#i do like the fcs that give him a broad nose though because i think comparatively in the manga his nose is actually drawn to be that way | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

wangisking · 3 years

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𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐍𝐆 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐔𝐑𝐕𝐄𝐘

BASICS. FULL NAME : Augustus Alexander Wang NICKNAME : August and Gus ( in general ), Auggie, Ice Prince, and Guggie ( by Aurora ). Aug and Lestat ( by Jack ), NAME MEANINGS : Augustus is Latin for the great / the magnificent. Alexander is also Latin and means defender of mankind. From what I know, Wang in Chinese means king. HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : Though, his dad did think of the Roman Emperor Augustus when they named him, they liked the meaning. It seemed to fit him. They weren’t wrong, he was an emperor and he still has that energy. AGE : 22. Like Aurora, he can’t age past 22. He wouldn’t have minded either way. BIRTHDAY : 5th April ETHNIC GROUP : Augustus is half Korean and half Brazilian. NATIONALITY : British LANGUAGES : fluent in English and French. Conversational Latin. Broken Korean. Learning Urdu. SEXUAL ORIENTATION : demi-heterosexual ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : demi-heterosexual RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Single and doesn’t want to mingle. He had only one serious relationship in the past with Aurora Shams from 2017-2019. CLASS : Upper class, Wealthy but not private-jet kind of wealthy. HOME TOWN / AREA : London till he was 10 and Vancouver till he was 17 CURRENT HOME : Los Angeles PROFESSION : Drummer, songwriter, model, and student. PHYSICAL. HAIR : long and wavy. Chestnut brown. Here is an example. It goes down his earlobes in length. EYES : piercing, almond-shaped eyes. Naturally brown, but he wears blue or green contact lenses. NOSE : a Greek nose, straight without bumps. FACE : Oblong shaped, sharp and chiseled cheekbones, strong jaw. Masculine features. Example. LIPS : not full nor thin, heart shaped. COMPLEXION : pretty pale. Example is same as the face section. SCARS : one on his chest. TATTOOS : a very small ‘10/17′ on his left rib. PIERCINGS: earlobes HEIGHT : 6′5″ or 195cm. BUILD : Inverted triangle. Broad, tapered shoulders. Muscular. Defined, sculpted abs. Long limbs. Broad chest. He was naturally towards the muscular side with broad shoulders and chest. He’s never been on the skinny side. Example one and two USUAL HAIR STYLE : he lets his hair do their thing, he styles them a little, but he prefers a messier vibe. USUAL FACE LOOK : He looks generally bored. His eyes have a piercing look that seem to be drilling into the person before him. Like he can see right through you. There is an insolent smirk tugging at his lips like he thinks you’re amusing. Almost proud, like he thinks he is above you. There is depth and intensity in his eyes that stare skywards in thought. There is also mischievous, radiant glimmer in his eyes. USUAL CLOTHING : prince charming meets rockstar. Lots of jackets, darker colors, boots, necklaces and rings. Here is his wardrobe. PSYCHOLOGY. FEARS : claustrophobia and the fear of ending up alone. He always had this creeping feeling that he’d be alone in the end and that he was always meant to be alone. ASPIRATIONS : he doesn’t have any set aspirations. They change every now and then. However, his goals are just to keep his found family happy. POSITIVE TRAITS : extremely charismatic, intelligent, academic and studious, alluring and attractive, quick-witted, charming and captivating, articulate and eloquent, adventurous, desirable, analytical, brilliant, friendly, enthusiastic, adaptable, observant, kind, mellow, competent, extremely caring and protective over those closest to him, clever, loyal, clear-headed, confident, humorous, courageous, imaginative and creative, a visionary, refined tastes and manners, daring, dignified, ebullient, deep, remarkable, surprisingly he’s very forgiving, forthright, gallant, logical, gentlemanly and sophisticated, perfectionist, popular, self-reliant, shrewd, witty, suave, curious, and resourceful. NEGATIVE TRAITS : egocentric, self-obsessed, idle, indifferent, selfish, defiant, arrogant, argumentative, rebellious, kinda lazy, stubborn, distracted, doesn’t really care for morals, blunt, can appear insensitive a lot, is insensitive at times, no filters, can be cold for those he doesn’t care for, emotionally immature, deflects emotions, suppresses his feelings, sorta detached, kinda pessimistic, and unknowingly self-sacrificing because he thinks it’s fair and he deserves it. MBTI : ENTP ( Ne dominant, Ti auxiliary, Fe tertiary, and Si inferior — this means she can’t use Ni, Se, Te, and especially can’t use Fi). He perceives the world by connecting dots, thinking of never-ending possibilities, looking for pieces of a puzzle, and finding meaning in abstract. He makes judgments on if what he perceives fits his internal logic. ZODIAC : Aries sun, Gemini rising, Sagittarius moon. TEMPERAMENT : sanguine choleric ANIMALS : parrots and cats because they’re both intelligent but little pieces of shit who enjoy making your life hell. VICE : it’s either his ego or how he ends up detaching himself FAITH : currently, he’s Mu.slim. He was born protestant, became an atheist when he was 13, agnostic at 14. Bud.dhist at 15. Taoist at 16. Confucianist at 17. Mu.slim at 19. Doesn't practice it though. GHOSTS ? : yep.. AFTERLIFE ? : yep REINCARNATION ? : he guesses so. Went through it, but doesn’t remember. ALIENS ? : hell yeah. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : liberal. ECONOMIC PREFERENCE : upper class or upper middle class is good with him. EDUCATION LEVEL : MSci in Physics from the University of Cambridge. Is opting to specialize in astrophysics soon. FAMILY. FATHER : Edward Wang, owner of a chain of fine dining restaurants MOTHER : Elisa Violeta Wang, psychiatrist, deceased STEP MOTHER : Chaeyoung Wang, lawyer. SIBLINGS : Cassandra Wang, athlete EXTENDED FAMILY : he is not close with his external family and doesn’t know his birth mother’s family at all. They never wanted him. FAVOURITES. BOOK : Crime and Punishment by Fyodor Dostoevsky, Galactic Dynamics by James Binney, Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Mukarami, Slaughter house Five by Kurt Vonnegut, War and Peace by Leo Tolstoy, and Lord of the Flies by William Golding. MOVIE : Scott Pilgrim vs The World 5 SONGS : All You Want - Dashboard Prophets, Tokyo Smoke - Cage the Elephant, Where is My Mind? - The Pixies, Sparks - Coldplay, Lithium - Nirvana, and Mr. Blue Sky - Electric Light Orchestra DEITY : none. Let him argue with one and ask for proof of their deity-ness. HOLIDAY : Halloween. It’s dramatic and fun. MONTH : October, because he met Aurora and Jack this month in 2017. SEASON : spring and summer. PLACE : he doesn’t have a specific place, but he prefers European architecture. WEATHER : cloudy and windy. Sunny if it isn’t too hot. SOUND : drums and percussions, the sound of aurora and jack’s laugh, guitars, violins, the sound of wind roaring, music boxes, and the clinking of bangles and jewelry. SCENTS : sage, rosemary, and damascus roses. TASTES : chocolate, strawberries, chilies, and fried food. FEELS : the feeling of hitting the drums, wind in his hair, the cold night air, warm morning sun, grass against his fingertips, silk, and touching long hair. ANIMALS : cats and dogs. NUMBER : 8 COLORS : white, cherry red, pink, maroon, wine red, black, and silver. EXTRA. TALENTS : he is an extremely talented drummer, good at guitar and the piano, he is talented at songwriting, composing music, he’s exceptionally good at mathematics and physics, analytical skills, storytelling, knows a lot of facts, near photographic memory because he remembers all important historical events with dates and details, academic writing, and brainstorming ideas. BAD AT : cooking, not very good at driving because he gets distracted, doing one task at a time, playing videogames, actually listening to what people say, being humble, and actually being a good leader. TURN ONS : this is a complicated question. He needs a very strong emotional connection to feel sexual attraction towards someone. And he only felt it for one person in his whole life. But, what sparked that attraction was a brilliant mind and the ability to connect with his mind on a very different level. It’s not going to repeat with anyone else. TURN OFFS : literally everyone else. He’s not sorry, but I am. HOBBIES : playing the drums, writing and composing songs, reading, solving problems, listening to music, watching shows, getting people to do weird shit, and annoying people. AESTHETIC : crowns, drums, broken drumming sticks, abstract art, the vast space, chess boards, album cases, thrones, the echoing sound of pianos, Greek sculptures, galaxies and nebulas, early morning sunrise through curtains, libraries, equations scribbled on napkins, empty museums, unmade white sheets, polaroid cameras, conspiracy theories, VHS tapes, antique books, cobblestone alleyways, night skies, cluttered books, calloused fingers, crumpled composition pages, guitar picks, vinyl, telescopes, and planets. Basically: abstract, chaotic academia, cryptid academia, dark academia, indie, kingcore, light academia, musical academia, science academia, spacecore, QUOTES : it’s weird but i can’t decide which one fits him. FC INFO. MAIN FC : victor han ALT FC : n/a. OLDER FC : he can’t age past 22, so he doesn’t need one. YOUNGER FC : none yet. VOICE CLAIM : both speaking and singing (his accent is posh British with a slight hint of Canadian) MUN QUESTIONS. Q1 : If you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in, and what would it be about ? A1 : The same answer as Aurora, The Tale of Solis et Lunae that stars him alongside Aurora, Lunae, Jack, and Tate, plus more. A cosmic adventure / fantasy / coming of age / superhero / the reluctant hero / the chosen one. His role is of Aurora’s best friend and her greatest support in emotional and supernatural dangers. He is the time traveler who ascends time and space, so he often also gives her insight and information like the sage. It’ll expand across dimensions, worlds, and different states of existence. The scenes would be cinematic with a strong soundtrack. I imagine him to have some scenes like Quick Silver in the X-Men movies. Q2 : What would their soundtrack / score sound like ? A2 : He would have a 90s grunge or spacey dream rock sound. It ties in with the end of the last answer because i see him in one of those scenes with 90s grunge or maybe classical music ? Q3 : Why did you start writing this character ? A3 : I made Augustus just a bit before Aurora. They were a two part deal. I don’t know when it began, I just had this image of a tall, long haired boy with piercing, intelligent eyes who’s a smart-ass and likes being a know-it-all nuisance. This character has been the same since he began in 2019 and refused to change. He was always a drummer, he always had the same fashion sense, the look, Gus was always half-Korean, he always had long fingers he wore rings on, and he was always Aurora’s best friend/partner in crime. He remains unchanged and that's why I wanted to write him. This very vivid image of this boy was something I had to pen down. And just my luck, I found a fc who looks exactly how Gus looked in my head. Q4 : What first attracted you to this character ? A4 : Augustus is just extraordinary. It’s something I always felt about him and Aurora and I don’t see any of my other characters coming anywhere close to them regardless of how much I spent time on them. But with Augustus, his entire image and looks and personality — down to his wardrobe and jewelry was always so vivid in my head. Like I knew this very chaotically handsome boy who was going to turn the world upside down. His story is interesting, but what interests me more is his perspective on his story. The way he looks at his life and how he is quiet and doesn’t show his pain. How confused he always is. How much he aches but never seems so. The way he loves but doesn’t say even a quarter of the intensity he feels. And how sometimes he believes he deserves suffering because it makes sense to him. I also love the connections he makes and the way he loves so deeply and profoundly but underneath the surface. His connection, love, fears, and hopes with Aurora and Jack for their respective reasons are extremely beautiful. Q5 : Describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. ? A5 : Augustus is unknowingly self-sabotaging. He let go the only relationship / love in his life that made him feel like real love just because he thought he didn’t deserve it. And because when he was provoked, it made “sense” to him. He bottles his emotions and pain so much despite their intensity. He never shows how much he really cares and really hurts. And how sure he is that he’ll end up alone without friends and that it makes sense to him. Q6 : What do you have in common with your muse ? A6 : Here’s a fun answer, because I bottle my emotions like him. I also interact with the carefree way he does even if I don’t feel peachy. He’s smart and witty and really hot and I don’t even have that going on for me. So, yikes. Only of Gus’ bad things I share. Q7 : How does your muse feel about you ? A7 : Gus loves interacting with people so he’ll definitely show up to annoy me. Maybe, he might think I’m fun to annoy? Or maybe, we’ll have a similar sense of humor. I think he won’t dislike me. Not sure if he’ll like me. I think he’d think I’m funny in a strange sort of way. Q8 : What characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ? A8 : Aurora, first of all. They have this same brain wave-length thing going on where they’re partners in crime and bffs forever more. He knows how she is feeling and what she’s thinking even before she utters it. If she is about to sneeze, he’d get a tissue ready. He can tell if she is hungry or sleepy with one glance. She can do the same, so they sorta have this weird understanding of each other. Jack is this older brother figure Augustus loves. He won’t admit it, but he kinda wants to make Jack proud of him. He also wants to provide love and care to Jack that he thinks he deserves but never got. They’re his family now and he’ll never be alone or sad again. He annoys Jack a lot but behind it all, he just wants Jack to think he is needed and he belongs. That if he thinks Augustus is reliant on him, then he has this family he has to protect and care for. He can’t stand the thought of Jack feeling unloved, forgotten, alone. Tida is another one. There’s this great respect and adoration Gus has for him. Almost like he looks up to him in some ways He also has a lot of hopes and expectations attached. He feels Tida is everything that Gus himself lacks. He is the ideal boyfriend, kindest person, shows his emotions vividly, and is like a warm and cozy blanket personified. He is probably Tida and Aurora’s biggest supporter and first one to know. He can’t be happier than he is that Aurora found someone as good and perfect as Tida. Taewon is one really fun character. Their two-way frenemy jealousy spans over years and started in Cambridge when they were both in love with the same girl they claimed to be best friends with. Though, trying to be calm, Augustus was constantly provoked and hurt, made to feel inferior and constantly in fear of his relationship being broken by Taewon’s schemes that he couldn’t say out loud. This dark period ended with a fist fight and baggage of guilt they both carry to this day for hurting each other and the one they claimed to love. Today, they’re way past that and frenemies who have funny quips and arguments for each other. They say they dislike each other. But if the lighting is good, one would be the photographer of the other. Q9 : What gives you inspiration to write your muse ? A9 : Music helps me imagine scenes with perfect visual details. Any scenes from shows that remind me of my storylines. Q10 : How long did this take you to complete ? A10 : I don’t remember. It was many days and I didn’t count because it was in bits and pieces.

