Fourteen moons Rank - Warrior Clan - Ashclan Appearance - Personality - Flareheart, as her name implies, often experiences bouts of heated emotion. Most common among these is anger. While she has learned to curb this wild feeling, it sometimes goes beyond her control, resulting in debates and the occasional tussle. Aside from this, she is normally docile, showing intense loyalty to her clan mates and a soft love toward the kits. She also has a powerful, often times overwhelming, curiosity. She is afraid of snakes, lizards, and generally all poisonous things. Relationships - Juniperpelt(mother) History - Flareheart is a born and bred cat of the volcano. Ashclan is all she has ever known. Right from the start, you could tell she was going to be a troublemaker. The only kit to a widowed queen, she wanted to know all about everything, much to her mother's dismay. They could often be found arguing over whether she got to go out or not. Her father died before she had been kitted, she was told he went alone against a coyote in the hopes of stemming her curiosity. It did not. As an apprentice, Flareheart was just as wild as she had been as a kit. Except she was actually allowed out of camp. She got into all kinds of trouble. Once she found her love of eating birds, she started to climb trees to get at them. At first, she was just plain awful, coming back from hunting with nothing but bee-lined trips to the medicine den. Over time, she excelled, her determination paving the way to success. Now, as a new warrior, she hopes to put the past behind her and prove she is a warrior worth respecting. Other - High natural prey drive due to breed(shes an ocicat) makes her stay out longer than she usually should looking for food(birds). Name - Yarrowkit Gender - Female Age - six moons Rank - Kit Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Yarrowkit is strong willed and ready to prove herself. She tries her best to live up to her clans views of a warrior, but is looked down on by all. Relationships - sisters- Starkit, Harekit. Brother- Nightkit Mother- Willowfang Father- Oliveclaw Kit crush- Briarthorn History - Yarrowkit is the runt of four kits. Being the last born, her mother named her after yarrow and treated her with nothing but disgust. Her father wanted nothing to do with her. As they got older and more accustomed to clan ways, even her litter mates stopped playing with her. It never kept her from trying her best. This caught the attention of Briarthorn, the clan deputy. He was a bit intimidating, but gentle. Yarrowkit really liked him. She visited him everyday and he would show her tricks to help build her muscles. At least when Jaggedstar wasn't around. She thought Jaggedstar was mean. Briarthorn told the kit, that when she was old enough, he would take her on as his apprentice. Other - Yarrow is the herb used to make cats vomit. Name - Briarthorn Gender - Male Age - 32 moons Rank - Deputy Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - The taskmaster of Lightclan, Briarthorn hands out all orders and commands Jaggedstar desires to be done. He feigns coldness to his clanmates. Even his loyalty to his leader is a façade, his true allegiance lies with his brother, Raggedpelt. He looks upon his clanmates warmly, as opposed to many of the others, but only when Jaggedstar isn't around. Briarthorn is a good mentor and warrior. Relationships - Hawkwing(brother- deceased) Has taken a shine to Yarrowkit, and hopes to prove that even those considered weak could grow into strong warriors, given enough time and encouragement. History - Briarthorn was present during the rebellion started by Raggedpelt. He was taken into confidence, and told to stay out of the fight. If things were to go poorly, someone would need to carry on in their place. When his brother, Hawkwing was slain by Jaggedstar, Briarthorn knew he had to do something to stop his leader. His loyalty was put to question, after Raggedpelt was allowed to leave. He stated that the leaders brother was a traitor and that Jaggedstar had shown incredible restraint in letting him go, whereas he would have ended the tom right there. Briarthorn continued the charade, eventually landing him the rank of deputy. He uses his rank to try and influence the others toward a kinder, more nurturing way. Other - Briarthorn is an infiltrator. A spy. He works behind the scenes to de-throne Jaggedstar and topple the archaic ways of Lightclan. Name - Amberstar Gender - Female Age - 49 moons Rank - Leader Clan - Boulderclan Appearance - This she-cat is huge and towers above most cats. Personality - Amberstar rules Boulderclan with a firm but gentle hand. She welcomes rouges, strays and loners, feeling it makes the clan stronger. She takes all suggestions from her clan and tries her best to accommodate everyone. She is self-conscious about her size. Relationships - No mate, no family. History - As a kit, Amberstar aspired to great things. She was ambitious, and consistently proved herself a valued and talented warrior. It was really no surprise to anyone when she was named deputy. Her strength of character inspired others to be their best. The winter was horrifying. During that time, the former leader died, taking his last life with him. It was a terrible way to ascend to a leadership role, and she had not wanted it to happen that way. Even as she gained her nine lives, several of her clan lost theirs. As the winter ended, Amberstar stood atop the mountains and looked at the world. It was coming into a new spring, and finally her clan would be able to thrive. Other - Name - Stormpaw Gender - Male Age - Eleven moons Rank - Apprentice Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Like all Lightclan members, Stormpaw favors strength. He enjoys a good fight and won't back down from one. He looks down on weak cats, and generally dislikes kits. Even among his own clan, he is cold towards others. Relationships - Mother, father, brother all deceased. History - Perhaps it was the birth of such a cold kit that ended her life. Stormpaw's mother died giving birth to him and his brother, Mosskit. Stormpaw took to the Lightclan philosophy quite well and embraced it while Mosspaw shrunk away from it. It didn't take long for Stormpaw to start antagonizing his brother on his weakness. One night, the two went out. Stormpaw returned soaking wet, but Mosspaw did not. The apprentice stated that his brother fell into the river, and while he did his best to save him, he could not. He showed no remorse or sadness for his brothers death. Other - Name - Granitebite Age - 45 moons Gender - Male Rank - warrior Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Granitebite is a grumpy old tom. He is short with everyone and makes it seem like he has no time for anything. Except his apprentice, if he has one. He likes sunbathing and lazing around. Relationships - Squirrelblossom(mate) History - (Optional) Other - has stiffness in his left back leg. Name - Adderpelt Gender - male Age - 23 moons Rank - Warrior Clan - Boulderclan Appearance - Personality - Incredibly stubborn and not afraid to voice his opinions. He consistently tells other cats that he doesn't need help, but ends up requiring A LOT of help. Likes to play the stud. Relationships - Mother- Coralstep(elder) Father- Hognose(elder) History - (Optional) Other - Name - Leafshade Gender - Female Age - 18 moons Rank - warrior/queen Clan - Oakclan Appearance - Personality - Loving, tender, nurturing. Leafshade is a natural mother. This is coupled by a fierce loyalty to her clan, which she would defend until her dying breath. Relationships - Mudpool(mate) History - (Optional) Other - currently pregnant Name - Appleleap Gender - Female Age - 33 moons Rank - warrior Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - Appleleap takes clan business very seriously and almost always has her nose in everyone's dish. She is kind, but lacks an understanding of MYOB. Often, she has good advice, and enjoys teaching younger cats. Relationships - none or unknown. History - (Optional) Other - Former kittypet. Has a scar on her right front paw.

Flareheart Flareheart a étendu le sommeil de ses muscles et s'est assis pour un toilettage rapide. Pendant son nettoyage, elle a entendu Magmastar dire qu'il voulait « questionner » le nouveau membre de leur clan. Elle roula les yeux et passa par là. "Magmastar, ne trouvez-vous pas mieux à faire que de harceler le clan qu'elle-chats?" ses yeux étincelaient d'amusement. Elle plaisantait... et pas. Alors qu'elle était fidèle au clan, leur chef était extrêmement ennuyeux. Elle est passée, touchant sa queue à l'épaule de Icefire en sortant. "Ignorez-le, vous vous y habituerez." Flareheart aimait avoir une longueur d'avance sur la chasse. Le chat précoce peut manger l'oiseau précoce. Des oiseaux. Elle a presque commencé à baver. Il n'y avait sûrement rien de mieux qu'un moineau savoureux pris au dépourvu. Elle s'est arrêtée à l'entrée et a regardé Magmastar. "Je peux y aller?" Taupe d'ombre Aujourd'hui allait être une belle journée! Shadowpaw pouvait le sentir dans ses os. Il a pris une profonde respiration et s'est exhalé lentement. Sur la première commande du jour, salutation Spottedblossom et les kits. Il ne pouvait pas attendre pour montrer à Moonkit son nouveau truc pour se faufiler sur les chats. Il secoua son long manteau et trotta jusqu'à la pile fraîche de tuer et choisit une souris de plomb pour le chat-elle et quelques plus petits pour les kits. Il pourrait se nourrir plus tard. Il était important qu'ils puissent manger et apprendre à vomir correctement. Il les a ramassés par leurs queues et s'est dirigé vers la tanière des reines. "Bonjour, Spotted Blossom. Bonjour, kits." Il a dit entre ses dents. Il a posé la viande derrière la reine et a regardé autour. C'était un peu plus froid ici qu'il ne devrait l'être et il semblait que tout le monde était enroulé contre la brise. Il n'a repéré aucune infiltration d'eau de la pierre dans le dos et aucun trou parmi les embrouilles. Ça devait être l'entrée. "Il fait trop froid ici pour toi et les kits? Je pourrais prendre quelque chose pour mieux le couvrir quand je sortirai avec Tundraclaw aujourd'hui." Il a refait Moonkit sur ses pattes. Il avait parlé à Warmpaw et Sundapple de sa patte. Le chat de médecine avait dit qu'il n'y avait pas grand chose qu'ils pouvaient faire, mais Warmpaw avait quelques idées. Rien n'était encore solide, mais au moins il y avait de l'espoir. Il a léché le kit et a dit, "C'est le matin, tête endormie. Voilà, c'est pour toi." Shadowpaw a poussé une des souris plus petites vers elle, "Mangez, j'ai une surprise pour vous." Quand Tundraclaw est apparu, Shadowpaw a fait un visage à son mentor. Le Tom n'a jamais caché son désir de Spotted Blossom. "Prends-toi à ça, Tundraclaw!"

Name - Shadowpaw Gender - Male Age - Twelve moons Rank - Warrior apprentice Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Shadowpaw was always large, even as a kit, something he inherited from his mother. He has hard muscles that let him excel in most athletic endeavors and his long fur absorbs impact attacks very well. Personality - Shadowpaw is incredibly stealthy, making it easier for him to pull pranks and scare some of the younger apprentices. He takes delight in teasing those smaller than him(such as Warmpaw), but will ultimately defend them. To the death if need be. His loyalty to his clan stems from his mother. He only wants to make her and his father proud. Ironically, he is afraid of his own shadow as one of his siblings told him that if he wasn't careful, it would eat him. Relationships - Friends with Warmpaw Deceased mother. Father and sibling missing. History - It was a great surprise to everyone when one of the queens gave birth to a male calico. An even greater surprise when he survived. Despite being born second, he was unusually large, towering over his older brother. This caused a rift between the kits. While his brother, Silentkit stuck with their father... From the moment he was born, Shadowpaw was a mama's boy. He always did what he was told and followed her words strictly. She was always the first cat he greeted in the morning, followed by his father. As a kit, he always told her that he would protect her, the other queens and their kits if the camp was attacked, much to his mothers displeasure. He never got the chance. No one expected such a hard Leaf-bare. When his mother died, his father couldn't bare the thought of life without her and he disappeared, taking his brother with him just as the two had reached their apprenticeship. No one knows what happened to them. Shadowpaw was loyal, though. He would never abandon his clan. Many of his friends had died, in their honor, he stayed. In honor of his mother, he stayed. He is excited about having reached his twelfth moon. Soon he would earn his warrior name. Other - Shadowpaw considers Warmpaw to be his best friend, even if Warmpaw disagrees. His favorite cats to prank are his mentor, and Warmpaw. He feels they take it well. Name - Warmpaw Gender - Male Age - Eight moons Rank - Medicine cat apprentice Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Warmpaw is smaller than most at his age. Personality - Warmpaw is very down and out. Especially when left by himself. Among peers, he tries to be cheerful, often making jokes no one thinks is funny. He doesn't feel particularly comfortable within his clan, preferring to spend time away from them. The only cat he likes, even a little, is Shadowpaw. Around others, he is timid. Relationships - "Friends" with Shadowpaw History - Warmpaw's history is shrouded in mystery. He just showed up one day when he was four moons old. No one really knows where he came from, and he likes to keep it that way. Warmpaw would tell anyone that asked that he had a very normal kithood. Only kit to a mother and father who died to greencough in Leaf-bare. In reality, Warmpaw had a brother and sister, Firekit and Sandykit, and he was really from a different clan, one whose name has been forgotten. Warmpaw was barely over three moons when his clan was torn apart by civil war. His mother and father wanted no part of it, so they left. The world was dangerous for three kits, so they found an abandoned fox hole and stayed there for a moon. One foggy morning, Warmpaw convinced his brother and sister to go out and explore the area with him. The three kits snuck out of camp and into the unknown. When their parents realized they were missing, they immediately started searching for them. Eventually, they found the kits near a large borrow and after a proper scolding, ushered the kits back to camp. Before they could be on their way, they heard a deep snarl behind them. Seconds later, a huge dog appeared, snatching up Sandykit. With a deft crunch, she was gone. With a fierceness born of rage, Snowpelt threw herself at the dog, clawing at its eyes. Hooktooth knocked the two remaining kits away and charged after his mate. Warmpaw and his brother ran as fast as they could toward an old tree hollow. As they ran, something flew over their heads and landed in front of them. Warmpaw tripped over himself and slid right into it. It was the mangled body of their mother. The two stood shocked still, gazing at their mother. A howl of victory behind them snapped them back to reality and they took off for the hollow again. They both made it, but the dog was strong and started breaking away the bark that sheltered them. It was at this point, they realized there was more than one dog. Both kits squealed in terror as gnashing teeth appeared before them. They both turned and tried to climb up the back of hollow. One of the dogs was able to grasp Firekit's tail. Warmpaw could only watch in horror as his brother was dragged out screaming. The hole was large enough for him to watch as the helpless kitten was torn to pieces by the dogs. Not far, he could also make out the body of his father, gored and half his face missing. A sharp whistle rang out and the dog stopped before they could turn their sights on Warmpaw himself and they ran off. Having nowhere else to go, Warmpaw remained in that hollow all night. Once the light returned, Warmpaw turned and ran from the territory. After three days of hiding, the scent of food was too much to ignore and he found his way into the Cliffclan camp. Other - Warmpaw has a uniquely keen sense of smell. He won't admit it to anyone, but he considers Shadowpaw a friend. Sort of. Name - Flareheart Gender - Female Age - Fourteen moons Rank - Warrior Clan - Ashclan Appearance - Personality - Flareheart, as her name implies, often experiences bouts of heated emotion. Most common among these is anger. While she has learned to curb this wild feeling, it sometimes goes beyond her control, resulting in debates and the occasional tussle. Aside from this, she is normally docile, showing intense loyalty to her clan mates and a soft love toward the kits. She also has a powerful, often times overwhelming, curiosity. She is afraid of snakes, lizards, and generally all poisonous things. Relationships - Juniperpelt(mother) History - Flareheart is a born and bred cat of the volcano. Ashclan is all she has ever known. Right from the start, you could tell she was going to be a troublemaker. The only kit to a widowed queen, she wanted to know all about everything, much to her mother's dismay. They could often be found arguing over whether she got to go out or not. Her father died before she had been kitted, she was told he went alone against a coyote in the hopes of stemming her curiosity. It did not. As an apprentice, Flareheart was just as wild as she had been as a kit. Except she was actually allowed out of camp. She got into all kinds of trouble. Once she found her love of eating birds, she started to climb trees to get at them. At first, she was just plain awful, coming back from hunting with nothing but bee-lined trips to the medicine den. Over time, she excelled, her determination paving the way to success. Now, as a new warrior, she hopes to put the past behind her and prove she is a warrior worth respecting. Other - High natural prey drive due to breed(shes an ocicat) makes her stay out longer than she usually should looking for food(birds). Name - Yarrowkit Gender - Female Age - six moons Rank - Kit Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Yarrowkit is strong willed and ready to prove herself. She tries her best to live up to her clans views of a warrior, but is looked down on by all. Relationships - sisters- Starkit, Harekit. Brother- Nightkit Mother- Willowfang Father- Oliveclaw Kit crush- Briarthorn History - Yarrowkit is the runt of four kits. Being the last born, her mother named her after yarrow and treated her with nothing but disgust. Her father wanted nothing to do with her. As they got older and more accustomed to clan ways, even her litter mates stopped playing with her. It never kept her from trying her best. This caught the attention of Briarthorn, the clan deputy. He was a bit intimidating, but gentle. Yarrowkit really liked him. She visited him everyday and he would show her tricks to help build her muscles. At least when Jaggedstar wasn't around. She thought Jaggedstar was mean. Briarthorn told the kit, that when she was old enough, he would take her on as his apprentice. Other - Yarrow is the herb used to make cats vomit. Name - Briarthorn Gender - Male Age - 32 moons Rank - Deputy Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - The taskmaster of Lightclan, Briarthorn hands out all orders and commands Jaggedstar desires to be done. He feigns coldness to his clanmates. Even his loyalty to his leader is a façade, his true allegiance lies with his brother, Raggedpelt. He looks upon his clanmates warmly, as opposed to many of the others, but only when Jaggedstar isn't around. Briarthorn is a good mentor and warrior. Relationships - Hawkwing(brother- deceased) Has taken a shine to Yarrowkit, and hopes to prove that even those considered weak could grow into strong warriors, given enough time and encouragement. History - Briarthorn was present during the rebellion started by Raggedpelt. He was taken into confidence, and told to stay out of the fight. If things were to go poorly, someone would need to carry on in their place. When his brother, Hawkwing was slain by Jaggedstar, Briarthorn knew he had to do something to stop his leader. His loyalty was put to question, after Raggedpelt was allowed to leave. He stated that the leaders brother was a traitor and that Jaggedstar had shown incredible restraint in letting him go, whereas he would have ended the tom right there. Briarthorn continued the charade, eventually landing him the rank of deputy. He uses his rank to try and influence the others toward a kinder, more nurturing way. Other - Briarthorn is an infiltrator. A spy. He works behind the scenes to de-throne Jaggedstar and topple the archaic ways of Lightclan. Name - Amberstar Gender - Female Age - 49 moons Rank - Leader Clan - Boulderclan Appearance - This she-cat is huge and towers above most cats. Personality - Amberstar rules Boulderclan with a firm but gentle hand. She welcomes rouges, strays and loners, feeling it makes the clan stronger. She takes all suggestions from her clan and tries her best to accommodate everyone. She is self-conscious about her size. Relationships - No mate, no family. History - As a kit, Amberstar aspired to great things. She was ambitious, and consistently proved herself a valued and talented warrior. It was really no surprise to anyone when she was named deputy. Her strength of character inspired others to be their best. The winter was horrifying. During that time, the former leader died, taking his last life with him. It was a terrible way to ascend to a leadership role, and she had not wanted it to happen that way. Even as she gained her nine lives, several of her clan lost theirs. As the winter ended, Amberstar stood atop the mountains and looked at the world. It was coming into a new spring, and finally her clan would be able to thrive. Other - Name - Stormpaw Gender - Male Age - Eleven moons Rank - Apprentice Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Like all Lightclan members, Stormpaw favors strength. He enjoys a good fight and won't back down from one. He looks down on weak cats, and generally dislikes kits. Even among his own clan, he is cold towards others. Relationships - Mother, father, brother all deceased. History - Perhaps it was the birth of such a cold kit that ended her life. Stormpaw's mother died giving birth to him and his brother, Mosskit. Stormpaw took to the Lightclan philosophy quite well and embraced it while Mosspaw shrunk away from it. It didn't take long for Stormpaw to start antagonizing his brother on his weakness. One night, the two went out. Stormpaw returned soaking wet, but Mosspaw did not. The apprentice stated that his brother fell into the river, and while he did his best to save him, he could not. He showed no remorse or sadness for his brothers death. Other - Name - Granitebite Age - 45 moons Gender - Male Rank - warrior Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Granitebite is a grumpy old tom. He is short with everyone and makes it seem like he has no time for anything. Except his apprentice, if he has one. He likes sunbathing and lazing around. Relationships - Squirrelblossom(mate) History - (Optional) Other - has stiffness in his left back leg. Name - Adderpelt Gender - male Age - 23 moons Rank - Warrior Clan - Boulderclan Appearance - Personality - Incredibly stubborn and not afraid to voice his opinions. He consistently tells other cats that he doesn't need help, but ends up requiring A LOT of help. Likes to play the stud. Relationships - Mother- Coralstep(elder) Father- Hognose(elder) History - (Optional) Other - Name - Leafshade Gender - Female Age - 18 moons Rank - warrior/queen Clan - Oakclan Appearance - Personality - Loving, tender, nurturing. Leafshade is a natural mother. This is coupled by a fierce loyalty to her clan, which she would defend until her dying breath. Relationships - Mudpool(mate) History - (Optional) Other - currently pregnant Name - Appleleap Gender - Female Age - 33 moons Rank - warrior Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - Appleleap takes clan business very seriously and almost always has her nose in everyone's dish. She is kind, but lacks an understanding of MYOB. Often, she has good advice, and enjoys teaching younger cats. Relationships - none or unknown. History - (Optional) Other - Former kittypet. Has a scar on her right front paw.

Warmpaw Warmpaw a regardé les étoiles. La lumière avait commencé à saigner dans le ciel de la nuit, provoquant leur étincelement silencieux, puis s'estomper tous ensemble. Il avait toujours eu du mal à dormir, mais ce soir c'était pire que d'habitude. Même les graines de pavot ne pouvaient pas le défendre de ses cauchemars. Mais les étoiles étaient une grande compagnie. Il pouvait leur parler et ils écoutaient simplement. Pas de jugement, ni de critique. Pourtant, il a voulu une nuit de sommeil complet. Les guerriers se réveilleraient bientôt, il pourrait avoir une autre heure de sommeil s'il essayait. Qu'est-ce que c'est? C'était toujours pire d'y retourner. Les visages, le sang, l'horreur, c'était pire. Le jeune Tom est arrivé à Cliffclan comme un kit. Warmpaw avait été surpris quand le chat de médecine lui a dit qu'il devait être leur apprenti. Bientôt, cependant, il a appris qu'il avait l'esprit et le sens de l'odeur pour les herbes. Il pouvait sentir une blessure infectieuse de trente pieds et il connaissait toutes les bonnes herbes pour la guérir. En deux courtes lunes, il avait beaucoup appris. Il était fier de lui. Pour une fois. Warmpaw voulait parler de lui à tout le monde. Que tout soit connu. Mais il craignait ce qui arriverait. Est-ce qu'ils le jetteraient dehors? Il a causé la mort de toute sa famille. C'est pas vrai. Personne ne saurait jamais. Ils ne pouvaient pas. Surtout Shadowpaw. Amberstar Amberstar regarda son clan au début de la journée. Son visage était un masque de pensée. Dans son sommeil, Starclan lui avait envoyé une vision. Un qui l'aiderait à choisir son adjoint. Bien que le signe soit très clair, elle ne pensait pas que tout le monde serait d'accord. Celui choisi par ses ancêtres était brash, mais semblait très loyal. Le chat ne faisait pas partie du clan d'origine. Pourtant, il n'y avait aucun déni à ceux des étoiles. Retirée d'elle-même par une voix, elle regarda Brimpelt se déplacer autour du clan. Il avait fait inspecter le camp tous les matins. Elle a beaucoup apprécié son aide. Il ferait un grand député et tout le monde le soutiendrait, mais ce n'était pas le cas. Elle s'est sentie pour le Tom, il a travaillé dur pour garder le clan en sécurité. Il méritait d'être député, mais Starclan avait ses propres idées. La vision était d'une rivière précipitée. Pas d'autres bruits que le crash et le rugissement de l'eau. Amberstar a attendu que tout le monde soit retourné au camp et a appelé, "Venez tout le monde, Starclan m'a envoyé un signe. Il est temps pour vous de rencontrer votre nouveau député! » Briarthorn Briarthorn a vu Jaggedstar sortir de sa tanière. Le Tom ne l'a même pas regardé. Après tout ce qu'il avait fait pour le clan, tous les ordres qu'il avait passés, c'est comme ça qu'il a été traité. La méfiance et l'agression. Il roula les yeux et s'assit exactement où il était. Pas de raison de bouger s'il ne veut même pas faire une simple salutation. C'était le même endroit où il était assis tous les matins qu'il attendait les ordres. Chaque chat pouvait le voir, il pouvait voir tout le monde. Aujourd'hui, il rencontrerait Raggedpelt. Briarthorn a horreur de lui dire que Yarrowkit n'allait pas l'apprendre. La boîte était de plus en plus forte en faisant ses tours. Jagdestar ne pouvait pas voir que tout ce qu'il voulait c'était de rendre le clan fort? Le chat ne faisait confiance à personne. Yarrowkit aurait besoin d'être forte pour survivre à tout ce que Jagdestar avait prévu pour elle. Arbre-feuilles "Ouh...! Ah! " Un chat-elle dans la tanière des reines d'Oakclan jeté et tourné dans son nid. Il n'y avait pas moyen de se mettre à l'aise! C'est ainsi qu'elle savait qu'il était temps d'accoucher. Avec un huff, Leafshade s'est levée et s'est évanouie hors de la tanière. Ses côtés sont gonflés, lourd avec sa grossesse. C'était juste après l'aube et l'heure d'une collation rapide. Le nouveau tas de morts était à une courte distance de la tanière, mais l'effort de se déplacer la laissa souffler. Une fois qu'elle a atteint la nourriture, elle s'est assise et a panté. Peut-être que Mudpool aurait apporté sa nourriture la prochaine fois. L'ombre de feuilles a trouvé un petit campagnol et s'y est percutée. Elle a pris son temps à manger, puisque les autres commençaient juste à se réveiller. Elle devrait parler à Frostwhisker de rester à proximité. C'était... C'était... Leafshade a laissé sortir un yowl et a couru dans la tanière, laissant une moitié de campagnol mangé derrière. Il était temps!

