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Laguna Nera

Last Login:
March 23rd, 2019

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Gender: Other

Age: 27
Country: United States

Signup Date:
December 02, 2018


12/02/2018 01:51 PM 


• Not everyone will be accepted, Please do not take it personally.
• You MUST be able to write a minimum of two literate paragraphs to join. 
• We are looking for ORIGINAL characters, Only SOME exceptions can be negotiated.
• This story is based in a modern realistic setting, Characters applying should align well to this setting.
• This story will possess sensitive/triggering topics from time to time, Please be sure you can handle it.
• It is HIGHLY UNLIKELY that pre-existing canon characters  or mcrps will be accepted.
• It is HIGHLY UNLIKELY that heavily supernatural/magically influenced characters will be accepted.
• NO ONE is immortal or immune, The fear of injury/illness/death will indeed play a part here.
• We do have a discord server for discussion, casual roleplaying, and chatting that is available to accepted applicants.

Full Name:
Date of Birth (Age):

Positive Traits:
Negative Traits:
Quirky Traits:
Mental Disorders:
Common Habits:


Is your character aligned to the supernatural?: (If not ignore the rest of this section or simply write n/a.)
Does your character possess supernatural abilities?
Would you be willing to negotiate should they be deemed overpowered for this setting?
Please explain your character's abilities:
Please explain the drawbacks to your character's abilities:

If hired by Laguna Nera what positions would you be interested in? 
If accepted into the Marino Famiglia what type of roles would interest you? 

Please provide a modest summary of your character's history.

Please provide a sample of your writing that is MINIMUM two paragraphs. If you require a prompt one will be provided.

PROMPT: You have arrived at the Laguna Nera on a friday night, by far their busiest day of the week, and the place is packed as per usual. Scanning the room you find all the patrons and the staff scurrying about their tasks until one particular sight catches your attention.


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MY NAME'S KLAUS HARGREEVES. Some siblings still call me Number Four, though. Unfortunately, I was born October 1st, 1989. Makes me a Libra, if you care, NEXT. I have a penis, and I swing every way, all ways, but I like strong men mostly. Sometimes mannequins, why not.

Positive traits: I know how to party, protective, carefree. 
Negative traits: I scream a lot (but if you're into that heyyy)... 
Quirky traits: Hold my beer, I've got a lot.

Mental disorders: Ugh, do we really have... Okay. I'm depressed, I get anxious, and I wouldn't say I'm addicted, cause drugs are my medicine. I have a lot of nightmares.

Habits: Smoking.

Strengths/weaknesses: I'm bad at everything.

Hobbies: Drugs. A lot of raving, passing out on the street, etc. Oh, I do quite fancy knitting. 

I can see dead people. It's nothing to be proud of.
Again, I'm pretty fucking useless, I'm not out to kill anybody.

Drawbacks of seeing dead people, oh I don't know, traumatizing as fuck?

I'd like to be a freeloader, I'm just looking to buy more drugs, honestly, hire me, pretty please.

I'm high right now so I can't write something to perfection, but I promise I can write. BETCHA.


Posted on Thu Mar 14, 2019, 23:08

🐟 Renegade



Full Name: Tobirama

Nicknames: Rama

Date of Birth (Age): Unknown- 27 years old.

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Heterosexual


Positive Traits: Loyal, honest, adventurous, trustworthy, confident, resourceful

Negative Traits: Short tempered, impatient, abrasive, cocksure, self-destructive, vengeful, irrational

Quirky Traits: Can never sit still, always has to be working on something, or multiple projects, at once.

Mental Disorders: Intermittent Explosive Disorder

Common Habits: He likes to take things apart, guns, cars, etc.


Strengths: Hunting and eliminating, ruthlessly loyal to his family (whoever that may be)

Weaknesses: Can be a bit of an alcoholic, chronically ill, often blurs the line between moral and unethical decisions, children (has a weird soft spot for em), distrusting, lack of self control.

Fears: Loss/being alone/dying alone, despite mostly operating alone.

Talents: Hand-to-hand combat, guns, interrogations, tracking, mechanics.

Hobbies: Taking things apart and putting them back together, mechanic work.


Is your character aligned to the supernatural?