#╰ ♛ 𝐌𝐄𝐓𝐀 ━━ the king of gods #long post #i finally did this!

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palmett-hoes · 3 years

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Do you have any fan casts or strong takes/feelings on the foxes’ appearances? Fandom tends to use the same Pinterest models, which feels wrong to me.

i do in fact! i've actually been meaning to make a post about how i choose to write all of the foxes' ethnicities anyway

but yes i absolutely agree that the typical pinterest model types u generally see on edits is not how i see any of them. nor is reece king or froy gutierrez or lucky blue smith one of my FCs for anyone

for a lot of them i don't necessarily have a single specific FC so much as i have like,, a general impression of features that i will see on various different people, who all may look wildly different from each other or who may not even look how i see the character as a whole but do have a specific feature i associate with them. mostly it boils down to the Energy i get tbh and that's just a Feeling i cant even explain

fun fact im a tiny bit face blind so that might account for some of why i'm so all-over about this

may as well go chronologically. some of them i definitely have more thoughts on than others

1. Dan

ethnicity: Afro Native (Sioux)

features: medium dark skin. buzzcut, killer fade. she often styles it in waves. she's very butch, wears a lot of basketball and cargo shorts, tank tops and flannels and jerseys, hiking boots. skinny but muscular, with a very rectangular body shape. defined jaw. probably like 5'4 or 5'5

FC/Energy: sometimes i get some dan energy out of janelle monae but more butch. lotta dan energy out of samira wiley. lashana lynch

2. Kevin

ethnicity: a lot of things tbd, but he's pretty multi-ethnic. i like the idea of kayleigh being half- or a quarter-japanese in addition to irish because it gives her more of a reason to go to japan for her undergrad. wymack is from d.c. which is a majority black city for its actual residents, but i also like the idea of him being Pasifika/Hawaiian. HOWEVER - and this is pretty important to my read of kevin's character - he's white passing, and has been mostly treated as a white guy who tans his whole life, like occasionally asked if he's italian maybe. learning that his father was a Distinctly Not White Man was a big shock to him.

kristin kreuk, lindsay price, phoebe cates, and marie digby are all half-asian actresses i base kayleigh on

i suppose i base his story partially on broadway actress carol channing, who revealed publically that she was a quarter black when she was like 80 years old. though maybe wentworth miller, a biracial actor who knows his father is black but also doesn't know him, is more accurate to kevin's story. then keanu reeves is a white passing actor with asian ancestry

also none of these people look anything like how i picture kevin lol. kevin is just like,, a guy. handsome ig. but kind of in a CW character kind of way

actually

kevin looks exactly like young jason momoa

3. Andrew

ethnicity: kayin/karen from myanmar

features: fat and muscular, very wide and heavy. this blog is basically all andrew body type refs. medium-olive skin, has a bit of a greyish tinge that makes him look a bit eerie or unhealthy. deep set, droopy eyes; looks so tired. flat face with a low-bridged nose. crooked teeth, especially his canines. natural hair black-ish but he bleaches it light blond. has the beginnings of martial artist punching callouses in his knuckles

FC/Energy: holy shit the characters i feel have Andrew Energy are all over the place. pedro pascal. babe ruth (yes fr). oddjob (harold sakata) from goldfinger. the jinn (mousa kraish) from american gods. gaear grimsrud (peter stormare) from fargo. takeshi kovacs (joel kinnaman) from altered carbon. and i wanna be clear, it's these characters specifically, and generally NOT the actors outside of that specific role. except pedro ❤️

4. Matt

ethnicity: cuban

appearance: matt has more of an Energy than specific features to me rn. that energy is Warm. he has that Warm bro jock dude energy. kind of a marvel hero build, hunky and muscular. very rectangular face. has this haircut:

5. Aaron

i get to cut myself some slack and not go AS in depth about aaron because he and andrew are identical twins

ethnicity: kayin/karen from myanmar

appearance: similar build to andrew, less confident and casual posture and body language. less apathetically murderous and more emotive expressions. better teeth bc his mom took him to the dentist. yes also bleaches his hair

celebrities: probably a lot like the difference between the characters and the actors. andrew is the characters and aaron is how the actors actually look. idk ive never looked at someone and thought 'hey! looks like aaron!'

6. Seth

ethnicity: have been going with half-vietnamese. considering looking into various south asian possibilities like pakistani

appearance: string bean build. that's all i have to offer

7. Allison

ethnicity: allison's very up in the air for me. she and seth are the two foxes i feel fine with being white, but im committing to having no white foxes sooo. i would say i generally see her as either half-middle eastern or chinese

appearance: plus sized and hourglass shaped. heart shaped face. taller, like 5'8 or 5'9. she has a pretty fraught history with her appearance and her parents payed for/pressured her into getting a nose job to have a 'prettier' nose. she also bleaches her hair blonde. she gets it done at a salon tho the twinyards do it in their bathroom

FC/Energy: elle king and nadia aboulhosn are my main inspos for her, esp body type but nadia esp in Vibes

8. Nicky

ethnicity: multi-ethnic. his mother is southern mexican Indigenous, possibly oaxacan. his father is mixed white/kayin

appearance: definitely takes after his mother while his father is white passing. dark brown skin, warm undertones. slightly stocky build. tall ovular head and thin aquiline nose. he's kind of just,, the opposite of the twins ig, so like their facial features look very different, which is a big part of why people don't make the connection between him and the twins alongside the difference in their skin tones, heights, and builds. nicky's build and features are very vertically-oriented, with a tall head, narrow-set eyes, thin nose with a high bridge, etc. the twins are horizontally-orienged, with broad, flat faces, wide-set eyes, wide noses with a low bridge, etc.

FC/Energy: yalitza aparicio, not a guy but one of the few Mexican Indigenous stars in the film industry and i really like her features for nicky. she's oaxacan

9. Renee

ethnicity: Black. african american

appearance: plus sized, circular/apple body shape. round face. dark skin. microlocs to a bit past her chin, bleached white and dyed at the ends. she and allison go to the salon together. femme but plain style, a lot of blouses and long skirts, practical shoes. knuckle callouses. about 5'6

FC/Energy: dominique fishback. tracie thoms, esp in RENT. gabourey sidibe. nicole byer, but not in Energy. brandy, for some reason, probably bc i think she has very serene Energy and is a little bit otherworldly. like if brandy played arwen or galadriel from lotr it would make perfect sense to me, and that's the Renee Energy™️

10. Neil

ethnicity: mixed. Black/Jewish on both sides. his father is polish ashkenazi and afro-brazilian. his mother is Black British and algerian jewish

appearance: very... sharp. like sharp all over. does that make sense? sharp features, sharp face shape, sharp angles to his body. he's got what i vaguely think of as a 'basketball build' not meaning tall but meaning very rangy and angular and lean. all limbs. seth has a similar build. lighter brown skin. he has waardenburg syndrome which is actually where he gets he gets his eye color, and his eyes are very large and widely spaced as well. freckles freckles freckles. freckles everywhere. 4a hair but at least during canon it's not very healthy and thus the curls aren't well-defined. he grows it out long enough to tie back and starts taking better care of it in post-canon. wonky, slightly crooked teeth, with a gap between the fronts

FC/Energy: now neil i actually have a ton for. mostly models which im a lil ashamed of bc i do try to draw more from athletes. alton mason is a main body type ref. mugsy bogues is good to see what i mean about the basketball build without the height. here're the boys: cykeem white, luka sabbat, désiré mia, Leo Hoyte-Egan, dylan hasselbaink, this beautiful stock photo model i've never been able to track down

i think about him every. goddamn. day.

in terms of like,, real ppl and not models: corbin bleu, especially during Jump In. figure skater elladj balde. rayan "ray ray" lopez from mindless behavior. A$AP Rocky a lil bit, maybe i just like his hairstyle idk

two more models i think are important: carissa pinkston and ralph souffrant

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stefanbekowsky · 3 years

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accidentally made another witcher oc last night and can’t stop thinking about her so i had to write this!!! her failed execution hehe 🤭 her name is orla and she’s a nilfgaardian sorceress, a bit like fringilla being used by emhyr... “emhyr’s curiosity” more than an actual ally. i’m gonna steal the unused “yennefer betrays the lodge” plot because it’s dumb and use it for orla 😝 either phil kills her or she flees and emhyr kills her but yeah she’s got a very bad ending! at least one of my witcher oc’s has to have one and she’s kinda... not doing anything to help herself lol (also her fc now is natalie dormer.... maybe will be changed though 🤫 now it’s eva green...)

Novigrad was never quiet. It was a cultural melting pot of people from all walks of life, whether they be human, elven, dwarven... Rich folk and common alike. Even the supernatural found it difficult to stay away.