Name - Shadowpaw Gender - Male Age - Twelve moons Rank - Warrior apprentice Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Shadowpaw was always large, even as a kit, something he inherited from his mother. He has hard muscles that let him excel in most athletic endeavors and his long fur absorbs impact attacks very well. Personality - Shadowpaw is incredibly stealthy, making it easier for him to pull pranks and scare some of the younger apprentices. He takes delight in teasing those smaller than him(such as Warmpaw), but will ultimately defend them. To the death if need be. His loyalty to his clan stems from his mother. He only wants to make her and his father proud. Ironically, he is afraid of his own shadow as one of his siblings told him that if he wasn't careful, it would eat him. Relationships - Friends with Warmpaw Deceased mother. Father and sibling missing. History - It was a great surprise to everyone when one of the queens gave birth to a male calico. An even greater surprise when he survived. Despite being born second, he was unusually large, towering over his older brother. This caused a rift between the kits. While his brother, Silentkit stuck with their father... From the moment he was born, Shadowpaw was a mama's boy. He always did what he was told and followed her words strictly. She was always the first cat he greeted in the morning, followed by his father. As a kit, he always told her that he would protect her, the other queens and their kits if the camp was attacked, much to his mothers displeasure. He never got the chance. No one expected such a hard Leaf-bare. When his mother died, his father couldn't bare the thought of life without her and he disappeared, taking his brother with him just as the two had reached their apprenticeship. No one knows what happened to them. Shadowpaw was loyal, though. He would never abandon his clan. Many of his friends had died, in their honor, he stayed. In honor of his mother, he stayed. He is excited about having reached his twelfth moon. Soon he would earn his warrior name. Other - Shadowpaw considers Warmpaw to be his best friend, even if Warmpaw disagrees. His favorite cats to prank are his mentor, and Warmpaw. He feels they take it well. Name - Warmpaw Gender - Male Age - Eight moons Rank - Medicine cat apprentice Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Warmpaw is smaller than most at his age. Personality - Warmpaw is very down and out. Especially when left by himself. Among peers, he tries to be cheerful, often making jokes no one thinks is funny. He doesn't feel particularly comfortable within his clan, preferring to spend time away from them. The only cat he likes, even a little, is Shadowpaw. Around others, he is timid. Relationships - "Friends" with Shadowpaw History - Warmpaw's history is shrouded in mystery. He just showed up one day when he was four moons old. No one really knows where he came from, and he likes to keep it that way. Warmpaw would tell anyone that asked that he had a very normal kithood. Only kit to a mother and father who died to greencough in Leaf-bare. In reality, Warmpaw had a brother and sister, Firekit and Sandykit, and he was really from a different clan, one whose name has been forgotten. Warmpaw was barely over three moons when his clan was torn apart by civil war. His mother and father wanted no part of it, so they left. The world was dangerous for three kits, so they found an abandoned fox hole and stayed there for a moon. One foggy morning, Warmpaw convinced his brother and sister to go out and explore the area with him. The three kits snuck out of camp and into the unknown. When their parents realized they were missing, they immediately started searching for them. Eventually, they found the kits near a large borrow and after a proper scolding, ushered the kits back to camp. Before they could be on their way, they heard a deep snarl behind them. Seconds later, a huge dog appeared, snatching up Sandykit. With a deft crunch, she was gone. With a fierceness born of rage, Snowpelt threw herself at the dog, clawing at its eyes. Hooktooth knocked the two remaining kits away and charged after his mate. Warmpaw and his brother ran as fast as they could toward an old tree hollow. As they ran, something flew over their heads and landed in front of them. Warmpaw tripped over himself and slid right into it. It was the mangled body of their mother. The two stood shocked still, gazing at their mother. A howl of victory behind them snapped them back to reality and they took off for the hollow again. They both made it, but the dog was strong and started breaking away the bark that sheltered them. It was at this point, they realized there was more than one dog. Both kits squealed in terror as gnashing teeth appeared before them. They both turned and tried to climb up the back of hollow. One of the dogs was able to grasp Firekit's tail. Warmpaw could only watch in horror as his brother was dragged out screaming. The hole was large enough for him to watch as the helpless kitten was torn to pieces by the dogs. Not far, he could also make out the body of his father, gored and half his face missing. A sharp whistle rang out and the dog stopped before they could turn their sights on Warmpaw himself and they ran off. Having nowhere else to go, Warmpaw remained in that hollow all night. Once the light returned, Warmpaw turned and ran from the territory. After three days of hiding, the scent of food was too much to ignore and he found his way into the Cliffclan camp. Other - Warmpaw has a uniquely keen sense of smell. He won't admit it to anyone, but he considers Shadowpaw a friend. Sort of. Name - Flareheart Gender - Female Age - Fourteen moons Rank - Warrior Clan - Ashclan Appearance - Personality - Flareheart, as her name implies, often experiences bouts of heated emotion. Most common among these is anger. While she has learned to curb this wild feeling, it sometimes goes beyond her control, resulting in debates and the occasional tussle. Aside from this, she is normally docile, showing intense loyalty to her clan mates and a soft love toward the kits. She also has a powerful, often times overwhelming, curiosity. She is afraid of snakes, lizards, and generally all poisonous things. Relationships - Juniperpelt(mother) History - Flareheart is a born and bred cat of the volcano. Ashclan is all she has ever known. Right from the start, you could tell she was going to be a troublemaker. The only kit to a widowed queen, she wanted to know all about everything, much to her mother's dismay. They could often be found arguing over whether she got to go out or not. Her father died before she had been kitted, she was told he went alone against a coyote in the hopes of stemming her curiosity. It did not. As an apprentice, Flareheart was just as wild as she had been as a kit. Except she was actually allowed out of camp. She got into all kinds of trouble. Once she found her love of eating birds, she started to climb trees to get at them. At first, she was just plain awful, coming back from hunting with nothing but bee-lined trips to the medicine den. Over time, she excelled, her determination paving the way to success. Now, as a new warrior, she hopes to put the past behind her and prove she is a warrior worth respecting. Other - High natural prey drive due to breed(shes an ocicat) makes her stay out longer than she usually should looking for food(birds). Name - Yarrowkit Gender - Female Age - six moons Rank - Kit Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Yarrowkit is strong willed and ready to prove herself. She tries her best to live up to her clans views of a warrior, but is looked down on by all. Relationships - sisters- Starkit, Harekit. Brother- Nightkit Mother- Willowfang Father- Oliveclaw Kit crush- Briarthorn History - Yarrowkit is the runt of four kits. Being the last born, her mother named her after yarrow and treated her with nothing but disgust. Her father wanted nothing to do with her. As they got older and more accustomed to clan ways, even her litter mates stopped playing with her. It never kept her from trying her best. This caught the attention of Briarthorn, the clan deputy. He was a bit intimidating, but gentle. Yarrowkit really liked him. She visited him everyday and he would show her tricks to help build her muscles. At least when Jaggedstar wasn't around. She thought Jaggedstar was mean. Briarthorn told the kit, that when she was old enough, he would take her on as his apprentice. Other - Yarrow is the herb used to make cats vomit. Name - Briarthorn Gender - Male Age - 32 moons Rank - Deputy Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - The taskmaster of Lightclan, Briarthorn hands out all orders and commands Jaggedstar desires to be done. He feigns coldness to his clanmates. Even his loyalty to his leader is a façade, his true allegiance lies with his brother, Raggedpelt. He looks upon his clanmates warmly, as opposed to many of the others, but only when Jaggedstar isn't around. Briarthorn is a good mentor and warrior. Relationships - Hawkwing(brother- deceased) Has taken a shine to Yarrowkit, and hopes to prove that even those considered weak could grow into strong warriors, given enough time and encouragement. History - Briarthorn was present during the rebellion started by Raggedpelt. He was taken into confidence, and told to stay out of the fight. If things were to go poorly, someone would need to carry on in their place. When his brother, Hawkwing was slain by Jaggedstar, Briarthorn knew he had to do something to stop his leader. His loyalty was put to question, after Raggedpelt was allowed to leave. He stated that the leaders brother was a traitor and that Jaggedstar had shown incredible restraint in letting him go, whereas he would have ended the tom right there. Briarthorn continued the charade, eventually landing him the rank of deputy. He uses his rank to try and influence the others toward a kinder, more nurturing way. Other - Briarthorn is an infiltrator. A spy. He works behind the scenes to de-throne Jaggedstar and topple the archaic ways of Lightclan. Name - Amberstar Gender - Female Age - 49 moons Rank - Leader Clan - Boulderclan Appearance - This she-cat is huge and towers above most cats. Personality - Amberstar rules Boulderclan with a firm but gentle hand. She welcomes rouges, strays and loners, feeling it makes the clan stronger. She takes all suggestions from her clan and tries her best to accommodate everyone. She is self-conscious about her size. Relationships - No mate, no family. History - As a kit, Amberstar aspired to great things. She was ambitious, and consistently proved herself a valued and talented warrior. It was really no surprise to anyone when she was named deputy. Her strength of character inspired others to be their best. The winter was horrifying. During that time, the former leader died, taking his last life with him. It was a terrible way to ascend to a leadership role, and she had not wanted it to happen that way. Even as she gained her nine lives, several of her clan lost theirs. As the winter ended, Amberstar stood atop the mountains and looked at the world. It was coming into a new spring, and finally her clan would be able to thrive. Other - Name - Stormpaw Gender - Male Age - Eleven moons Rank - Apprentice Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Like all Lightclan members, Stormpaw favors strength. He enjoys a good fight and won't back down from one. He looks down on weak cats, and generally dislikes kits. Even among his own clan, he is cold towards others. Relationships - Mother, father, brother all deceased. History - Perhaps it was the birth of such a cold kit that ended her life. Stormpaw's mother died giving birth to him and his brother, Mosskit. Stormpaw took to the Lightclan philosophy quite well and embraced it while Mosspaw shrunk away from it. It didn't take long for Stormpaw to start antagonizing his brother on his weakness. One night, the two went out. Stormpaw returned soaking wet, but Mosspaw did not. The apprentice stated that his brother fell into the river, and while he did his best to save him, he could not. He showed no remorse or sadness for his brothers death. Other - Name - Granitebite Age - 45 moons Gender - Male Rank - warrior Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Granitebite is a grumpy old tom. He is short with everyone and makes it seem like he has no time for anything. Except his apprentice, if he has one. He likes sunbathing and lazing around. Relationships - Squirrelblossom(mate) History - (Optional) Other - has stiffness in his left back leg. Name - Adderpelt Gender - male Age - 23 moons Rank - Warrior Clan - Boulderclan Appearance - Personality - Incredibly stubborn and not afraid to voice his opinions. He consistently tells other cats that he doesn't need help, but ends up requiring A LOT of help. Likes to play the stud. Relationships - Mother- Coralstep(elder) Father- Hognose(elder) History - (Optional) Other - Name - Leafshade Gender - Female Age - 18 moons Rank - warrior/queen Clan - Oakclan Appearance - Personality - Loving, tender, nurturing. Leafshade is a natural mother. This is coupled by a fierce loyalty to her clan, which she would defend until her dying breath. Relationships - Mudpool(mate) History - (Optional) Other - currently pregnant Name - Appleleap Gender - Female Age - 33 moons Rank - warrior Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - Appleleap takes clan business very seriously and almost always has her nose in everyone's dish. She is kind, but lacks an understanding of MYOB. Often, she has good advice, and enjoys teaching younger cats. Relationships - none or unknown. History - (Optional) Other - Former kittypet. Has a scar on her right front paw.

Magmastar d'Ashclan Interactions: Flareheart Feuille de suie Feu de glace Eh bien, si c'était surprenant qu'ils fussent après, les deux femelles devraient se considérer comme réussies car Magmastar a été assez surpris par leur comportement rebelle. C'était au point où son humeur assez heureuse s'est rapidement enfuie dans le sable alors que l'humeur matinale ennuyée s'est installée à sa place. Il savait que les deux étaient des fauteurs de troubles, mais l'insulter poussait vraiment dur surtout quand les situations étaient plutôt pacifiques. Flottant sa queue, ses yeux se rétrécissaient alors qu'il regardait les deux femelles et regardait ensuite le chat de médecine qui, apparemment, a obtenu tous les éloges d'IceFire quand il était finalement celui qui la laissait entrer dans le clan. Cependant, en tant que son chef, il a supposé que cela pourrait facilement être changé, et comme il a vu à la fois IceFire et Flareheart comme il pensait à ce qu'il à faire avec eux. Au début, son attention s'est entièrement tournée vers Flareheart car elle avait demandé sa permission de partir même après qu'elle l'ait "quelque peu" insulté. Peut-être devrais-je passer mon temps à vous discipliner à la place de Flareheart? Une heure dans la fosse à flammes vous rappellerait que vous devriez parler avec plus de respect... ", a - t - il dit en marchant plus près des trois. "Et toi, IceFire... qui vient à peine de gagner ta place ici, es-tu déjà impatient de la perdre?" Peut-être devrais-je vous faire combattre à mort avec Flareheart pour voir qui d'entre vous est vraiment digne de rester dans ce clan? » Il a annoncé avant de s'installer à nouveau. Il regarda les deux avec fermeté avant de regarder un peu la feuille de Soot, puis il soupira. "Cependant... Je ne suis pas mon père et je vais donc faire les choses un peu différemment » a-t-il dit et a regardé pleinement Flareheart d'abord. "Mon cœur... Par la présente, vous êtes chargé de mener une expédition de chasse aux côtés de Icefire. pour votre irrespect L'échec ne sera pas toléré. ". Il lui a dit de lui donner un moment pour comprendre sa décision avant de se tourner vers Icefire. "Icefire Je n'aime pas ton ton, quand je t'appelle pour t'interroger, je m'attends à ce que tu ne remettes pas en question mon ordre... Cependant, je vous ai mis sous les ordres de Flarehart dans la chasse et vos ordres sont les suivants... Vous deux, vous procéderez ensemble à l'expédition de chasse, car les événements récents exigent un plus grand nombre de personnes pour assurer la sécurité. Vous n'êtes en aucune circonstance autre que dans l'auto défense pour combattre d'autres chats, si vous remarquez quelque chose que vous êtes de rapporter au clan sans échec. Votre congédiement maintenant... Je ne veux pas entendre des plaintes ni des fesses... un retour réussi ou d'autres peines seront dues. C'est tout » a-t-il dit d'un ton ferme et exigeant. Il a finalement tourné son attention vers Sootleaf: "Comment te sens - tu, Sootleaf? (...) Vous avez besoin d'aide dans vos tâches aujourd'hui? » Il a demandé de vouloir s'assurer qu'elle pouvait les exécuter, après tout, il ne voulait pas perdre le chat de médecine du Clan et il était sûr qu'il pourrait épargner quelques chats pour l'aider avec tout ce dont elle pourrait avoir besoin. Berrydream d'OakClan Interactions: Frostwhisker/Featherwhisker. Elle se moquait de la reine qui allait accoucher, regardant le chat de médecine comme elle venait et prenant note de sa tâche pour elle. "Oh?... Bien sûr, je la trouverai aussi vite que je peux » répondit-elle avec empressement comme elle voulait l'aider. Elle s'est vite relevée alors qu'elle pensait qu'elle n'avait pas besoin d'ici et s'est enfuie pour essayer de trouver Featherwhisker. "Featherwhisker?... - C'est le fer à plumes? Quelqu'un a-t-il vu un voleur de plumes? Elle a couru demander à quelqu'un éveillé essayant de ne pas causer trop d'une scène car elle ne voulait pas réveiller ceux qui dormaient dans à cause de leur travail nocturne.

Name - Sootleaf age - 96 moons (She's an old gal) Gender - She-cat Rank - Medicine Cat Clan - Ashclan Appearance - she is also a large cat, about the size of a maine coon. Personality - Sootleaf tends to be cold towards others and she looks down on injuries that were caused by stupidity. She gives few her friendship, but to those she does she is quite protective and caring. She has a soft spots towards kits due to the loss of her own. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Mate and kits (Deceased) History - Sootleaf was raised to be a medicine cat and had herself a mate, Darkwind, who was a warrior. She had two kits with him, Lavakit and Mistkit. Sadly, disease caught her kits, one she didn't know of back then, and her mate passed in a fight. Other - Name - Moonkit Age - 3 moons Gender - She-cat Rank - Kit Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - Moonkit is very playful and loves to follow others around. Her favorite thing to do is to sneak up on apprentices and scare them. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Deceased mother and siblings (Childbirth) History - Moonkit was born to Brightsun, but sadly her mother passed in the birthing process. Moonkit was born blind in one eye and her back left foot is clubbed. Despite this, Moonkit gets around quite well and thinks nothing of her disabilities. Other - Partially blind (Right eye) and clubbed foot (Back left)

Briarthorn Le Tom a rétréci les yeux à Jagdestar quand il a nommé Nightpaw son apprenti. Alors que Briarthorn n'avait aucune hésitation à enseigner au nouvel apprenti, il devrait recommencer complètement en essayant d'éliminer les terribles manières de Lightclan. -- J'espère que vous ne le ferez pas. Il a répondu. Rainfang s'était levé et avait félicité Briarthorn pour son apprenti. Il a ensuite commenté son désir de mentorer Yarrowpaw. Briarthorn a fait une face latérale à la tom. Sa déception était-elle aussi claire? Il était sûrement mieux à cacher ses expressions que cela. Comment aurait-il pu rester comme adjoint à Jagdestar aussi longtemps? C'est pas vrai. Rainfang faisait des suppositions. Il a décidé de changer de sujet. "Comment ça va avec Stormpaw? D'après ce que je comprends, il est sur le point d'atteindre sa douzième lune. Pensez-vous qu'il soit prêt à être un guerrier de Lightclan?"

Name - Shadowpaw Gender - Male Age - Twelve moons Rank - Warrior apprentice Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Shadowpaw was always large, even as a kit, something he inherited from his mother. He has hard muscles that let him excel in most athletic endeavors and his long fur absorbs impact attacks very well. Personality - Shadowpaw is incredibly stealthy, making it easier for him to pull pranks and scare some of the younger apprentices. He takes delight in teasing those smaller than him(such as Warmpaw), but will ultimately defend them. To the death if need be. His loyalty to his clan stems from his mother. He only wants to make her and his father proud. Ironically, he is afraid of his own shadow as one of his siblings told him that if he wasn't careful, it would eat him. Relationships - Friends with Warmpaw Deceased mother. Father and sibling missing. History - It was a great surprise to everyone when one of the queens gave birth to a male calico. An even greater surprise when he survived. Despite being born second, he was unusually large, towering over his older brother. This caused a rift between the kits. While his brother, Silentkit stuck with their father... From the moment he was born, Shadowpaw was a mama's boy. He always did what he was told and followed her words strictly. She was always the first cat he greeted in the morning, followed by his father. As a kit, he always told her that he would protect her, the other queens and their kits if the camp was attacked, much to his mothers displeasure. He never got the chance. No one expected such a hard Leaf-bare. When his mother died, his father couldn't bare the thought of life without her and he disappeared, taking his brother with him just as the two had reached their apprenticeship. No one knows what happened to them. Shadowpaw was loyal, though. He would never abandon his clan. Many of his friends had died, in their honor, he stayed. In honor of his mother, he stayed. He is excited about having reached his twelfth moon. Soon he would earn his warrior name. Other - Shadowpaw considers Warmpaw to be his best friend, even if Warmpaw disagrees. His favorite cats to prank are his mentor, and Warmpaw. He feels they take it well. Name - Warmpaw Gender - Male Age - Eight moons Rank - Medicine cat apprentice Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Warmpaw is smaller than most at his age. Personality - Warmpaw is very down and out. Especially when left by himself. Among peers, he tries to be cheerful, often making jokes no one thinks is funny. He doesn't feel particularly comfortable within his clan, preferring to spend time away from them. The only cat he likes, even a little, is Shadowpaw. Around others, he is timid. Relationships - "Friends" with Shadowpaw History - Warmpaw's history is shrouded in mystery. He just showed up one day when he was four moons old. No one really knows where he came from, and he likes to keep it that way. Warmpaw would tell anyone that asked that he had a very normal kithood. Only kit to a mother and father who died to greencough in Leaf-bare. In reality, Warmpaw had a brother and sister, Firekit and Sandykit, and he was really from a different clan, one whose name has been forgotten. Warmpaw was barely over three moons when his clan was torn apart by civil war. His mother and father wanted no part of it, so they left. The world was dangerous for three kits, so they found an abandoned fox hole and stayed there for a moon. One foggy morning, Warmpaw convinced his brother and sister to go out and explore the area with him. The three kits snuck out of camp and into the unknown. When their parents realized they were missing, they immediately started searching for them. Eventually, they found the kits near a large borrow and after a proper scolding, ushered the kits back to camp. Before they could be on their way, they heard a deep snarl behind them. Seconds later, a huge dog appeared, snatching up Sandykit. With a deft crunch, she was gone. With a fierceness born of rage, Snowpelt threw herself at the dog, clawing at its eyes. Hooktooth knocked the two remaining kits away and charged after his mate. Warmpaw and his brother ran as fast as they could toward an old tree hollow. As they ran, something flew over their heads and landed in front of them. Warmpaw tripped over himself and slid right into it. It was the mangled body of their mother. The two stood shocked still, gazing at their mother. A howl of victory behind them snapped them back to reality and they took off for the hollow again. They both made it, but the dog was strong and started breaking away the bark that sheltered them. It was at this point, they realized there was more than one dog. Both kits squealed in terror as gnashing teeth appeared before them. They both turned and tried to climb up the back of hollow. One of the dogs was able to grasp Firekit's tail. Warmpaw could only watch in horror as his brother was dragged out screaming. The hole was large enough for him to watch as the helpless kitten was torn to pieces by the dogs. Not far, he could also make out the body of his father, gored and half his face missing. A sharp whistle rang out and the dog stopped before they could turn their sights on Warmpaw himself and they ran off. Having nowhere else to go, Warmpaw remained in that hollow all night. Once the light returned, Warmpaw turned and ran from the territory. After three days of hiding, the scent of food was too much to ignore and he found his way into the Cliffclan camp. Other - Warmpaw has a uniquely keen sense of smell. He won't admit it to anyone, but he considers Shadowpaw a friend. Sort of. Name - Flareheart Gender - Female Age - Fourteen moons Rank - Warrior Clan - Ashclan Appearance - Personality - Flareheart, as her name implies, often experiences bouts of heated emotion. Most common among these is anger. While she has learned to curb this wild feeling, it sometimes goes beyond her control, resulting in debates and the occasional tussle. Aside from this, she is normally docile, showing intense loyalty to her clan mates and a soft love toward the kits. She also has a powerful, often times overwhelming, curiosity. She is afraid of snakes, lizards, and generally all poisonous things. Relationships - Juniperpelt(mother) History - Flareheart is a born and bred cat of the volcano. Ashclan is all she has ever known. Right from the start, you could tell she was going to be a troublemaker. The only kit to a widowed queen, she wanted to know all about everything, much to her mother's dismay. They could often be found arguing over whether she got to go out or not. Her father died before she had been kitted, she was told he went alone against a coyote in the hopes of stemming her curiosity. It did not. As an apprentice, Flareheart was just as wild as she had been as a kit. Except she was actually allowed out of camp. She got into all kinds of trouble. Once she found her love of eating birds, she started to climb trees to get at them. At first, she was just plain awful, coming back from hunting with nothing but bee-lined trips to the medicine den. Over time, she excelled, her determination paving the way to success. Now, as a new warrior, she hopes to put the past behind her and prove she is a warrior worth respecting. Other - High natural prey drive due to breed(shes an ocicat) makes her stay out longer than she usually should looking for food(birds). Name - Yarrowkit Gender - Female Age - six moons Rank - Kit Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Yarrowkit is strong willed and ready to prove herself. She tries her best to live up to her clans views of a warrior, but is looked down on by all. Relationships - sisters- Starkit, Harekit. Brother- Nightkit Mother- Willowfang Father- Oliveclaw Kit crush- Briarthorn History - Yarrowkit is the runt of four kits. Being the last born, her mother named her after yarrow and treated her with nothing but disgust. Her father wanted nothing to do with her. As they got older and more accustomed to clan ways, even her litter mates stopped playing with her. It never kept her from trying her best. This caught the attention of Briarthorn, the clan deputy. He was a bit intimidating, but gentle. Yarrowkit really liked him. She visited him everyday and he would show her tricks to help build her muscles. At least when Jaggedstar wasn't around. She thought Jaggedstar was mean. Briarthorn told the kit, that when she was old enough, he would take her on as his apprentice. Other - Yarrow is the herb used to make cats vomit. Name - Briarthorn Gender - Male Age - 32 moons Rank - Deputy Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - The taskmaster of Lightclan, Briarthorn hands out all orders and commands Jaggedstar desires to be done. He feigns coldness to his clanmates. Even his loyalty to his leader is a façade, his true allegiance lies with his brother, Raggedpelt. He looks upon his clanmates warmly, as opposed to many of the others, but only when Jaggedstar isn't around. Briarthorn is a good mentor and warrior. Relationships - Hawkwing(brother- deceased) Has taken a shine to Yarrowkit, and hopes to prove that even those considered weak could grow into strong warriors, given enough time and encouragement. History - Briarthorn was present during the rebellion started by Raggedpelt. He was taken into confidence, and told to stay out of the fight. If things were to go poorly, someone would need to carry on in their place. When his brother, Hawkwing was slain by Jaggedstar, Briarthorn knew he had to do something to stop his leader. His loyalty was put to question, after Raggedpelt was allowed to leave. He stated that the leaders brother was a traitor and that Jaggedstar had shown incredible restraint in letting him go, whereas he would have ended the tom right there. Briarthorn continued the charade, eventually landing him the rank of deputy. He uses his rank to try and influence the others toward a kinder, more nurturing way. Other - Briarthorn is an infiltrator. A spy. He works behind the scenes to de-throne Jaggedstar and topple the archaic ways of Lightclan. Name - Amberstar Gender - Female Age - 49 moons Rank - Leader Clan - Boulderclan Appearance - This she-cat is huge and towers above most cats. Personality - Amberstar rules Boulderclan with a firm but gentle hand. She welcomes rouges, strays and loners, feeling it makes the clan stronger. She takes all suggestions from her clan and tries her best to accommodate everyone. She is self-conscious about her size. Relationships - No mate, no family. History - As a kit, Amberstar aspired to great things. She was ambitious, and consistently proved herself a valued and talented warrior. It was really no surprise to anyone when she was named deputy. Her strength of character inspired others to be their best. The winter was horrifying. During that time, the former leader died, taking his last life with him. It was a terrible way to ascend to a leadership role, and she had not wanted it to happen that way. Even as she gained her nine lives, several of her clan lost theirs. As the winter ended, Amberstar stood atop the mountains and looked at the world. It was coming into a new spring, and finally her clan would be able to thrive. Other - Name - Stormpaw Gender - Male Age - Eleven moons Rank - Apprentice Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Like all Lightclan members, Stormpaw favors strength. He enjoys a good fight and won't back down from one. He looks down on weak cats, and generally dislikes kits. Even among his own clan, he is cold towards others. Relationships - Mother, father, brother all deceased. History - Perhaps it was the birth of such a cold kit that ended her life. Stormpaw's mother died giving birth to him and his brother, Mosskit. Stormpaw took to the Lightclan philosophy quite well and embraced it while Mosspaw shrunk away from it. It didn't take long for Stormpaw to start antagonizing his brother on his weakness. One night, the two went out. Stormpaw returned soaking wet, but Mosspaw did not. The apprentice stated that his brother fell into the river, and while he did his best to save him, he could not. He showed no remorse or sadness for his brothers death. Other - Name - Granitebite Age - 45 moons Gender - Male Rank - warrior Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Granitebite is a grumpy old tom. He is short with everyone and makes it seem like he has no time for anything. Except his apprentice, if he has one. He likes sunbathing and lazing around. Relationships - Squirrelblossom(mate) History - (Optional) Other - has stiffness in his left back leg. Name - Adderpelt Gender - male Age - 23 moons Rank - Warrior Clan - Boulderclan Appearance - Personality - Incredibly stubborn and not afraid to voice his opinions. He consistently tells other cats that he doesn't need help, but ends up requiring A LOT of help. Likes to play the stud. Relationships - Mother- Coralstep(elder) Father- Hognose(elder) History - (Optional) Other - Name - Leafshade Gender - Female Age - 18 moons Rank - warrior/queen Clan - Oakclan Appearance - Personality - Loving, tender, nurturing. Leafshade is a natural mother. This is coupled by a fierce loyalty to her clan, which she would defend until her dying breath. Relationships - Mudpool(mate) History - (Optional) Other - currently pregnant Name - Appleleap Gender - Female Age - 33 moons Rank - warrior Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - Appleleap takes clan business very seriously and almost always has her nose in everyone's dish. She is kind, but lacks an understanding of MYOB. Often, she has good advice, and enjoys teaching younger cats. Relationships - none or unknown. History - (Optional) Other - Former kittypet. Has a scar on her right front paw.

Berrydream d'OakClan Interactions: Vineshine Le chat-She-cat a dérapé à l'arrêt de courir légèrement sauvage sur le territoire quand un autre chat-she-cat a bloqué son chemin. Panting Berrydream regarda Vineshine puis autour avant de se concentrer à nouveau sur l'autre She-cat. "Oh... Le chat de médecine voulait que Featherwhisker vende des chatons... Je veux trouver Featherwhisker dès que possible." Elle a dit comme ils étaient un peu dans le travail maintenant et pas dans un certain temps, ce qui signifie qu'elle a été un peu stressée à ce sujet pour de très bonnes raisons. Elle a ensuite passé devant l'autre She-cat avant de pouvoir répondre comme elle devait obtenir Featherwhisker ou c'était la fin du monde!... Probablement pas, mais elle se sentait vraiment responsable de cette tâche, car elle lui avait été donnée par tout le monde. "Featherwhisker!......" Elle a appelé alors qu'elle s'enfuyait à nouveau pour chercher le chat... La vie d'un adjoint ne serait probablement pas si complexe si Berrydream n'en faisait pas autant... oh bien.

Name - Sootleaf age - 96 moons (She's an old gal) Gender - She-cat Rank - Medicine Cat Clan - Ashclan Appearance - she is also a large cat, about the size of a maine coon. Personality - Sootleaf tends to be cold towards others and she looks down on injuries that were caused by stupidity. She gives few her friendship, but to those she does she is quite protective and caring. She has a soft spots towards kits due to the loss of her own. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Mate and kits (Deceased) History - Sootleaf was raised to be a medicine cat and had herself a mate, Darkwind, who was a warrior. She had two kits with him, Lavakit and Mistkit. Sadly, disease caught her kits, one she didn't know of back then, and her mate passed in a fight. Other - Name - Moonkit Age - 3 moons Gender - She-cat Rank - Kit Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - Moonkit is very playful and loves to follow others around. Her favorite thing to do is to sneak up on apprentices and scare them. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Deceased mother and siblings (Childbirth) History - Moonkit was born to Brightsun, but sadly her mother passed in the birthing process. Moonkit was born blind in one eye and her back left foot is clubbed. Despite this, Moonkit gets around quite well and thinks nothing of her disabilities. Other - Partially blind (Right eye) and clubbed foot (Back left)

Oakclan - Vinéshine Le chat blanc et gris a repéré son chemin vers le camp, tenant deux souris entre ses mâchoires. Alors qu'elle entrait dans l'entrée, elle a failli marcher sur la queue de Foxtrot, mais a réussi à s'en occuper. Elle regarda le tom rouge, petit embrasé, mais n'arrêta pas de marcher ou de dire quoi que ce soit. Déposer les souris sur la nouvelle pile de bile qu'elle soupirait en regardant le camp, elle a remarqué que l'adjoint du clan Berrydream agissait bizarrement. "Hoy Hoy! Calme-toi, qu'est-ce qui ne va pas?" Elle s'est débrouillée en fermant le chemin, pour pouvoir arrêter de marcher et lui dire ce qui se passait là-bas. Boulderclan - Aspenclaw Ashclan - Cloverlight - Ses kits Cliffclan - Reedheart/star - Tundraclaw - Givre glacé Reedheart marcha vers la pile fraîche de kile, prit un moineau là-bas et commença à la manger. Alors qu'elle le mangeait, elle regardait le camp et c'était des chats avec toi. Bientôt elle avait besoin de commencer son journal à la piscine de lune, mais avant cela elle avait besoin de quelqu'un qui pouvait prendre soin du clan le temps où elle serait partie. En prenant sa dernière morsure, elle léchait les lèvres et soupirait "Il est temps..." elle se moquait tranquillement de marcher vers les guérisseurs den "Sundapple? Vous êtes là?" Elle a piqué sa tête dans la tanière. Tundraclan regarda Spottedblossom se sentir embrasé et stupide. Il a été silencieux un moment avant de se tourner vers le Shadowpaw qui a aussi son apprenti "Hm! Peut-être que tu l'as fait... mais tu ne l'as pas attrapé pour la tienne, n'est-ce pas?" Il a assoupi les petits taureaux, mais pas sérieusement. Il arbore sa fourrure, faisant un sourire stupide comme s'il venait de gagner une bataille. Lightclan - Cedarsky (MC) - Rainfang Quand la réunion était terminée, Rainfang marchait vers le Briarthorn et Nightpaw "Bien félicitations pour votre nouvel apprenti, mon ami" il se moquait de faire de la petite purée alors qu'il s'arrêtait à côté de l'adjoint. Notant que l'adjoint n'a pas l'air heureux à ce sujet, il a regardé à Yarrowpaw "Oh je vois... vous vouliez vraiment qu'elle... est-ce que vous?" Il a dit tranquillement. Cedarsky regarda la cérémonie à côté de sa tanière. Soupirant qu'il n'aimait pas vraiment Briarthorn, il y avait quelque chose qui le rendait nerveux. Pensé tant qu'il ne fait rien de mal, il ne peut regarder que dans l'ombre et se taire sur ses pensées. Secouant sa peau, il soupirait à nouveau, il espérait vraiment qu'il pourrait y avoir assez de kits ou d'apprentis, il vieillissait et avait besoin de son propre apprenti pour être enseigné.