Geralt hadn’t left since his arrival two weeks ago. The city was good for a witcher, business wise. There were no end to mysteries folk wanted solved, rumors of supernatural beasts and murders in broad daylight were prime contracts - oft the best and most steady coin a witcher could ask for.

The marketplace was busy at the best of times, but this afternoon they’d grown exceedingly loud, so much so that Geralt could no longer ignore it.

He could hear the shouting, the jeering, and the laughter from several streets away. It was only as he approached the entrance did he hear something else: muffled sobs of those in the crowd hiding their faces, unable to look.

Guardsmen pushed past, their shoulders holding up piles of wood. They marched to the area just outside of Vivaldi’s Bank, dumping the logs on an already large pile. It struck him then that he was to witness yet another execution, most likely of a sorceress. He just hoped it wasn’t one he knew, his mind going to old, and perhaps best forgotten, acquaintances. Philippa, Margarita… Fringilla…

A man Geralt recalled from his first visit to Novigrad appeared on the platform. He was brandishing a rolled up piece of parchment in one fist and an unlit torch in the other. Caleb Menge.

“Good people of Novigrad,” He bellowed out to the bustling crowd. “Our quest to rid this fair city of it’s magical pests has developed once again, bringing a new success to your ears and sights. For too long, you’ve lived under the thumb of wicked sorcery and those who abuse it. Radovid stands for it no longer!”

The crowd cheered, several bumping into Geralt as they jumped up and down in glee. A woman collapsed on to the floor in floods of tears and went largely ignored by those around her until a young man rushed to her side.

“Tonight, I present to you a tarnished jewel in the crown of the Nilfgaardian Empire,” The man grinned, a sight that turned Geralt’s stomach. “A snake sent from Emhyr himself, to slither into your very homes and do his malevolent bidding - tearing our city to pieces for nought more than cruel entertainment. A sorceress of vile deeds, an enchantress and thief who consorts with demons.”

The noise around Geralt became even more unbearable, as more people joined the gathering and he found himself tunnelled in, moving closer to the front of the crowd. He pulled his hood up, hoping to conceal his identity to Menge who could surely spot his face.

“And I give you my word, she will burn!”

A woman with a plain cloth sack over her head appeared behind Menge, two guardsmen holding her arms with an ironclad grip. She seemed to be cooperating well, being the one to lead the guards rather than the other way around.

“I present to you: Orla var Malhoun!” Menge roared.

The plain cloth sack was ripped from her head and Geralt had the immediate displeasure of recognising her. Her dark hair was stuck to her forehead, frizzy and unevenly cut as if hacked off with a knife. Her eyes were dark, bruised and unreadable from this distance but one clearly swollen shut. Her lips much the same - puffy and bleeding, a several tracks of dried blood resting on her dirty chin. Her frame was gaunt and battered, but Geralt would know her face from anywhere.

Orla var Malhoun, once a beloved curiosity of Emhyr, bloody and broken before a jeering crowd.

Her lips contorted and at first, Geralt braced himself for the sight of her throwing up. She looked as though she would collapse before she reached the pyre, and those around him would surely riot for being robbed of her slow and painful death.

Instead, her eyes roamed the crowd fleetingly and her expression quickly developed into a smirk. She threw back her head, cackling loudly, her bony shoulders shaking.

Not as broken as I thought, Geralt mused, unsure if he should feel sympathy or pride. Or maybe she’s finally lost it. Not even sorceresses are immune to prolonged torture.

Menge took a step back and slapped her across the face, her entire body crumbling as she leant back into the hold of the guards.

“Hold your tongue, bitch!” He snarled, turning to the guards behind her. “Put her up on the pyre.”

She was pushed up on to the ledge, her head lolling against her chest and she offered no resistance as her hands and feet were bound to the pole. Geralt grew frustrated.

He’d expected she’d die one day at the hands of another, for Orla had never done well at staying out of other people’s (or nation’s) business, but not like this: meek, not memorable nor remotely shocking. He expected hell to break lose, to give the crowd a show, as awful as that sounded to him as he thought on it. But what could he do? Orla’s life wasn’t worth his own, nor his quest to find Ciri. He’d sooner kiss a drowner than let Ciri be captured by the Wild Hunt because he had to save Orla var Malhoun, of all people. Of all sorceresses.

Wanting a show, a guardsman poked her side with his spear. She stirred, her head raising to lean against the pole.

Menge turned to address her.

“Do you confess upon this pyre, your treacherous abilities and loyalties to Nilfgaard?”

She said nothing, gazing at him impassively with a lazy smile on her face.

“Do you, Orla var Malhoun, confess to the crimes you have been found guilty of?” He pressed, louder and angrier.

“I confess to everything, you fat-headed idiot,” Orla laughed. “But I have no guilt to speak of, only pride and longing.”

She turned her attention to the crowd, the booing only seeming to better her mood. Her one good eye shone in the light and her broken teeth glittered.

“Glory to Nilfgaard, and to the White Flame Dancing on the Graves of his Foes!” She shouted with mirth. The crowd retorted with louder boos and rotten fruit, several tomatoes staining her already soiled white dress. “You’ll all die on your knees, you rotten Northern pigs! Fuck you all!”

Orla snarled the last part, the joy now gone from her face. “All who oppose him will fall, and you will suffer for this humiliation! I will not die, I will return! With blood!”

“Shut the fuck up,” A guardsman called as another threw a lit torch and the flames began the crackle. Smoke was thrown up into the air, and it tickled Geralt’s throat.

Orla thrashed against her her restraits, wiggling her bare feet and shoulders as the flames grew around her but kept suspiciously quiet. The smoke had become so thick, Geralt could no longer see her and he gritted his teeth in annoyance, knowing she wouldn’t go out like this: utterly silent. The guardsmen seemed equally as annoyed by her silence, bringing out several large fans likely to increase the strength of the flames and waft away the smoke for easier viewing. As they did this, a distinct smell reached Geralt’s nose. It smelt of… saltpeter? Who would be making a bomb at an execution?

He narrowed his eyes, using his witcher senses to hone in on the scent. A red trail of a smoke-like substance appeared before him, snaking through the crowd between the throngs of people. Geralt followed it.

Pushing past spectators, he found himself at the edge of the crowd. There were several empty stalls, devoid of produce and products, that the trail had touched. He continued on, passing by stragglers of the crowd, until he reached a heavy wooden door just outside of the marketplace. A beggar sat outside on the dirt, a misshapen hat on her head and an empty cloth bag at her feet. Her clothes were torn and resembled potato bags tied together with rope. One of Novigrad’s many forgotten folk.

“You know who lives here?” Geralt asked her.

“Depends,” She answered, not sparing him a look.

“Guessing you want coin.”

“Aye. Several.”

He sighed. “5 Crowns enough?”

“Not a chance.”

Geralt tossed 10 Crowns in the cloth bag. The beggar checked and seemed pleased by his generosity, turning up to face him.

She jabbed her thumb behind her shoulder. “Lady named Hedwig lives there. Word is, she’s a witch.”

Geralt didn’t have time to react. A loud explosion sounded from the marketplace, the ground rumbling and sparks of light shooting up into the sky. He heard screams before the thunderous footfall of a hundred odd spectators drowned it out and people poured out from the entrance. He pushed himself against the wall to avoid being trampled and looked down at the beggar woman, seeing she’d already fled.

#tbd #posted it on the wrong blog whoops

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mutantsrisingrpg · 4 years

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Congratulations ABBY! You’ve been accepted as MARS with a FC change to HUNTER SCHAFER.

Abby, we’re excited to have you back, and we’re excited to have you gracing the dashboard with Yvette! Her life’s story flowed so well, I felt as if I could envision it like a movie - of course, it’d probably be one that I cry during, but that’s besides the point. I’m a sucker for the little things, and those headcanons, from her favorite things to her laughter, just made me envision her that much more clearer and really makes you see her as a person, not just a character. Welcome back!

Welcome to Mutants Rising! Please read the checklist and submit your account within 24 hours.

OUT OF CHARACTER INFORMATION

NAME / ALIAS: abby

PRONOUNS: she/her

AGE: 22

TIMEZONE & ACTIVITY LEVEL: EST, 6-7/10 – What is time these days? I’m still a full time grad student, but with everything the way it is i’m pretty much on my computer all the time, which means I can be better involved in the gc ( hopefully ! ). In terms of replies, I’ll either be cranking things out on the dash in the mornings or at night after dinner (8-9pm onwards)

IN CHARACTER INFORMATION

DESIRED ROLE: Yvette Diandra

GENDER/PRONOUNS: trans woman & she/her

DETAILS & ANALYSIS:

Calm like a bomb. The only tick tick you’ll get out of Yvette is her heart thrumming when her hands lift off the handlebars; when her smile splits for a second – all teeth. There’s nothing overtly dangerous about her: a young woman grown upright into adulthood, all legs and elbows and big eyes, searching for soft spots between your ribs. Mischievous, maybe – up to no good, certainly. She smiles like she’s got a secret tucked under her lip, more than just the tattoo she got drunk on her 21st birthday reading PUSSY in blurred out ink ( you are what you eat, right? ).

There’s an uptick to her brow to tell you she’s unimpressed; a shrug in her shoulders that says she couldn’t give a shit what you say, really, but a nod and another nod until she can roll away from one palm-flanked street to the next. She’ll keep it that way – a slow blink like a cat’s to say, i trust you, a hand extended with a joint between her fingers. You know she’s whispering about you when she turns to giggle in her friend’s dark hair, but – come on. She looks like she’ll bowl over with a strong wave; how much damage can she really do?

She doesn’t use her powers often, a clean and tidy life that comes at the expense of control. She’ll say it’s because her powers are messy. The truth is she’s never been terrified of anything like she is of herself. She knows what her blast radius is, knows how easy it is to crush things, like a petal in her fist. She knows the shrapnel never really comes out; you can’t get unfucked, you can’t put all that toothpaste back in the tube. You sure as shit can’t walk across the bridge, on fire while you hold the blown-out match. It’s fine. It’s all fucking fine. Yvette clamps a bear trap on her own foot – not because she likes it, not because it’s convenient. Because the alternative, is, frankly, a lot of fucking work. Yvette is good at breaking herself apart, less so at putting herself together. The drop is always easier than getting back up.

The fearlessness – as congenital as the atoms in her body, shivering to split and reshape like waves on the surf – comes out in other ways. No helmet on the on the hill that drives straight down to the beach. Sketchy deals with friends of a friend of a cousin of a diagonal neighbor. Nights lost to glitter and the burn of liquor on her tongue, unsure of the time between the club and the beach and her bed. Mornings split like a snowcone in the sky, and the rest of the day lost to sleep. Petty theft. Cruel giggles poorly stifled in the back of her hand. Fun that’s really only fun when you aren’t at the receiving end of it. Testing the edges of control like dipping your toes into a riptide.

BIO:

Trigger warnings for: still birth, abuse, drug use

Yvette is born screaming. Peals of it, unfurling from her tiny, toothless mouth. Despondent – no nurse’s finger or nipple in her mouth would quiet her. Eight years or so later, over three fingers of bottom-shelf whiskey and a chain of cigarettes that should’ve put her in a grave, her mother mentions offhand it was just Yvette overcompensating, as usual. It’s the first time she hears about her brother, pushed out between her desperate wails; born sleeping. Yvette swallows this like she does all her mother’s bitter commentary – wide-eyed, slim fingers wrapped around her blue plastic cup, knees drawn up and chin nestled between them.

Things were easy, then – on the bicycle of their lives; two wheels holding up the frame in equal measure. At least – that’s how Yvette remembers them, and refuses to remember further. Texas was honey-sweet and bourbon-rich; Yvette was raised between their dry front lawn and the neighbors, the block a kingdom for her bare feet to conquer. She was a wild thing, then, wiggling in her mother’s hands and in a furious race with the sun. The problem with the sun is that it goes down. The clock stops ticking at midnight, and the candles blow out. The screen door swings shut.

Yvette makes no secret of her dislike for Mom’s boyfriend. He’s tall and broad, with mean eyes like Mom taught her to look for. His hands are cracked and he smells more of cigarettes than her, too; reeks of them, and maybe that’s why Mom likes him so much – she thinks she can smoke him down, too. Yvette’s never had a taste for tobacco, not since she went to school on the first day of fourth grade and all the kids next to her held her nose. The only time Mom’s ever slapped her was when Yvette crushed all the unused packs under her boot.

So the first boyfriend is a bust, but it doesn’t stop Mom from bringing home the second or the third. By the fourth Yvette’s on the cusp of something she can’t quite reach, and she knows enough from her skimmed physics book to understand insanity. This time, she shuts the bedroom door and says nothing. Doesn’t stop Mom from falling back into the pendulum swing, though, and this time the speed picks up. Boyfriend Five nearly kicks her door down when all their friends go home and Six takes a fist full of her hair before Mom can stop him. She doesn’t wait to see what special brand of asshole Seven is – peel back the label and it’s all the same dented can.

Miami was an inside joke – another liquor-based confession Mom made on the couch with a smoke in her hand. It was a place to pin all their secret wants and wishes. You could be something, in Miami, something warm and pink and sun-dusted, a place where the sun doesn’t set and the sand is warm between their toes. A pipe-dream, Yvette echoed back and Mom nodded. Now, with Boyfriend Seven’s cash in her pocket, a bag on her back, and the rest of her life literally up in flames – why the fuck not? Everyone was always telling her to stop letting the world happen to her.

There wasn’t a lot Mom was right about – not Yvette’s dad, or her name, or any of those shitbags she ever brought home. She was maybe a little bit right about Miami, though. It was flamingo-pink and glittering. And no one gave a single shit. Not when Yvette grew her hair long, or rolled up her skirts, or walked into Planned Parenthood with her heart in her throat.

Mom finds her, eventually. It’s hard not to when Yvette made no secret of it and tended to implode her life every six months or so. It was all very dramatic – lots of wet mascara, tears, hands clasped in front of her like she was about to mutter six Hail Mary’s. The last boyfriend – was it Ten, now? Eleven? – finally put his hands on Mom and apparently that was something of a wakeup call. Not Yvette, gone in the night, with their cash and the garage like ground zero. Not all the times the kitchen vibrated like the base of a volcano, seconds from exploding. Still, Yvette opens her door. Mom sleeps on the couch now, goes to work with few words while Yvette sleeps in. They don’t say the M word. They don’t say the F or the H word either. This isn’t home and they aren’t really family. Yvette’s control is thin like fishing line. These days, to be honest, they don’t say much at all.

EXPANDED CONNECTIONS:

Hana Mercado: There is nothing about Yvette and Hana that will ever be calm and peaceful. From their first collision, like flintrock to tinder, Yvette knew she was going to love this stupid bitch forever. They’re like a tanner, taller Team Rocket – or Thelma & Louise, though Yvette doesn’t give herself too much time to contemplate which side of the hero/sidekick coin she falls on between the two of them. The honest to god truth is that there wasn’t much Yvette had before Hana – her mom, maybe, and 20 hours of week at the gas station where she could do fuck all and still get paid for it. It wasn’t even the power she wanted. She could feel it – maybe, buzzing at the base of her spine, but it wasn’t why, when Hana held their hand out, Yvette took it.

It was balance, restored. Yvette spent her life since eight reaching for it, open hands unmet. She thought she needed quiet, like a vacuum to suck out all the noise and rage vibrating inside her. She was so fucking fixated on it. But a counterbalance can never be empty space. Hana stepped on the other side of the scale – lightning to Yvette’s thunder; there, bright and flashing, for Yvette’s low rumble to follow. And that’s what they are – aren’t they? Storms for girls; blowing through the bay, darkening the sky and roughing up the surf; spitting out dunes like chewed gum.

But Yvette sees the way Hana’s been nudging her, pressing their foot down on Yvette’s side of the scale. They want to cut the wires, watch the clock tick down to zero, and Yvette can’t for the life of her understand why. Her whole life she’s ripped things out from the inside, ruined things to show herself she could; decided it was what she deserved. She doesn’t need Hana to do it for her, too. Yvette knows fully fuckin’ well what she’s capable of – and it scares her. The fear of it chokes her up, mangles her insides until she can’t breathe. The problem is, of course, that it’s Hana. Anyone else Yvette would’ve told to fuck right off by now – and shit, she probably already has. But Hana’s hand in hers is a grounding weight, and even without that she’s at risk of detonation.

EXTRA:

Headcanons:

-Yvette’s transportation of choice is her mom’s old roller skates that she rehabbed. She’s a frequent loiterer on the counters of her favorite skate shops, juggling wheels or messing with knuts and washes. As a result of both her hobby and general lack of care for her own wellbeing, she’s often sporting bruised knees and hands and a fair amount of road rash.

-As a natural consequence of her lack of experience and control, Yvette has set fire to a number of various buildings and infrastructure, including but not limited to: her mom’s garage, three gas stations, the neighbor’s yard, a playground swingset, herself (once, technically), two jetties, and some of Tatiana’s plants. She’s never been charged with arson.

-She has a habit of laughing in grossly inappropriate situations, and despite literally everything else about her that says otherwise – it’s almost never on purpose. It’s an anxious habit Yvette doesn’t know the origin of or how to stamp it out, but regardless: nervous, angry, scared, or frustrated, Yvette is going to laugh. Probably in your face. She might even feel sorry about it, but usually only if it gets her in trouble ( which, as one might expect, it very often does )

-The quickest way to Yvette’s heart is between her ribs and under her breastbone, but also: vaporwave edits of pop songs, alaskan thunder fuck, sour apple jolly ranchers, holo stickers, Bombay Sapphire gin, karaoke on acid, 80’s night at the roller rink, fresh blackberries, retro movies with running commentary, white samoyeds on walks down the boardwalk, really really dumb fucking puns, and the occasional baseball bat to an old tv screen.

Character parallels: Amma Crellin ( Sharp Objects ), Effy Stonem ( Skins ), Jules Vaughn ( Euphoria ), Ilyana Rasputina ( X-men ), Amy Elliot Dunne ( Gone Girl ), Lemony Snicket

This is so dumb but I basically see Yvette’s mom as an older Dakota Johnson? But when she was younger she was very much Dakota in A Bigger Splash ( see here ). Alternatively, an older Yvette?

Playlist / Pinterest / Moodboard

ANYTHING ELSE:

Magneto did nothing wrong; also,

#Accepted #accepted: mars

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matteredloyaltyaa · 4 years

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really LONG CHARACTER SURVEY. RULES.

repost , don’t reblog ! tag 10 ! good luck !

TAGGED. I stole it. TAGGING. Go for it. lol

FULL NAME : Arthur M/organ NICKNAME : A handful. English, Cowboy/Cowpoke, Black Lung, etc. Common aliases are Tacitus Kilgore and Arthur Callahan. AGE : 36. BIRTHDAY : January 25th, 1836. ETHNIC GROUP : Caucasian. NATIONALITY : American. LANGUAGE / S : English, primarily. Knew a handful of Welsh thanks to his father, but it’s faded with disuse. SEXUAL ORIENTATION : Bisexual, somewhat closeted. ROMANTIC ORIENTATION : Biromantic, somewhat closeted. RELATIONSHIP STATUS : Verse dependent, single-ship with @notanoutlaw in most. CLASS : Lower/working HOME TOWN / AREA : Arthur just mentions he was born “up north”, I headcanon around the Oregon area, possibly California due to his mother’s favorite flower, but it’s uncertain. Though, the place he laments the most about is New Austin, or “out west”. CURRENT HOME : Transitory, he moves with the gang. PROFESSION : Outlaw, occasional bounty hunter.

PHYSICAL. HAIR : Light brown, dark blonde in some lights. EYES : Unique eye colour, blue-grey-sorta hazel. NOSE : Average, dimpled. Scarred from fighting and getting it broken a couple times. FACE : Somewhat sharp features in the brow and cheekbones, square jaw. LIPS : Full, can be dry/chapped. COMPLEXION : Somewhat clear? Hard to tell. Dry, dirt spattered sometimes. BLEMISHES : Uncertain. SCARS : A handful. Most notable are the one he has on his chin that is most visible with shorter facial hair, one across his nose, and the one left on his shoulder by the O’Driscolls in chapter 3. TATTOOS : N/A HEIGHT : 6′0, possibly 6′1 WEIGHT : Uncertain, fluctuates. BUILD : Stocky, broad shouldered and he can be fairly intimidating, especially when his weight is about average or above. FEATURES : Look above? ALLERGIES : N/A USUAL HAIR STYLE : Right parted, about 3-5 in length. Though, for people who don’t know the system--fairly short, tufts out around his ears and may reach the back of his neck before he cuts it again. USUAL FACE LOOK : Expression wise, his kind of got a resting irritated face, sometimes bored. Rarely clean shaven unless he has to be, usually keeps a fair amount of stubble. USUAL CLOTHING : I change him too much to say. Tends to keep his heavy navy blue winter jacket, jeans/ranch pants, some sort of button up shirt, and sometimes his tan leather jacket. Tends to keep his hat, however, unless he needs to go without.

PSYCHOLOGY. FEAR / S : Arthur has a mild one of change. He’s adaptable but he’s very sentimental and nostalgic, he will miss “old ways” and previous places. There’s also losing his usefulness, disappointing those who depend on him (much as he will get defensive when it happens). Post-Guarma, he does develop a fear of drowning. It won’t keep him from swimming, but getting swept or held underwater may cause some panic. Post-game au, he does fear about getting sick again and actively avoids doctors. ASPIRATION / S : Uncertain, just wants to get out of the mess he’s in and eventually just wants a calm existence somewhere. However, once he’s diagnosed with TB, his main goal is getting those who want/will listen to him out of the gang as it starts to fall down. POSITIVE TRAITS : Caring, compassionate (to people he knows, might not be clear on first impression), intelligent (much as he may say the opposite and isn’t exactly book smart), observational, brave, humorous (in certain situations and may be a cover sometimes), friendly (somewhat, changes as he ages), artistic, creative, loyal, etc. NEGATIVE TRAITS : Violent, murderer (doesn’t do it without reason but he knows he’s killed more than he certainly should), defensive, (passive) aggressive, sarcastic, depressive, self-deprecating, selfish, rude (sometimes intentional, sometimes not), conflicted, stubborn, reckless (sometimes, has mellowed out with age but it’s still there), self destructive (sometimes), money-driven (not always a flaw but he’s easily swayed by money). MBTI : ISFJ-T - Turbulent Defender ZODIAC : Aquarius TEMPERAMENT : Phlegmatic-Melancholic ANIMALS : I’m not going to take the quiz because the game is very heavy handed with the whitetail buck motif for high honor Arthur. lol VICE HABIT / S : Smoking, drinking, etc. FAITH : Non-religious. GHOSTS ? : Generally, the existence of ghosts isn’t something he completely writes off after he’s witnessed the few in the game, but he’s also hard pressed to admit to believing in them outright. AFTERLIFE ? : Not in any sort of defined sense. He’ll often say he doesn’t believe in one or it won’t be a nice one for him if there is, but he finds himself nervous about the subject once he gets sick. REINCARNATION ? : He doesn’t know enough about it. ALIENS ? : Not really? Doesn’t really know he’s looking at a UFO when he sees it. POLITICAL ALIGNMENT : Don’t start. ECONOMIC PREFERENCE : Uncertain. SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION : Uncertain. EDUCATION LEVEL : Does not have a formal education on even the basic levels (primary, high school, etc), however Hosea and Dutch have taught him to read and write and he’s learned a handful of things when it comes to survival and his lifestyle. However, he’s not exactly book smart or the “book learnin’ type”.