Name - Reedheart (Reedstar) I'm little unsure could I make her a leader or not :/ Gender - She-cat Rank - Deputy Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - Reedheart is gentle cat, not one to raise her voice unless its needed, and will listen to a kit as easely as a warrior. She takes her job very seriously,meaning she want let others down if she can help it. She also smart,brave and sweet toward others. Reedheart loves kittens very much and would do anything for them. As a leader she will probably be a little soft to be leading a clan, but she tries to do her best. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Sister: Icefrost, Brother: Tundraclaw (Will make them later) History - (Optional) Other - Name - Icefrost Gender - She-cat Rank - Warrior Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - She is little lazy, stubborn, harsh, cold-hearted and is unforgiving, but she have her kind, sweet side too. Unlike her siblings she is not that loyal and can break rules, but only if her clanmates don't suffer from it. She is nice toward the cats she likes, but she is little naive and can be easely fooled. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Sister: Reedheart/star, Brother: Tundraclaw, Mate (former): Rainfang (currently a warrior of Lightclan) History - (Optional) Other - Name - Tundraclaw Gender - Tom Rank - Warrior Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - He is very hard-working, loyal to his clan, kind and lovely to the ones he likes/ trust, he is very protestive. He can be very mean sometimes excpecially cats he don't like, he don't hate anyone, but if he can't accept you will know it. He is little flirty toward she-cats and is seriously looking for a mate. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Sisters: Reedheart/star, Icefrost, Crush: Spottedblossom History - (Optional) Other - Name - Rainfang Gender - Tom Rank - Warrior Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Parents: for Cliffclan, siblings: open, mate(Former): Icefrost/ open, Crush: Looking.... History - He is born and raised for Cliffclan, with his siblings. He fall for his clanmate Icepaw/frost and when warrior they become a mates, even thought he didn't get along with her siblings Reedheart or Tundraclaw. For a time he was a loyal to his clan, never ever thinked to leave, but it chanced when he meets a lightclan cats and eventual get friends with them. He enjoyed more and more with them, listening the live for Lightclan his faith for Cliffclan chanced, unlike lightclan, Cliffclan was weak and he wanted more. He leaved the Cliffclan when get a big argument with his mate Icefrost and he didn't agree that Reedheart was choised to be deputy. Other - Name - Cloverlight Gender - She-cat Rank - Queen Clan - Ashclan Appearance - Personality - She is brave, a little too brave at times, ferociously loyal, and full of curiosity. She is slightly short-tempered, and can spit out words that she regrets later. Her heart was always in the right place. Her bravery can sometimes get her into huge trouble, and one time almost killed. Cloverlight is still overly brave, courageous, curious, feisty, and spunky. However, she is now trying to focus on her litters and be a mother Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Mate: open / Kits: Cherrykit, Pigeonkit, Snowkit, Hollowkit Kits appearance: He is born as a sterile and will never have kits He will lost his sight, little By little She will become a rule/code breaker, probably History - (Optional) Other - She would want a mate and a father for her kits Name - Cedarsky Gender - Tom Rank - Medician cat Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Stubborn and hard-headed, He is not a cat who can be told what to do by just anymore; he has to respect you. And that respect must be earned, just because someone has a title does not mean they are worthy of his loyalty. She's fairly quick to snark and make quick judgment on others and their decisions, but at the end of the day Cedarsky's smart enough to stop and reprimand himself for his quick temper and will often either apologize or take back of words when he's fully thought them out. He does not mean to be a cranky pain-in-the-rump, and he does know his temper. He is loyal to his leader and clan, but really don't like Briarthorn. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Parents: Unknown History - He is not clan born, his mother was a loner, young she cat which died when giving birth her first litter. He did have a four siblings but when Lightclan patrol found them he was the only one who was still alive. Other - He is 60 moons old, and one of the oldest cats. Name - Vineshine Gender - She-cat Rank - Warrior Clan - Oakclan Appearance - Personality - Kind, protestive, caring, very loving and gentle talking she-cat, thought she is little shy and don't easely start anything. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Brother: Tigersky, crush/ mate: Foxtrot/ Wants History - She and Tigersky are born as a rogue, they're never knowed about their father. Other - Name - Aspenclaw Gender - Tom Rank - Senior warrior Clan - Warrior Appearance - Personality - Grumpy, small talking, lonely, little sarcastic and cold, but he do love kits. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Death, crush/ mate: No/ he did have Marble named she-cat, but she is long dead. History - He is lived as a loner almost all his live, but when meeting Marble his lonely life chanced. Other -

- Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Monoon - Mono- La lumière s'est portée encore une fois alors que Monsoon rampait dans la brousse qu'il trouvait refuge pour la nuit. "Jour et nuit, l'eau et le feu, la lumière et l'obscurité, l'un ne peut pas exister sans l'autre..." il a pris un moment pour rassembler ses pensées. "Rien de tel que des mots sages pour garder l'âme en vie." Monsoon s'est dit. Il est parti la dernière fois qu'il a vérifié qu'il était près de Cliffclan, mais d'habitude il ne va pas à l'intérieur juste rester autour de l'extérieur. Il était à la chasse à la nourriture et n'a pas besoin de beaucoup pour continuer. Il a vérifié sa tache habituelle pour chasser dans le territoire de Cliffclan, et a trouvé deux proies qu'il a mangées et senti plus de son retour d'énergie. Après avoir mangé, il a remercié Starclan pour cette prise aujourd'hui et a continué son chemin peut-être en espérant trouver quelque chose d'intéressant aujourd'hui.

Here's my CS hopefully it looks good. Name - Monsoon Gender - Tom Rank - Loner Clan - Roams around from clan territory, but could probably join Cliffclan if he wanted to. Appearance - Personality - Monsoon is the type of cat who is generally calm and tries to keep cool in intense situations. He is wise and tries to pass on his wisdom to others mostly when a fight is about to happen. He isn't rash, he takes time to think things through, honors his word, and stays true to his friends. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - He likes to think that he is friends to all since he is neutral. History - Only Monsoon knows what lies behind him no one else not even his closets friend. Other - He basically has inner peace and just goes around finding disputes to stop or maybe sit back and see how it ends.

Amberstar Amberstar regardait ses camarades de clan. Elle pouvait voir l'attente de Brimpelt, le regard d'Aspenclaw, et la curiosité d'Adderpelt. Cependant, c'était Riversong qu'elle regardait. Elle semblait... soulagée. Amberstar sourit et regarda loin, marchant pour rencontrer ses compagnons de chats. "Je sais que vous vous êtes tous inquiétés de mon choix d'adjoint, d'autant plus que nous avons perdu notre leader et notre chat de médecine du froid il y a quelques lunes." Elle s'est arrêtée et a regardé autour, tout le monde la regardait. "Riversong a été choisi par Starclan pour devenir député." Flareheart Flareheart roula les yeux et se tourna pour sortir du camp. A qui pensait-il qu'il avait affaire? Elle n'est jamais revenue à moins d'avoir attrapé quelque chose. "Allons, Icefire, ça devient un peu étouffant ici." Le chat-elle est sorti de la grotte et a regardé comme la scène avant elle. Il n'y avait rien de plus beau que le soleil qui montait sur la vallée. Elle s'est assise et a soigné sa fourrure pendant qu'elle attendait Icefire. Magmastar pouvait la menacer autant qu'il le voulait, mais quand c'est fini, il ne pouvait rien leur faire de mal. Icefire avait tout autant le droit d'être à Ashclan que lui. L'idée qu'il envisagerait même de les faire se battre jusqu'à la mort juste pour voir qui pourrait rester a fait sa fourrure soie dans la colère.

Name - Shadowpaw Gender - Male Age - Twelve moons Rank - Warrior apprentice Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Shadowpaw was always large, even as a kit, something he inherited from his mother. He has hard muscles that let him excel in most athletic endeavors and his long fur absorbs impact attacks very well. Personality - Shadowpaw is incredibly stealthy, making it easier for him to pull pranks and scare some of the younger apprentices. He takes delight in teasing those smaller than him(such as Warmpaw), but will ultimately defend them. To the death if need be. His loyalty to his clan stems from his mother. He only wants to make her and his father proud. Ironically, he is afraid of his own shadow as one of his siblings told him that if he wasn't careful, it would eat him. Relationships - Friends with Warmpaw Deceased mother. Father and sibling missing. History - It was a great surprise to everyone when one of the queens gave birth to a male calico. An even greater surprise when he survived. Despite being born second, he was unusually large, towering over his older brother. This caused a rift between the kits. While his brother, Silentkit stuck with their father... From the moment he was born, Shadowpaw was a mama's boy. He always did what he was told and followed her words strictly. She was always the first cat he greeted in the morning, followed by his father. As a kit, he always told her that he would protect her, the other queens and their kits if the camp was attacked, much to his mothers displeasure. He never got the chance. No one expected such a hard Leaf-bare. When his mother died, his father couldn't bare the thought of life without her and he disappeared, taking his brother with him just as the two had reached their apprenticeship. No one knows what happened to them. Shadowpaw was loyal, though. He would never abandon his clan. Many of his friends had died, in their honor, he stayed. In honor of his mother, he stayed. He is excited about having reached his twelfth moon. Soon he would earn his warrior name. Other - Shadowpaw considers Warmpaw to be his best friend, even if Warmpaw disagrees. His favorite cats to prank are his mentor, and Warmpaw. He feels they take it well. Name - Warmpaw Gender - Male Age - Eight moons Rank - Medicine cat apprentice Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Warmpaw is smaller than most at his age. Personality - Warmpaw is very down and out. Especially when left by himself. Among peers, he tries to be cheerful, often making jokes no one thinks is funny. He doesn't feel particularly comfortable within his clan, preferring to spend time away from them. The only cat he likes, even a little, is Shadowpaw. Around others, he is timid. Relationships - "Friends" with Shadowpaw History - Warmpaw's history is shrouded in mystery. He just showed up one day when he was four moons old. No one really knows where he came from, and he likes to keep it that way. Warmpaw would tell anyone that asked that he had a very normal kithood. Only kit to a mother and father who died to greencough in Leaf-bare. In reality, Warmpaw had a brother and sister, Firekit and Sandykit, and he was really from a different clan, one whose name has been forgotten. Warmpaw was barely over three moons when his clan was torn apart by civil war. His mother and father wanted no part of it, so they left. The world was dangerous for three kits, so they found an abandoned fox hole and stayed there for a moon. One foggy morning, Warmpaw convinced his brother and sister to go out and explore the area with him. The three kits snuck out of camp and into the unknown. When their parents realized they were missing, they immediately started searching for them. Eventually, they found the kits near a large borrow and after a proper scolding, ushered the kits back to camp. Before they could be on their way, they heard a deep snarl behind them. Seconds later, a huge dog appeared, snatching up Sandykit. With a deft crunch, she was gone. With a fierceness born of rage, Snowpelt threw herself at the dog, clawing at its eyes. Hooktooth knocked the two remaining kits away and charged after his mate. Warmpaw and his brother ran as fast as they could toward an old tree hollow. As they ran, something flew over their heads and landed in front of them. Warmpaw tripped over himself and slid right into it. It was the mangled body of their mother. The two stood shocked still, gazing at their mother. A howl of victory behind them snapped them back to reality and they took off for the hollow again. They both made it, but the dog was strong and started breaking away the bark that sheltered them. It was at this point, they realized there was more than one dog. Both kits squealed in terror as gnashing teeth appeared before them. They both turned and tried to climb up the back of hollow. One of the dogs was able to grasp Firekit's tail. Warmpaw could only watch in horror as his brother was dragged out screaming. The hole was large enough for him to watch as the helpless kitten was torn to pieces by the dogs. Not far, he could also make out the body of his father, gored and half his face missing. A sharp whistle rang out and the dog stopped before they could turn their sights on Warmpaw himself and they ran off. Having nowhere else to go, Warmpaw remained in that hollow all night. Once the light returned, Warmpaw turned and ran from the territory. After three days of hiding, the scent of food was too much to ignore and he found his way into the Cliffclan camp. Other - Warmpaw has a uniquely keen sense of smell. He won't admit it to anyone, but he considers Shadowpaw a friend. Sort of. Name - Flareheart Gender - Female Age - Fourteen moons Rank - Warrior Clan - Ashclan Appearance - Personality - Flareheart, as her name implies, often experiences bouts of heated emotion. Most common among these is anger. While she has learned to curb this wild feeling, it sometimes goes beyond her control, resulting in debates and the occasional tussle. Aside from this, she is normally docile, showing intense loyalty to her clan mates and a soft love toward the kits. She also has a powerful, often times overwhelming, curiosity. She is afraid of snakes, lizards, and generally all poisonous things. Relationships - Juniperpelt(mother) History - Flareheart is a born and bred cat of the volcano. Ashclan is all she has ever known. Right from the start, you could tell she was going to be a troublemaker. The only kit to a widowed queen, she wanted to know all about everything, much to her mother's dismay. They could often be found arguing over whether she got to go out or not. Her father died before she had been kitted, she was told he went alone against a coyote in the hopes of stemming her curiosity. It did not. As an apprentice, Flareheart was just as wild as she had been as a kit. Except she was actually allowed out of camp. She got into all kinds of trouble. Once she found her love of eating birds, she started to climb trees to get at them. At first, she was just plain awful, coming back from hunting with nothing but bee-lined trips to the medicine den. Over time, she excelled, her determination paving the way to success. Now, as a new warrior, she hopes to put the past behind her and prove she is a warrior worth respecting. Other - High natural prey drive due to breed(shes an ocicat) makes her stay out longer than she usually should looking for food(birds). Name - Yarrowkit Gender - Female Age - six moons Rank - Kit Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Yarrowkit is strong willed and ready to prove herself. She tries her best to live up to her clans views of a warrior, but is looked down on by all. Relationships - sisters- Starkit, Harekit. Brother- Nightkit Mother- Willowfang Father- Oliveclaw Kit crush- Briarthorn History - Yarrowkit is the runt of four kits. Being the last born, her mother named her after yarrow and treated her with nothing but disgust. Her father wanted nothing to do with her. As they got older and more accustomed to clan ways, even her litter mates stopped playing with her. It never kept her from trying her best. This caught the attention of Briarthorn, the clan deputy. He was a bit intimidating, but gentle. Yarrowkit really liked him. She visited him everyday and he would show her tricks to help build her muscles. At least when Jaggedstar wasn't around. She thought Jaggedstar was mean. Briarthorn told the kit, that when she was old enough, he would take her on as his apprentice. Other - Yarrow is the herb used to make cats vomit. Name - Briarthorn Gender - Male Age - 32 moons Rank - Deputy Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - The taskmaster of Lightclan, Briarthorn hands out all orders and commands Jaggedstar desires to be done. He feigns coldness to his clanmates. Even his loyalty to his leader is a façade, his true allegiance lies with his brother, Raggedpelt. He looks upon his clanmates warmly, as opposed to many of the others, but only when Jaggedstar isn't around. Briarthorn is a good mentor and warrior. Relationships - Hawkwing(brother- deceased) Has taken a shine to Yarrowkit, and hopes to prove that even those considered weak could grow into strong warriors, given enough time and encouragement. History - Briarthorn was present during the rebellion started by Raggedpelt. He was taken into confidence, and told to stay out of the fight. If things were to go poorly, someone would need to carry on in their place. When his brother, Hawkwing was slain by Jaggedstar, Briarthorn knew he had to do something to stop his leader. His loyalty was put to question, after Raggedpelt was allowed to leave. He stated that the leaders brother was a traitor and that Jaggedstar had shown incredible restraint in letting him go, whereas he would have ended the tom right there. Briarthorn continued the charade, eventually landing him the rank of deputy. He uses his rank to try and influence the others toward a kinder, more nurturing way. Other - Briarthorn is an infiltrator. A spy. He works behind the scenes to de-throne Jaggedstar and topple the archaic ways of Lightclan. Name - Amberstar Gender - Female Age - 49 moons Rank - Leader Clan - Boulderclan Appearance - This she-cat is huge and towers above most cats. Personality - Amberstar rules Boulderclan with a firm but gentle hand. She welcomes rouges, strays and loners, feeling it makes the clan stronger. She takes all suggestions from her clan and tries her best to accommodate everyone. She is self-conscious about her size. Relationships - No mate, no family. History - As a kit, Amberstar aspired to great things. She was ambitious, and consistently proved herself a valued and talented warrior. It was really no surprise to anyone when she was named deputy. Her strength of character inspired others to be their best. The winter was horrifying. During that time, the former leader died, taking his last life with him. It was a terrible way to ascend to a leadership role, and she had not wanted it to happen that way. Even as she gained her nine lives, several of her clan lost theirs. As the winter ended, Amberstar stood atop the mountains and looked at the world. It was coming into a new spring, and finally her clan would be able to thrive. Other - Name - Stormpaw Gender - Male Age - Eleven moons Rank - Apprentice Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Like all Lightclan members, Stormpaw favors strength. He enjoys a good fight and won't back down from one. He looks down on weak cats, and generally dislikes kits. Even among his own clan, he is cold towards others. Relationships - Mother, father, brother all deceased. History - Perhaps it was the birth of such a cold kit that ended her life. Stormpaw's mother died giving birth to him and his brother, Mosskit. Stormpaw took to the Lightclan philosophy quite well and embraced it while Mosspaw shrunk away from it. It didn't take long for Stormpaw to start antagonizing his brother on his weakness. One night, the two went out. Stormpaw returned soaking wet, but Mosspaw did not. The apprentice stated that his brother fell into the river, and while he did his best to save him, he could not. He showed no remorse or sadness for his brothers death. Other - Name - Granitebite Age - 45 moons Gender - Male Rank - warrior Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Granitebite is a grumpy old tom. He is short with everyone and makes it seem like he has no time for anything. Except his apprentice, if he has one. He likes sunbathing and lazing around. Relationships - Squirrelblossom(mate) History - (Optional) Other - has stiffness in his left back leg. Name - Adderpelt Gender - male Age - 23 moons Rank - Warrior Clan - Boulderclan Appearance - Personality - Incredibly stubborn and not afraid to voice his opinions. He consistently tells other cats that he doesn't need help, but ends up requiring A LOT of help. Likes to play the stud. Relationships - Mother- Coralstep(elder) Father- Hognose(elder) History - (Optional) Other - Name - Leafshade Gender - Female Age - 18 moons Rank - warrior/queen Clan - Oakclan Appearance - Personality - Loving, tender, nurturing. Leafshade is a natural mother. This is coupled by a fierce loyalty to her clan, which she would defend until her dying breath. Relationships - Mudpool(mate) History - (Optional) Other - currently pregnant Name - Appleleap Gender - Female Age - 33 moons Rank - warrior Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - Appleleap takes clan business very seriously and almost always has her nose in everyone's dish. She is kind, but lacks an understanding of MYOB. Often, she has good advice, and enjoys teaching younger cats. Relationships - none or unknown. History - (Optional) Other - Former kittypet. Has a scar on her right front paw.

CliffClan La reine secoua le sentiment que des pattes poussaient contre son côté, la litière de kits se déplaçant dans leur sommeil, rampant les uns sur les autres à la recherche de la chaleur. Le matin de la nouvelle feuille était froid, une brise filtrant à travers le lichen au-dessus de l'entrée de la tanière. S'éloignant du lit mou de mousse, ses kits se confondirent au froid soudain, s'explosant pour trouver Spottedblossom. Ils avaient quelques mois maintenant, bien qu'ils dormaient encore comme s'ils n'étaient qu'un jour, surtout si tôt le matin. Se promenant autour du nid, elle s'allonge de nouveau, s'enveloppe autour des quatre kits de sorte qu'elle soit dos à l'entrée et qu'elle les bloque de la brise. Elle devrait mentionner cela à l'un des guerriers pour qu'ils puissent le réparer avant que le temps ne s'aggrave. Elle clignait les yeux doux, reniflant chacun de ses kits pour s'assurer qu'ils n'étaient pas malades, purifiant comme ils poussaient contre elle à nouveau. Le plus grand d'entre eux rampait sur ses camarades de litière, queue dans l'air alors que sa fourrure de gingembre prenait la lumière. "Maman matinale." Il bâillait avant de tomber sur le bord du nid sur le sol de la mousse. La reine des tortues s'est amusée, sachant qu'il ne serait pas si maladroit quand il était plus vieux. Sunkit était tellement comme son père que parfois ça faisait mal de le regarder, mais Spottedblossom savait que Leo serait fier de ses kits, peu importe ce qui s'était passé là-bas. Il avait sauvé toute leur vie au prix de la sienne. Peut-être, étant donné que Starclan était réelle, Spottedblossom pourrait le revoir quand c'était son tour de mourir. AshClan Le guerrier s'assit au centre de leur clairière de cratères, regardant le camp se déplacer tôt le matin. Tail enroulé sur des pattes, des griffes qui fléchissaient et broyaient dans la saleté. Oreilles perchées, pointes grises comme de la suie du volcan. Pas d'odeurs étranges, pas de signe de Lightclan ou Cliffclan, pas de renards, pas même de proies; un bon signe. Bon pour le clan, ils n'avaient pas besoin d'être réveillés si tôt par une patrouille guerrière de Lightclan, mais le bout de la queue des chats était encore agité en prévision. La fourrure blanche, parsemée de noir et de gris comme si elle avait roulé dans la cendre, et les yeux deux nuances vibrantes; toujours troublante pour d'autres chats, même ceux avec lesquels elle vivait maintenant. Le guerrier s'ennuyait, ayant dormi les trois heures dont elle avait besoin, et était le premier éveillé à nouveau. Elle était toujours le premier chat debout le matin, regardant le soleil regarder au-dessus des montagnes loin dans le cratère juste à l'extérieur des tanières principales à l'intérieur de la montagne. Icefire regarda le soleil se lever, attendant impatiemment l'un des guerriers seniors pour se réveiller et l'envoyer sur une patrouille de chasse ou un chèque de pension, juste pour qu'elle ait quelque chose à faire. Assis autour de ne rien faire a toujours alimenté ses sautes d'humeur, les faisant être plus rapides et violents avec le stress de l'ennui. Le feu de glace n'avait pas beaucoup à voir avec les autres guerriers depuis qu'elle est venue dans ce clan, ayant été chassée par la guerre, ils hésitaient toujours à sa loyauté envers Ashclan. Elle est née dans la vie de clan, la vie d'un solitaire ne lui convenait pas et Lightclan avait déchiré sa vie. Elle ne voulait rien avoir à faire avec cette guerre, peu importe combien elle avait envie de sortir et de trouver ceux qu'elle avait l'habitude de s'occuper. Les kits manquants, la patrouille des guerriers morts, le corps disparu. Il n'a jamais été résolu ce qui est arrivé à Warmkit, mais s'il avait réussi à survivre, il aurait déjà rejoint un clan. LightClan Le chef clignait les yeux, écoutant le réveil de son clan, regardant à travers le lichen de sa tanière. Ils étaient toujours en avance, avec le travail à faire. L'inondation du dernier foliaire avait isolé une plus haute perche de rochers avec la rivière, l'ajoutant à leur territoire et faisant un nouveau lieu pour les reines et les anciens au bain de soleil. Il y avait aussi des apprentis à enseigner ici. Sans parler qu'il allait s'en prendre à lui-même. Il se souvient du dernier apprenti qu'il avait eu, avant que Raggedpelt ne l'ait trahi, et pensait à la façon dont le beau guerrier avait grandi pour aller contre Raggedpelt. Même ses frères, son propre apprenti, avaient tourné le dos au traître. Jaggedstar avait vu la cachette ni les cheveux du Tom depuis. En vérité, il a manqué les jours où il a pu s'esparer avec son compagnon de litière et chasser avec lui, confiant tous ses soucis en lui, mais ce n'était plus et Jaggedstar ne ferait jamais confiance à un autre chat comme ça. Les muscles se déchiraient sous la fourrure noire du jet alors qu'il se tenait, les yeux émeraudes aiguisés se levant vers la clairière alors qu'elle poussait son chemin hors de sa tanière. Il avait été le seul à l'intérieur, son compagnon ayant dormi dans la tanière des guerriers la nuit précédente. Ils s'étaient disputés pour qu'il prenne le jeune Yarrowkit comme apprenti, lui rappelant ce qui s'était passé la dernière fois, mais il savait qu'il ne pouvait pas faire confiance à quelqu'un d'autre. Elle était la seule trousse du clan à l'heure actuelle, et le début de leur animation pour la prochaine génération. Il avait besoin d'elle forte pour maintenir le clan en bonne santé, nourri et bien protégé. Il devait l'éloigner de Briarthorn. S'élançant pour trouver le clan éveillé et actif, il n'a jamais épargné un regard pour son adjoint avant de sauter sur la seule branche d'un vieil arbre tombé. Surplombant le clan, il s'assit et les fixa avant de parler. "Les forts se rassemblent sous la pluie tandis que les faibles se cachent dans la peur!" Il a appelé les paroles cérémonieuses pour que le clan l'entende les convoquer pour la réunion ce matin-là. Il a veillé sur eux, haut en haut, faisant autorité et très bien le chef de ce groupe de chats. Selon les normes de Lightclan, il était un chef doux, ayant permis à son frère de vivre comme un exil - la seule miséricorde qu'il n'avait jamais montrée - pas le tyran que le chef avant lui avait été. Jaggedstar allait les conduire à un nouveau niveau de force avant qu'il perde sa vie finale, et les transformer en une force que personne ne contesterait plus jamais. Boulderclan Le guerrier a poussé son chemin hors de la tanière, se réveillant tôt le matin pour commencer à organiser des patrouilles en l'absence de leur adjoint. Amberstar avait besoin de toute l'aide qu'elle pouvait obtenir pendant son voyage à StarFall. Mudheart n'avait pas rêvé, bien que les guerriers du clan lui aient fait confiance pour aller seul, alors personne ne l'avait interrogé. Brimpelt d'autre part ne s'attendait pas à voir le Tom à nouveau. D'autre part, le guerrier vétéran a vu cela comme une occasion de se rapprocher d'Amberstar et d'acquérir de l'influence dans le clan. Secouant sa peau, la raideur de ses muscles et le sommeil de sa tête, le chef voyou se dirigea vers la caverne principale du camp. Il ne s'est pas assis comme d'autres chats quand ils sont sortis, pour manger et se marier avant qu'ils n'entreprennent leurs tâches quotidiennes. Brimpelt rembourré autour de la caverne principale, en vérifiant chaque tunnel pour s'assurer qu'aucun n'était venu ou parti pendant qu'ils dormaient. La veille de nuit serait bientôt de retour, prête à dormir jusqu'au lever du soleil après avoir regardé le camp jusqu'à maintenant. "La garde est finie." Le Tom a appelé le tunnel principal dans la montagne, rappelant la montre au cas où ils n'auraient pas vu l'heure qu'il était. Avant qu'Amberstar n'ait choisi son adjoint après son ascension, dans les jours où elle était allée à StarFall, Brimpelt avait installé le système, s'assurant qu'il n'arriverait rien au camp alors qu'ils étaient sans chef et n'avaient pas d'adjoint. Chêne La grande boule de fourrure blanche se frottait, se brossant contre le mur de la tanière tandis que les yeux bleus clignaient. Le corps s'est attaché étiré, tirant la raideur de ses muscles avant de sortir de la petite tanière, en suivant le tunnel vers le stockage sec. Le terrier sous le chêne s'abritait et le stockage des herbes qu'elle gardait près d'elle. Le Cat Médicament n'avait pas rêvé hier soir, pas même de souris traquantes, et n'avait pas dormi assez longtemps non plus. Elle a tourné le coin et est venue face à face avec la roche qu'elle avait l'habitude de garder l'humidité hors de l'entrepôt. Elle l'a mis de côté avec une épaule, marchant doucement l'a passé pour s'assurer que rien n'avait disparu. Les premiers comptes rendraient plus facile de savoir ce qu'elle avait besoin de rassembler aujourd'hui. Frostwhisker bâillait, encore fatiguée, mais pas confiante dans sa capacité de fonctionner aussi tôt le matin. Le groupe de chats ne s'était réuni qu'il y a une saison, et certains ne se faisaient toujours pas confiance. C'était un moment crucial pour le clan, et Oakstar avait besoin du soutien de son chat de médecine, le seul autre dans le clan à avoir eu plusieurs visions et rêves de Starclan. C'était dur, mais elle savait qu'elle pouvait s'en occuper si c'était pour l'amélioration des chats autour. Elle se sentait comme si le clan était là où elle était censée appartenir tout le temps. Qui sait ce qui se serait passé s'ils n'avaient jamais rêvé avec Starclan.