FAMILY. FATHER : Lyle M/organ, deceased. MOTHER : Beatrice M/organ, deceased. SIBLINGS : No blood related, but considers John as one along with a couple other members of camp. EXTENDED FAMILY : He has a few uncles, aunts, and cousins, but he’s not in touch. Issac, his son, and his mother, Eliza, who are both deceased. Mary L/inton/Gillis, ex-fiance. (Cain Kennedy, lover - @notanoutlaw) NAME MEANING / S : Arthur - English, “noble, courageous”, Morgan - (and I’m going against what’s been said in fandom) - Celtic/Welsh surname, comes from Old Welsh name Morcant - “mor” as “sea” and “cant” as “circle”. HISTORICAL CONNECTION ? : Uncertain in the game, but it’s been pointed out about King Arthur and also Morgan le Fay, which highlights his struggle with good vs evil themes in his character.

FAVOURITES. BOOK : Uncertain, mostly non-fiction. MOVIE : -- 5 SONGS : -- DEITY : Doesn’t know enough to give a favorite. HOLIDAY : Christmas, in a way. Not quite for the religious context, but he enjoys the hunting and cooking the gang does to celebrate, singing and talking over fires. He remembers it vividly when he was younger, so it’s stuck with him. MONTH : April-May. SEASON : late spring, early summer. PLACE : He likes most places in wilderness, give him something with a view and he’s good. WEATHER : Sunny, average weather. Not too hot, not too cold. SOUND : Rain, birds, etc. SCENT / S : Again, rain, campfires, etc. TASTE / S : Prefers savory over sweet. FEEL / S : Weightlessness in his limbs once he’s able to sit/lay down after a long day, fingers in his hair, etc. ANIMAL / S : Horses, dogs, cats, animals. NUMBER : He hasn’t given it much thought. COLOUR : Blues, greens, deeper colours.

EXTRA. TALENTS : Sharpshooting, Arthur’s got impeccable aim and speed when using guns, there’s also his drawing, he’s getting fairly good at tracking, etc. BAD AT : Admitting to mistakes, expressing himself emotionally, adhering to rules, anything overly scientific, etc. TURN ONS : Sense of humor, confidence or self-assurance, kindness and/or compassion, dark hair, etc. TURN OFFS : Hypocrisy (much as he suffers from that himself), cockiness (has a limit before confidence becomes a turn off), excessive or needless cruelty, etc. HOBBIES : Drawing, writing in his journal, hunting, wandering around/sight seeing, etc. TROPES : Anti-Hero/Anti-Villain,The Atoner, The Big Guy, Jerk with a Heart of Gold, Obfuscating Stupidity, etc. AESTHETIC TAGS : Horses, old west, deserts, nature, gun slinging, writing, drawing, photography, etc.

FC INFO. MAIN FC / S : R/oger Clark, mainly in game icons so I haven’t found a need for one. ALT FC / S : -- OLDER FC / S : -- YOUNGER FC / S : -- VOICE CLAIM / S : R/oger Clark GENDERBENT FC / S :

MUN QUESTIONS. Q1 : if you could write your character your way in their own movie , what would it be called , what style would it be filmed in , and what would it be about ? A1 : I actually REALLY enjoy the game’s story line, much as I feel the redemption through death is overplayed and not as deep as people make it out to be. I’d find a way to subvert that or some alternative, but idk. I like the game’s story. lol

Q2 : what would their soundtrack / score sound like ? A2 : Western-y. IDK? The game’s soundtrack is actually really good too so. Q3 : why did you start writing this character ? A3 : I love his development and progression as a character, and even with the trailers where he seemed no more than an angry outlaw there was a part of me that was still “hmm” about writing him. Ultimately, he’s grown to mean a lot to me and I really enjoy writing for him on this blog. Q4 : what first attracted you to this character ? A4: As mentioned above, Arthur probably has one of the best character progressions I’ve seen in a while imo. Even in the beginning, I went in under the impression that I’d be playing as this outlaw so the violence and gruffness wasn’t too much of a surprise, much as I wasn’t too attached until later chapters in the game because of this. However, as I spent more time playing as him and reading his journal, seeing how he interacts with strangers and people he loves, he has some depth to him and some deep rooted flaws and insecurities that are played very well in the game. He’s probably one of the few character deaths I’ve cried over. lol Q5 : describe the biggest thing you dislike about your muse. A5 : I have to be truthful, Arthur’s an asshole. lol I didn’t like and still don’t like him from Colter into Horseshoe in behavior and personality, much as it’s lessened from my first play of the game because I know what happens to him and how he grows. However, while he’s not blind to himself and how he acts, he doesn’t think for himself really. Even if he hates debt collecting, he does it for the gang and even tells Strauss he does it for pleasure at a point (sarcastic or not, considering they are talking about Thomas, a man trying to raise money for charity while suffering poverty himself on top of having TB), he does whatever Dutch tells him, among many other things. It’s not until later in the game that the theme of grasping redemption comes into play, and he starts to act and think for himself a little more once things start to spiral. As much as I love him with all my heart, Arthur’s got some deep flaws that are hard to ignore. Q6 : what do you have in common with your muse ? A6 : HHHhh. I’d say we suffer from similar self-esteem issues, not just in body image but morality of character (much as his are way more complicated than mine jaksfha), we also have a similar sense of humor...Yeah, idk. I’m attached to him as a character and I can relate to him in certain ways, but it’s hard to pinpoint. Q7 : how does your muse feel about you ? A7 : Idk, he’s pixels? Though, for the sake of a fun answer, I genuinely don’t know? We can be fairly similar in mannerisms and thought process (at points), but I have no idea if we’d actually get along if by some universe rip we were able to meet. Q8 : what characters does your muse have interesting interactions with ? A8: I don’t want to get specific, I interact with a lot of interesting characters. Anybody who’s put me out of a comfort zone or forced me to look at Arthur in the different way has definitely stood out. Q9 : what gives you inspiration to write your muse ? A9 : The game itself is a good source, I enjoy putting up lets plays of it in the background sometimes if I’m struggling or just need something that isn’t music. I get more muse putting together blog playlists than playing them, but there’s that, too. Also generally plotting or talking about him can pull some to the forefront. Q10 : how long did this take you to complete ? A10 : An hour or so, I think?

#hey i'm already damned . || about .#ain't us who changed . || headcanon .#/// long post #[I love how once it got into paranormal experiences I had to account for the fact some of those things exist as things in canon lmao]

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ghostofviperwrites · 4 years

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So Beautiful

Requested by @kurominonsense

Pairing: Sanada/FC

Category: NSFW

A/N: I’m sure you were hoping for fluffy cute Sanada love, but he did not want to come out to play. Asshole Sanada demanded some attention. This became a prequel of sorts to “I’m Yours"

“You’re so beautiful.” and “Dance with me!”

“There’s no way, Sanada, I’m telling you.” Hiromu Takahashi said shaking his head at Seiya Sanada’s intended target for the night. “That is a classy woman. There is no way you are talking her into fucking you tonight.”

“Really Hiromu, are you really doubting my protégé?” Tetsuya Naito asked his friend. “I have faith in Sanada. If any of us can get her to spread her legs tonight, it is him. He is too pretty for women to say no to.”

“Thank you Naito. It’s nice to know someone has faith in me.” Sanada replied, casually sticking his middle finger up in Hiromu’s direction holding back a grin when the little shit replied in like kind using Daryl’s paw. Hiromu wasn’t wrong though, he thought looking back at the woman he had chosen. She was a classy woman. Dressed in designer wear, not a hair out of place. Drinking red wine with an air of disdain to her. That was why he wanted her. He liked to dirty them up. Knock those women who thought they were so prissy and proper down a few pegs. The only problem with them is sometimes they were too much work. Sanada did not like to work for it. A lot of times the classy broads were easy for him. He was a gorgeous man with money and designer clothes. Sometimes that was all it took. This woman looked like work. Heaving a sigh Sanada cursed himself for his big mouth. If he hadn’t mentioned he was going to have her, Hiromu wouldn’t have smarted off and Sanada wouldn’t have a point to prove. Then he could just get the easy fuck he was really looking for. But no, he had to save face now. He had to fuck that woman to prove his point to Hiromu and show Naito he was right for backing him. If he failed he would not only have to deal with those two, but they would run their mouths to Evil and Bushi when their asses finally arrived. He would never hear the end of it.

Reaching for his wine glass Sanada caught Naito’s expression of commiseration and understanding. How many times had Naito been in a very similar situation? Having to go after something they didn’t even want any more to prove a damn point. Signaling their waiter Sanada requested a glass of the red wine at their table be delivered to her. When the waiter delivered it, he could already see the woman’s nose wrinkling in disdain ready to refuse the drink until the waiter discretely pointed Sanada out. With a smile Seiya bowed his head and rose his glass to her before turning back to his table mates. He would let her sit for a few moments. Let her enjoy that wine. He already knew exactly how it would play out. How it always played out. She would drink and ask the waiter what it was that had been sent to her. Then she would pull out the little drink menu and her eyes would bulge and a smile would finally melt that ice queen expression on her face and she would begin to cast glances in his direction growing irritated that his back was to her and he seemed to be paying her no mind. Naito would let him know when the time was right. At Naito’s subtle nod several moments later Sanada pushed himself away from the table, smoothing down his suit and excusing himself.

Moving into the woman’s line of sight Sanada put on what Naito referred to as his panty dropper smile, pleased to see the immediate effect it had on the woman who straightened herself, holding her shoulders proudly as she took a sip of the wine Sanada had sent over.

“May I?” He asked smoothly, indicating the empty stool at her table. At her nod of consent Sanada bowed graciously extending his hand in greeting. When hers was his he placed a soft kiss on the back of her hand as he introduced himself. “Seiya Sanada.”

“Y/N, Y/L/N,” She replied with a tight smile.

“Did you enjoy the wine?” He asked settling himself on the stool.

“I did.” She answered primly, seemingly hating making the concession but unwilling to lie.

“And would you be so inclined to join me for dinner?” He asked nodding in the direction of the fine dining establishment on the other side of the hotel lobby. He knew she was already going to say yes even as she pretended to consider his request. It was one of the finest restaurants in the city, and almost impossible to get into.

“I would be happy to join you for dinner. However, I do not think we will be able to dine there.” She finally responded. “It is extremely popular and very difficult to get a table without a reservation.

Sanada gave a smile full of confidence signaling over the waiter once again. In rapid fire Japanese Sanada ordered a bottle of wine and requested a table be procured for them for dinner. As they were waiting he put on the full court press having to put in much more effort than he wished as she was being rather standoffish while she waited to discover if he had enough clout to get them a table. She was very surprised when not five minutes after their wine had been delivered the Maître’ D from across the restaurant arrived to personally escort them to one of the best tables in the house.