Name Spottedblossom Gender She-cat Rank Queen Clan Cliffclan Personality Spottedblossom is soft-spoken and quiet, often hesitant to speak her mind around strangers. She isn't shy exactly, just careful and polite, respectful of others opinions. In truth, she's a little bit of a push over and doesn't like to burden others even though she isn't capable of defending herself and her kits right now. Relationships Kits (four) | History Spottedblossom used to be a stray cat in a small town not far from the valley, living peacefully with most of the cats there since they all looked out for each other. That was up until another, larger and meaner cat started collecting the scummiest of the cats he could and driving out - or killing - the calm cats of town. They took the hunting places familiar to them, killed anyone who got in there way and went as far as killing and eating a pair of twolegs who had come to Spottedblossom's rescue. The she-cat managed to get away, at the risk of her mate's life, and found the valley with a friend who had avoided clan territory to find a place to stay. Spottedblossom, who was heavily pregnant at the time, needed to find a place safe for her to kit, but there was nowhere outside of clan territory. She took the risk and is glad to this day she did. She found an old rabbit hole, long abandoned and kitted there, alone until another cat came to her. The she-cat ended up breaking his hip kitting in such dangerous conditions, but managed to survive with all of her kits healthy and safe. She woke up with two cats pressed to her sides, keeping herself and the kits warm, and a rabbit ready for her to eat. When she was safe to travel she was welcomed into the clan, and wants to do her part to provide. Other Cannot fight properly because of the old injury | Intends to either stay a Queen, or help the Medicine Cat when she doesn't have kits Duskkit, Sunkit, Dapplekit, Palekit COLOR CODE Name Frostwhisker Gender She-cat Rank Medicine Cat Clan Oakclan Personality Frostwhisker is a friendly and motherly cat, caring and without boundaries when it comes to cats in need. She dislikes suffering and will willingly step into the middle of a fight if she must to make it stop. Overprotective and quite outspoken when she's truly passionate about something, she is also a motivated leader. Relationships Oakstar - mates | Kits - Featherwhisker; Lillystep; Firelight; | Littermates - has two, make one if you want | History Frostwhisker was born to a healthy housecat who had recently run aware from her Two-legs to live in the wild with her mate. Her and her two littermates grew up learning how to hunt and fight for themselves not far from the valley that now houses the two clans. She was always close to her littermates, and the three of them eventually wandered off on their own, though they came back to where they knew their parents would be when she was going to kit for the first time. She began having her dreams in the hard winter when her family group was having a hard time surviving. That was when she knew she needed to gather more cats together. Other Is deaf on the left side | Currently pregnant with her second litter | Plans to cultivate herbs that grow near camp COLOR CODE Name Brimpelt Gender Tom Rank Veteran Warrior Clan Boulderclan Personality Tough and stubborn, Brimpelt has high expectations of his warriors and apprentices. As a hard headed, and bristle pelted individual he's not the type to trust others with much more than meaningless tasks unless they've proven themselves. He dislikes weakness in all it's forms - including kittypet roots. It takes a long time for him to warm up to anybody and often refuses to admit it, but he does act slightly different when he's with those he's comfortable with. Relationships - best friend and closest confident | Flower - mate (formerly; now deceased) History Brimpelt - formerly known as Brimm - was once the leader of a small band of rogues. These rogues were never fond of weakness, including kittypets and Two-legs, and never accepted handouts. The group had once been known as the most notorious in the valley and none of them shied away from spilling weakling blood. This band of rogues is what became much of Boulderclans main fighting force after the formation of, though some moved off to better hunting grounds over the mountains. Brim himself had grown alone in the mountains, becoming a cruel and ruthless leader. Some say that love changes you, and when the tom met Flower he did change, but he did not become the kind cat others would hope for. He was more tolerant, but a charismatic leader. Flower died fighting against the formation of the clans, convinced they should be able to make their own if they must, but her death brought him to his knees long enough to begin his plot. Complete take over and elimination of Boulderclan before he and his followers would move on. Other COLOR CODE Name Jaggedstar Gender Tom Rank Leader Clan Lightclan Personality This leader is cunning and ruthless, powerful and intimidating. He embodies what it is that Lightclan stands for; strength and order. Those who follow his orders are rewarded, not just with first rights to food, but status and patrols of their own. He is, of course, careful to maintain his own power over them. Much of his own clan either fears him, or idolizes him. He is a leader, but not a kind one. The weak he will root out and cast away in shame, not giving them the glory of a death by combat. Relationships (insert name) - mate and confident | Raggedpelt - litter mate History As a kit, Jaggedstar had been named Blackkit by his mother, and his brother Skykit, had been the only two of their litter to survive being birthed. Their mother had died when they were apprentices, in a nasty fight with a dog, in which she was protecting the two of them. Their leader called it a humiliation to them, but Skykit knew it was a kindness. Blackkit on the other hand felt nothing about his mothers sacrifice. This, you could say, was the defining moment for the two apprentices. They learned, trained every day. They fought off a dog together, patrolled together. But Blackpaw never felt bad for killing a weaker cat. He didn't think twice about letting the losing warrior bleed out alone for some other cat to find. This brutality wasn't actively seen by his clan, but by the time him and his brother had come close to becoming warriors, Skypaw confronted him on it. Of all cats, his brother had to understand what Lightclan was doing was wrong, right? Wrong. The night that Skypaw went out to hunt with Blackpaw was the night that the two fought, one trying desperately to save his own life while the other tore him apart. They were equally matched. Both found themselves in the Medicine Cat Den two days later, having slept or didn't remember the entire time. The two were cheered for their feriosity, their determination and neither said a thing about what really happened out there. Jaggedscar and Raggedpelt, scarred only by one another. Quickly they rose in the ranks, one naturally while the other wanted to reform the clan by becoming leader. Jaggedstar won in the end, keeping his brother as one of his most trusted warriors; until his betrayal. Raggedpelt spoke out against him, turned several cats against the clans values and that was the one thing that Jaggedstar could not stand. He, personally, fought several of the warriors defending Raggedpelt, and won, just to get to his brother. His claws pricked his brothers throat, the brown tom looking up at him with sky blue eyes. "Get out. Show your face on clan territory again and I'll kill you myself." Other Has a twisted scar running down his left side | | Name Featherwhisker Gender She-cat Rank Warrior Clan Oakclan Personality Like her mother, Featherwhisker is willing to protect anyone who needs it though she is not as gentle and caring as the medicine cat. She is rebellious in nature, though through nurture she has developed a deep respect for those who have proven themselves to her. She is passionate and speaks out when she feels something needs to be said - even against orders of silence. She does not care for the public opinion if it isn't right and unafraid to be who she is around other cats. Rarely will she instigate a fight, but she is not afraid to finish it if she must. Relationships Frostwhisker & Oakstar - parents | Lillypelt & Firelight - littermates | History Featherwhisker and her littermates were born before the winter that drove them to near starvation, long enough for her to have learned how to hunt and fight but she knew she wouldn't live long in that winter. She was granted her warrior name by her mother not long after the clans had formed, taking it with pride as she found a new purpose to her life. Other COLOR CODE Name Foxtrot Gender Tom Rank Warrior Clan Oakclan Personality Foxtrot is a joking individual who enjoys having fun and is always the first to attempt to lighten a rather serious atmosphere with a really bad joke. Pranks were never his specialty, but humor was always right up his alley. It isn't certain whether or not the tom is capable of any real seriousness with his fun-loving and carefree nature. He's also rather oblivious to affection, and others feelings towards his joking manor - that or he doesn't care enough to care. Who knows? Relationships N/A as of yet History Before becoming part of Oakclan, Foxtrot was the outside cat of a twoleg home down the thunderpath. He was a stray before that, and rarely slept inside of the house, so the couple had never gone looking for him as far as he could tell. One day he walked too far and ended up getting hit by a small monster. Luck for him, Frostwhisker and Featherwhisker had been nearby and heard him calling for help. He was taken into the clan and pledged to repay the two she-cats for what they did for him that day. Other Has a long scar down right rear leg | Back legs get stiff on damp days COLOUR CODE Name Riversong Gender She-cat Rank Warrior - Queen Clan Boulderclan Personality Riversong is far from the gentle and caring mother that most would expect from a pregnant queen. Instead she is assertive and scolding, protective and perfectly willing to jump into a fight if she need be. She despises idiocy and encourages bravery - even though the traits may well be one in the same. Relationships - mate | History Before the arrival of the clans, Riversong had been part of a group of loners who frequented the mountains. She was unaware of the formation of the clans until they came to recruit or disband the group of loners, seeing as she was already pregnant at the time, her mate and her joined the clan. Other COLOR CODE Name Icefire Gender She-cat Clan Ashclan Rank Warrior Personality Icefire is much like her name hints, she is an ever changing constant. She's not moody, though she isn't stable in emotional endevours. At times she is plagued by self doubt, often causing her to stop eating, and on other days she's as bright as newleaf sunshine. Her mood changed at the turn of a rabbits foot, constant in few things. The she-cat is loyal to her clan, though not to the cats within it. She's not one to keep secrets from the deputy and leader if there is a chance it could endanger the rest of the clan. She'll allow those capable to protect themselves without worry, and never frets about something she shouldn't. Relationships History This she-cat was born outside of Ashclan, hailing from the hills not far from Cliffclan territory. It was a small place, a good clan not far from the other clans that they lived. It was long after she'd become a warrior that the end came to them and she was seperated from the other survivors. She found her way to Ashclan. Name Nightkit Gender Tom Rank Kit Clan Lightclan Personality Nightkit is a quiet and cunning tom, the opposite of his sisters. Calm, cold and closed to the people around him. He's a very effective spy, and a very observative individual. He didn't bond well with his sisters as much as he did with others in the clan. Relationships Littermates - Starkit, Yarrowkit & Harekit | Parents - Willowfang & Oliveclaw | History Other Name Raggedpelt Gender Tom Rank Deputy - Former Clan Lightclan - Former Personality Raggedpelt, once a loyal and determined warrior, friendly and well worded and placed among friends, now knows the pain of loneliness. Solitude has turned this tom into an untrusting and morbid animal. He refuses to follow a strangers word, and longs again for the company of a clan. He is a devoted cat, and cares more for the safety of others then his own life. Now, when seen by strangers he is not friendly in first interaction, instead unsure and hostile. He does not expect the best of cats anymore, only the worst, in his daily battles for survival. Relationships Jaggedstar - litermate History Raggedpelt, formerly Skykit and Skypaw, the littermate of Lightclan's current leader Jaggedstar, was born destined for greatness. He felt the hurt of his mothers death, longed for his brothers company and wondered why the clan itself was so brutally cruel to those who deemed them weak. He worried over it, often thinking keeping him up at night though he was never far from his brothers side. The two were insperable, even the day that Skypaw first spoke to Blackpaw about the clans morals. The fight nearly cost him his life, and his sanity, and the two never spoke of it again as they rose the ranks in the clan. Blackpaw became Jaggedstar, Skypaw to Raggedpelt - declared Deputy by his own brother against the odds. His betrayal and exile was the beginning of his hardships. He left then and there, nothing from the Medicine Cat and leaving his apprentice behind, the cat being passed on to the next warrior. There was nothing he could do much leave clan territory or risk getting even more cats killed. Briartorn had managed not to be caught by Jaggedstar, only to survive in a place where cats should not suffer. Ragedpelt left, finding the abandoned camp of the clan they're former leader had destroyed. That was where he became his exile, sleeping alone in an empty camp. Time began to change him, turn him into something closer to his brother than himself. It was not something he loved. It is not something he enjoys. But at this point in time he needs to think of his own survival. Other Name Sundapple Gender Tom Rank Medicine Cat Clan Cliffclan Personality Relationships History Other

Arbre-feuilles "D'accord, Frostwhisker." L'ombre de feuilles a pris le bâton dans sa bouche et a mordu pendant que le chat médicamenteux pressait dans son estomac. Elle ne savait pas que donner naissance pouvait être si douloureux. Elle a fait ce qu'on lui a dit et a essayé de se détendre et de laisser tout venir naturellement, mais ça ne allait pas si bien. L'ombre aux feuilles, ça allait être une longue journée. Taupe d'ombre Le calico Tom a regardé son mentor quand il a fait son commentaire snide. Bien sûr qu'il n'avait pas attrapé la proie lui-même. Il ne pouvait pas quitter le camp de clan sans un autre guerrier ni la permission de son mentor. Il a rétréci les yeux à Tundraclaw. Même s'il ne le pensait pas, c'était encore un coup bas. Il avait 12 lunes maintenant. Une fois qu'on lui a donné son nom de guerrier et terminé sa vigilance, il serait en mesure de chasser Tundraclaw tout le jour et la nuit. Shadowpaw a dit au revoir à Spottedblossom et aux kits, il n'allait pas laisser Tundraclaw ruiner sa bonne humeur, peut-être Warmpaw serait-il prêt pour un peu de plaisir. En se dirigeant vers la salle des médicaments pour chats, Shadowpaw a remarqué que Reedheart lui collait la tête dans l'ouverture. Une opportunité parfaite. Si quelqu'un l'avait vu, ils auraient cru qu'il n'était pas bon. Ils auraient eu raison, mais personne ne l'a repéré. Il s'est faufilé juste derrière l'adjoint et l'a jetée sur elle tout en sonnant sa signature de « haut rang » yowl. Warmpaw C'était toujours amusant de voir Shadowpaw jusqu'à ses antiques. Le voir sauter l'adjoint a fait sourire Warmpaw. Ce Tom était probablement le seul qui pouvait le faire sourire. C'était l'une des raisons pour lesquelles il voulait garder Shadowpaw en tant qu'ami. Une fois le tussle terminé, il est monté à Reedheart. "Si vous cherchez Sundapple, il est parti plus tôt pour ramasser quelques herbes. Il a dit qu'il serait de retour avant le lever du soleil."

Name - Shadowpaw Gender - Male Age - Twelve moons Rank - Warrior apprentice Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Shadowpaw was always large, even as a kit, something he inherited from his mother. He has hard muscles that let him excel in most athletic endeavors and his long fur absorbs impact attacks very well. Personality - Shadowpaw is incredibly stealthy, making it easier for him to pull pranks and scare some of the younger apprentices. He takes delight in teasing those smaller than him(such as Warmpaw), but will ultimately defend them. To the death if need be. His loyalty to his clan stems from his mother. He only wants to make her and his father proud. Ironically, he is afraid of his own shadow as one of his siblings told him that if he wasn't careful, it would eat him. Relationships - Friends with Warmpaw Deceased mother. Father and sibling missing. History - It was a great surprise to everyone when one of the queens gave birth to a male calico. An even greater surprise when he survived. Despite being born second, he was unusually large, towering over his older brother. This caused a rift between the kits. While his brother, Silentkit stuck with their father... From the moment he was born, Shadowpaw was a mama's boy. He always did what he was told and followed her words strictly. She was always the first cat he greeted in the morning, followed by his father. As a kit, he always told her that he would protect her, the other queens and their kits if the camp was attacked, much to his mothers displeasure. He never got the chance. No one expected such a hard Leaf-bare. When his mother died, his father couldn't bare the thought of life without her and he disappeared, taking his brother with him just as the two had reached their apprenticeship. No one knows what happened to them. Shadowpaw was loyal, though. He would never abandon his clan. Many of his friends had died, in their honor, he stayed. In honor of his mother, he stayed. He is excited about having reached his twelfth moon. Soon he would earn his warrior name. Other - Shadowpaw considers Warmpaw to be his best friend, even if Warmpaw disagrees. His favorite cats to prank are his mentor, and Warmpaw. He feels they take it well. Name - Warmpaw Gender - Male Age - Eight moons Rank - Medicine cat apprentice Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Warmpaw is smaller than most at his age. Personality - Warmpaw is very down and out. Especially when left by himself. Among peers, he tries to be cheerful, often making jokes no one thinks is funny. He doesn't feel particularly comfortable within his clan, preferring to spend time away from them. The only cat he likes, even a little, is Shadowpaw. Around others, he is timid. Relationships - "Friends" with Shadowpaw History - Warmpaw's history is shrouded in mystery. He just showed up one day when he was four moons old. No one really knows where he came from, and he likes to keep it that way. Warmpaw would tell anyone that asked that he had a very normal kithood. Only kit to a mother and father who died to greencough in Leaf-bare. In reality, Warmpaw had a brother and sister, Firekit and Sandykit, and he was really from a different clan, one whose name has been forgotten. Warmpaw was barely over three moons when his clan was torn apart by civil war. His mother and father wanted no part of it, so they left. The world was dangerous for three kits, so they found an abandoned fox hole and stayed there for a moon. One foggy morning, Warmpaw convinced his brother and sister to go out and explore the area with him. The three kits snuck out of camp and into the unknown. When their parents realized they were missing, they immediately started searching for them. Eventually, they found the kits near a large borrow and after a proper scolding, ushered the kits back to camp. Before they could be on their way, they heard a deep snarl behind them. Seconds later, a huge dog appeared, snatching up Sandykit. With a deft crunch, she was gone. With a fierceness born of rage, Snowpelt threw herself at the dog, clawing at its eyes. Hooktooth knocked the two remaining kits away and charged after his mate. Warmpaw and his brother ran as fast as they could toward an old tree hollow. As they ran, something flew over their heads and landed in front of them. Warmpaw tripped over himself and slid right into it. It was the mangled body of their mother. The two stood shocked still, gazing at their mother. A howl of victory behind them snapped them back to reality and they took off for the hollow again. They both made it, but the dog was strong and started breaking away the bark that sheltered them. It was at this point, they realized there was more than one dog. Both kits squealed in terror as gnashing teeth appeared before them. They both turned and tried to climb up the back of hollow. One of the dogs was able to grasp Firekit's tail. Warmpaw could only watch in horror as his brother was dragged out screaming. The hole was large enough for him to watch as the helpless kitten was torn to pieces by the dogs. Not far, he could also make out the body of his father, gored and half his face missing. A sharp whistle rang out and the dog stopped before they could turn their sights on Warmpaw himself and they ran off. Having nowhere else to go, Warmpaw remained in that hollow all night. Once the light returned, Warmpaw turned and ran from the territory. After three days of hiding, the scent of food was too much to ignore and he found his way into the Cliffclan camp. Other - Warmpaw has a uniquely keen sense of smell. He won't admit it to anyone, but he considers Shadowpaw a friend. Sort of. Name - Flareheart Gender - Female Age - Fourteen moons Rank - Warrior Clan - Ashclan Appearance - Personality - Flareheart, as her name implies, often experiences bouts of heated emotion. Most common among these is anger. While she has learned to curb this wild feeling, it sometimes goes beyond her control, resulting in debates and the occasional tussle. Aside from this, she is normally docile, showing intense loyalty to her clan mates and a soft love toward the kits. She also has a powerful, often times overwhelming, curiosity. She is afraid of snakes, lizards, and generally all poisonous things. Relationships - Juniperpelt(mother) History - Flareheart is a born and bred cat of the volcano. Ashclan is all she has ever known. Right from the start, you could tell she was going to be a troublemaker. The only kit to a widowed queen, she wanted to know all about everything, much to her mother's dismay. They could often be found arguing over whether she got to go out or not. Her father died before she had been kitted, she was told he went alone against a coyote in the hopes of stemming her curiosity. It did not. As an apprentice, Flareheart was just as wild as she had been as a kit. Except she was actually allowed out of camp. She got into all kinds of trouble. Once she found her love of eating birds, she started to climb trees to get at them. At first, she was just plain awful, coming back from hunting with nothing but bee-lined trips to the medicine den. Over time, she excelled, her determination paving the way to success. Now, as a new warrior, she hopes to put the past behind her and prove she is a warrior worth respecting. Other - High natural prey drive due to breed(shes an ocicat) makes her stay out longer than she usually should looking for food(birds). Name - Yarrowkit Gender - Female Age - six moons Rank - Kit Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Yarrowkit is strong willed and ready to prove herself. She tries her best to live up to her clans views of a warrior, but is looked down on by all. Relationships - sisters- Starkit, Harekit. Brother- Nightkit Mother- Willowfang Father- Oliveclaw Kit crush- Briarthorn History - Yarrowkit is the runt of four kits. Being the last born, her mother named her after yarrow and treated her with nothing but disgust. Her father wanted nothing to do with her. As they got older and more accustomed to clan ways, even her litter mates stopped playing with her. It never kept her from trying her best. This caught the attention of Briarthorn, the clan deputy. He was a bit intimidating, but gentle. Yarrowkit really liked him. She visited him everyday and he would show her tricks to help build her muscles. At least when Jaggedstar wasn't around. She thought Jaggedstar was mean. Briarthorn told the kit, that when she was old enough, he would take her on as his apprentice. Other - Yarrow is the herb used to make cats vomit. Name - Briarthorn Gender - Male Age - 32 moons Rank - Deputy Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - The taskmaster of Lightclan, Briarthorn hands out all orders and commands Jaggedstar desires to be done. He feigns coldness to his clanmates. Even his loyalty to his leader is a façade, his true allegiance lies with his brother, Raggedpelt. He looks upon his clanmates warmly, as opposed to many of the others, but only when Jaggedstar isn't around. Briarthorn is a good mentor and warrior. Relationships - Hawkwing(brother- deceased) Has taken a shine to Yarrowkit, and hopes to prove that even those considered weak could grow into strong warriors, given enough time and encouragement. History - Briarthorn was present during the rebellion started by Raggedpelt. He was taken into confidence, and told to stay out of the fight. If things were to go poorly, someone would need to carry on in their place. When his brother, Hawkwing was slain by Jaggedstar, Briarthorn knew he had to do something to stop his leader. His loyalty was put to question, after Raggedpelt was allowed to leave. He stated that the leaders brother was a traitor and that Jaggedstar had shown incredible restraint in letting him go, whereas he would have ended the tom right there. Briarthorn continued the charade, eventually landing him the rank of deputy. He uses his rank to try and influence the others toward a kinder, more nurturing way. Other - Briarthorn is an infiltrator. A spy. He works behind the scenes to de-throne Jaggedstar and topple the archaic ways of Lightclan. Name - Amberstar Gender - Female Age - 49 moons Rank - Leader Clan - Boulderclan Appearance - This she-cat is huge and towers above most cats. Personality - Amberstar rules Boulderclan with a firm but gentle hand. She welcomes rouges, strays and loners, feeling it makes the clan stronger. She takes all suggestions from her clan and tries her best to accommodate everyone. She is self-conscious about her size. Relationships - No mate, no family. History - As a kit, Amberstar aspired to great things. She was ambitious, and consistently proved herself a valued and talented warrior. It was really no surprise to anyone when she was named deputy. Her strength of character inspired others to be their best. The winter was horrifying. During that time, the former leader died, taking his last life with him. It was a terrible way to ascend to a leadership role, and she had not wanted it to happen that way. Even as she gained her nine lives, several of her clan lost theirs. As the winter ended, Amberstar stood atop the mountains and looked at the world. It was coming into a new spring, and finally her clan would be able to thrive. Other - Name - Stormpaw Gender - Male Age - Eleven moons Rank - Apprentice Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Like all Lightclan members, Stormpaw favors strength. He enjoys a good fight and won't back down from one. He looks down on weak cats, and generally dislikes kits. Even among his own clan, he is cold towards others. Relationships - Mother, father, brother all deceased. History - Perhaps it was the birth of such a cold kit that ended her life. Stormpaw's mother died giving birth to him and his brother, Mosskit. Stormpaw took to the Lightclan philosophy quite well and embraced it while Mosspaw shrunk away from it. It didn't take long for Stormpaw to start antagonizing his brother on his weakness. One night, the two went out. Stormpaw returned soaking wet, but Mosspaw did not. The apprentice stated that his brother fell into the river, and while he did his best to save him, he could not. He showed no remorse or sadness for his brothers death. Other - Name - Granitebite Age - 45 moons Gender - Male Rank - warrior Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Granitebite is a grumpy old tom. He is short with everyone and makes it seem like he has no time for anything. Except his apprentice, if he has one. He likes sunbathing and lazing around. Relationships - Squirrelblossom(mate) History - (Optional) Other - has stiffness in his left back leg. Name - Adderpelt Gender - male Age - 23 moons Rank - Warrior Clan - Boulderclan Appearance - Personality - Incredibly stubborn and not afraid to voice his opinions. He consistently tells other cats that he doesn't need help, but ends up requiring A LOT of help. Likes to play the stud. Relationships - Mother- Coralstep(elder) Father- Hognose(elder) History - (Optional) Other - Name - Leafshade Gender - Female Age - 18 moons Rank - warrior/queen Clan - Oakclan Appearance - Personality - Loving, tender, nurturing. Leafshade is a natural mother. This is coupled by a fierce loyalty to her clan, which she would defend until her dying breath. Relationships - Mudpool(mate) History - (Optional) Other - currently pregnant Name - Appleleap Gender - Female Age - 33 moons Rank - warrior Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - Appleleap takes clan business very seriously and almost always has her nose in everyone's dish. She is kind, but lacks an understanding of MYOB. Often, she has good advice, and enjoys teaching younger cats. Relationships - none or unknown. History - (Optional) Other - Former kittypet. Has a scar on her right front paw.

Oakclan - Vinéshine Elle regarda le nerveux qu'elle-chat "Elle collectionne probablement des herbes, vous pourriez aller vérifier les frontières des deux jambes" elle se radoucit calmement. Cliffclan - Reedheart Elle s'est tournée vers Shadowpaw "...Quoi...non je cherche juste Sundapple" elle s'est tournée puis vers Warmpaw, en flippant sa queue petite colère "Grand...Je ne peux pas attendre si longtemps... Merci quand même Warmpaw" elle a soupiré la tête avant de se retourner pour quitter le chat medician den "Alright, alors j'ai besoin de quelqu'un qui pourrait prendre soin du clan, quand je suis en route" elle a pensé regarder autour de tous les chats, en spotant Appleleap. Appleleap était un guerrier farfelu, qui n'avait pas d'apprenti pour l'instant, donc cette petite tâche ne pouvait pas être trop pour elle. Marcher vers le chat doré "Appleap, pourrais-je te demander quelque chose" elle a soupiré en regardant l'autre chat-elle. Tundraclaw soupirait alors que le Shadowpaw s'éloignait, il regardait Spottedblossom avant de sortir de la crèche. Assis à côté de l'entrée de Warriors, il pensait que c'était le moment de faire de Shadowpaw un guerrier, mais sa sœur n'était pas encore chef et il ne voulait pas trop la pousser. Lightclan - Rainfang Rainfang fait signe que l'adjoint du clan a demandé à son apprenti : « Oui, il est... Il est fort et a appris à être un excellent chasseur... mais il est peut-être trop agressif, ce n'est pas que je puisse faire beaucoup à ce sujet... » Il a glissé en regardant autour de lui juste être sûr que Stormpaw n'était pas quelque part près d'être entendu.

Name - Reedheart (Reedstar) I'm little unsure could I make her a leader or not :/ Gender - She-cat Rank - Deputy Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - Reedheart is gentle cat, not one to raise her voice unless its needed, and will listen to a kit as easely as a warrior. She takes her job very seriously,meaning she want let others down if she can help it. She also smart,brave and sweet toward others. Reedheart loves kittens very much and would do anything for them. As a leader she will probably be a little soft to be leading a clan, but she tries to do her best. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Sister: Icefrost, Brother: Tundraclaw (Will make them later) History - (Optional) Other - Name - Icefrost Gender - She-cat Rank - Warrior Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - She is little lazy, stubborn, harsh, cold-hearted and is unforgiving, but she have her kind, sweet side too. Unlike her siblings she is not that loyal and can break rules, but only if her clanmates don't suffer from it. She is nice toward the cats she likes, but she is little naive and can be easely fooled. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Sister: Reedheart/star, Brother: Tundraclaw, Mate (former): Rainfang (currently a warrior of Lightclan) History - (Optional) Other - Name - Tundraclaw Gender - Tom Rank - Warrior Clan - Cliffclan Appearance - Personality - He is very hard-working, loyal to his clan, kind and lovely to the ones he likes/ trust, he is very protestive. He can be very mean sometimes excpecially cats he don't like, he don't hate anyone, but if he can't accept you will know it. He is little flirty toward she-cats and is seriously looking for a mate. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Sisters: Reedheart/star, Icefrost, Crush: Spottedblossom History - (Optional) Other - Name - Rainfang Gender - Tom Rank - Warrior Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Parents: for Cliffclan, siblings: open, mate(Former): Icefrost/ open, Crush: Looking.... History - He is born and raised for Cliffclan, with his siblings. He fall for his clanmate Icepaw/frost and when warrior they become a mates, even thought he didn't get along with her siblings Reedheart or Tundraclaw. For a time he was a loyal to his clan, never ever thinked to leave, but it chanced when he meets a lightclan cats and eventual get friends with them. He enjoyed more and more with them, listening the live for Lightclan his faith for Cliffclan chanced, unlike lightclan, Cliffclan was weak and he wanted more. He leaved the Cliffclan when get a big argument with his mate Icefrost and he didn't agree that Reedheart was choised to be deputy. Other - Name - Cloverlight Gender - She-cat Rank - Queen Clan - Ashclan Appearance - Personality - She is brave, a little too brave at times, ferociously loyal, and full of curiosity. She is slightly short-tempered, and can spit out words that she regrets later. Her heart was always in the right place. Her bravery can sometimes get her into huge trouble, and one time almost killed. Cloverlight is still overly brave, courageous, curious, feisty, and spunky. However, she is now trying to focus on her litters and be a mother Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Mate: open / Kits: Cherrykit, Pigeonkit, Snowkit, Hollowkit Kits appearance: He is born as a sterile and will never have kits He will lost his sight, little By little She will become a rule/code breaker, probably History - (Optional) Other - She would want a mate and a father for her kits Name - Cedarsky Gender - Tom Rank - Medician cat Clan - Lightclan Appearance - Personality - Stubborn and hard-headed, He is not a cat who can be told what to do by just anymore; he has to respect you. And that respect must be earned, just because someone has a title does not mean they are worthy of his loyalty. She's fairly quick to snark and make quick judgment on others and their decisions, but at the end of the day Cedarsky's smart enough to stop and reprimand himself for his quick temper and will often either apologize or take back of words when he's fully thought them out. He does not mean to be a cranky pain-in-the-rump, and he does know his temper. He is loyal to his leader and clan, but really don't like Briarthorn. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Parents: Unknown History - He is not clan born, his mother was a loner, young she cat which died when giving birth her first litter. He did have a four siblings but when Lightclan patrol found them he was the only one who was still alive. Other - He is 60 moons old, and one of the oldest cats. Name - Vineshine Gender - She-cat Rank - Warrior Clan - Oakclan Appearance - Personality - Kind, protestive, caring, very loving and gentle talking she-cat, thought she is little shy and don't easely start anything. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Brother: Tigersky, crush/ mate: Foxtrot/ Wants History - She and Tigersky are born as a rogue, they're never knowed about their father. Other - Name - Aspenclaw Gender - Tom Rank - Senior warrior Clan - Warrior Appearance - Personality - Grumpy, small talking, lonely, little sarcastic and cold, but he do love kits. Relationships (Family/Mate/Crush) - Death, crush/ mate: No/ he did have Marble named she-cat, but she is long dead. History - He is lived as a loner almost all his live, but when meeting Marble his lonely life chanced. Other -

Chêne Le tom bâillait avec le chat-elle marchait le passa, ses pattes touchaient sa queue et évitaient étroitement de marcher sur lui, même s'il ne s'en souciait pas vraiment. La chose stupide a été assez longue il a marché dessus sur lui-même parfois quand il ne faisait pas attention à l'endroit où il était assis. Vineshine avait rembourré sans réfléchir, mais quand elle le regardait en arrière, elle ne le regardait pas dans les yeux. Elle avait même l'air embarrassée. Qu'est-ce que c'était? Ce n'est pas comme si Foxtrot avait prévu de s'installer avec un pote bientôt. Il y avait d'autres chats qui pouvaient faire ça. Il voulait juste s'amuser et explorer quelques endroits cool tout en prenant soin du clan. Il devait au moins Frostwhisker et Featherwhisker. En les regardant, il a appelé Berrydream et Vineshine. "Ils peuvent gérer ça. Si vous les dérangez, cela pourrait causer des problèmes pour Leafshade. Mais quand les kits viendront, ils auront besoin d'être baignés et gardés au chaud." "Leafshade, ça va faire mal, mais je peux te donner quelque chose pour la douleur si tu veux." Frostwhisker a calmé la Reine, en lui frappant doucement le côté avec sa patte tandis que son corps secouait. Il serait encore un certain temps avant que la jeune Reine donne naissance à la première des trois trousses possibles, et tout serait pris en charge. Elle ferma les yeux, écoutant attentivement Leafshade et le camp à l'extérieur, et l'arrivée de Featherwhiskers la détendit légèrement. Au moins, elle savait qu'ils ne seraient pas interrompus maintenant. Cliffclan La reine regarda entre les deux toms, chacun en compétition pour son attention, bien que, comme Shadowpaw s'éloignait d'eux, elle donna à Tundraclaw un regard de déception. "Tu n'as pas à être si dur avec lui. Il fait de son mieux."

Name Spottedblossom Gender She-cat Rank Queen Clan Cliffclan Personality Spottedblossom is soft-spoken and quiet, often hesitant to speak her mind around strangers. She isn't shy exactly, just careful and polite, respectful of others opinions. In truth, she's a little bit of a push over and doesn't like to burden others even though she isn't capable of defending herself and her kits right now. Relationships Kits (four) | History Spottedblossom used to be a stray cat in a small town not far from the valley, living peacefully with most of the cats there since they all looked out for each other. That was up until another, larger and meaner cat started collecting the scummiest of the cats he could and driving out - or killing - the calm cats of town. They took the hunting places familiar to them, killed anyone who got in there way and went as far as killing and eating a pair of twolegs who had come to Spottedblossom's rescue. The she-cat managed to get away, at the risk of her mate's life, and found the valley with a friend who had avoided clan territory to find a place to stay. Spottedblossom, who was heavily pregnant at the time, needed to find a place safe for her to kit, but there was nowhere outside of clan territory. She took the risk and is glad to this day she did. She found an old rabbit hole, long abandoned and kitted there, alone until another cat came to her. The she-cat ended up breaking his hip kitting in such dangerous conditions, but managed to survive with all of her kits healthy and safe. She woke up with two cats pressed to her sides, keeping herself and the kits warm, and a rabbit ready for her to eat. When she was safe to travel she was welcomed into the clan, and wants to do her part to provide. Other Cannot fight properly because of the old injury | Intends to either stay a Queen, or help the Medicine Cat when she doesn't have kits Duskkit, Sunkit, Dapplekit, Palekit COLOR CODE Name Frostwhisker Gender She-cat Rank Medicine Cat Clan Oakclan Personality Frostwhisker is a friendly and motherly cat, caring and without boundaries when it comes to cats in need. She dislikes suffering and will willingly step into the middle of a fight if she must to make it stop. Overprotective and quite outspoken when she's truly passionate about something, she is also a motivated leader. Relationships Oakstar - mates | Kits - Featherwhisker; Lillystep; Firelight; | Littermates - has two, make one if you want | History Frostwhisker was born to a healthy housecat who had recently run aware from her Two-legs to live in the wild with her mate. Her and her two littermates grew up learning how to hunt and fight for themselves not far from the valley that now houses the two clans. She was always close to her littermates, and the three of them eventually wandered off on their own, though they came back to where they knew their parents would be when she was going to kit for the first time. She began having her dreams in the hard winter when her family group was having a hard time surviving. That was when she knew she needed to gather more cats together. Other Is deaf on the left side | Currently pregnant with her second litter | Plans to cultivate herbs that grow near camp COLOR CODE Name Brimpelt Gender Tom Rank Veteran Warrior Clan Boulderclan Personality Tough and stubborn, Brimpelt has high expectations of his warriors and apprentices. As a hard headed, and bristle pelted individual he's not the type to trust others with much more than meaningless tasks unless they've proven themselves. He dislikes weakness in all it's forms - including kittypet roots. It takes a long time for him to warm up to anybody and often refuses to admit it, but he does act slightly different when he's with those he's comfortable with. Relationships - best friend and closest confident | Flower - mate (formerly; now deceased) History Brimpelt - formerly known as Brimm - was once the leader of a small band of rogues. These rogues were never fond of weakness, including kittypets and Two-legs, and never accepted handouts. The group had once been known as the most notorious in the valley and none of them shied away from spilling weakling blood. This band of rogues is what became much of Boulderclans main fighting force after the formation of, though some moved off to better hunting grounds over the mountains. Brim himself had grown alone in the mountains, becoming a cruel and ruthless leader. Some say that love changes you, and when the tom met Flower he did change, but he did not become the kind cat others would hope for. He was more tolerant, but a charismatic leader. Flower died fighting against the formation of the clans, convinced they should be able to make their own if they must, but her death brought him to his knees long enough to begin his plot. Complete take over and elimination of Boulderclan before he and his followers would move on. Other COLOR CODE Name Jaggedstar Gender Tom Rank Leader Clan Lightclan Personality This leader is cunning and ruthless, powerful and intimidating. He embodies what it is that Lightclan stands for; strength and order. Those who follow his orders are rewarded, not just with first rights to food, but status and patrols of their own. He is, of course, careful to maintain his own power over them. Much of his own clan either fears him, or idolizes him. He is a leader, but not a kind one. The weak he will root out and cast away in shame, not giving them the glory of a death by combat. Relationships (insert name) - mate and confident | Raggedpelt - litter mate History As a kit, Jaggedstar had been named Blackkit by his mother, and his brother Skykit, had been the only two of their litter to survive being birthed. Their mother had died when they were apprentices, in a nasty fight with a dog, in which she was protecting the two of them. Their leader called it a humiliation to them, but Skykit knew it was a kindness. Blackkit on the other hand felt nothing about his mothers sacrifice. This, you could say, was the defining moment for the two apprentices. They learned, trained every day. They fought off a dog together, patrolled together. But Blackpaw never felt bad for killing a weaker cat. He didn't think twice about letting the losing warrior bleed out alone for some other cat to find. This brutality wasn't actively seen by his clan, but by the time him and his brother had come close to becoming warriors, Skypaw confronted him on it. Of all cats, his brother had to understand what Lightclan was doing was wrong, right? Wrong. The night that Skypaw went out to hunt with Blackpaw was the night that the two fought, one trying desperately to save his own life while the other tore him apart. They were equally matched. Both found themselves in the Medicine Cat Den two days later, having slept or didn't remember the entire time. The two were cheered for their feriosity, their determination and neither said a thing about what really happened out there. Jaggedscar and Raggedpelt, scarred only by one another. Quickly they rose in the ranks, one naturally while the other wanted to reform the clan by becoming leader. Jaggedstar won in the end, keeping his brother as one of his most trusted warriors; until his betrayal. Raggedpelt spoke out against him, turned several cats against the clans values and that was the one thing that Jaggedstar could not stand. He, personally, fought several of the warriors defending Raggedpelt, and won, just to get to his brother. His claws pricked his brothers throat, the brown tom looking up at him with sky blue eyes. "Get out. Show your face on clan territory again and I'll kill you myself." Other Has a twisted scar running down his left side | | Name Featherwhisker Gender She-cat Rank Warrior Clan Oakclan Personality Like her mother, Featherwhisker is willing to protect anyone who needs it though she is not as gentle and caring as the medicine cat. She is rebellious in nature, though through nurture she has developed a deep respect for those who have proven themselves to her. She is passionate and speaks out when she feels something needs to be said - even against orders of silence. She does not care for the public opinion if it isn't right and unafraid to be who she is around other cats. Rarely will she instigate a fight, but she is not afraid to finish it if she must. Relationships Frostwhisker & Oakstar - parents | Lillypelt & Firelight - littermates | History Featherwhisker and her littermates were born before the winter that drove them to near starvation, long enough for her to have learned how to hunt and fight but she knew she wouldn't live long in that winter. She was granted her warrior name by her mother not long after the clans had formed, taking it with pride as she found a new purpose to her life. Other COLOR CODE Name Foxtrot Gender Tom Rank Warrior Clan Oakclan Personality Foxtrot is a joking individual who enjoys having fun and is always the first to attempt to lighten a rather serious atmosphere with a really bad joke. Pranks were never his specialty, but humor was always right up his alley. It isn't certain whether or not the tom is capable of any real seriousness with his fun-loving and carefree nature. He's also rather oblivious to affection, and others feelings towards his joking manor - that or he doesn't care enough to care. Who knows? Relationships N/A as of yet History Before becoming part of Oakclan, Foxtrot was the outside cat of a twoleg home down the thunderpath. He was a stray before that, and rarely slept inside of the house, so the couple had never gone looking for him as far as he could tell. One day he walked too far and ended up getting hit by a small monster. Luck for him, Frostwhisker and Featherwhisker had been nearby and heard him calling for help. He was taken into the clan and pledged to repay the two she-cats for what they did for him that day. Other Has a long scar down right rear leg | Back legs get stiff on damp days COLOUR CODE Name Riversong Gender She-cat Rank Warrior - Queen Clan Boulderclan Personality Riversong is far from the gentle and caring mother that most would expect from a pregnant queen. Instead she is assertive and scolding, protective and perfectly willing to jump into a fight if she need be. She despises idiocy and encourages bravery - even though the traits may well be one in the same. Relationships - mate | History Before the arrival of the clans, Riversong had been part of a group of loners who frequented the mountains. She was unaware of the formation of the clans until they came to recruit or disband the group of loners, seeing as she was already pregnant at the time, her mate and her joined the clan. Other COLOR CODE Name Icefire Gender She-cat Clan Ashclan Rank Warrior Personality Icefire is much like her name hints, she is an ever changing constant. She's not moody, though she isn't stable in emotional endevours. At times she is plagued by self doubt, often causing her to stop eating, and on other days she's as bright as newleaf sunshine. Her mood changed at the turn of a rabbits foot, constant in few things. The she-cat is loyal to her clan, though not to the cats within it. She's not one to keep secrets from the deputy and leader if there is a chance it could endanger the rest of the clan. She'll allow those capable to protect themselves without worry, and never frets about something she shouldn't. Relationships History This she-cat was born outside of Ashclan, hailing from the hills not far from Cliffclan territory. It was a small place, a good clan not far from the other clans that they lived. It was long after she'd become a warrior that the end came to them and she was seperated from the other survivors. She found her way to Ashclan. Name Nightkit Gender Tom Rank Kit Clan Lightclan Personality Nightkit is a quiet and cunning tom, the opposite of his sisters. Calm, cold and closed to the people around him. He's a very effective spy, and a very observative individual. He didn't bond well with his sisters as much as he did with others in the clan. Relationships Littermates - Starkit, Yarrowkit & Harekit | Parents - Willowfang & Oliveclaw | History Other Name Raggedpelt Gender Tom Rank Deputy - Former Clan Lightclan - Former Personality Raggedpelt, once a loyal and determined warrior, friendly and well worded and placed among friends, now knows the pain of loneliness. Solitude has turned this tom into an untrusting and morbid animal. He refuses to follow a strangers word, and longs again for the company of a clan. He is a devoted cat, and cares more for the safety of others then his own life. Now, when seen by strangers he is not friendly in first interaction, instead unsure and hostile. He does not expect the best of cats anymore, only the worst, in his daily battles for survival. Relationships Jaggedstar - litermate History Raggedpelt, formerly Skykit and Skypaw, the littermate of Lightclan's current leader Jaggedstar, was born destined for greatness. He felt the hurt of his mothers death, longed for his brothers company and wondered why the clan itself was so brutally cruel to those who deemed them weak. He worried over it, often thinking keeping him up at night though he was never far from his brothers side. The two were insperable, even the day that Skypaw first spoke to Blackpaw about the clans morals. The fight nearly cost him his life, and his sanity, and the two never spoke of it again as they rose the ranks in the clan. Blackpaw became Jaggedstar, Skypaw to Raggedpelt - declared Deputy by his own brother against the odds. His betrayal and exile was the beginning of his hardships. He left then and there, nothing from the Medicine Cat and leaving his apprentice behind, the cat being passed on to the next warrior. There was nothing he could do much leave clan territory or risk getting even more cats killed. Briartorn had managed not to be caught by Jaggedstar, only to survive in a place where cats should not suffer. Ragedpelt left, finding the abandoned camp of the clan they're former leader had destroyed. That was where he became his exile, sleeping alone in an empty camp. Time began to change him, turn him into something closer to his brother than himself. It was not something he loved. It is not something he enjoys. But at this point in time he needs to think of his own survival. Other Name Sundapple Gender Tom Rank Medicine Cat Clan Cliffclan Personality Relationships History Other

Eliška Medved s'accroupit étroitement aux empiècements de contrôle pendant que son estomac se hurlait. L'embarcation d'atterrissage tirait un pointu décent pour éviter l'incendie entrant, en lui envoyant l'intérieur pour une boucle. L'équipe a été divisée entre deux de ces transports; Shepard, Barreton et elle-même dans celui-ci, Zelko et Smith dans l'autre. Les deux navires saignèrent leur vitesse, s'arrêtant derrière un affleurement rocheux qui niait la ligne de vue des tourelles. L'un après l'autre, ils ont touché le sol, faisant monter des nuages de poussière dans leur sillage. "Touchdown! La trappe est ouverte, toutes les unités débarquent!" la voix du copilote sonnait des haut-parleurs. Les portes des deux navettes s'ouvrent avec une touffe, et un feu vert clignote au-dessus du cadre. Eliška poussa ses gaz vers l'avant, et son Strigoi roula dans le canyon poussiéreux. C'était un endroit isolé, aride de beaucoup de végétation ou de faune, mais ces coordonnées abritaient un anneau illégal de lutte contre les cadres, sous la gestion d'un des sous-gangs notoires de Mars. Les gangs contrôlaient ce secteur avec une prise serrée, trop serrée, mais en même temps, trop insignifiante au niveau mondial pour que les forces locales de la Terre s'embêtent à gaspiller l'effort de récupération. C'est pour ça que l'ambassadeur Martien-Jovien a engagé les Revenants de Blayke pour le travail. Bien que riche, le syndicat de gangs était un désordre de morale lâche et de lutte; n'importe qui serait heureux d'avoir le secteur débarrassé de lui. "Arrêtez-vous!" Eliška a appelé. « Nous allons suivre ce canyon au cœur de la station de combat. Ces tourelles ont probablement une perle sur notre dernier emplacement. Faisons en sorte que ce soit fait et que nous gagnions notre garde. Il n'y a rien que quelques gangsters puissent faire pour nous garder à l'écart." À la fin, Eliška poussa son casque à l'oreille. On aurait dit que les audibles du cadre ramassaient quelque chose à proximité, un camion, peut-être? Elle a ajusté le volume, essayant d'identifier le son et l'emplacement. Quand il l'a frappée, elle a jeté sa main sur le bâton, et a penché son Strigoi hors de sa couverture. C'était la rotation à pied des cadres entrants. "J'arrive à neuf heures." Les machines sont entrées dans la plage radar et six blips ont pointé l'écran. Elle pouvait voir les nuages de poussière sur son moniteur. Eliška est sortie du rocher que l'équipe avait niché derrière et a laissé un éclat de feu de son autocannon s'envoler vers les gangsters. "Six robots*; laissez-les l'avoir!" * Bottes - semblable à "tango" ou "bandit", sauf lorsqu'il s'agit de cadres mobiles.

Here's what I've got for my character. I've left _ wherever our regiment's name would show up because I haven't decided on one yet! I'll work on the first IC post, but will probably hold off on posting it until we have one more sheet done. 4 is an ideal minimum. -Pilot- Pilot Name: Eliška Medved Age: 29 Gender: Female Personal Info: As one of the _'s less-experienced officers, Eliška strives to prove that she's not just a good pilot, but a capable leader. Being a mercenary, there's no doubt that she's in the trade for the credits, but Eliška refuses to let the pay get the best of her - there's a line to draw between "safe" contracts and those which infringe upon the morality of the unit. Politics is rarely something that defines a merc unit, but the _ take their employers seriously, and political motivation is, more often than not, a factor in taking contracts. Because every job she participates in represents the regiment, Eliška does her best to put up a good example for her employers. That's not to say she's soft, by any means. When it comes down to it, Eliška will fight tooth and nail to see her comrades in arms through, and to ensure they've all gotten paid their fair share. Brief Bio: WIP Appearance: Link to Theme Song: Inui Hiroki - Destiny of Fire Personal Emblem: The left shoulder of Eliška's frame features a cartoony bat head, a reference to her reputation as a nighttime fighter. -Mobile Frame- Serial Number: APU-21 Designation/Nickname: Strigoi Weaponry/Equipment: The Strigoi is a modular frame, and is compatible with a wide range of weaponry. Eliška's standard loadout consists of the following: -Hand-held 30mm autocannon; drum-fed, select-fire (low 300 to high 600+ RPM), capable of firing a variety of ammunition -Shoulder-mounted 12-tube guided AT missile launcher -Shoulder-mounted 40mm automatic grenade launcher; belt-fed magazine, fires at 350 RPM -Twin-linked anti-infantry vulcans, mounted in either side of the head -Head-mounted flare/chaff launchers Appearance: The Strigoi's upper body resembles the robust appearance of an ATM-09-ST Scopedog, while its limbs are more angular, akin to the RGM-79 series of mobile suits. Eliška's Strigoi is depicted below; the colors are mismatched due to being refitted from spare frames. While prestigious, the unit doesn't have the resources to fully replace every part in mint condition, and to cut costs many pilots use refurbished parts to repair damaged ones. This has led to many diverse, unique-looking frames in its ranks. Other: WIP

Touche-toi! La trappe est ouverte, toutes les unités débarquent! "Arrêtez-vous! Nous allons suivre ce canyon au cœur de la station de combat. Ces tourelles ont probablement une perle sur notre dernier emplacement. Faisons en sorte que ce soit fait et que nous gagnions notre garde. Il n'y a rien que quelques gangsters puissent faire pour nous garder à l'écart." Dans le sillage de l'APU-21 de Medved Strigoi dérive le long du S-C03 Aegis à tête plate appartenant à Cormag Barreton. Les propulseurs anti-friction les Cadres Mobiles de Combat tous utilisés ont été en mesure de transporter rapidement les machines à la bataille comme si s'il patinait sur la glace. Bon pour les manœuvres rapides d'éclatement, mais plus de mouvements de précision clés, en particulier sur n'importe quel type de colline ou de terrain escarpé, étaient mieux offerts par les propres jambes d'une MF. Le cadre de Barreton en particulier était l'un des plus potentiellement maniable si utilisé correctement, mais l'entraînement pour attiser son corps à ces machines inhumaines était aussi rare et défavorable que les mechs eux-mêmes. Sans tenir compte de cela, l'Aegis de Cormag s'est lancé dans la bataille, la large base au sommet des jambes du CMF offrant un pivotement plus grand sur les hanches que la plupart des autres cadres. Barreton n'a pas perdu de temps à découper la zone de derrière le tas de blocs utilisés comme couverture. Le pilote intrépide s'est emparé des commandes montées sur le bras avec une vigueur rafraîchie, avec un sourire fissuré qui s'est répandu sur le visage brouillé de l'homme. "Damn bien, ces punks ne vont pas nous descendre. Qu'est-ce qu'ils ont de mieux, un tas de hand-me-down shacks? Barreton a demandé rhétoriquement, l'arnaque malveillant dans l'intention. Une vague de coups de feu qui visait à la poudre la roche l'Aegis se tenait derrière attira l'attention du mercenaire. Avec un appui rapide sur les gaz, Barreton a tiré son propre cadre hors de la couverture et à partir, tirant le feu inexact de plusieurs autoguns boiteux. La réponse rapide de l'Aegis a été un volley de feu dur de l'autocannon lourd monté à droite, 40 rounds-par-seconde de 35mm à l'escouade légère de 6 mechs. Cormag ne s'arrêta pas jusqu'à ce qu'il atteigne un autre petit affleurement de roches, peu de temps plus tard. Il est certain que quelques-uns des pilotes ennemis trouveraient des bosselures dans leur cadre mobile de la puissance de feu s'évanouissant. "Oh, ils vont l'avoir!" Cormag a pleuré, l'adrénaline déjà pompe son cœur plus vite avec l'exaltation de contrôler la tête plate CMF.

INTEREST! Tell me if it's too powerful and I'll nerf some things. -Pilot- Pilot Name: Cormag Barreton Age: 34 Gender: Male Personal Info: Barreton's the kind of hardened veteran one would expect in any war company, but one with a good amount of youth still left in him. He tends to be stoic and rather neutral regarding most arguments, but when it gets personal he gets brutal, especially in his Moblie Frame. Cormag has taken up experience with rifles prior to becoming a MF pilot, leading him to be proficient in combat in and out of his MF (sometimes both at the same time). He's become rather infamous among the mercenaries for devoting his expertise to the wide torso "flat-head" platform variants of Combat MFs, normally hard to master due to their unusual shape and poise as compared to the typical MF. Brief Bio: Born as the son to a high-ranking mercenary father and a kind-but-worried damsel mother, Cormag was inspired to take up after his father quickly. His mother knew that she couldn't really stop him nor his father, and so admitted to help him get to the point where he wanted to be. As soon as he was applicable, Cormag took up military training and made a very proficient rifleman, perhaps assisted in part by his father's side-hobby as a game hunter. Of course, when Cormag eventually found the opportunity to train in a Mobile Frame suited for combat, he jumped on the opportunity. Turns out it was for a sideways kind of mech as far as combat suitability was concerned, bearing a widened torso. Despite serving as a good weapons platform, this type of MF bore a fazed mobility due to the huge structural differences and altered centered of gravity, and is thus largely kept off of the front lines of the battlefields. Not one to be shot down, though, Cormag endeavored to defy those unwritten rules as best as he could. In spite of everyone who said he couldn't he actually did it, to some degree. While indeed not the most maneuverable machine, Cormag's skill and agility he could possess in the frame was unlike any other for that model. Link to Theme Song: Joel Nielson - Rules of Nature Personal Emblem: -Mobile Frame- Serial Number: S-C03 Designation/Nickname: Aegis Weaponry/Equipment: > Two 10mm rotary Machineguns on either side on the cockpit. General uses are against infantry and for suppression fire. > Gau-12 "Shredder" 35mm drum-fed rotary Autocannon with slight armor-piercing capability. Intended for use against heavy infantry, armored vehicles and most Mobile Frame armor. Mounted on right 'shoulder'. > A 5-tube silo of HEMP laser-guided missiles. Stored behind the left 'shoulder'. > A drum-loaded 40mm 'Snipe Cannon', named for it firing at high velocities akin to a huge sniper rifle. Built for precision attack, and capable of rapid fire for quick anti-tank purposes. Good for disabling typical Mobile Frames if aimed correctly. > Two 5-shot Flare launching systems on either side of the cockpit, farther than the guns. Deters missiles, hails assistance or causes mild smokescreens. > A set of large utility arms on the cockpit. Normally used to load/unload reserve supplies located in packs upon the legs, and also used in this case to subdue infantry or light vehicles at close range. > A huge Gauss-fired Pile Bunker loaded in the underbelly of the torso, beneath the cockpit. Capable of serious destructive power at close range, but unwieldy to use due to recoil on the entire frame and the inefficient rearming system. Not often used more than once in a combat. Other: This Mobile Frame model is ambiguated for urban purposes, but there is no real difference between this and the 'desert' version besides a differed camouflage painting. The specific frame wielded by Cormag is only modified in the use of its utility arms, and the installation of the Pile Bunker, implying this machine was meant to be a versatile combat frame, if it were not for the unfavorable design.

Chris a envoyé une prière rapide à saint Michel, une main sur son harnais de poitrine, l'autre tenant le pendentif sur ses étiquettes de chien, mais pas exactement religieux; il ne pouvait pas blesser d'accorder une certaine attention au saint patron des soldats. Jostling à l'intérieur du monstre multitonnes, il a essayé d'ignorer le fait qu'il était emballé à l'intérieur d'un navire de dépôt brûlant qui, s'il échouait, offrirait toute la protection d'une pomme de terre cuite. Enfin, une secousse beaucoup plus grande l'a alerté à leur atterrissage avant que le copilote ne saute à la radio. Enfin son commandant, ou peu importe ce que les mercs appelaient, il n'a pas prêté attention, a appelé le groupe à tomber dedans. Prenant brièvement en compte son équipement, Chris attendit que la rampe soit dégagée, et s'étendit sur la saleté rouge, en faisant un rapide tour avant de s'aligner devant Eliska. "Knight, rapport sur ordre, Mam. Il dit: Garde une oreille sur elle, et les yeux derrière elle. Tout a été vérifié, un gang de riches trouducs a pensé que certains pilotes et mechs de l'eau de retour ont fait d'eux la loi, ne l'a pas ennuyé de les aider à les renvoyer. "Six robots, qu'ils l'aient!" "Engager des cadres ennemis" Mike dit qu'il a pivoté à droite et est tombé à un genou, mettant un poudron d'épaule entre lui et l'ennemi, rendant la plus petite, meilleure cible blindée disponible. Parier qu'ils ne pouvaient pas frapper une cible en se déplaçant, il a soulevé le canon automatique en position, tirant un ou deux rafales rondes.

sorry for the wait, A and P midterm was supposed to happen today, before the snow came. Pilot- Pilot Name: Christopher Gunderson Age: 23 Gender: male Personal Info: Chris is quiet and reserved for the most part, mostly to avoid any unwanted confrontation. Used to abuse both verbal and physical from a rocky childhood, he tends to shrug or even laugh off most of what people do or say to him. That being said, he finds it hard to stand by and let others receive the same treatment. Following a loose moral code, Chris will pick and choose what contracts will allow him to stay within the lines of his moral compass, basically No civilian casualties. He understands that some may happen, but it will not be on purpose, and not by his hands. Brief Bio: born to a low income family in a down trodden area, Chris grew up tough, quiet, and quick. He struggled through school studying books in the classroom while learning to dodge bullies in school yard. It didn’t take long before he learned to keep his hair short, and ditch baggy clothes. By middle school he had earned his share of scars and cynical outlook on life. Before the year was over Chris finally fought back, picking the unfortunate bully up by the collar and throwing him into a group of tables, he would have done more hadn’t the science teacher blocked him. Looking back he realized that teacher probably steered him away from a darker road then he’s on know. In any case he was thankful that he stepped in. after high school he entered the mech program and became an accomplished, pilot, serving his 4 years and transferring out, finding the rules and regulations against his likening. Floating job to job he heard hearsay of a PMC outfit paying big bucks for less rigid missions. packing his meager belongings, he shipped out to see what they had to offer, and found they we’re willing to give him a job, and a mech as long as he filled his contracts. To date, while not overly joyed about his line of work, he is content as long as they don’t break their word, and money continues to go back home. Appearance: Chris Link to Theme Song: song Personal Emblem: knight logo -Mobile Frame- Serial Number: MFM52095 Designation/Nickname: Knight Weaponry/Equipment: 1x 35mm auto cannon, select fire heavy variant 1x 4 shot, 80mm Anti tank missile launcher w/ two magazines 1x 60mm CQB shotgun 2x 7.62x51mm anti personnel LMG located on sides of head. 1x multipurpose general issue motorized chain sword. Appearance: Knight Other: while lacking heavier mounted weapons, knight makes up for this in increased maneuverability and dexterity, making it a good flanking, or snatch and grab mech, while still having respectable durability.

Ryan s'est tenu sur les sangles de son siège alors que le véhicule chute dans l'atmosphère mince de Mars. Encastré solidement dans la cale, il n'y avait aucune vue de l'extérieur, et seulement les hochets, les bangs et les creaks du navire comme il a été piqué par friction atmosphérique pour dire ce qui se passait même. C'était une expérience très différente de la conduite d'une navette civile - et tout à fait plus terrifiante. Son estomac courait alors que le navire tirait une certaine forme de manœuvre, puis les propulseurs rugissaient, freinant le navire pour atterrir. Ryan a pris les commandes, mettant le Gyrfalcon à la vie. Il y eut une secousse lorsque le navire s'installa au sol, puis les trappes s'ouvrirent. Les pinces sont sorties, et la radio a pris vie avec la voix de Medved. "Arrêtez-vous! Nous allons suivre ce canyon au cœur de la station de combat. Ces tourelles ont probablement une perle sur notre dernier emplacement. Faisons en sorte que ce soit fait et que nous gagnions notre garde. Il n'y a rien que quelques gangsters puissent faire pour nous garder à l'écart." -- Oui, M'am! Il répondit promptement, et poussa le cadre en mouvement. Les roues de pied l'ont envoyé sur la rampe et sur le poussiéreux régolith martien, loin de la sécurité relative de la chute-shuttle. Sur le côté, le second navire s'était posé, et ses camarades s'éloignaient aussi, et prenaient position. Forçant sa mémoire à l'action, il se souvint des compétences qu'on lui forçait; s'étendit, mais pas trop loin. Restez attentif et prêt, tirez si vous tirez dessus ou si vous en avez l'ordre. Voyant les autres se déplacer dans la couverture, il a fait de même un peu maladroitement, mettant la Frame sur un genou derrière un affleurement, et scrutant l'horizon. La visière des Frames a balayé la zone, des capteurs s'approchant avec des doigts électroniques pour sonder le paysage. Quelques instants après qu'Eliska ait ramassé les vibrations, ses capteurs ont résolu la même chose : l'arrivée. Puis la fusillade a commencé. "Six robots*; laissez-les l'avoir!" Fort de la montée de la peur dans son goéland, il a laissé le train logique de la pensée prendre le relais, et a déployé le canon de 50mm de ses cadres en arrière. Zéro sur l'ennemi le plus proche, il a dégagé son esprit, et a appuyé sur la gâchette, en envoyant l'un des projectiles assistés à la fusée vers le bas portée.

-Character & Mobile Frame Sheet- -Pilot- Pilot Name: Ryan Shepard Age: 28 Gender: Male Personal Info: Laid back, easy-going and friendly. Positive outlook and demeanour. Generally, a nice guy with strong principles and a firm moral compass. However, is vicious and ferocious against his enemies, and anyone who preys on the weakness and vulnerability of others. Doesn't brag about his accomplishments, and doesn't see himself as a hero or saviour of any kind, just someone doing what needs to be done, and should be done. Respects skill in others, and dismissive of bragging egotists. Has a great fondness for the music and culture of the late 20th century, and values time to relax and unwind. Enjoys casual drinking and likes to read. Brief Bio: Ryan always had a tendency to look out for others, and a strong sense of moral justice, instilled in him since he was young. Always driven to stand up for himself and others, he often got in trouble for impulsive behaviour and a tendency toward using his fists and his mouth to call out others causing trouble, which left him shouldering much of the blame - although, those he helped out often paid him back in helping him out of it again. Despite this, he made strong friends and connections, and managed to remain unbroken and kept his spirit through his childhood and teenage years, even after his father was arrested for speaking out against unfair conditions and policies, and was arrested after intervening in the arrest of a protestor. With his family under the watchful eye of authorities, and his own life under scrutiny, Ryan left home and travelled around, working 'cash in hand' on numerous freighters and in ports. He picked up the skills of a Mobile Frame pilot during this time, and showed great aptitude for it. When the station he was working in was attacked by a raiding force, he managed to improvise a defence with a cargo-handling frame well enough to get noticed, and was given further tuition by a Merc pilot, before being recruited into the company he now works for. As such, he can be somewhat unorthodox in combat and unsure of himself, and has a rough edge to his piloting technique. However, he is eager to do well and learn. Appearance: Ryan is around 5' 7" with a wiry build, more that or a runner or swimmer than of a soldier. He has a clean-cut and square-jawed appearance, with permanent 5 o'clock shadow. His eyes are green-brown and always seem to be bright with intelligence and focused on whatever subject is at hand. He has sandy-blond hair, which is short and a little messy. His physique otherwise is fairly compact and average, with no real scars and marks, beyond the normal accumulation of lifes' accidents and occurances. He does have a tribal-type tattoo down the left side of his neck, and onto his left arm. His clothing is the standard type of hard-wearing and practical fatigues or other clothing one would expect from Mercenary types. Link to Theme Song: Jesus Built My Mobile Frame -Mobile Frame- Serial Number: GR-99 Designation/Nickname: Gyrfalcon Weaponry/Equipment: Multiple hardpoints for attachment of weapons or other mission equipment. Ryan's standard loadout consists of: Hand-held/shoulder mount 50mm cannon (select-fire, rocket-assisted projectiles, intermediate-range, high-power anti-armour weapon. High accuracy, low RoF, small magazine. Folds down to back when not in use, hand-grip to fire from right shoulder). Shoulder-mounted 6-tube guided missile launcher arm-mounted 3-barrel 20mm rotary autocannon (rapid-fire general-purpose autocannon. Medium-range, high rate of fire, large drum magazine. Less armour penetration, good suppressive weapon) Twin anti-infantry/anti-missile 5.56mm miniguns mounted on the head Other equipment includes search/spotlights, a rocket-propelled grapple/winch, chaff/flare decoy launchers, anti-infantry shrapnel dischargers in the lower legs, and a variety of sensor equipment appropriate to its' combat role. There are storage 'bins' in both lower legs for a moderate amount of survival, utility and personal equipment. Appearance: Somewhere between the M-9 Gernsback and the ARL-99 Helldiver, in terms of general feel and appearance. Lots of angular panels and plates, and a very militaristic feel. Almost like a modern-day fighter jet or armoured vehicle in terms of design cues and influences. Colour wise, the machine has a pattern not unlike Berlin Brigade camouflage, with some red trim, and the appropriate warning labels and insignia. The colours are a little sooty and smeared from natural use and operation. Other: This is Ryan's first personal combat Frame. It's not the most modern or front-line of machines, but has a respectable performance, and is more than adequate for someone like him, who is beginning their career as a combat pilot. The Gyrfalcon is a commonly found Mobile Frame, and is well known for reliability and simplicity, but not for its' advanced and hi-tech features.