Once they were seated and their wine poured they made small chat as a live quartet began playing soft slow music by the dance floor. Sanada rose to his feet and extended his hand with a courtly bow.

“Dance with me?” He asked smiling as she placed her hand in his and allowed him to lead her out onto the floor. The two slow danced, bodies swaying together to the music, making small talk and flirting lightly as Sanada gently ran his hands down her back and to the curve of her hips as they danced. He could tell she wasn’t immune to his charms and he would definitely be able to get her into his bed, but it was going to take some work. She was a tough one, he would give her credit.

Returning to their table Sanada held her chair for her, ever the perfect gentleman when necessary before a waiter appeared to take their order.

“What are you staring at?” She asked self-consciously as Sanada stared intently at her through the glow of the candlelight.

“You’re so beautiful.” Sanada said making sincerity burn in his gaze.

“Thank you, but a few pretty words aren’t going to get me to fall into bed with you.” She warned, trying to regain the upper hand she could almost feel she was losing.

Sanada straightened up putting a disappointed expression on his face.

“Y/N, do you think I would expend all this trouble just to get a woman to sleep with me? If I just wanted to get you into bed I wouldn’t have expended so much effort. Look at me, I can get women without having to buy thousand dollar glasses of wine or take them to the most expensive dinner in the city. I did not approach you simply to bed you, I approached you because I was attracted to you and I wanted to get to know you.” He said earnestly. “As the night has gone on, I have quickly became enamored of you. I am yours, in every way you’ll have me.”

With those well placed words Sanada watched her ice melt and a genuine smile lit up her face for the first time. Gotcha he thought with an internal smirk.

#sanada fanfic #sanada imagine #njpw fanfic #wrestling fanfic #mywriting #ghostofviperwrites

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parabellum-rpg-archive · 5 years

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Congratulations, Marie! You’ve been accepted to play Sofia Costello. Your request to change her FC to Zoey Deutch, has also been accepted. Please make your page and send it in within 24 hours.

Admin note: This audition was incredible, and it was so hard to pick from because we had three different Sofia auditions. You were so detailed, even just in describing Sofia’s names. You’re an incredible writer - welcome to the group! - Admin V

CHARACTER DESIRED.

I will be applying for the lovely Sofia Costello.

SOFIA ( soh - fee - uh ) — “wisdom, skill” :

Not many people see it, the intelligence that hides in Sofia Costello’s eyes. When they hear that she’s a socialite, and aside from that, uninvolved in the family business, frivolous to a fault and with a dramatic streak to boost, it’s not exactly something they look for. But there’s a reason Sofia practically breezed through private school, there’s a reason she does live up to her first name, even without her parents knowing when they picked it out what she’d turn out to be like. When she applies herself to something Sofia can be a whirlwind of ambition and determination, pushing herself until she masters whatever her goal is.

GUINEVERE ( gwin - iv - eer ) — “white enchantress” :

There was no surprise that her middle name became a tribute to her recently deceased mother. The terrible accident, the twins’ first few weeks of life spent in the NICU, Sofia still believes there must have been some higher power, someone watching over them, to make sure they actually made it out of that hospital alive. In her heart, she believes it was Guinevere herself, who couldn’t pass on to the afterlife until she knew her babies were safe. Not one typically for religion, this is the one belief she clings onto tightly, with both her hands and one that has made her carry the middle name with nothing but absolute pride.

COSTELLO ( cos - tell - oh ) — “little castle” :

Despite her never caring much about the family business, Sofia would do anything, absolutely anything, for the other Costellos. Much like her middle name, she wears the surname with pride, not for the power it’s associated with ( though, despite her disregard for the business, she still quite liked that part ) but for the people. Her parents, her siblings, her cousin — she loves them dearly, which is quite possibly also why she’s so against her darling brother, her twin, her Luca marrying Paisley Sinclair, not when Juliet already brought him so much heartache. Not when he deserved so much better than that.

DESCRIBE THE CHARACTER IN YOUR OWN WORDS.

There are so many things Sofia Costello is to me. From reading her biography, I immediately got the sense that she is not the type of girl that can be described with a single trope, that she is probably a lot more than people give her credit for, too. Then I started reading through the other biographies related to her own, saw that Marcel saw her as assertive & unafraid of a challenge and that Luca’s noted that the twins could get away with almost anything, especially when Sofia flashed the doe eyes her parents adored. I kind of fell in love with her even more, and I also started to understand just how broad this character is.

I think the first thing that came to mind for me when looking at Sofia was mafia princess, though mostly focussing on the latter part. A socialite, who basically ignored her family’s business, but enjoyed the luxuries of it anyway. Taking after the mother that raised her, being good at getting what she wanted, and throwing a fit when she didn’t. I think I’d build on this by saying that Sofia is probably very dramatic and overindulged, but also that she is very confident and charismatic. That there is a regal air around her, and that it makes it easy for people to have a skewed perception of who she really is, for people to underestimate her, but never test out of she is really naive, in fear of her family’s rage. I also think that it makes her powerful in social situations, knowing she can snag the attention of a room with just a few quick gestures, knowing she can play the game of power struggles as well as anyone.

The second thing I really thought about was her being a bit of a trouble maker. Sure, she focussed on her studies and goals enough to make sure she was the best, but when she could talk herself out of almost anything — how does it not become tempting to try and indulge. I think she kind of embodies that ( I hate myself for making a Gossip Girl reference in the year of our lord 2019 but it’s been burned into my head and I can not get it out ) Serena van der Woodsen feel, where she is legendary for partying and getting into trouble, but still beloved enough for none of it to really matter. I also think that like Luca, she probably held the Costello name over her peers, letting them know that she could do anything, get away with anything, because of the family she hails from.

Finally, I think that currently, at this moment in time, Sofia is changing. I think she realized that with her twin brothers’ marriage to their enemy, she could no longer remain uninvolved. After never really having any interest in the family business, she suddenly wishes to push herself right into the middle of things, for her brothers’ sake, to keep him out of a loveless marriage, especially when Juliet Carmichael had already dragged him down a hole of addiction and obsession. I think her interest in their family affairs is also growing, and I think that once all of this is done, there is no way for her to go back to her regular life.

WRITING SAMPLE.

writing sample one.

So. Getting involved in underage drinking and then mistaking a police officer for a stripper, Sofia could admit it to herself, this was not exactly one of her finest moments. She had done worse things, of course, but those her parents did not find out about. Yet. This one, unfortunately for her, they had. In her defense, the police officer looked exactly like that new stripper at the Venetian, and she’d thought he’d definitely recognize his owners’ daughter. Also in her defense, the drinks at Sapphire were not to be messed with. She’d only had a few glasses, but was already swaying on her feet — and considering someone had tried to champagne shower her, she now reeked of alcohol too. “Please officer — I’m so sorry”, Sofia had looked at him with those pleading eyes that only very rarely were denied. Apparently, the cop was a little too insulted at how she’d tried to use his handcuffs in ways they definitely weren’t meant for because he wasn’t buying it. Not even the slightest bit.

She’d considered calling Luca, or even Mia when she reached the station, hoping they could just come get her out without much hassle, but as soon as she entered the building, one of the officers’ superiors recognized her, and after berating the man for picking up Marcel Costello’s daughter, he placed her at his desk, a blanket to keep her warm wrapped tightly around her shoulders and a mug of hot chocolate in her hands as he called a secure contact to connect him to her parents. “Damn it”, she swore under her breath, knowing that all she wanted to do was fall into her bed and sleep for the next ten hours — not being forced to work her magic on both her parents in the middle of the night.

Luckily for her, it was not her parents that came to pick her up, but one of their underlings, so she had time to prepare the speech. I just went out for a little celebratory drink, I promise. My friend Nadine got engaged yesterday, and us girls had to take her out for the night, of course! She’s absolutely ecstatic about it, I’ll make sure to get some extra invitations to the wedding, her father is the CEO of some large, Fortune 500 company, so you know the nuptials will be lavish. Sorry, I’ll get back to the story. So, Christie — you know her right, with the nose job? She ordered the drinks, and I guess there was alcohol in them, I didn’t even taste any, I swear! And then we get outside, and Nadine thinks that lovely police officer was a stripper we hired just for her, and when we realized he wasn’t, it was already too late. At that point, she’d let those beautiful doe eyes of hers fill with tears, and a regretful expression would fall over her face. She’d apologize at least twice more, come up with some more excuses, and eventually, they’d tell her to just go get some rest, that it was all okay.

And Sofia would never hear about it again.

writing sample two.

Her rage was like a burning, living thing. It was fire, coursing down her veins, into every single cell of her being, taking over, turning her into pure, undiluted anger. It had been building from the moment the family discussion about this betrothal had started. She’d seen some slivers of feelings about this whole situation in her family’s eyes, some of her own feelings reflected in those, too, but she didn’t think any of them were as powerful as hers. Sofia had retreated into herself, the rage building up as she sat there, silently, barely being able to hear what anyone was saying over those feelings. When finally the attention shifted to her, to the way she seemed to glow red hot, she’d looked up at her father, her words almost like the hiss of a viper, so sharp. “You are not whoring out my brother to some enemy bitch,” The last word had been spat out, and it was like her self control snapped. She’d raged and cried and yes, even begged, but there was no budging, not this time. So she’d stormed out, telling them they’d all rot in hell for this and didn’t let anyone near her for weeks.

It had been hell — absolute torture for her to refuse contact with her family. She did not want to see any of their faces, did not want to hear any of their pleas to just come back, to just talk to them, at least. She flinched every time she saw Luca’s name pop up on her phone screen, and wanted to smash her phone against the wall every time she pressed the deny call button. Sofia learned a surprising lot about her own power of self-restraint during those weeks, how long she could hold out, how to hide her hurt and anger behind a blank, emotionless face. Let them see her empty space at the table and realize what they’d done. Just like her father, she refused to budge on this, and only when she realized it herself, by her own intelligence and being let alone with her thoughts for so long, did she return to them.

When she barged in after weeks of no contact, Sofia strutted towards her father with that sense of confidence she had always possessed, showing absolutely no sign of anger or how upset she was, she just looked him into the eyes and told him that if this was happening, she wanted to be more involved in the business. She only offered a brief ‘family duty’ as an explanation of why. To be fair, it was true. But it was her loyalty towards Luca, specifically, that was the reason behind it. During her self-imposed exile, Sofia had realized that they all probably just saw this as the only solution to their troubles with the Sinclairs, and if she wanted to get her brother out of it, she’d have to know all the pieces involved in the game they’ve been playing since the Medici’s were chased out of Chicago.

After all, you can’t win in chess unless you have a proper view of the entire gameboard.

#accepted

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dapperfvck-arc · 7 years

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BASIC.

FULL NAME. John Constantine NICKNAME. officially, Conjob, mostly from his days on the punk scene. On the esoteric side of things he may be referred to “The Laughing Magician” or, more derisively “a petty dabbler”. BIRTHDAY. May 10 (by original Hellblazer canon, he was born in 1953, but I’ve taken it upon myself to adjust his birth year to some time in the early 70s give or take) ETHNIC GROUP. Caucasian NATIONALITY. English (with strongly implied deep Russian roots) LANGUAGE. English, basic grasp of most major European languages, profound fluency in dead/magical/infernal languages SEXUAL ORIENTATION. Bisexual af RELATIONSHIP STATUS. Verse/continuity dependent, though this blog is fairly heavily multi-ship. However, it should be noted that on the MCU continuity, John is in an exclusive, committed relationship with Matt Murdock ( @dcviltongued ) CLASS. Middle to lower class. Is very good at getting fast money (scams, gambling, dealing in magic artifacts/antiques of questionable quality and veracity) so may appear to be better off at certain times HOME TOWN / AREA. Liverpool, England, but has been living in London since leaving the family home at 17. CURRENT HOME. Heavily verse/continuity/thread dependent. John is a frequent traveller. PROFESSION. Somewhat verse/continuity dependent. Really it’s just a matter of whether or not he charges for exorcisms or magic rituals. My personal endgame for John is legitimacy. Like becoming a preternatural PI (and sometimes mundane) for hire or whatever. As a general rule though, his profession is con artist. He’s never worked a honest day’s work in his life. The closest he ever got was when he was a “rock star”. He could also be considered a professional gambler, patronizing horse tracks, underground card games, legal casinos, and I imagine can hustle at pool. Scams range from blackmail to using his reputation as an occultist to take advantage of people willing to pay for spell work.