Achclan Icefire a failli ronfler d'amusement alors que Magmastar courait sur les choses qu'il pouvait leur faire, des choses qu'aucun véritable chef ne ferait à ceux qui appartenaient au clan. Elle n'avait jamais su qu'Ashclan était cruelle comme Lightclan auparavant, et elle avait autant le droit d'être ici que lui puisque aucune de leurs lignes n'avait commencé à Ashclan. Le chat-elle presque puré, bien que ses yeux décolorés regardaient le tom comme si elle voulait le réprimander, pour lui apprendre ce que c'était d'être un leader. Hélas, elle n'était pas intéressée à commencer un combat avec le plus jeune Tom et s'en alla au son de Flareheart l'appelant. "Pourquoi les chats supportent-ils un leader comme ça?" Icefire a dit qu'elle sortait dans la clairière derrière l'autre chat, presque fougueux alors qu'elle se moquait du chef du clan. Il est regrettable qu'Ashclan ait été le premier clan qu'elle ait rencontré, mais elle est arrivée au volcan à cause des signes qui lui ont été envoyés alors qu'elle était seule. C'était un temps où elle s'était enfuie de Lightclan, après avoir été retrouvée, la menace de mort toujours au coin de la rue quand elle s'est finalement approchée du camp d'Ashclan où ils l'ont emmenée. Le chat de médecine ne pouvait pas détourner un chat dans le besoin, et dans les trois lunes depuis qu'elle n'est pas allée à un rassemblement pour éviter Jaggedstar sachant qu'elle était vivante. Elle avait été sa compagne une fois, mais leurs kits étaient morts en hiver et la famine avait déclenché une guerre. Elle voulait qu'il voie l'erreur de ses prédécesseurs, mais la trahison de Raggedpelt avait suffi à l'éloigner même d'elle. Le feu de glace n'oublierait pas. Clan-lumière Le chef se pencha alors que Yarrowpaw touchait son petit nez à lui, ses yeux brillaient de déception et d'excitation conflictuelles. Elle avait voulu Briarthorn, mais il y avait plus qu'il pouvait lui apprendre à l'époque Nightpaw. Après tout, elle était l'abrutie de la portée, et elle avait besoin d'apprendre à prendre soin d'elle-même plus que n'importe qui d'autre. Il s'est redressé, passant un coup d'œil à Briarthorn avec Rainfang, ayant ignoré son nouvel apprenti. Naturellement, Jagdestar n'a pas fait de commentaires à ce sujet, bien qu'en s'éloignant d'eux, il a fait un point pour pousser Nightpaw vers le député. "Pâque à la patte!" Jaggedstar a appelé par-dessus son épaule, en faisant signe au nouvel apprenti après lui avec sa queue. "Trouvons ton premier regard à l'extérieur du camp." Il avait oublié ce que c'était d'encadrer un chat, mais il revenait à lui en sortant, laissant les autres chats s'en sortir. Aucun n'était suffisamment monique pour quitter le camp sans surveillance, et la pile de morts fraîche vide les appellerait certainement à la chasse assez tôt. Bien sûr, Yarrowpaw ne chasserait pas encore, pas tant qu'elle n'aura pas appris les limites, bien qu'il lui montrerait les lieux d'entraînement demain. Sa mince peau noire semblait se fondre dans l'ombre des roseaux, sa forme se tordant autour d'eux comme s'il n'était jamais là, ne laissant pas une seule tige trembler après lui. Il a été pratiqué en restant silencieux comme ça, bien qu'il ne s'attende pas à la même chose de tous les autres. Il n'a pas attendu Yarrowpaw pour rattraper jusqu'à ce qu'il atteigne le rivage de la rivière qui les a gardés en sécurité. "Il est temps d'apprendre à nager." Le jeune Tom, après avoir touché le nez avec son mentor, s'assit et fronça la queue sur ses pattes tandis que Rainfang marchait pour parler avec Briarthorn. Il n'avait pas vu un mentor ignorer son apprenti comme ça si tôt auparavant, bien qu'il ait supposé que ce serait important et n'ait donc jamais dit un mot. Ses yeux suivaient les mouvements des chats, le mécontentement et la surprise dans ses yeux alors qu'il anaylait ce qui avait été échangé. Il vit Jaggedstar regarder vers lui et sentit le coup du chef contre sa fourrure. C'était un chat qu'il pouvait chercher, s'il y avait quelqu'un qui valait la peine de chercher dans les clans. Nightpaw avait parlé avec Raggedpelt était il était un plus jeune kit, apprendre de la tom pendant un certain temps bien qu'il était clair dès un jeune âge à quel point nightkit serait indifférent. Il était encore jeune, avec le temps de changer, mais même sa mère n'avait pas pris le temps de remarquer son manque évident de passion. Nightpaw a regardé Briarthorn, regardant le tom pendant qu'il parlait avec Rainfang, parlant d'abord de Yarrowpaw, puis de Stormpaw comme pour changer le sujet. C'était assez amusant d'être honnête et Nightpaw ne s'est pas ennuyé de s'asseoir et de regarder comme Jaggedstar a emmené sa sœur loin. À tout le moins, il n'aurait pas à l'écouter poser un million de questions avec des réponses évidentes, bien qu'il fût impatient de quitter le camp pour la première fois. "Briarthorn, les autres sont déjà partis." Chêne Le jeune guerrier est entré dans la clairière, un faisan entre ses mâchoires, tout comme Berrydream a couru autour en criant pour elle. C'était plutôt tôt, mais elle était sortie avec Foxtrot plus tôt, mais ils s'étaient séparés l'un de l'autre quand elle s'était arrêtée à une herbe. Elle savait que Leafshade allait bientôt accoucher, et ayant trouvé un vieux nid d'oiseaux, elle a pris les plumes molles avec elle quand elle est partie pour retourner au camp. Elle a failli croiser Berrydream en passant par l'entrée. -- C'est l'heure? Elle a demandé à l'adjoint si la douleur venait de l'autre côté du camp. Elle n'était pas inquiète, ni pressée. Frostwhisker serait là avec elle, et elle savait qu'elle aurait ce dont elle avait besoin jusqu'à présent. En marchant jusqu'à la pile fraîche, elle a posé le gros oiseau avant de passer à la pépinière et de prendre un pic à l'intérieur de celle-ci. Frostwhisker était avec Leafshade, et elle avait quelques-unes des choses dont elle allait avoir besoin bien qu'elle ait manqué quelques choses. Même le grand Maine Coon ne pouvait pas porter tout ce dont elle avait besoin. En se retournant, elle courut jusqu'à l'entrepôt d'herbes et se brossa par le lichen, s'installant dans l'entrepôt. En reniflant autour d'elle, elle a trouvé ce dont elle avait besoin et est retournée à la crèche. "Je vais garder tout le monde dehors pour le moment Frostwhisker."

Name Spottedblossom Gender She-cat Rank Queen Clan Cliffclan Personality Spottedblossom is soft-spoken and quiet, often hesitant to speak her mind around strangers. She isn't shy exactly, just careful and polite, respectful of others opinions. In truth, she's a little bit of a push over and doesn't like to burden others even though she isn't capable of defending herself and her kits right now. Relationships Kits (four) | History Spottedblossom used to be a stray cat in a small town not far from the valley, living peacefully with most of the cats there since they all looked out for each other. That was up until another, larger and meaner cat started collecting the scummiest of the cats he could and driving out - or killing - the calm cats of town. They took the hunting places familiar to them, killed anyone who got in there way and went as far as killing and eating a pair of twolegs who had come to Spottedblossom's rescue. The she-cat managed to get away, at the risk of her mate's life, and found the valley with a friend who had avoided clan territory to find a place to stay. Spottedblossom, who was heavily pregnant at the time, needed to find a place safe for her to kit, but there was nowhere outside of clan territory. She took the risk and is glad to this day she did. She found an old rabbit hole, long abandoned and kitted there, alone until another cat came to her. The she-cat ended up breaking his hip kitting in such dangerous conditions, but managed to survive with all of her kits healthy and safe. She woke up with two cats pressed to her sides, keeping herself and the kits warm, and a rabbit ready for her to eat. When she was safe to travel she was welcomed into the clan, and wants to do her part to provide. Other Cannot fight properly because of the old injury | Intends to either stay a Queen, or help the Medicine Cat when she doesn't have kits Duskkit, Sunkit, Dapplekit, Palekit COLOR CODE Name Frostwhisker Gender She-cat Rank Medicine Cat Clan Oakclan Personality Frostwhisker is a friendly and motherly cat, caring and without boundaries when it comes to cats in need. She dislikes suffering and will willingly step into the middle of a fight if she must to make it stop. Overprotective and quite outspoken when she's truly passionate about something, she is also a motivated leader. Relationships Oakstar - mates | Kits - Featherwhisker; Lillystep; Firelight; | Littermates - has two, make one if you want | History Frostwhisker was born to a healthy housecat who had recently run aware from her Two-legs to live in the wild with her mate. Her and her two littermates grew up learning how to hunt and fight for themselves not far from the valley that now houses the two clans. She was always close to her littermates, and the three of them eventually wandered off on their own, though they came back to where they knew their parents would be when she was going to kit for the first time. She began having her dreams in the hard winter when her family group was having a hard time surviving. That was when she knew she needed to gather more cats together. Other Is deaf on the left side | Currently pregnant with her second litter | Plans to cultivate herbs that grow near camp COLOR CODE Name Brimpelt Gender Tom Rank Veteran Warrior Clan Boulderclan Personality Tough and stubborn, Brimpelt has high expectations of his warriors and apprentices. As a hard headed, and bristle pelted individual he's not the type to trust others with much more than meaningless tasks unless they've proven themselves. He dislikes weakness in all it's forms - including kittypet roots. It takes a long time for him to warm up to anybody and often refuses to admit it, but he does act slightly different when he's with those he's comfortable with. Relationships - best friend and closest confident | Flower - mate (formerly; now deceased) History Brimpelt - formerly known as Brimm - was once the leader of a small band of rogues. These rogues were never fond of weakness, including kittypets and Two-legs, and never accepted handouts. The group had once been known as the most notorious in the valley and none of them shied away from spilling weakling blood. This band of rogues is what became much of Boulderclans main fighting force after the formation of, though some moved off to better hunting grounds over the mountains. Brim himself had grown alone in the mountains, becoming a cruel and ruthless leader. Some say that love changes you, and when the tom met Flower he did change, but he did not become the kind cat others would hope for. He was more tolerant, but a charismatic leader. Flower died fighting against the formation of the clans, convinced they should be able to make their own if they must, but her death brought him to his knees long enough to begin his plot. Complete take over and elimination of Boulderclan before he and his followers would move on. Other COLOR CODE Name Jaggedstar Gender Tom Rank Leader Clan Lightclan Personality This leader is cunning and ruthless, powerful and intimidating. He embodies what it is that Lightclan stands for; strength and order. Those who follow his orders are rewarded, not just with first rights to food, but status and patrols of their own. He is, of course, careful to maintain his own power over them. Much of his own clan either fears him, or idolizes him. He is a leader, but not a kind one. The weak he will root out and cast away in shame, not giving them the glory of a death by combat. Relationships (insert name) - mate and confident | Raggedpelt - litter mate History As a kit, Jaggedstar had been named Blackkit by his mother, and his brother Skykit, had been the only two of their litter to survive being birthed. Their mother had died when they were apprentices, in a nasty fight with a dog, in which she was protecting the two of them. Their leader called it a humiliation to them, but Skykit knew it was a kindness. Blackkit on the other hand felt nothing about his mothers sacrifice. This, you could say, was the defining moment for the two apprentices. They learned, trained every day. They fought off a dog together, patrolled together. But Blackpaw never felt bad for killing a weaker cat. He didn't think twice about letting the losing warrior bleed out alone for some other cat to find. This brutality wasn't actively seen by his clan, but by the time him and his brother had come close to becoming warriors, Skypaw confronted him on it. Of all cats, his brother had to understand what Lightclan was doing was wrong, right? Wrong. The night that Skypaw went out to hunt with Blackpaw was the night that the two fought, one trying desperately to save his own life while the other tore him apart. They were equally matched. Both found themselves in the Medicine Cat Den two days later, having slept or didn't remember the entire time. The two were cheered for their feriosity, their determination and neither said a thing about what really happened out there. Jaggedscar and Raggedpelt, scarred only by one another. Quickly they rose in the ranks, one naturally while the other wanted to reform the clan by becoming leader. Jaggedstar won in the end, keeping his brother as one of his most trusted warriors; until his betrayal. Raggedpelt spoke out against him, turned several cats against the clans values and that was the one thing that Jaggedstar could not stand. He, personally, fought several of the warriors defending Raggedpelt, and won, just to get to his brother. His claws pricked his brothers throat, the brown tom looking up at him with sky blue eyes. "Get out. Show your face on clan territory again and I'll kill you myself." Other Has a twisted scar running down his left side | | Name Featherwhisker Gender She-cat Rank Warrior Clan Oakclan Personality Like her mother, Featherwhisker is willing to protect anyone who needs it though she is not as gentle and caring as the medicine cat. She is rebellious in nature, though through nurture she has developed a deep respect for those who have proven themselves to her. She is passionate and speaks out when she feels something needs to be said - even against orders of silence. She does not care for the public opinion if it isn't right and unafraid to be who she is around other cats. Rarely will she instigate a fight, but she is not afraid to finish it if she must. Relationships Frostwhisker & Oakstar - parents | Lillypelt & Firelight - littermates | History Featherwhisker and her littermates were born before the winter that drove them to near starvation, long enough for her to have learned how to hunt and fight but she knew she wouldn't live long in that winter. She was granted her warrior name by her mother not long after the clans had formed, taking it with pride as she found a new purpose to her life. Other COLOR CODE Name Foxtrot Gender Tom Rank Warrior Clan Oakclan Personality Foxtrot is a joking individual who enjoys having fun and is always the first to attempt to lighten a rather serious atmosphere with a really bad joke. Pranks were never his specialty, but humor was always right up his alley. It isn't certain whether or not the tom is capable of any real seriousness with his fun-loving and carefree nature. He's also rather oblivious to affection, and others feelings towards his joking manor - that or he doesn't care enough to care. Who knows? Relationships N/A as of yet History Before becoming part of Oakclan, Foxtrot was the outside cat of a twoleg home down the thunderpath. He was a stray before that, and rarely slept inside of the house, so the couple had never gone looking for him as far as he could tell. One day he walked too far and ended up getting hit by a small monster. Luck for him, Frostwhisker and Featherwhisker had been nearby and heard him calling for help. He was taken into the clan and pledged to repay the two she-cats for what they did for him that day. Other Has a long scar down right rear leg | Back legs get stiff on damp days COLOUR CODE Name Riversong Gender She-cat Rank Warrior - Queen Clan Boulderclan Personality Riversong is far from the gentle and caring mother that most would expect from a pregnant queen. Instead she is assertive and scolding, protective and perfectly willing to jump into a fight if she need be. She despises idiocy and encourages bravery - even though the traits may well be one in the same. Relationships - mate | History Before the arrival of the clans, Riversong had been part of a group of loners who frequented the mountains. She was unaware of the formation of the clans until they came to recruit or disband the group of loners, seeing as she was already pregnant at the time, her mate and her joined the clan. Other COLOR CODE Name Icefire Gender She-cat Clan Ashclan Rank Warrior Personality Icefire is much like her name hints, she is an ever changing constant. She's not moody, though she isn't stable in emotional endevours. At times she is plagued by self doubt, often causing her to stop eating, and on other days she's as bright as newleaf sunshine. Her mood changed at the turn of a rabbits foot, constant in few things. The she-cat is loyal to her clan, though not to the cats within it. She's not one to keep secrets from the deputy and leader if there is a chance it could endanger the rest of the clan. She'll allow those capable to protect themselves without worry, and never frets about something she shouldn't. Relationships History This she-cat was born outside of Ashclan, hailing from the hills not far from Cliffclan territory. It was a small place, a good clan not far from the other clans that they lived. It was long after she'd become a warrior that the end came to them and she was seperated from the other survivors. She found her way to Ashclan. Name Nightkit Gender Tom Rank Kit Clan Lightclan Personality Nightkit is a quiet and cunning tom, the opposite of his sisters. Calm, cold and closed to the people around him. He's a very effective spy, and a very observative individual. He didn't bond well with his sisters as much as he did with others in the clan. Relationships Littermates - Starkit, Yarrowkit & Harekit | Parents - Willowfang & Oliveclaw | History Other Name Raggedpelt Gender Tom Rank Deputy - Former Clan Lightclan - Former Personality Raggedpelt, once a loyal and determined warrior, friendly and well worded and placed among friends, now knows the pain of loneliness. Solitude has turned this tom into an untrusting and morbid animal. He refuses to follow a strangers word, and longs again for the company of a clan. He is a devoted cat, and cares more for the safety of others then his own life. Now, when seen by strangers he is not friendly in first interaction, instead unsure and hostile. He does not expect the best of cats anymore, only the worst, in his daily battles for survival. Relationships Jaggedstar - litermate History Raggedpelt, formerly Skykit and Skypaw, the littermate of Lightclan's current leader Jaggedstar, was born destined for greatness. He felt the hurt of his mothers death, longed for his brothers company and wondered why the clan itself was so brutally cruel to those who deemed them weak. He worried over it, often thinking keeping him up at night though he was never far from his brothers side. The two were insperable, even the day that Skypaw first spoke to Blackpaw about the clans morals. The fight nearly cost him his life, and his sanity, and the two never spoke of it again as they rose the ranks in the clan. Blackpaw became Jaggedstar, Skypaw to Raggedpelt - declared Deputy by his own brother against the odds. His betrayal and exile was the beginning of his hardships. He left then and there, nothing from the Medicine Cat and leaving his apprentice behind, the cat being passed on to the next warrior. There was nothing he could do much leave clan territory or risk getting even more cats killed. Briartorn had managed not to be caught by Jaggedstar, only to survive in a place where cats should not suffer. Ragedpelt left, finding the abandoned camp of the clan they're former leader had destroyed. That was where he became his exile, sleeping alone in an empty camp. Time began to change him, turn him into something closer to his brother than himself. It was not something he loved. It is not something he enjoys. But at this point in time he needs to think of his own survival. Other Name Sundapple Gender Tom Rank Medicine Cat Clan Cliffclan Personality Relationships History Other

Le poids combiné des armes des mercenaires s'est écrasé dans la formation de bandits, en envoyant l'un des cadres caressant à travers le sable, maintenant une masse carbonisée et vaporisante. La poussière l'a rendu difficile à dire, mais il était probable que l'ogive de Ryan était le coupable. Les machines restantes se séparent, deux à droite et trois à gauche. C'était un mouvement de pincer classique, et Eliška savait qu'ils devaient s'en sortir. "Scatter!" Elle s'est brouillée. "Ne les laissez pas nous enfermer." Elle s'est dardée vers l'avant, en montant son cadre entre l'écart créé par les bandits. Sans l'unité verrouillée dans une formation solide, il serait impossible de faire un mouvement de flanc typique sur eux. Le Strigoi a pivoté sur ses roues pour faire face aux robots les plus proches, tandis qu'il zoomait vers l'arrière. Avec leurs arrières exposés à la manœuvre soudaine d'Eliška, un staccato de coups de feu a éclaté de son autocannon, brisant l'armure de la jambe arrière du cadre le plus proche. L'impact a mis le membre hors de l'alignement, forçant la machine à trembler avant de frapper le sable avec un thwump. Avec celle-ci brièvement hors de comision, elle a tourné son attention à son partenaire, qui se tournait déjà à la vengeance exacte. Un coup d'œil tour à tour sur l'épaule de Strigioi, laissant une bosselure métallique au point d'impact. Se grincant les dents, elle s'est précipitée vers l'arrière, créant une certaine distance entre elle et sa cible. Elle a jeté un coup d'oeil au reste des fiançailles, pour voir comment son escouade se dirigeait. "Tu tiens le coup?" lui a demandé sa voix au-dessus de la communication.

Here's what I've got for my character. I've left _ wherever our regiment's name would show up because I haven't decided on one yet! I'll work on the first IC post, but will probably hold off on posting it until we have one more sheet done. 4 is an ideal minimum. -Pilot- Pilot Name: Eliška Medved Age: 29 Gender: Female Personal Info: As one of the _'s less-experienced officers, Eliška strives to prove that she's not just a good pilot, but a capable leader. Being a mercenary, there's no doubt that she's in the trade for the credits, but Eliška refuses to let the pay get the best of her - there's a line to draw between "safe" contracts and those which infringe upon the morality of the unit. Politics is rarely something that defines a merc unit, but the _ take their employers seriously, and political motivation is, more often than not, a factor in taking contracts. Because every job she participates in represents the regiment, Eliška does her best to put up a good example for her employers. That's not to say she's soft, by any means. When it comes down to it, Eliška will fight tooth and nail to see her comrades in arms through, and to ensure they've all gotten paid their fair share. Brief Bio: WIP Appearance: Link to Theme Song: Inui Hiroki - Destiny of Fire Personal Emblem: The left shoulder of Eliška's frame features a cartoony bat head, a reference to her reputation as a nighttime fighter. -Mobile Frame- Serial Number: APU-21 Designation/Nickname: Strigoi Weaponry/Equipment: The Strigoi is a modular frame, and is compatible with a wide range of weaponry. Eliška's standard loadout consists of the following: -Hand-held 30mm autocannon; drum-fed, select-fire (low 300 to high 600+ RPM), capable of firing a variety of ammunition -Shoulder-mounted 12-tube guided AT missile launcher -Shoulder-mounted 40mm automatic grenade launcher; belt-fed magazine, fires at 350 RPM -Twin-linked anti-infantry vulcans, mounted in either side of the head -Head-mounted flare/chaff launchers Appearance: The Strigoi's upper body resembles the robust appearance of an ATM-09-ST Scopedog, while its limbs are more angular, akin to the RGM-79 series of mobile suits. Eliška's Strigoi is depicted below; the colors are mismatched due to being refitted from spare frames. While prestigious, the unit doesn't have the resources to fully replace every part in mint condition, and to cut costs many pilots use refurbished parts to repair damaged ones. This has led to many diverse, unique-looking frames in its ranks. Other: WIP

Le cadre de Richard s'est posé avec une forte bosse alors que la terre s'étirait sous son fardeau soudain. Son strum fausts a manqué leurs cibles mais ils ont vomi de la fumée et de la saleté et cela a été assez de distraction pour Richard d'atterrir et de laisser une explosion de son autocannon de cadre. Les trois rafales que Richard a tirées ont touché l'un des cadres de l'ennemi, les rafales pénétrant profondément dans le cadre, puis dans l'arrière, l'une des rafales s'est produite dans le cockpit de l'ennemi, l'énorme rafale ronde dans le corps du pilote. Soudain, une fusée a été tirée quelque part à l'arrière du cadre de Richard, Richard a déplacé le corps de son cadre et utilisé le bouclier monté sur l'épaule de son cadre pour le bloquer. L'impact explosif berçant Richard à l'intérieur de son cockpit, il a rapidement tiré sur les propulseurs et a recommencé à viser une certaine couverture derrière quelques blocs. Swinging dehors pour tirer une autre rafale de son canon automatique.

-Character & Mobile Frame Sheet- -Pilot- Pilot Name: Richard Smith Age: 35 Gender: Male Personal Info: A veteran of the company, Richard is an experienced mercenary. Mainly he performs recon for his unit using his many years, as an asset as Richard has collected many contacts and connections over the years. Laid-back. loud and a heavy drinker, Brief Bio: Appearance: Personal Emblem: -Mobile Frame- Serial Number: APU-23 (V-Type Kai) Designation: Raven Tropen Weaponry/Equipment: - Hand-held 30mm auto-cannon; magazine fed from a 32 round magazine, select fire capable -Sturm Faust; A disposable explosive weapon with a rocket propelled warhead, mounts two on right side of rear thrusters -Heat Knife; An dagger-shaped close combat weapon, it uses a super-heated blade to cut through the armor of enemy mobile frames. The thermal energy is generated by the power output of the APU-21 (V-Type Kai) thermonuclear reactor and relayed through the mobile frames' hands. Stored on the rear skirt armor. -Shield; Mounted on the right shoulder, a thick sheet of armor designed to take severe punishment that would normally destroy a mobile frame. -Multiple hard points and parts to tailor to mission requirements

Richard a pris une balançoire de whisky de sa cantine avant de la ranger dans l'un des conteneurs dans le cockpit exigu de son costume. Il prit son autre main du bâton comme il utilisait son autre main avec un chiffon pour essuyer la sueur et son front. Richard était dans ce genre d'affaires depuis longtemps, mais chaque fois qu'il a obtenu les secousses avant l'adrénaline a frappé dedans. Il n'a jamais su si c'était sa dernière mission et avec sa femme et sa femme de dix ans à la maison, il ne pouvait pas se permettre de partir et mourir, en même temps, ces types d'emplois ont bien payé pour qu'il ne puisse plus se permettre d'abandonner. Même s'il a démissionné, il n'avait pas d'autres compétences que de piloter son cadre. La navette de transport s'est ébranlée violemment alors qu'elle se dirigeait vers la surface pour éviter le feu ennemi, et juste quand vous pensiez que la violente secousse s'ensuivait. La navette a lancé ses propulseurs aussi violemment pour ralentir l'embarcation au fur et à mesure que les portes s'ouvraient pour révéler un paysage stérile. "Arrêtez-vous!" Eliška a appelé. « Nous allons suivre ce canyon au cœur de la station de combat. Ces tourelles ont probablement une perle sur notre dernier emplacement. Faisons en sorte que ce soit fait et que nous gagnions notre garde. Il n'y a rien que quelques gangsters puissent faire pour nous garder à l'écart." Il n'a pas fallu longtemps pour qu'Eliska appelle les contacts et Richard a rapidement et tranquillement actionné son cadre pour s'aligner sur le reste de l'escouade, ses cadres des propulseurs arrière tirant pour propulser sa machine vers l'avant le bras gauche du cadre atteignant par-dessus et récupérant les deux strum faust's situés sur le dos et les tirant sur les cadres approchants. Leurs explosions éclairent le paysage stérile.

-Character & Mobile Frame Sheet- -Pilot- Pilot Name: Richard Smith Age: 35 Gender: Male Personal Info: A veteran of the company, Richard is an experienced mercenary. Mainly he performs recon for his unit using his many years, as an asset as Richard has collected many contacts and connections over the years. Laid-back. loud and a heavy drinker, Brief Bio: Appearance: Personal Emblem: -Mobile Frame- Serial Number: APU-23 (V-Type Kai) Designation: Raven Tropen Weaponry/Equipment: - Hand-held 30mm auto-cannon; magazine fed from a 32 round magazine, select fire capable -Sturm Faust; A disposable explosive weapon with a rocket propelled warhead, mounts two on right side of rear thrusters -Heat Knife; An dagger-shaped close combat weapon, it uses a super-heated blade to cut through the armor of enemy mobile frames. The thermal energy is generated by the power output of the APU-21 (V-Type Kai) thermonuclear reactor and relayed through the mobile frames' hands. Stored on the rear skirt armor. -Shield; Mounted on the right shoulder, a thick sheet of armor designed to take severe punishment that would normally destroy a mobile frame. -Multiple hard points and parts to tailor to mission requirements

Chris poursuivit son assaut méthodique, ajustant légèrement son but pour continuer à marteler la formation entrante de mechs quand la fracture, la tête mech trébuchant dans un tas brûlant. "Scatter! Ne les laissez pas nous enfermer." Le casque de Chris a crié en lui faisant un petit clin d'œil. Goading sa mech pour sauter et commencer à courir il a pris une seconde pour évaluer la situation, la majorité balayaient gauche, et c'était assez bon pour lui. Chris a coupé vers le groupe ennemi, courant pour un faible affleurement, ce n'était pas beaucoup plus qu'un tas de gravats pour chevalier, mais toute couverture est bonne couverture. Plongée dans la poussière derrière les rochers, Chris promettait silencieusement d'avoir repeint chevalier alors qu'il rampait en position. En regardant autour d'un rocher, et en s'arrêtant juste assez longtemps pour voir entrer, il a envoyé un autre barrage vers le bas portée. "Tu tiens le coup?" son commandant a demandé à Chris de passer à son fusil alors que l'un des ennemis s'approchait, en coupant sa couverture au fur et à mesure qu'elle avançait. "Knight, oui, les rochers, pas tant" il grondait alors qu'il lâchait le chevalier des débris, et tirait le canon de jauge lourde. Flacant le mech bon marché devant lui avec des flechettes de tungstène de la taille des boulons de décalage et souriant avant le chevalier a lurché violemment vers l'avant. le sourire est devenu un yelp tandis que chris combattait les commandes, les chevaliers gauche jambe était coincé à la hanche, et le sol courait vers son moniteur. Chris toussait alors qu'il secouait le choc de sa moustache sur le sol martien et roulait le chevalier de façon réflexive pour le couvrir d'une certaine difficulté, roulait la saleté derrière lui. "Knight" a frappé, toujours opérationnel... Je pense." Se tenant au sommet derrière la couverture, il s'est vite enfui alors que la roche s'est brisée d'une limace. Il vérifiera quand les choses ne sont pas en train de nous tuer.

sorry for the wait, A and P midterm was supposed to happen today, before the snow came. Pilot- Pilot Name: Christopher Gunderson Age: 23 Gender: male Personal Info: Chris is quiet and reserved for the most part, mostly to avoid any unwanted confrontation. Used to abuse both verbal and physical from a rocky childhood, he tends to shrug or even laugh off most of what people do or say to him. That being said, he finds it hard to stand by and let others receive the same treatment. Following a loose moral code, Chris will pick and choose what contracts will allow him to stay within the lines of his moral compass, basically No civilian casualties. He understands that some may happen, but it will not be on purpose, and not by his hands. Brief Bio: born to a low income family in a down trodden area, Chris grew up tough, quiet, and quick. He struggled through school studying books in the classroom while learning to dodge bullies in school yard. It didn’t take long before he learned to keep his hair short, and ditch baggy clothes. By middle school he had earned his share of scars and cynical outlook on life. Before the year was over Chris finally fought back, picking the unfortunate bully up by the collar and throwing him into a group of tables, he would have done more hadn’t the science teacher blocked him. Looking back he realized that teacher probably steered him away from a darker road then he’s on know. In any case he was thankful that he stepped in. after high school he entered the mech program and became an accomplished, pilot, serving his 4 years and transferring out, finding the rules and regulations against his likening. Floating job to job he heard hearsay of a PMC outfit paying big bucks for less rigid missions. packing his meager belongings, he shipped out to see what they had to offer, and found they we’re willing to give him a job, and a mech as long as he filled his contracts. To date, while not overly joyed about his line of work, he is content as long as they don’t break their word, and money continues to go back home. Appearance: Chris Link to Theme Song: song Personal Emblem: knight logo -Mobile Frame- Serial Number: MFM52095 Designation/Nickname: Knight Weaponry/Equipment: 1x 35mm auto cannon, select fire heavy variant 1x 4 shot, 80mm Anti tank missile launcher w/ two magazines 1x 60mm CQB shotgun 2x 7.62x51mm anti personnel LMG located on sides of head. 1x multipurpose general issue motorized chain sword. Appearance: Knight Other: while lacking heavier mounted weapons, knight makes up for this in increased maneuverability and dexterity, making it a good flanking, or snatch and grab mech, while still having respectable durability.

Arthur se pencha contre l'un des bâtiments près du marché, se moquant des ficelles de son luth. Juste à ce moment-là, un groupe de trois femmes autour de son âge marchait près de lui. Il les regarda et sourit, avant d'étrangler l'instrument dans ses mains. La chose était complètement hors de son et a fait un bruit horrible, conduisant quelques passants, y compris les trois femmes, à s'enfuir rapidement du bruit horrible. Arthur regarda son luth dans l'irritation, avant de l'accrocher à l'extérieur de son sac, puis de quitter sa place pour regarder les différents articles à vendre. De tout le bruit, une seule voix s'est distinguée, la voix d'un marchand vendant une carte. L'aventure, hein? Les femmes aiment les aventuriers. "Excusez-moi, monsieur. Pour combien vendez-vous cette carte?" Arthur demanda poliment au marchand.

Name: Arthur Gray Age: 21 Race: Boring ass human Gender: Male Backstory: Arthur has lived in Fireside all his life. Ever since he was young, he's been trying to attract women... and has always fallen short of success. He's tried sports, music, poetry, etc. and has never actually been able to pick up anyone of the opposite gender. Aspirations or Desires: To score tons of chicks. Skills prior to adventuring: Mediocre skill at lute, thinks he can write poetry, and somewhat good at dodging and throwing... dodge balls. Personality: Arthur is an extreme optimist. If he ever gets sad or angry, just wait about ten seconds and he should be back to his usual chipper mood.