PHYSICAL.

HAIR. Short and usually rather messy. He rocks bedhead pretty aggressively. May be shaved and very short on the sides and styled into a faux to actual mohawk. He’s very blonde despite not getting very much sun as a general. EYES. Electric blue, often almost fever bright. Deep and captivating, extremely intense straight on. NOSE. difficult to pin down due to the range of styles in which John have been drawn. Usually broad and more or less regular, occasionally somewhat crooked from being broken, though by and large, it’s portrayed as straight. Some artists, such as Moriat and Sean Murphy have drawn it as narrow and somewhat aquiline. I guess, I tend lean toward the former despite my deep love for Murphy’s interpretation of John, simply because I feel like my choice in FC is somewhat based on Tim Bradstreet and Leonardo Manco’s artistic interpretations of John, both of which I honestly adore just as well. FACE. Yet another loooong explanation here, I’m sorry. Artists tend to lean between giving him either a square face, classically handsome appearance (Steve Dillon, John Higgins, Ron Tiner, most of artists that have drawn him in the DC titles he’s appeared in), a broader, more every man appearance (Sean Phillips, Leonardo Manco to some degree, though later proved quite capable of drawing him stunningly handsome, and Tim Bradstreet), however still attractive but somewhat more haggard, stubbled, and/or slightly seedy in appearance, and finally a sharper, more diamond shape to his face featuring high cheekbones, a pointed chin and fine bone structure (Sean Murphy, Marcelo Frusin, and Moriat). Once more, in reference to my face claim for John, I suppose I tend to favour a more classically handsome appearance, simply because I like the idea of him having a pleasant, almost trustworthy face given that he is a con artist and considered an extremely good one (sometimes even the greatest con artist alive but idk whatever), and I feel like looking as dodgy as say, Frusin’s interpretation, I can’t imagine him being as successful as he is, you feel me? That guy looks like he’ll fuck you over for a corn chip. LIPS. Sensuous, faintly lined from his his smoking habit COMPLEXION. Like any good Englishman that tends to move about by night and quite a bit dressed, John’s very pale. I do think he has a faintly pronounced undertone of pink. This colour will get brighter when he gets drunk, aroused, angry, or the exceedingly rare instance that he’s embarrassed BLEMISHES. None SCARS. Aside from the scarification, which is better off detailed in the next section, and I ALWAYS FORGET TO MENTION THIS, he definitely has a long scar over one eye from a demon trying to cut it out with a blade. Since many magic rituals call for blood, I head canon that he also has faint scarring on his arms because he doesn’t practice human or animal sacrifice and his own blood instead.

TATTOOS. Arse tattoo of pine tree courtesy of Swamp Thing being a punk bitch, ritual tattoos faded into appearing as scarification. HEIGHT. 5′11 (184.34 cm) WEIGHT: prolly ranges between 150-160lbs (140 at his lightest) BUILD. Long legs, somewhat of a broad upper torso, can be a bit soft in the middle. In general, he’s rather thin but his musculature is not usually very defined. In other words, no big, sexy pecs or cut abs. If anything he’s more sleek lines and narrow planes. ALLERGIES. none USUAL HAIR STYLE. Freshly fucked USUAL CLOTHING. Dark suits, usually dark blue or black and trench coat, usually tan, has also been portrayed as black, yellow, or a mossy kinda green. In theory it could be said that these aren’t just differing interpretations from artists but that John owns coats in different colours, styles, and fabrics, but his favourite is the tan, longer style

PSYCHOLOGY.

FEAR. abandonment, amounting to nothing, not being able to protect those he cares about ASPIRATION. survival, making some kind of mark on this world, a measure of contentment POSITIVE TRAITS. Compassionate and determined, above all. Though not about to admit to it, he's still deeply idealistic. Strangely forgiving. He doesn’t really keep grudges. Loving, considerate, understanding, and rarely judgmental NEGATIVE TRAITS. Those good things up above? They’re encased in a shell of harsh cynicism and apathy. Depending on his mood or particular part of his life depends on how hard a shell he is to crack. He may also experience depressive periods where he doesn’t give a shit about anyone or anything and just wants to drink. VICE HABIT. Chain smokes, drinks, frequency dependent on what’s up in his life, though I do not believe he’s an alcoholic, sorry, because lol look, drinking a lot doesn’t mean you have a dependency. Indulges in drugs infrequently, mostly hallucinogens and weed, though I also tend to head canon that he flirted with a cocaine habit while fronting Mucous Membrane. FAITH. It’s complicated GHOSTS? Duh. He sees them plain as any living person AFTERLIFE? Yeah, but uh, he doesn’t consider them eternal respites. They’re just planes of existence that he can either enter, leave, or pull people out. REINCARNATION? Maybe? ALIENS? I meeeeaannn....technically in DCU he’s acquainted with the concept of aliens and may or may not have fucked Hal Jordan POLITICAL ALIGNMENT. Liberal ECONOMIC PREFERENCE. comfortable SOCIOPOLITICAL POSITION. working class warlock EDUCATION LEVEL. Predominately self-educated. His frightfully intelligent and has been cited as having genius level intellect. Although I’m not sure I’d go so far as confirm that, I do thing he’s extremely clever and pragmatic. School bored him to tears and he was the type of kid the counselors and teachers say “exceedingly bright but unwilling to apply himself”. He reads voraciously, has an eidetic memory, and isn’t afraid of putting himself in new situations.

FAMILY.

FATHER. Thomas (dead, murdered by the Family Man) MOTHER. Mary Anne (died in child birth) SIBLINGS. Cheryl (murdered by husband, currently residing in Hell), an unnamed twin brother referred to as the Golden Child or Boy, the true heir to the Laughing Magician (stillborn, soul was later absorbed by John in trippy magic ritual, only to be expelled later in life when it was revealed that...uh...he was influencing John’s destiny to be perpetually sabotaged. Hellblazer’s a weird comic, you guys) EXTENDED FAMILY. Gemma, his niece. They have a rather stormy relationship. Chas, his best mate. Lovers may also be included in this. NAME MEANING. John: Jehovah has been Gracious/Shown Favour (lmao) Constantine: Constant, steadfast, generally referred to as “The Constant One”

HISTORICAL CONNECTION. Is strongly implied that John’s related, if perhaps distantly, to Constantine the Great.

FAVOURITES.

BOOKS. Prefers non-fiction MUSIC. Rock music, most notably 70s and 80s era punk rock. Likes the Pogues. Given the stack of evidence that John skirts the edge of the Goth scene cos he likes the aesthetic on women, I have a feeling he’s adopted into his music tastes. The Cure, Smiths, and Cocteau Twins in reference to an 80s mixtape John might make. Which i question the Smiths heavily, but The Cure and Cocteau Twins seems fairly legit. I bet Kit loved the Cocteau Twins. In that same vein of thought, although I tend to think John doesn’t like electronic music, he may have adopted some industrial bands into his preferences but he’s not about to talk about ti any time soon. DEITY. Whichever one doesn’t hate him HOLIDAY. doesn’t care MONTH. same SEASON. Fall PLACE. London or New York, in the case of sentimentality that he will never be able to get back to, the years when he was bumming around Ireland with Brenden and Kit WEATHER. Overcast SOUND. He’s a city boy through and through, even if he may get frustrated with society on a whole, so he’s comforted by city sounds more than silence SCENT. A freshly poured pint, the first cigarette of the day, skin and sex sweat TASTE. Gin FEEL. He’s a sensualist. Body to body, breathing another person’s breath, his please, another person’s pleasure, his pleasure, all that good stuff. I also feel like he enjoys being drunk or stoned for the sake of having his thoughts dulled to a degree. He’s the sort of man who has lots of thoughts and situational observational input. John is basically perpetually mentally overstimulated and he likes the relief from that in inebriation. ANIMAL. Fox NUMBER. hahaha idea numerology man COLOUR. warm and neutral tones

EXTRA.

TALENTS. So many. He’s a jack of all trades in a lot of ways. He can pick a lock, displays some artistic talent in that he can draw very intricate magic circles and sigils, if you consider that John wrote Venus of the Hardsell, he’s clearly got some ability to express himself in lyrics and words, i like to think he can play guitar, is apparently good with delicate craftsmanship (he used to help Dani build furniture for her dollhouses. This is canon by the way), suppose you could say he can sort of sing, but that’s debatable, and of course he’s very manipulative and speaks very well, is educated enough to be able to bullshit through various situations. TURN ONS. Total ass man, loves a great ass on a man or woman, dark hair, dark eyes, strong men, he’s a switch, but loves being manhandled and dominated to a degree, by either gender, honestly, danger, open affection, being wanted, loved, and cherished. So many things, honestly. John Constantine is easy. TURN OFFS. Hardcore kink HOBBIES. Sleep, pub crawls, pretending he’s normal, reading TROPES. Con man with a heart of gold, charming bastard, unrepentant rogue, urban magician, supernatural detective, living legend AESTHETICS. smoke, chalk dust, wind and rain swept streets, London after midnight, narrow, dark alleys, haunted places, rumpled bed sheets, messy hair, dive bars, wicked smiles, deep kisses

FC INFO.

MAIN FC. Ewan McGregor // comic caps from various issues he’s appeared ALT FC. Keanu Reeves for my filmverse OLDER FC. Don’t have one as yet YOUNGER FC. Ewan McGregor VOICE CLAIM. Jason Stathem

Tagged by: @vamptrampbamf Tagging: lmao fuckin everyone.

#;about

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netherwar-rpg-blog · 7 years

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Welcome to the Wardens, Sav! Your application for THE SORCERER has been accepted with a Adetomiwa Edun FC.

The application can be found under the cut. You have 48 hours to create a roleplay account (cannot be a sideblog) for your character and we will be updating our opening date soon!

O O C - I N F O

Name: Savanah or Sav

Age: 20

Timezone: Pacific Standard

Activity Level: I am also apart of two other rps and work twenty hours a week right now. During the semester I go to school full time. However, I use writing as a stress reliever and almost guarantee that I’ll be on through a rotation every few days to do replies and the like. I would love to be as active as I can because I seriously love everything about the idea of this rp.

Extra: I do not necessarily have any triggers and am pretty game for most any plots, the darker the better. However, I do have anxiety and can occasionally be on and off because of it while I try to balance out RL things. When this happens, though it is rare, I will definitely keep both admins and writing partners in the loop.

S K E L E T O N - I N F O

T H E - B A S I C S

Skeleton Title: THE SORCERER

Name: Adebayo (‘he who was happy’) Adisa (‘the lucid one’); formerly surnamed: Ajanlekoko (‘the Dog is chasing the Wolf’)

Gender: Male

Age: 29

Class: Priest

Faceclaim: Adetomiwa Edun, please. I feel like his appearance would be a great contrast to the darkness of the character and make him very unassuming while other characters should be leery of him.

C H A R A C T E R - D E T A I L S

Nationality: Narfeni, particularly of the Dorubish people

Appearance: Adetomiwa Edun

When Adebayo stands it’s so people can see his eyes from beneath the hood of his habit, the only color in an otherwise darkened facial expression. He wants people to know that he is not a force to be reckoned with, despite his apparent joyful demeanor. His chest is broad and stance steady, a solid stone in the midst of the chaos raging in his head. When he stands he plants his feet, knees bent slightly as though compensating for a sway in the land no one else can feel. His hands are broad, palms wide and fingers strong, calloused by the work done with his father as a boy, before the family would move to Varthal. The bridge of his nose is tapered, delicate where the heaviness of his cheekbones and brow are not. It is why anyone speaking to him is drawn into his face, for it is open and friendly yet holds a quiet madness brewing beneath.

A scar graces the curve of his left eyebrow and stretches down into the hairline at his temple, a puckered pink arc from a hook that caught him across the face. Small little scars and callouses line his palms , though moreso on his left, and make his hands rough to the touch, unpleasant for someone in the business of healing as he is, or is believed to be. His feet look much the same, though the only time you’d see them is if you snuck up on him during meditation or in the bath.

The Sorcerer’s dress wars with his profession, at once a clash of two cultures. He holds onto the roots of his loud, brash, boisterous people in the threading and pattern work of his clothing, making his robes and other essentials as subtly ornate as he can. Adebayo craves color but as a Priest it was stripped from him during his studies, replaced by the dull whites and greys of his faction. Now, while he travels with the Wardens, Adebayo steeps himself in the richness of reds, blues, and purples when he can and contents himself with browns and black and their hidden subtleties when he cannot.

Personality:

➛ Articulate: Being raised by a merchant family, even if they lived off the sea, gave Adebayo a vast appreciation for his studies. His mother, in between having him help his father, taught him his letters and how to read and write them, as well as simple arithmetic. She was training him to take over the business even when there was a hint of something different about him. This early appreciation for learning served him well in the Citadel of Light, allowing him to raise to the top of his classes and become known as one of the most dedicated and powerful of the disciples.

➛Faithful: Adebayo’s faith is deeply rooted in the derision he began to feel for his people’s Oracles after the death of his sister at their hand. Moving to Varthal and witnessing the power, the true power that the Priests of the Holy Light possesses, gives him the ability to stray from this one tenant of his people’s deep-seated influence. This and the allure that the whispers offer him when he thinks about his little sister…

➛Steadfast: Despite some of the doubts that will always be at war in Adebayo’s mind, once he makes a decision he will stick to it. His is an unmoveable presence and offers strength and consolation to those who may be doubting their path or faith. In times such as these, it is this trait that Ade uses more now than ever.

➛Brash: Much like his people, Adebayo is loud and arrogant. He thinks he knows what is right and will assert himself in the middle of a discussion or argument to state his own opinions even if no one wants to hear them. Often when he’s in the heat of an argument, his articulate responses completely abandon him. He speaks without thinking and allows his emotions to overtake him. This can occasionally lean in his favor but the majority of the time it only results in people wanting to punch him.

➛Hotheaded: His father always said that they should have named him after the fires rather than the happiness they saw on his face as a babe. Growing up, Adebayo had no concept that to channel one’s anger was something that was acceptable. It was only through the Citadel that Ade began to understand he could harness his temper and his powers in the same breath, fearing that if he did not they would bar him from his studies. However, suppressing these angry outbursts only results in fierce debates, heated arguments, or explosive acts of epic proportions.

➛Secretive: Adebayo learned early on at the Citadel that if he wanted to achieve his true goals behind harnessing the Shadow element he would need to do so where no prying eyes could see. This mindset has bled into his life alongside the Wardens, a part of him for so long that it is almost impossible for him to turn off. Unless you are someone, like the Healer, whom he feels he can trust implicitly then he will hide pieces of himself from you even if he means no harm by it. He doesn’t like any one person to hold all of his cards, preferring to scatter them to the wind and see where they may fall.

C H A R A C T E R - B A C K G R O U N D

History:

Adebayo Ajanlekoko was the first-born son of his family, born into the life of a seafaring and trading that his father and his father’s father had all been a part of. He was meant to carry on that tradition, but there was another plan for him, one that no longer involved his family. He grew up on the Exotic Islands helping his mother raise his younger brother and, then, when the time came, his little sister. Zoya was his pride and his happiness, the thing that made him want to get up in the mornings, the one person he could count on to cheer him up when he was sad. However, she would not be with him long.

Little Zoya would catch the eye of their tribe’s Oracle when she was but five years old, barely old enough to begin her letters, and his parents, so overjoyed that their little girl was special, allowed her to begin her training. They would come to regret that choice. It was not long before the Ajanlekoko family stopped receiving word about young Zoya’s progress, something that had not occurred before then. Adebayo’s father grew worried, fearing that something tragic had happened to his little girl, his only girl. He was right.

They would never tell Ade or his family what had gone wrong when she’d been sent to study with the Saejish people but the grief and anger that consumed the young boy knew no better. It did not care whatever the cause, he did not need to know, but this is where the underlying tensions and mistrust began to fester and grow. By the time Adebayo and his family left the Islands - when he was merely twelve years of age - Ade no longer believed in the sanctity of his people’s covenants with the Balance. If the Balance could allow them to kill his baby sister, what else would it be capable of?

Settling into Varthal was not an uneasy task, for the Varthali were open and accepting of the little boy with dark skin and heavy features. Rather, It would be their culture and the shock that came with it that proved to be Adebayo’s most difficult adjustment. He did what he knew for that first year, working hard and learning the trade alongside his father, but it was not until the eve of his thirteenth year that he would understand the truth to the power brewing beneath his skin.

The activity that swarmed in the town square in the small southern Varthali village where he lived the day the High Mother and Father arrived is something that Adebayo would marvel at for the next fifteen odd years. When his mother inquired about the fanfare and excitement, she was told that the Holy Light had come to choose its disciples. Adebayo felt dread enter into his stomach then for he knew the thing that had been growing inside of him was no ordinary thing, but it was this, this holy power. And he did not want it. He had no need for it. Ade had become disillusioned by the actions of his past and the sorrow memories of his sister brought to his mind. Yet, the Light could no so easily be hidden. It found him in the market and when High Mother Carlenná smiled down at him in the town square, Adebayo knew he had no choice but to go.

Highwing was as different from Varthal as the Islands were from the ice and snow of Norvik. The activity and buzz of the capital of Morellin was a shock from the quiet existence he had lived for the majority of his life. Adebayo knew that, despite his growing interest in his studies, the interesting people, the kindness of his teachers, he could not let go of the past unless he was forced to. He requested an audience with the High Mother and Father and explained, as he stood there with his head bowed and arms folded in the dull grey habit he was forced to wear, that he wished to be stripped of his family name, for it reminded him too much of the pains and anguish of his past. The Mother smiled upon him and surnamed him Adisa, the lucid one. He would never know if that smile foretold the way his life would be shaped from that moment on.

Adebayo, freed from the shackles of his past, pledged himself gratefully to his studies. Soon he rose through the ranks, his eagerness, power, and growing skill marking him as potentially one of the most skilled among the new disciples. However, his fascination did not lie solely in the healing properties of the Light but drew him into the allure of the Shadow element. His teachers cautioned him to learn it and use it sparingly but Adebayo continued his studies, despite their words, for there was something there that pushed him forward, a propulsion that soon became an obsession for understanding what a Priest could do with the information he learned as the Shadow’s student.

It was not long into the rigor of his studies that his secretive actions began to take a toll. Adebayo began to hear the voices, whispers that snaked along the streets of Highwing and permeated the very walls of the Citadel. They spoke to him of many things, great things, and, even, promised him the ability to finally understand the circumstances behind little Zoya’s death. He worked harder then than ever, ignoring the concerned looks and well-meant warnings. If he could bring back his Zoya, if he could learn the truth, the thing that haunted his waking dreams and was the fodder for his nightmares, Adebayo would continue his work until it drove him mad.

Reason for joining the Wardens:

Adebayo became paranoid in his actions, concerned that his experiments with Shadow would be discovered by the Citadel and he would be forced to give up the sole thing driving him or, even worse, be stripped of his station as Priest of the Holy Light and cast into exile, a pawn under the thumb of those who wished to stifle his power. When word reached him that a new faction, one dedicated to understanding the Netherworld and its powers, had been created by none other than Vanáriel Vaewren herself, the great Priestess and Hand of the Light, Adebayo knew that would be his salvation. Stealing away in the dead of night, Ade tracked the Hand to her camp in Miwor Town, claiming a loyalty to her that he only felt in the vaguest sense of the word. If she offered him the opportunity to continue his work, possibly even further his power with the addition of the information discovered about the Netherworld, then he would be more than happy to pretend. He was, after all, a dedicated student.

R O L E P L A Y - S A M P L E

There have always been tales and songs of the walking dead. As your character huddles around a limp and fading campfire, they glimpse ghostly shapes through the forest’s trees. What do they do as the undead approach?

His mother had always warned him against playing with dead things. The fish that washed up on the shore, the birds, fallen from their nests, all of them were taken from this world by the Balance for a reason, she used to say. As a boy Adebayo had taken this to heart but, now, now he merely laughed at the superstitions of an old Island woman. He had loved her, in many ways he still continued to in his heart of hearts, but he had forsaken his past when he had changed his name, taken on the true mantle he had been born to carry. Death was no longer something he feared. He harnessed it, learned from it.

It made him a stronger man. It brought him that one step closer to Zoya, precious Zoya.

Ade had glimpsed the shadows as evening fell, the light of his fire keeping them at bay as he went about his business. They were merely curious, he knew, of the man who walked so calmly in a land held in the claws of death. He could hear them, the whispers that fed the Shadow louder in their presence, slithering in and out of his mind’s eye as smoothly as rushing water.. He had know they would be coming. He was not afraid. Adebayo set up camp as he normally would, calmed his horse when she spooked at the sounds coming from the treeline, and bedded down for the night, all the while keeping the whisperings at the back of his mind. In these recent months, Ade had grown accustomed to their chatter, their hissing, but the closer they became to him and his quickly dwindling fire the harder they became to ignore. They may only be curious of him but, he knew, the undead were fickle. Their whims could change as easily as the direction of the wind before the first signs of a storm.

His dagger was clutched in his left hand, curled beneath his blankets. He was not an agile man, his body too broad, but he was strong and his arms held power enough to keep them at bay if need be. But, Ade did not want to harm them. The Shadow whispered to him, beseeched him not to, not unless it needed them. So, he would not, not until the moment they became useful to him.

“I hear you, my friends,” he whispered into the night. The ghastly shadows moved closer, only a shambles pace away from the edge of his fire now. “I understand your pain, your curiosity. I will not hurt you. I merely wish to understand you.” The gurgling, hissing mumbles and groans grew louder and he smiled into the darkness, teeth flashing from the sliver of moon peeking from beneath the blanket of clouds that crossed the sky.

“I understand you. I wish to help you. Come closer, do not be afraid. The Shadow calls to you, it can help you. It can save you, too, my friends. Oh, it is more glorious than anything you will ever know. All you must do is reach out, and I will meet you.”

The dagger flashed in the light. The whispers grew quite. The Shadow was sated and Ade was content, body humming with power as his mind drifted off into a fitful sleep filled with his demons..

#accepted #admin post #thesorcerer

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