Éparpillement! Ne les laissez pas nous enfermer. "J'y vais!" Cormag s'est redressé en confirmation, poussant son CMF encore plus loin des rochers pour dépasser la division de 3 hommes dans l'ennemi. Il ressemblait aux 2 autres MF ennemis qui avaient l'intention d'utiliser l'affleurement rocheux comme couverture supplémentaire; un plan sûrement voué à l'échec quelle que soit leur stratégie contre les armes bien plus avancées des Revenants de Blayke. Attirant l'attention sur la plus grande partie des robots sur ses mains, Cormag a tordu l'Aegis en une demi-spin pour revisiter ses ennemis. Encore une fois, il battait à leurs CMF avec le 35 mm 'Shredder', servant à supprimer leur propre feu et se détacher à leur armure chaque fois que possible. La poursuite des bots a pris son péage, cependant, quand plusieurs obus lourds ont explosé la zone immédiate. Une explosion en particulier a frappé le sommet de la plate-forme plate d'Aegis, un tir qui aurait pu décapiter la plupart des autres MF. Le poste de pilotage de Cormag s'est ébranlé par des tirs d'obus et des alarmes, et alors que le pilote vétéran s'efforçait de garder le contrôle de la plate-forme, son CMF a continué d'être éperdu par les armes automatiques de l'ennemi. La paire de mitrailleuses sur le devant de la plate-forme d'Aegis a sauté vers l'avant, comme toutes les armes rotatives de Cormag ont répliqué contre les robots, les repoussant finalement. Alors que les Aegis s'éloignaient de nouveau, les bots essayèrent de redoubler d'efforts contre elle et contre les autres Revenants, seulement pour se retrouver interceptant un feu lourd de derrière. Ayant profité d'un bref angle mort que les robots faisaient derrière eux, Cormag tenta de frapper les machines ennemies avec son canon de 40 mm, le soi-disant « Snipe Cannon ». Les tirs à grande vitesse menaçaient de déchirer bien que l'armure moins renforcée du gang ; un pilote en particulier le plus proche de l'Aegis a trouvé son système de contrôle compromis par le feu lourd. "Tu tiens le coup?" Le pilote du Strigoi a demandé, et Cormag a grondé alors qu'il s'éloignait du feu du gang, "Plus ou moins. J'ai une grosse bosse qui va avoir besoin d'être bouffée plus tard." Il se référait, bien sûr, à la cicatrice noire chaude au sommet de la tête plate.

INTEREST! Tell me if it's too powerful and I'll nerf some things. -Pilot- Pilot Name: Cormag Barreton Age: 34 Gender: Male Personal Info: Barreton's the kind of hardened veteran one would expect in any war company, but one with a good amount of youth still left in him. He tends to be stoic and rather neutral regarding most arguments, but when it gets personal he gets brutal, especially in his Moblie Frame. Cormag has taken up experience with rifles prior to becoming a MF pilot, leading him to be proficient in combat in and out of his MF (sometimes both at the same time). He's become rather infamous among the mercenaries for devoting his expertise to the wide torso "flat-head" platform variants of Combat MFs, normally hard to master due to their unusual shape and poise as compared to the typical MF. Brief Bio: Born as the son to a high-ranking mercenary father and a kind-but-worried damsel mother, Cormag was inspired to take up after his father quickly. His mother knew that she couldn't really stop him nor his father, and so admitted to help him get to the point where he wanted to be. As soon as he was applicable, Cormag took up military training and made a very proficient rifleman, perhaps assisted in part by his father's side-hobby as a game hunter. Of course, when Cormag eventually found the opportunity to train in a Mobile Frame suited for combat, he jumped on the opportunity. Turns out it was for a sideways kind of mech as far as combat suitability was concerned, bearing a widened torso. Despite serving as a good weapons platform, this type of MF bore a fazed mobility due to the huge structural differences and altered centered of gravity, and is thus largely kept off of the front lines of the battlefields. Not one to be shot down, though, Cormag endeavored to defy those unwritten rules as best as he could. In spite of everyone who said he couldn't he actually did it, to some degree. While indeed not the most maneuverable machine, Cormag's skill and agility he could possess in the frame was unlike any other for that model. Link to Theme Song: Joel Nielson - Rules of Nature Personal Emblem: -Mobile Frame- Serial Number: S-C03 Designation/Nickname: Aegis Weaponry/Equipment: > Two 10mm rotary Machineguns on either side on the cockpit. General uses are against infantry and for suppression fire. > Gau-12 "Shredder" 35mm drum-fed rotary Autocannon with slight armor-piercing capability. Intended for use against heavy infantry, armored vehicles and most Mobile Frame armor. Mounted on right 'shoulder'. > A 5-tube silo of HEMP laser-guided missiles. Stored behind the left 'shoulder'. > A drum-loaded 40mm 'Snipe Cannon', named for it firing at high velocities akin to a huge sniper rifle. Built for precision attack, and capable of rapid fire for quick anti-tank purposes. Good for disabling typical Mobile Frames if aimed correctly. > Two 5-shot Flare launching systems on either side of the cockpit, farther than the guns. Deters missiles, hails assistance or causes mild smokescreens. > A set of large utility arms on the cockpit. Normally used to load/unload reserve supplies located in packs upon the legs, and also used in this case to subdue infantry or light vehicles at close range. > A huge Gauss-fired Pile Bunker loaded in the underbelly of the torso, beneath the cockpit. Capable of serious destructive power at close range, but unwieldy to use due to recoil on the entire frame and the inefficient rearming system. Not often used more than once in a combat. Other: This Mobile Frame model is ambiguated for urban purposes, but there is no real difference between this and the 'desert' version besides a differed camouflage painting. The specific frame wielded by Cormag is only modified in the use of its utility arms, and the installation of the Pile Bunker, implying this machine was meant to be a versatile combat frame, if it were not for the unfavorable design.

Hargh s'est balancé à travers les foules avec son bâton et son pot dans le remorquage. Il était à la recherche d'un bon endroit pour mettre en place'shop' afin qu'il puisse gagner assez d'argent pour acheter un peu plus de grub. Il se dirigea vers un agriculteur mâle qui avait établi un magasin et dont l'aspect n'était pas particulièrement riche et qui était assis à côté de son étalage. Pendant un moment, il s'assit parfaitement en positionnant le pot jusqu'à ce qu'il commence à frapper le bâton contre le pot aussi fort que possible et criant "AGGGHH-AGGGH-ARGGHH-ARGGHH" a crié à la petite créature comme il espérait attirer bientôt quelques clients.

Name: Hargh Age: 14 but in his specie's years he's about 21 or 22 Race: Harghsisis Gender: Male He ussually only wears his loin clothe. Backstory: 12 years ago a small creature showed up in the village of Fireside. No one knew who the little thing belonged to but he became a long running resident in the village getting by by banging sticks he found against a metal pot he managed to get his hands on. Most of the money he got was out of pity but a small margin of it was just for his upbeat attitude. Aspirations or Desires: To get the map that was bought from the merchant. Skills prior to adventuring: hitting stationary things with a small stick and smacking things with his hands... All three of them. Personality: Hargh isn't very bright, he isn't very smart but what he lacks in smarts he makes up for in kindness and the shear volume of his voice. He isn't much of a fighter but he hasn't had to fight anyone before.

Boulderclan Brimpelt regarda en voyant Amberstar quitter sa tanière, marchant lui passa avec ce qui aurait pu être vu comme une tristesse ou un regret, bien qu'il ne pouvait pas dire de quoi il s'agissait. Peut-être qu'elle n'avait pas assez bien dormi cette nuit-là, ou qu'elle s'était réveillée plus tôt pour réfléchir. De toute évidence, comme elle s'arrêtait au rebord utilisé par les dirigeants, elle avait un but à l'esprit. Elle s'est enfilée, en fourrure de gingembre, en train d'attraper la lumière de l'ensemble au centre de la caverne, a bondi et a atterri gracieusement sur sa plate-forme. Elle a appelé le clan, révélant ses intentions et ses réserves. Il était peut-être temps de prendre sa place dans le clan. Le Tom a rappelé les deux chats qui venaient d'entrer dans le tunnel comme Amberstar l'a appelé, en s'assurant qu'ils entendraient l'annonce, avant qu'il ne s'avance pour s'asseoir non loin de la corniche, en regardant le magnifique tabby orange she-cat. Elle choisissait son adjoint, enfin, et probablement lui-même. Starclan Brimpelt s'est ridiculisé. Il s'est toujours moqué de l'idée d'un groupe de chats qui ont dit aux vivants ce qu'ils devaient faire, les guidant. Il n'avait pas rêvé avec eux, et aucun des Rogues ne l'avait non plus. En fait, aucun d'entre eux n'avait entendu parler de Starclan avant d'avoir rejoint Boulderclan. Une idée stupide vraiment. La reine s'était reposée dans sa tanière, toute la place actuellement pour elle-même avec aucun autre chat-elle enceinte dans le clan, grandissant habitué aux nids. Il n'y avait pas de tirant d'eau, aucune légère brise des tunnels à l'intérieur de la pépinière comme il y avait eu dans la tanière des guerriers bien qu'elle ait dû admettre qu'il était agréable de dormir sans rouler dans quelqu'un pour une fois. Elle avait remarqué que plus elle allait loin dans sa grossesse, plus elle était agitée au milieu de la nuit, alors qu'elle était fatiguée pendant la journée. Elle avait l'intention de demander à Mudheart si c'était normal la veille, mais n'a pu trouver le Tom à aucun moment avant qu'elle ne finisse par s'endormir dans la tanière. Les plumes et les fourrures qui tapissaient le bosquet dans le sol en pierre étaient la douceur et la taille parfaites pour le joli grand Maine Coon she-cat. À la convocation de leur chef, Amberstar, Riversong se tint debout et sortit de la tanière. En sortant du petit tunnel qui servait de point d'entonnoir dans la grande caverne utilisée pour la pépinière, elle vit les autres chats du clan se rassembler sous la corniche d'où Amberstar parlait. Riversong devait admettre, que parmi les chats de clan qu'elle avait appris à connaître, le chef était l'un des plus forts et des plus courageux qu'elle ait jamais rencontré. Il y en avait peu qui voudraient avoir la responsabilité de diriger le clan, plutôt que de permettre à un Tom de le faire et d'avoir la liberté d'avoir des kits. Mais Amberstar n'a pas eu le temps pour de telles choses maintenant, surtout sans un adjoint. Il était bon qu'elle ait finalement pu prendre sa décision, la tension qui avait commencé à fondre alors que les chats se rendaient compte qu'ils n'auraient plus besoin de s'inquiéter de l'avenir du clan. Même si Amberstar devait passer, un député leur a donné l'espoir de la prochaine génération. Cliffclan Spottedblossom a touché Moonkit avec l'extrémité de sa queue, apaisant le jeune kit même lorsque Shadowpaw est entré dans la tanière. Les trois autres kits avaient commencé à se déplacer même après cela, et Sunkit, ayant roulé hors du lit est passé à Shadowpaw comme s'il était intimidant."Calme-toi Sunkit. Tu réveilleras tes soeurs." Elle a dit tout comme Palekit a levé la tête et bâillonné aussi. Deux des trois kits dormaient encore pendant que l'apprentie rentrait dans la tanière. Les souris ont senti une odeur incroyable, la tentant de se déplacer bien que les meules des kits devant elle l'aient gardée en place. "Merci Shadowpaw. L'entrée est un peu brouillée. Je ne veux pas que les kits capturent la Toux verte." Spottedblossom s'inquiétait sincèrement de tous les kits, Moonkit inclus. Assis, elle a dragué les kits de couchage en les réveillant pour qu'ils puissent sentir les souris aussi. Alors qu'elle s'ajustait dans la tanière, sa jambe gauche du dos sortait d'un angle maladroit. Sundapple n'avait pas été en mesure de guérir correctement ses jambes, et elle n'avait aucune chance de pouvoir marcher ou de se battre correctement à nouveau, bien qu'au moins elle puisse aider Moonkit à apprendre à marcher avec sa patte bâclée. Les jeunes apprentis mentors, Tundraclaw, ont alors fait son entrée, marchant dans la tanière pour voir si l'un d'eux avait besoin de quoi que ce soit. "Je pense que Shadowpaw t'a battu à la poursuite." Spottedblossom puré dans l'amusement, sachant que le Tom voulait elle bien qu'elle n'était pas prête pour un autre compagnon. Pas si tôt après la mort de Léo. Shadowpaw a toujours été un chat attentionné, une bonne influence sur ses kits et s'assurer qu'ils avaient tout ce dont ils avaient besoin. Elle soupçonnait qu'il était si gentil avec eux à cause de la mort de sa propre mère, et de la désertion de son père. Tundraclaw, d'autre part, était un dur et loyal, un bon exemple pour ses fils, bien qu'elle n'était pas encore sûre de sa fiabilité. Chêne Le Cat Médicament avait entendu Leafshade's yowl avant que Berrydream ait même commencé à courir vers sa tanière. La grande Maine Coon blanche a saisi ce qu'elle aurait d'abord besoin pour traiter la reine des chatons, et aider à l'accouchement. Atterrissant sur la clairière d'herbe, elle regarda jeter un coup d'œil pour voir si elle pouvait trouver le chat qu'elle recherchait à l'origine. Sa fille, Featherwhisker, n'était pas dans la clairière, mais ce n'était pas pour dire qu'elle ne dormait pas encore ou pas près du camp. "Si vous voulez aider Berrydream, j'ai besoin que vous trouviez Featherwhisker." Frostwhisker n'était pas proche de son propre chaton, mais ses filles avaient été les premières à l'aider quand quelqu'un d'autre l'avait fait car elle n'avait pas d'apprentie. Le chat de médecine a poussé son chemin dans la pépinière, posant le petit paquet d'herbes qu'elle avait apporté avec elle sur un préavis si court près de l'entrée. Juste à l'écart, Leafshade ne les botterait pas au cas où elle se fendrait, mais elle aurait besoin d'être aussi prudente pour ne pas se blesser elle-même ou les kits. "Je sais que vous n'avez pas fait cette Leafshade, mais même si vous n'avez pas votre corps sait ce qu'il doit faire. Ne résistez pas ou vous pourriez vous blesser vous-même et les kits." Frostwhisker a passé un bâton dur à la Reine, l'exhortant à mordre dessus. "Pour que tu ne mords pas ta langue." Elle a dit, se levant sur ses pattes du dos afin qu'elle puisse toucher le ventre de la Reine pour garder un œil sur ce qui se passait. Elle savait bien ce que les kits ressentaient, et aucun d'entre eux n'a été retourné de la mauvaise façon, bien qu'avec le début du dur labeur devant eux, elle ne savait pas si cela changerait. Espérons que Featherwhisker viendra bientôt. Foxtrot avait été à la chasse tôt ce matin, ajoutant à la nouvelle pile d'abattage avant qu'il soit allé visiter Frostwhisker et espérons aller patrouiller avec Featherwhiser, bien qu'il était de retour dans le clan avec un lapin trainant de ses mâchoires il a entendu la commotion. Leafshade allait accoucher? Il ne s'est pas précipité pour aider, puisqu'il savait assez bien du premier kitting de Lilystep que déranger Frostwhisker pendant qu'elle travaillait était une mauvaise idée. Si elle avait tendance à quelque chose d'aussi simple qu'une patte déchirée dans quelqu'un, alors elle pourrait parler et travailler en même temps, bien qu'un kitting était sérieux et exigeait tout son attention. Elle aurait besoin de Lilystep ou de Featherwhisker pour cela puisqu'elle n'avait pas d'apprenti, mais sans doute elle avait déjà envoyé pour l'un ou les deux. S'ils avaient besoin de lui, ils l'appelleraient. Pour l'instant, il resterait tout près. En marchant jusqu'à la pépinière, Foxtrot a posé le lapin frais non trop loin de l'entrée, sachant que le Cat Médicament saurait d'où il venait et pour qui il était. Ils seraient très bien à la fin très probablement. Peut-être qu'il aurait même un apprenti dans six lunes, pas qu'il en voulait vraiment. Les apprentis étaient beaucoup de travail dur qu'il ne voulait pas vraiment avoir à participer à. Bien sûr, si Featherwhisker en avait un, il l'aiderait à sa demande. Mais pas à moins qu'elle ne demande. Plus près de l'entrée, le chalumeau rouge s'assit et se mit à se coiffer la queue, en traînant les nœuds tout en trouvant un bûcher coincé dans sa fourrure. C'était si large et si touffu qu'il a toujours pris des bavures à l'intérieur. Achclan Icefire a épargné un coup d'œil à l'ancien Cat Médicament, se demandant pourquoi le chat-elle n'avait pas encore pris sa retraite de son poste pour que le Cat Médicament suivant puisse prendre sa place. Elle avait manifestement besoin d'autant de traitement que les anciens, et elle avait plus qu'assez servi son temps dans le clan. "Je le suis toujours." Elle a répliqué avec curiosité, ne sachant pas comment réagir au manoir occasionnel de son chat autour d'elle. Tout le monde hésitait à être autour d'elle, et encore moins à lui parler. Bien que Starclan aurait averti quelqu'un si elle était une mauvaise nouvelle de commencer par au lieu de permettre à Magamastar de l'emmener dans leur clan. "Je n'ai pas de raison de dormir dedans. Personne n'observait le camp." Lorsque le chef du clan est sorti, l'interrompant pendant qu'elle parlait au chat aîné, ses yeux de couleur se sont tournés vers lui, troublants alors qu'ils se rétrécissaient dans l'ennui. "Tu aurais dû demander quelque chose avant que Sootleaf ne m'accepte." Elle a dit à Magamstar, ignorant la différence dans leurs stations. Pour elle, elle ne s'était pas montrée digne de respect. Il était juste un kit de tête haute pour elle à l'époque, son junior en âge et moins qualifié puis elle. Il ne prédireait jamais quel comportement elle montrerait à un moment donné, pas même quand elle semblait contente. Même quand elle dormait. Clan-lumière Le chef regarda que son clan se rassemblait sous lui, regardant comme il attendait qu'il dise ce qu'il appelait. Il les regarda vers le bas, fier de la rapidité avec laquelle ils se rassemblèrent, de l'excitation et de la tension qui traversaient la foule. Le bout de sa queue secoua, regardant silencieusement jusqu'à ce que même les kits sortent de la pépinière, espérant ce qu'ils savaient ce qui allait arriver. « Le moment est venu de nommer de nouveaux apprentis au clan. La portée est devenue forte au cours des six dernières lunes. Un jour, ils feront de beaux guerriers." Jaggedstar a sauté de son rebord, atterrissant devant la foule où il se tenait, regardant en face d'eux comme s'il était égal à eux. Il avait presque l'air de sourire. Briarthorn, Yarrowkit et Nightkit. Soyez fier devant votre clan." Le chef fit signe aux petits kits à son égard, attendant patiemment qu'ils s'en aillent, ne parlant à nouveau que lorsque les trois d'entre eux se tenaient devant le reste du clan avec lui. "Nuitkit, au nom de Starclan, je t'appelle Nightpaw, apprenti à Briarthorn." Il s'est hissé à la trousse, maintenant apprenti, pour aller à son nouveau mentor et toucher le nez avec lui. Dans Lightclan, les apprentis n'avaient pas besoin de frapper l'épaule du leader, ce qui est un signe de faiblesse depuis plusieurs générations. Jaggedstar regarda alors Yarrowkit, conscient de l'apparence du reste du clan. Personne ne s'attendait à ce qu'il prenne un apprenti, mais il n'avait appelé aucun autre guerrier pour le kit. "Yarrowkit, au nom de Starclan, je t'appelle Yarrowpaw, apprenti à Jagdestar." Il regarda le nouvel apprenti, abaissant la tête afin que le chat-elle puisse toucher son nez à lui en acceptant son tutelage. Elle avait voulu Briarthorn, mais Nightpaw était sûre de bénéficier davantage de l'adjointe qu'elle ne le ferait. Il voulait la transformer en un guerrier qu'il pouvait faire confiance, et Nightpaw n'avait pas la colonne vertébrale pour devenir un leader dans aucun des clans. "Nous attendons de vous de grandes choses." Le kit dormait quand Jaggedstar a convoqué la réunion du clan, bousculé par sa sœur se levant et le poussant hors du nid afin de le réveiller. Il avait toujours été un gros dormeur quand il était debout pendant deux jours d'affilée, mais elle ne savait pas pour son entraînement nocturne. Il savait ce que Briarthorn avait fait pour elle, et au lieu de l'évoquer, il les regardait, mémorisant la façon dont ils se déplaçaient et la pratiquaient lui-même tard dans la nuit. Normalement, les autres chats dormaient au moment où il se faufilait hors de la crèche, loin de ses soeurs, et peu de temps avant l'aube quand il rampait dans le nid avec ses trousses. La nuit dernière avait été une telle nuit, et il avait pratiqué sa technique de chasse, sachant que cela se rapprochait de quand ils seraient nommés apprentis et donnés à un mentor. Il est tombé de la tanière, bâillant alors qu'il suivait ses soeurs, sa peau un désordre, bien que peu dans le clan se rende compte qu'il prêtait en fait une attention aiguë à ce qui se passait autour de lui. Son calme correspondait au jeune Blackkit, et ses yeux le même bleu que celui de Ragedpelt, mais personne ne savait dans quoi il allait grandir. Il était plus grand que toutes ses sœurs, mais maigre et lithique où ils avaient tous une certaine masse musculaire à cet âge. Ils feraient des guerriers forts et des mères fières, alors qu'il pourrait finir par un chat de médecine. Assis au milieu de la foule, il écouta Jaggedstar l'appeler, Yarrowkit et Briarthorn tout en s'élançant au niveau du clan lui-même. Ils obtenaient les deux meilleurs guerriers du clan pour les mentors?! Des attentes. Plus d'attentes. Le Tom est monté, regardant son mentor dans les yeux avec si peu de passion et d'excitation qu'il serait inquiet n'importe quel membre sain de ce clan, bien que la façon dont il marchait a fait paraître comme s'il avait pratiqué son équilibre. "Je ne décevrai pas." Rogues/Londres Le tom se réveilla au soleil se levant au-dessus du pinceau, la lumière filtrant dans la clairière qu'il avait dormi la nuit précédente. Il dormait en plein air, sous le ciel où Starclan pouvait le voir, espérant un signe ou un rêve pour lui faire savoir que Starclan était encore avec lui même s'il était un voyou. Il avait été envoyé en exil pour avoir voulu ce qui était le mieux pour le clan, poussé par son propre frère, mais juste le fait qu'il était vivant était un hommage à Jaggedstar. Il y avait encore de l'espoir et de la miséricorde en lui, quelque chose qu'il avait pensé avoir été écrasé de l'autre Tom depuis qu'ils étaient jeunes. Raggedpelt s'assit, entendant son estomac pousser pour la nourriture et envoya une prière rapide à Starclan avant de partir sur son trek quotidien pour trouver de la nourriture, s'entraîner et s'installer pour attendre que Briarthorn revienne avec ses nouvelles de Lightclan. Les kits étaient jeunes et impressionnables, et même Yarrowkit pourrait avoir l'esprit écrasé d'elle si Jaggedstar voulait lui faire ça.

Name Spottedblossom Gender She-cat Rank Queen Clan Cliffclan Personality Spottedblossom is soft-spoken and quiet, often hesitant to speak her mind around strangers. She isn't shy exactly, just careful and polite, respectful of others opinions. In truth, she's a little bit of a push over and doesn't like to burden others even though she isn't capable of defending herself and her kits right now. Relationships Kits (four) | History Spottedblossom used to be a stray cat in a small town not far from the valley, living peacefully with most of the cats there since they all looked out for each other. That was up until another, larger and meaner cat started collecting the scummiest of the cats he could and driving out - or killing - the calm cats of town. They took the hunting places familiar to them, killed anyone who got in there way and went as far as killing and eating a pair of twolegs who had come to Spottedblossom's rescue. The she-cat managed to get away, at the risk of her mate's life, and found the valley with a friend who had avoided clan territory to find a place to stay. Spottedblossom, who was heavily pregnant at the time, needed to find a place safe for her to kit, but there was nowhere outside of clan territory. She took the risk and is glad to this day she did. She found an old rabbit hole, long abandoned and kitted there, alone until another cat came to her. The she-cat ended up breaking his hip kitting in such dangerous conditions, but managed to survive with all of her kits healthy and safe. She woke up with two cats pressed to her sides, keeping herself and the kits warm, and a rabbit ready for her to eat. When she was safe to travel she was welcomed into the clan, and wants to do her part to provide. Other Cannot fight properly because of the old injury | Intends to either stay a Queen, or help the Medicine Cat when she doesn't have kits Duskkit, Sunkit, Dapplekit, Palekit COLOR CODE Name Frostwhisker Gender She-cat Rank Medicine Cat Clan Oakclan Personality Frostwhisker is a friendly and motherly cat, caring and without boundaries when it comes to cats in need. She dislikes suffering and will willingly step into the middle of a fight if she must to make it stop. Overprotective and quite outspoken when she's truly passionate about something, she is also a motivated leader. Relationships Oakstar - mates | Kits - Featherwhisker; Lillystep; Firelight; | Littermates - has two, make one if you want | History Frostwhisker was born to a healthy housecat who had recently run aware from her Two-legs to live in the wild with her mate. Her and her two littermates grew up learning how to hunt and fight for themselves not far from the valley that now houses the two clans. She was always close to her littermates, and the three of them eventually wandered off on their own, though they came back to where they knew their parents would be when she was going to kit for the first time. She began having her dreams in the hard winter when her family group was having a hard time surviving. That was when she knew she needed to gather more cats together. Other Is deaf on the left side | Currently pregnant with her second litter | Plans to cultivate herbs that grow near camp COLOR CODE Name Brimpelt Gender Tom Rank Veteran Warrior Clan Boulderclan Personality Tough and stubborn, Brimpelt has high expectations of his warriors and apprentices. As a hard headed, and bristle pelted individual he's not the type to trust others with much more than meaningless tasks unless they've proven themselves. He dislikes weakness in all it's forms - including kittypet roots. It takes a long time for him to warm up to anybody and often refuses to admit it, but he does act slightly different when he's with those he's comfortable with. Relationships - best friend and closest confident | Flower - mate (formerly; now deceased) History Brimpelt - formerly known as Brimm - was once the leader of a small band of rogues. These rogues were never fond of weakness, including kittypets and Two-legs, and never accepted handouts. The group had once been known as the most notorious in the valley and none of them shied away from spilling weakling blood. This band of rogues is what became much of Boulderclans main fighting force after the formation of, though some moved off to better hunting grounds over the mountains. Brim himself had grown alone in the mountains, becoming a cruel and ruthless leader. Some say that love changes you, and when the tom met Flower he did change, but he did not become the kind cat others would hope for. He was more tolerant, but a charismatic leader. Flower died fighting against the formation of the clans, convinced they should be able to make their own if they must, but her death brought him to his knees long enough to begin his plot. Complete take over and elimination of Boulderclan before he and his followers would move on. Other COLOR CODE Name Jaggedstar Gender Tom Rank Leader Clan Lightclan Personality This leader is cunning and ruthless, powerful and intimidating. He embodies what it is that Lightclan stands for; strength and order. Those who follow his orders are rewarded, not just with first rights to food, but status and patrols of their own. He is, of course, careful to maintain his own power over them. Much of his own clan either fears him, or idolizes him. He is a leader, but not a kind one. The weak he will root out and cast away in shame, not giving them the glory of a death by combat. Relationships (insert name) - mate and confident | Raggedpelt - litter mate History As a kit, Jaggedstar had been named Blackkit by his mother, and his brother Skykit, had been the only two of their litter to survive being birthed. Their mother had died when they were apprentices, in a nasty fight with a dog, in which she was protecting the two of them. Their leader called it a humiliation to them, but Skykit knew it was a kindness. Blackkit on the other hand felt nothing about his mothers sacrifice. This, you could say, was the defining moment for the two apprentices. They learned, trained every day. They fought off a dog together, patrolled together. But Blackpaw never felt bad for killing a weaker cat. He didn't think twice about letting the losing warrior bleed out alone for some other cat to find. This brutality wasn't actively seen by his clan, but by the time him and his brother had come close to becoming warriors, Skypaw confronted him on it. Of all cats, his brother had to understand what Lightclan was doing was wrong, right? Wrong. The night that Skypaw went out to hunt with Blackpaw was the night that the two fought, one trying desperately to save his own life while the other tore him apart. They were equally matched. Both found themselves in the Medicine Cat Den two days later, having slept or didn't remember the entire time. The two were cheered for their feriosity, their determination and neither said a thing about what really happened out there. Jaggedscar and Raggedpelt, scarred only by one another. Quickly they rose in the ranks, one naturally while the other wanted to reform the clan by becoming leader. Jaggedstar won in the end, keeping his brother as one of his most trusted warriors; until his betrayal. Raggedpelt spoke out against him, turned several cats against the clans values and that was the one thing that Jaggedstar could not stand. He, personally, fought several of the warriors defending Raggedpelt, and won, just to get to his brother. His claws pricked his brothers throat, the brown tom looking up at him with sky blue eyes. "Get out. Show your face on clan territory again and I'll kill you myself." Other Has a twisted scar running down his left side | | Name Featherwhisker Gender She-cat Rank Warrior Clan Oakclan Personality Like her mother, Featherwhisker is willing to protect anyone who needs it though she is not as gentle and caring as the medicine cat. She is rebellious in nature, though through nurture she has developed a deep respect for those who have proven themselves to her. She is passionate and speaks out when she feels something needs to be said - even against orders of silence. She does not care for the public opinion if it isn't right and unafraid to be who she is around other cats. Rarely will she instigate a fight, but she is not afraid to finish it if she must. Relationships Frostwhisker & Oakstar - parents | Lillypelt & Firelight - littermates | History Featherwhisker and her littermates were born before the winter that drove them to near starvation, long enough for her to have learned how to hunt and fight but she knew she wouldn't live long in that winter. She was granted her warrior name by her mother not long after the clans had formed, taking it with pride as she found a new purpose to her life. Other COLOR CODE Name Foxtrot Gender Tom Rank Warrior Clan Oakclan Personality Foxtrot is a joking individual who enjoys having fun and is always the first to attempt to lighten a rather serious atmosphere with a really bad joke. Pranks were never his specialty, but humor was always right up his alley. It isn't certain whether or not the tom is capable of any real seriousness with his fun-loving and carefree nature. He's also rather oblivious to affection, and others feelings towards his joking manor - that or he doesn't care enough to care. Who knows? Relationships N/A as of yet History Before becoming part of Oakclan, Foxtrot was the outside cat of a twoleg home down the thunderpath. He was a stray before that, and rarely slept inside of the house, so the couple had never gone looking for him as far as he could tell. One day he walked too far and ended up getting hit by a small monster. Luck for him, Frostwhisker and Featherwhisker had been nearby and heard him calling for help. He was taken into the clan and pledged to repay the two she-cats for what they did for him that day. Other Has a long scar down right rear leg | Back legs get stiff on damp days COLOUR CODE Name Riversong Gender She-cat Rank Warrior - Queen Clan Boulderclan Personality Riversong is far from the gentle and caring mother that most would expect from a pregnant queen. Instead she is assertive and scolding, protective and perfectly willing to jump into a fight if she need be. She despises idiocy and encourages bravery - even though the traits may well be one in the same. Relationships - mate | History Before the arrival of the clans, Riversong had been part of a group of loners who frequented the mountains. She was unaware of the formation of the clans until they came to recruit or disband the group of loners, seeing as she was already pregnant at the time, her mate and her joined the clan. Other COLOR CODE Name Icefire Gender She-cat Clan Ashclan Rank Warrior Personality Icefire is much like her name hints, she is an ever changing constant. She's not moody, though she isn't stable in emotional endevours. At times she is plagued by self doubt, often causing her to stop eating, and on other days she's as bright as newleaf sunshine. Her mood changed at the turn of a rabbits foot, constant in few things. The she-cat is loyal to her clan, though not to the cats within it. She's not one to keep secrets from the deputy and leader if there is a chance it could endanger the rest of the clan. She'll allow those capable to protect themselves without worry, and never frets about something she shouldn't. Relationships History This she-cat was born outside of Ashclan, hailing from the hills not far from Cliffclan territory. It was a small place, a good clan not far from the other clans that they lived. It was long after she'd become a warrior that the end came to them and she was seperated from the other survivors. She found her way to Ashclan. Name Nightkit Gender Tom Rank Kit Clan Lightclan Personality Nightkit is a quiet and cunning tom, the opposite of his sisters. Calm, cold and closed to the people around him. He's a very effective spy, and a very observative individual. He didn't bond well with his sisters as much as he did with others in the clan. Relationships Littermates - Starkit, Yarrowkit & Harekit | Parents - Willowfang & Oliveclaw | History Other Name Raggedpelt Gender Tom Rank Deputy - Former Clan Lightclan - Former Personality Raggedpelt, once a loyal and determined warrior, friendly and well worded and placed among friends, now knows the pain of loneliness. Solitude has turned this tom into an untrusting and morbid animal. He refuses to follow a strangers word, and longs again for the company of a clan. He is a devoted cat, and cares more for the safety of others then his own life. Now, when seen by strangers he is not friendly in first interaction, instead unsure and hostile. He does not expect the best of cats anymore, only the worst, in his daily battles for survival. Relationships Jaggedstar - litermate History Raggedpelt, formerly Skykit and Skypaw, the littermate of Lightclan's current leader Jaggedstar, was born destined for greatness. He felt the hurt of his mothers death, longed for his brothers company and wondered why the clan itself was so brutally cruel to those who deemed them weak. He worried over it, often thinking keeping him up at night though he was never far from his brothers side. The two were insperable, even the day that Skypaw first spoke to Blackpaw about the clans morals. The fight nearly cost him his life, and his sanity, and the two never spoke of it again as they rose the ranks in the clan. Blackpaw became Jaggedstar, Skypaw to Raggedpelt - declared Deputy by his own brother against the odds. His betrayal and exile was the beginning of his hardships. He left then and there, nothing from the Medicine Cat and leaving his apprentice behind, the cat being passed on to the next warrior. There was nothing he could do much leave clan territory or risk getting even more cats killed. Briartorn had managed not to be caught by Jaggedstar, only to survive in a place where cats should not suffer. Ragedpelt left, finding the abandoned camp of the clan they're former leader had destroyed. That was where he became his exile, sleeping alone in an empty camp. Time began to change him, turn him into something closer to his brother than himself. It was not something he loved. It is not something he enjoys. But at this point in time he needs to think of his own survival. Other Name Sundapple Gender Tom Rank Medicine Cat Clan Cliffclan Personality Relationships History Other

Hargh sourit beaucoup comme le seul client lui donnait de la pièce et comme on lui avait promis le sac de pommes de terre par le propriétaire de l'étalage, il fit une pompe à poing de la main de la tête et se mit à crier et à frapper le pot plus vigoureusement qu'auparavant. Il jouait si fort qu'il a seulement remarqué que l'homme serpent passait et qu'il commençait à parler au propriétaire de l'étagère. Hargh a arrêté de frapper son pot et s'est levé. Il est passé à l'étalage et s'est tenu à côté de l'homme serpent en le regardant avec un visage qui ne pouvait être décrit que comme un visage de détermination ou de constipation, peu importe ce que cela signifiait, il aurait encore été troublant pour la plupart des gens de voir le petit homme à la main à partir de vous.

Name: Hargh Age: 14 but in his specie's years he's about 21 or 22 Race: Harghsisis Gender: Male He ussually only wears his loin clothe. Backstory: 12 years ago a small creature showed up in the village of Fireside. No one knew who the little thing belonged to but he became a long running resident in the village getting by by banging sticks he found against a metal pot he managed to get his hands on. Most of the money he got was out of pity but a small margin of it was just for his upbeat attitude. Aspirations or Desires: To get the map that was bought from the merchant. Skills prior to adventuring: hitting stationary things with a small stick and smacking things with his hands... All three of them. Personality: Hargh isn't very bright, he isn't very smart but what he lacks in smarts he makes up for in kindness and the shear volume of his voice. He isn't much of a fighter but he hasn't had to fight anyone before.

Marchands esquissés L'homme se tourna vers Arthur, ses yeux tournèrent d'un vert doux alors qu'il s'écriait avec joie: "Oui! Un homme striant pour aller sur un aventure! Pour un plan de handsome, j'aurais voulu que vous payez... hhnghnnhhnnnnn" le marchand a murmuré le dernier morceau, en fait écrire sur son propre manteau un nombre élevé de zéros. Comme dans... un googlplex. "HIGHHHEST BIDDER le prend, à moins que vous ne souhaitiez payer ce million!" Il s'exclame une fois de plus, montrant fièrement le nombre de zéros HEAPING... et genre, un trois près du milieu, puis un à la fin. Inutile de dire que le marchand était un peu à l'écart de son rocker en termes de prix. Rook Il secoua les yeux en entendant les cris et les coups forts, se jetant presque sur le dos alors qu'il se tournait vers son côté. C'était juste Hargh. Juste avant que Rook ne pense à un moyen de lui demander d'arrêter... il avait un client! Comme si quelqu'un avait vu les deux cas de charité à la barre et ne pouvait pas s'empêcher d'acheter un chou à Rook, et déposer quelques pièces pour Hargh. En ce qui concerne le petit gars, Rook a ri et a dit: "Bon travail! Continue de faire ça, et je te laisserai en prendre quelques-uns!" Il a dit, tenant un grand sac de pommes de terre. Hey, les affaires de charité étaient mieux que pas d'affaires.

Name: Rook Age: 19 Race: Tuljin Gender: Male Appearance: Stands at about 3ft. 4 inches, and his skin is a pale slate. Backstory: Nobody really knows where the little Tuljin came from, and not too many really cared. Adopted by a farmer and his wife, he's carried on taking care of the farm and fields after the kindly foster parents passed away, though it HAS been difficult. The soil around Fireside Canyon is poor, and the townsfolk tend to be well off enough that they can buy produce from out of town. Aspirations or Desires: To go out and see the world for what it truly is, and maybe find out where he really comes from. That and he's likely to be out of a job in a year or two. Skills prior to adventuring: Plowing fields, running, growing, and he's been told that he's a delightful masseuse. Personality: Honest, but somewhat cowardly, Tuljin is loyal to a fault, that fault being that he's a damn chicken. His racial inclination to mischief seems to be all but lost on him, as he actively tries to make himself useful, often bumbling it up and causing a bigger problem. He always means well, but doesn't always do well. Also, he has a knack for seeing if someone is telling the truth.

Juste un autre jour à Fireside... Ah, côté feu. La petite ville du côté de la falaise. C'est là, mes amis, que commence notre histoire. Techniquement, ce n'est pas le cas, mais vous avez tous entendu les histoires des héros Vito, Wilhelm, et de leurs successeurs Ken et Mik. Mais, la pensée du trésor que les quatre avaient cherché a été dans l'esprit de tous, comme personne ne l'a jamais prétendu. Personne ne sait même si elle existe, sauf les aventuriers audacieux qui le prétendent. Mais rien de tout cela n'est important pour le moment, alors que le nouveau jour se brise et que le marché prend vie, l'agitation et l'agitation habituelles de la ville balayant la ruse des acheteurs au fur et à mesure qu'ils achètent leurs produits de première nécessité. Mais aujourd'hui, il y a un marchand étranger parmi la foule. Un homme vêtu d'un manteau qui aurait l'air d'envelopper un tas de pommes de terre ensemble. Son visage était complètement brouillé de vue sous sa capuche, sauf pour les yeux bleus pâles qui semblaient dépourvus de tout pupille ou scilera, juste un grand iris bleu. En criant et en tenant une carte qui semble être tenue ensemble seulement par ruban adhésif, l'homme l'onde comme s'il était un prédicateur. "YES IL EST INDÉMÉ JE SUIS! LE TRASURE GENUINE DES HEURES, LA HORDE DES CHAMPIONS, LA THÈME DES THÈMES! LE CARTE DES GRANDS HEROES A ÉTÉ MEN ET MIK! L'un d'eux et l'autre d'eux! Pour aujourd'hui seulement et pour toujours, je vais faire partie du plan à la plus haute fille! LES GRANDS RICHES, LE TRÉSOR GLORIEUX! Venez, venez, il y a plus à ce plan que d'avoir l'œil!" e projette, assez fort pour être entendu partout sur le marché. Rook l'agriculteur S'attaquant à porter la lourde charge de sa maigre récolte dans la timonerie derrière lui, Rook marcha avec sa charrue fermière confiante dans ses mains, impatient de vendre ses marchandises et de retourner labourer pour la prochaine récolte. À la main. Pas le petit gars le plus riche du village par un long coup, il transpirait et gémissait alors qu'il tirait sa charrette à son stand de ring-ding et tout simplement regardé l'homme étrange de loin, rêveur de la gloire que la carte pouvait mener à. Si seulement il n'était pas si pauvre... et sans épines... et effrayé par les araignées. Il était presque sûr qu'un aventurier qui passait a mentionné des araignées aussi grandes qu'une enclume pour lui. La pensée de cela a envoyé un frisson dans sa colonne vertébrale, et l'a conduit à ôter avec crainte son chapeau, le tapotant vers le bas et regardant à l'intérieur. "Sûre." Il s'est contenté de lui donner sa casquette et de lui filer les doigts en attendant que quelqu'un achète ses produits locaux.

Name: Rook Age: 19 Race: Tuljin Gender: Male Appearance: Stands at about 3ft. 4 inches, and his skin is a pale slate. Backstory: Nobody really knows where the little Tuljin came from, and not too many really cared. Adopted by a farmer and his wife, he's carried on taking care of the farm and fields after the kindly foster parents passed away, though it HAS been difficult. The soil around Fireside Canyon is poor, and the townsfolk tend to be well off enough that they can buy produce from out of town. Aspirations or Desires: To go out and see the world for what it truly is, and maybe find out where he really comes from. That and he's likely to be out of a job in a year or two. Skills prior to adventuring: Plowing fields, running, growing, and he's been told that he's a delightful masseuse. Personality: Honest, but somewhat cowardly, Tuljin is loyal to a fault, that fault being that he's a damn chicken. His racial inclination to mischief seems to be all but lost on him, as he actively tries to make himself useful, often bumbling it up and causing a bigger problem. He always means well, but doesn't always do well. Also, he has a knack for seeing if someone is telling the truth.

Hargh a détourné son regard vers le propriétaire du magasin un moment ou deux quand on lui a demandé s'il voulait somthing mais a affronté le serpent une fois de plus sans un mot. Il regarda l'homme serpent pendant une minute ou deux alors qu'il se faisait de plus en plus arnaque, puis, en tournant la tête, il retourna à son pot et s'assit, regardant toujours le Naga. Hargh a commencé à frapper lentement et fort sur le pot tout en gardant son regard sur la moitié serpent créature demi-homme.

Name: Hargh Age: 14 but in his specie's years he's about 21 or 22 Race: Harghsisis Gender: Male He ussually only wears his loin clothe. Backstory: 12 years ago a small creature showed up in the village of Fireside. No one knew who the little thing belonged to but he became a long running resident in the village getting by by banging sticks he found against a metal pot he managed to get his hands on. Most of the money he got was out of pity but a small margin of it was just for his upbeat attitude. Aspirations or Desires: To get the map that was bought from the merchant. Skills prior to adventuring: hitting stationary things with a small stick and smacking things with his hands... All three of them. Personality: Hargh isn't very bright, he isn't very smart but what he lacks in smarts he makes up for in kindness and the shear volume of his voice. He isn't much of a fighter but he hasn't had to fight anyone before.

Ok, calme-toi maintenant et ça devrait guérir dans quelques jours, a dit Vella après avoir fini de traiter et de panser la blessure d'une personne. "Merci d'avoir fait cela," a dit le patient, tenant une poche de pièces de monnaie. "Voici le paiement." En prenant le sac et en le plaçant dans son sac, elle a quitté la petite maison, ne retournant qu'une seule fois pour dire : "Prenez soin maintenant." Elle a souri. Une autre vie traitée avec bonté et respect. Si seulement tout le monde pouvait être traité comme ça. Hélas, le monde n'est pas comme ça. Oh, et bien. Plaçant sa capuche sur sa tête, elle marchait le long du chemin jusqu'à l'endroit où elle irait. Au fur et à mesure qu'elle marchait, elle rencontrait un peu d'agitation. Elle se tourna pour regarder, et trouva qu'il s'agissait d'une sorte de carte. De grandes aventures et de grandes richesses ont été promises, mais Vella a appris il y a longtemps à ne pas faire confiance aux contes d'enfants aussi stupides. Elle se demandait quand même qui serait assez bête pour aller chercher une telle chose. De plus, ce prix ridiculement scandaleux... Seul un idiot l'envisagerait. Maintenant qu'elle y a réfléchi, il se peut que cet idiot ait besoin d'aide. Elle avait juré d'aider ceux qui méritaient d'être dans le besoin, et c'est peut-être l'une de ces occasions.

Name: Vella Seren Age: 20 Race: Half-elf Gender: Female Backstory: Being a half breed, and a female at that, Vella had to go through all sorts of prejudices to make her way in life. Fortunately for her, she was able to become a healer's apprentice and learned skills like how to treat wounds and cure illnesses. Now she lends her services to those who need it, helping people one at a time. Aspirations or Desires: To help whoever is in need of help. Skills prior to adventuring: Medical knowledge. Cooking. Personality: Always helpful to whoever needs help. However, she will also always judge if that person deserves that help. Needless to say, don't get on her bad side.

Rook Shuddering comme Amon est venu à son stand, Rook a immédiatement pensé à savoir s'il avait payé les frais pour l'installation de boutique. Il était certain qu'il l'avait fait. Bien sûr qu'il l'a fait. Mais juste la vue d'Amon et de sa famille a envoyé des frissons dans sa colonne vertébrale; probablement parce qu'il avait peur de... bien... la plupart des choses en général, mais les serpents étaient là-haut. Ses peurs ont été frappées pure bien qu'une fois l'homme a donné à son petit annonceur des pièces de monnaie et payé en or pour une pomme de terre. Avec des mains tremblantes, Rook ramasse la pièce d'or et la met dans son coffre-fort, donnant à Amon un arc respectueux de sa tête. Levant les yeux, il a été surpris que la naga reste coincée. Personne n'est jamais resté pour parler oisivement avec Rook, la plupart avaient probablement peur qu'il gâche leur journée avec ses manières Tuljin-y. Donc, naturellement, il était ravi que l'un des citadins les plus influents lui posait une question. En ajustant son chapeau, Rook a expliqué : « Eh bien, M. Shukal, il dit que la carte mène au trésor et aux choses brillantes, beaucoup d'autres choses agréables aussi... dit que c'était la carte de Ken et Mik. Pensez-vous que c'est réel?" En regardant de son côté, il a vu que Hargh avait déménagé et était maintenant passé par Amon. Levant la tête, il demanda: "Quelque chose qui vous trouble?

Name: Rook Age: 19 Race: Tuljin Gender: Male Appearance: Stands at about 3ft. 4 inches, and his skin is a pale slate. Backstory: Nobody really knows where the little Tuljin came from, and not too many really cared. Adopted by a farmer and his wife, he's carried on taking care of the farm and fields after the kindly foster parents passed away, though it HAS been difficult. The soil around Fireside Canyon is poor, and the townsfolk tend to be well off enough that they can buy produce from out of town. Aspirations or Desires: To go out and see the world for what it truly is, and maybe find out where he really comes from. That and he's likely to be out of a job in a year or two. Skills prior to adventuring: Plowing fields, running, growing, and he's been told that he's a delightful masseuse. Personality: Honest, but somewhat cowardly, Tuljin is loyal to a fault, that fault being that he's a damn chicken. His racial inclination to mischief seems to be all but lost on him, as he actively tries to make himself useful, often bumbling it up and causing a bigger problem. He always means well, but doesn't always do well. Also, he has a knack for seeing if someone is telling the truth.

Hargh a cessé de frapper son pot et s'est tenu debout il a regardé loin de l'homme serpent et détourné ses yeux vers la carte. Soudain les yeux de Hargh illuminèrent le feu du dragon de vie et il se ballotta directement vers le marchand. Hargh regarda le marchand pendant un moment avec ses yeux aussi larges que des soucoupes et, lentement et shakilly, offrit son pot au marchand puis, de l'autre main, il offrit son bâton au marchand, lui offrant les deux seuls articles qui lui étaient utiles.

Name: Hargh Age: 14 but in his specie's years he's about 21 or 22 Race: Harghsisis Gender: Male He ussually only wears his loin clothe. Backstory: 12 years ago a small creature showed up in the village of Fireside. No one knew who the little thing belonged to but he became a long running resident in the village getting by by banging sticks he found against a metal pot he managed to get his hands on. Most of the money he got was out of pity but a small margin of it was just for his upbeat attitude. Aspirations or Desires: To get the map that was bought from the merchant. Skills prior to adventuring: hitting stationary things with a small stick and smacking things with his hands... All three of them. Personality: Hargh isn't very bright, he isn't very smart but what he lacks in smarts he makes up for in kindness and the shear volume of his voice. He isn't much of a fighter but he hasn't had to fight anyone before.

Arthur a regardé le prix scandaleusement élevé que le marchand lui a donné pour la carte. "Je, euh, pense que je vais essayer ma chance d'enchérir. Une pièce, s'il vous plaît." Arthur s'est vite retourné, regardant les gens autour de lui. Il espérait à tout être cosmique du destin qui existait, que personne ne s'intéresserait à la carte. Ses yeux suppliaient pratiquement personne d'aller de l'avant. Oh, s'il te plaît. Oh, s'il te plaît. Oh, s'il te plaît. Ne laissez personne m'enchérir. J'ai besoin de ça. Son expression changea rapidement à celle de la fureur à mesure que quelques acheteurs proches s'approchèrent. Je le jure sur toutes les belles femmes du monde si vous y pensez, je vais tirer votre propre bras et le pousser dans votre gorge. Sa nouvelle expression a en fait obtenu quelques-uns des clients qui auraient été en retrait, tandis que le reste a donné l'idée d'acheter la carte, peut-être faux, quelques instants de considération.

Name: Arthur Gray Age: 21 Race: Boring ass human Gender: Male Backstory: Arthur has lived in Fireside all his life. Ever since he was young, he's been trying to attract women... and has always fallen short of success. He's tried sports, music, poetry, etc. and has never actually been able to pick up anyone of the opposite gender. Aspirations or Desires: To score tons of chicks. Skills prior to adventuring: Mediocre skill at lute, thinks he can write poetry, and somewhat good at dodging and throwing... dodge balls. Personality: Arthur is an extreme optimist. If he ever gets sad or angry, just wait about ten seconds and he should be back to his usual chipper mood.

Amon a laissé un soupir de soulagement alors qu'il échappait aux affections étouffantes de sa mère, juste après avoir évité de justesse ses tentatives de le mettre en place avec un nouveau médecin faisant jaillir les derniers « Marvels de la médecine ». Bien qu'elle sache qu'elle a tout fait avec amour à l'esprit, Amon était heureux de sentir ses écailles battre une retraite rapide à travers les rues vers sa maison loin de chez lui, s'imprégnant des rayons du soleil battant son dos le réveillant de sa léthargie. Il respirait profondément alors qu'il entrait sur le marché, écoutant la musique de buisness, les vendeurs semblaient avoir déjà commencé la pièce quotidienne, changeant toujours mais toujours constant. Un nouveau marchand semblait rassembler toute la foule, bien que ce soit à cause de son article ou de son...chiffre de vente qui devait être déterminé, bien que l'homme ait certainement eu des théâtres, les antiques de l'homme dessinant un chanfrein d'Amon alors qu'il regardait le spectacle, toujours pas sûr de ce qui était vendu. Alors qu'il tentait de déterminer ce qui était vendu, seulement en étant capable de comprendre que c'était une carte à quelque chose, et un prix impie qui le faisait grignoter à la vente bâclée, un nouveau ruckus a attiré son attention, tournant la tête pour voir l'étrange créature se défoncer sur ce qui ressemblait à un pot à côté de Rook, un marchand qu'il a reconnu de quelques réunions de guilde, bien qu'il avait à peine fait les frais de guilde cette année, mais son étalage semblait faire un peu de bruit alors peut-être sa chance s'était tournée. Il s'est rendu au stand, jetant quelques cuivres à l'étrange créature de la main, dans l'espoir que, s'il ne s'arrêtait pas, il pourrait encore battre le pot avec moins d'enthousiasme. Si l'on regarde la sélection avant d'attraper l'un des meilleurs veggies, de jeter le petit garçon une grande pièce d'or pour l'objet et de se faire enrouler à côté de lui, gesticulant vers le marchand de cartes, " semble beaucoup d'ennuis pour un morceau de papier, ce qui a les masses pliables dans une frénésie cette fois-ci ", demanda-t-il avec un sourire, accrochant son chapeau au coin de l'étalage alors qu'il se mordait mal dans sa pomme de terre achetée récemment, grimaçant le goût de la pomme de terre crue et rangant discrètement la pomme de terre.

Name:Amon Shukal Age: 23 Race: Naga Gender: Male Backstory: Amon comes from a noble family of merchants in Fireside, his father being the head of the merchant's guild there and controlling much of the flow of goods. Amon, sixteenth sibling of sixteen siblings, had been born weak and sick in body, and though he had quickly become stronger and healthy as he aged, his family had always treated him as some fragile youngling, his father looking at him with disdain for his perceived weakness and his mother coddling him, not even allowing him to leave the city. But with his father nearing old age, the time quickly approaches to name a successor, and Amon is keeping his eyes peeled for anything that may gain him favor. Aspirations or Desires: Dreams of finding a treasure or relic that he can use to surpass his brothers and sisters in status, proving himself to be worthy of taking over the families merchant guild. Skills prior to adventure: Is an excellent shopper, always able to spot a deal and willing to haggle till the sun goes down. This may lead him to buy things he doesn't need on the basis of pride. This also makes him a great salesman, able to talk up a product, although this has gotten him in trouble when the customers have realized they've been had. Personality: A rather calm and patient fellow, gained from years of placating his easily excitable mother. Has a silver tongue that gets him into trouble about as often as it gets him out of it. Is touchy about anyone outside his family insinuating he is to weak to do something.

Vella regarda que la guerre des enchères se poursuivait. Jusqu'à présent, ça n'était pas très haut. Un modeste 5 pièces. Il y avait même une chose étrange de créature à la main qui semblait essayer de faire une offre en utilisant un pot et un bâton pour la monnaie. Elle a réfléchi un moment, se demandant si elle pouvait l'obtenir et ensuite le vendre à un pauvre suceur pour un peu de profit. Même si la carte était légale et qu'il y avait en effet un trésor à la fin de celle-ci, elle n'avait ni besoin ni envie de la suivre. Et elle vient juste d'être payée pour un travail. Pas comme si elle avait beaucoup à dépenser sur l'argent en plus des herbes et de la nourriture et quoi que ce soit. -- 10 pièces, dit Vella, élevant sa voix pour la rendre audible.

Name: Vella Seren Age: 20 Race: Half-elf Gender: Female Backstory: Being a half breed, and a female at that, Vella had to go through all sorts of prejudices to make her way in life. Fortunately for her, she was able to become a healer's apprentice and learned skills like how to treat wounds and cure illnesses. Now she lends her services to those who need it, helping people one at a time. Aspirations or Desires: To help whoever is in need of help. Skills prior to adventuring: Medical knowledge. Cooking. Personality: Always helpful to whoever needs help. However, she will also always judge if that person deserves that help. Needless to say, don't get on her bad side.

Amon regarda l'étrange créature pendant un moment, ne sachant pas comment réagir à ses étranges antiques, mais son attention fut rapidement captée alors que les enchères semblaient commencer, il ne devait pas s'inquiéter du barde, Amon connaissait à peine de lui, et s'il n'avait pas encore fait un nom pour lui-même en tant qu'interprète, Amon douta qu'il eût mis trop d'opposition. Il a cependant commencé à s'inquiéter alors que le marchand de poterie se cognait dedans. Si un marchand a commencé à soumissionner, d'autres propriétaires de stand peuvent encore sentir une opportunité, et il pourrait rapidement boule de neige de là. Il soupira alors qu'il s'empare de son chapeau de l'étalage et l'enfile, cligne à Rook avant de se lever sur ses bobines, se mettant un bon pied au-dessus des autres dans la foule et soulevant son chapeau pour attirer l'attention des marchands, ornant un faux bravado, « Ha, je vois ses deux pièces et offre mes cinq à leur place, » cria-t-il en faisant un peu de spectacle. C'était un peu une tactique cruelle qu'il savait, sauter l'offre comme ça, mais il savait que ces guerres d'enchères pourraient mal tourner si vous ne pouviez pas effrayer la compétition plus tôt.

Name:Amon Shukal Age: 23 Race: Naga Gender: Male Backstory: Amon comes from a noble family of merchants in Fireside, his father being the head of the merchant's guild there and controlling much of the flow of goods. Amon, sixteenth sibling of sixteen siblings, had been born weak and sick in body, and though he had quickly become stronger and healthy as he aged, his family had always treated him as some fragile youngling, his father looking at him with disdain for his perceived weakness and his mother coddling him, not even allowing him to leave the city. But with his father nearing old age, the time quickly approaches to name a successor, and Amon is keeping his eyes peeled for anything that may gain him favor. Aspirations or Desires: Dreams of finding a treasure or relic that he can use to surpass his brothers and sisters in status, proving himself to be worthy of taking over the families merchant guild. Skills prior to adventure: Is an excellent shopper, always able to spot a deal and willing to haggle till the sun goes down. This may lead him to buy things he doesn't need on the basis of pride. This also makes him a great salesman, able to talk up a product, although this has gotten him in trouble when the customers have realized they've been had. Personality: A rather calm and patient fellow, gained from years of placating his easily excitable mother. Has a silver tongue that gets him into trouble about as often as it gets him out of it. Is touchy about anyone outside his family insinuating he is to weak to do something.

C'est comme si elle était exclue de la guerre des enchères. On dirait qu'elle a aussi ouvert les portes des inondations et qu'elle s'est noyée. Même Vella et la petite main se joignaient. Bien qu'Arthur ait parié une somme ridicule pour une carte que personne ne pouvait confirmer était authentique, elle savait que c'était inutile. Ce pansy Amon était entré dans le concours et pouvait les surenchérir tous. Peut-être. Elle avait encore sa poterie. Si elle était honnête, tout valait environ 30 d'or. Si elle était malhonnête, ça valait 50. Mais comme avant, il n'y avait aucun moyen de savoir que la carte était authentique. Non, elle a décidé de secouer et de surveiller la procédure.

Name: Arusi Ekene Ayo Age: 25 Race: Prith Gender: Female Appearance: Other than her large, black, beetle head, like most prith have, Arusi is rather plain. Neither too fat, skinny, tall, or short. She's exceedingly average, taking after her father, especially when compared to the ethereal beauties that are her mother and sisters. Arusi wears a simple white linen dress that falls to her mid-calf and a dark red cowl. For shoes a simple pair of work sandals have always sufficed. The only extravagant parts of her ensemble are the jeweled bracelets and necklaces she wears. Glittering in the sun with all manner of metals and stones, Arusi has a weak spot for jewelry in any form. Backstory: Arusi's family hails from a village close to the cursed sands of Kahltofal. There they would have remained if not for her father and how he "borrowed" the Caliph's favorite horse. Their flight took them to Fireside, where they settled in. That was two years ago. Now Arusi works as a potter, much like she did before. Unfortunately all her funds are being siphoned away by the expensive habits of her mother and sisters or to bail her father out of jail once again. Maybe her father will clean up his act and maybe her sisters can finally find someone else to provide for them, but frankly Arusi isn't going to hold her breath. No, she's just about ready to give up on all of them. Aspirations or Desires: To do something worthwhile with her family name. Skills prior to adventuring: Arusi is a potter and has been for as long as she can remember. Personality: Arusi is a real Type A personality and planner. Everything has an end-goal and contributes to the whole. Frustrations don't cause her to despair, they cause her to rage. She's also fairly loyal and bull-headed (that was a terrible joke and I apologize), causing her to put up with the ridiculousness of those she cares about for far longer than is probably healthy. Last, but not least, she tends to slip into the Kahl language when he gets excited or flustered.

Arthur s'est tenu stupide comme maintenant plusieurs autres se sont joints à l'offre. C'est pas vrai. Pourquoi? Ça allait être le mien. Il regarda quelques marchands environnants se joindre à l'offre, avant qu'une étrange créature à la main ne se joigne à son pot et à son bâton. Une femme s'est jointe à dix pièces, faisant presque rire Arthur. Comme si dix pièces maigres pouvaient se battre avec un pot et coller ce magnifique. Il a donné un soupir vaincu et a regardé le luth dans ses mains, puis il a regardé en arrière le marchand. Non, sauf s'il n'y a pas d'autre choix. Arthur s'est emparé de son porte-monnaie et l'a gardé pour que tout le monde le voie. 23 pièces d'or! Il a crié. C'était tout l'argent qu'il avait. Si ça ne suffisait pas, il n'aurait qu'un autre choix.

Name: Arthur Gray Age: 21 Race: Boring ass human Gender: Male Backstory: Arthur has lived in Fireside all his life. Ever since he was young, he's been trying to attract women... and has always fallen short of success. He's tried sports, music, poetry, etc. and has never actually been able to pick up anyone of the opposite gender. Aspirations or Desires: To score tons of chicks. Skills prior to adventuring: Mediocre skill at lute, thinks he can write poetry, and somewhat good at dodging and throwing... dodge balls. Personality: Arthur is an extreme optimist. If he ever gets sad or angry, just wait about ten seconds and he should be back to his usual chipper mood.

Argh est resté indifférent à la grande somme d'argent, son visage toujours plein d'espoir. La petite créature ne s'est pas rendu compte qu'il n'y avait probablement rien qu'il puisse offrir au serpent, mais il a toujours essayé. En plus de son pot et de bâton, il a maintenant offert la modeste somme de 3 pièces, le pot, le bâton et maintenant son tissu de longon qu'il a tenu jusqu'au marchand révélant absolument rien en dessous assez étrangement.

Name: Hargh Age: 14 but in his specie's years he's about 21 or 22 Race: Harghsisis Gender: Male He ussually only wears his loin clothe. Backstory: 12 years ago a small creature showed up in the village of Fireside. No one knew who the little thing belonged to but he became a long running resident in the village getting by by banging sticks he found against a metal pot he managed to get his hands on. Most of the money he got was out of pity but a small margin of it was just for his upbeat attitude. Aspirations or Desires: To get the map that was bought from the merchant. Skills prior to adventuring: hitting stationary things with a small stick and smacking things with his hands... All three of them. Personality: Hargh isn't very bright, he isn't very smart but what he lacks in smarts he makes up for in kindness and the shear volume of his voice. He isn't much of a fighter but he hasn't had to fight anyone before.