Yes. His biological mother passed on the ability to raise the dead to him. This unorthodox “necromantic” ability means that he can interrogate the dead for information, against their will. It’s also the cause for his slowly deteriorating health, due to his fathers human origins and his mothers unknown background. He doesn’t often speak of these abilities, but he isn’t afraid to break the laws of nature and use them. Even if it pains him.

Does your character possess supernatural abilities?

Yup. Necromancy. It also allows him to feel and sometimes interact with the dead. Although he’s not really “trained” in it persay, so what he knows, he learns along the self-taught route.

Please explain your character's abilities:

Mostly whats said above. Most of its accidental, communication when asleep, seeing figures during the day, or sensing the dead. Sometimes he can feel their emotions, pain, loss, anger and regret, especially when he’s intentionally raising a corpse from the dead. He has no choice but to link with them, and feel the pain they feel. Because of this he’s numb to a lot of things, and often overlooks moral implications.

Please explain the drawbacks to your character's abilities:

He can only revive one soul at a time, any more and he risks the chance of losing control over them, and they could react on their own free will. Each time, it cuts his life span a little bit shorter. The process can require time, which is why he almost only uses it for interrogations, and hides the ability from most.

Sometimes he has to deal with the dead involuntarily, such as see them, feel them, etc.


I tend to change this character depending on the verse I fit him into. While the basics remain mostly the same, most of his character will come out through rp.

Although, one quick way to trigger his temper is unnecessary calamity. Yelling, arguing, loud noises- he hates them. He will snap.

He’s mostly an alcoholic because of necromancy, feeling the dead takes its toll, and thats his coping mechanism. He doesn’t know how to talk about it, so he doesn’t.

He had a daughter once, she’s dead. He will almost never talk about that either, but it relates to his soft spot towards young children.

He will help people that deserve it, even random people on the street. But if you cross him, even in the smallest of ways, he will not show any mercy.

He has an occupational background in bounty hunting and gun-for-hire work


Context: This scene takes place in my storyline with Tula Masuame, an amazing writer you can find on my connections page. The White Isle, the Masuame, and Daviel, are all of her own creative mind. This particular scene, which blinds Tobirama, takes place at the end of our storyline together. This is fantasy verse placed.

The White Isle;

Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.
And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

"Kako se usuđuje ... ostani dalje!"

Frostbitten fingertips trailed the warped hilt of his sword, skimming over taut leather and frozen steel. That voice hadn't belonged to the lithe, feminine frame that stood just a few yards ahead. With hair even lighter than his own, and fair skin to match. She had stopped walking, and so had he, in order to maintain their distance. The air was suddenly thick with the static of power, of dark chakra laced in the breeze.

"Tula?" He spoke her name cautiously, grip curling around the sword fully, sliding it an inch upwards from its protective sheath. His feet drudged closer to the Masuame woman, crimson hues narrowing when she failed to respond.

It wasn't a good sign. It was never a good sign; Daviel was pestering her.

Daviel, the very demon they were on this trek to seal away, at the same shrine that was bound to save Tobirama from himself, as well. Bandages still crisscrossed his abdomen and arms from his fight over Konohagakure, and needless to say, without Hashirama alive to heal him and his sh*tty immune system refusing the natural route... This so called 'fountain of youth' was his last chance. Just as it was Tula's. This trip meant a second chance- a shot at a new life- for the both of them.

"Ostanite daleko..." The girl breathed a shuddering breath, white, crystalline smoke escaped her lips. Tobirama didn't understand the Yukinian tongue, but by tone alone he understood something wasn't right.

"Tula." He was close enough to where he could grip her shoulder, and turn the blood style user to face him, somewhat. Enough. The look in her eyes was not the look of the same girl he had met so many years before, when they were just children. Back then she was angry, defiant, sarcastically charming. Now? He looked at her... Into those familiar, mismatched hues of red and gold, and he saw absolutely nothing.

"Tula! Shut him out, we're almost there, he was bound to get restless!" Tobirama felt her shiver from where his hand gripped her shoulder. In any other circumstance, he was sure she would have shrugged him off or snarled at him to back off- because that was just how she was.

She gave him no such response- not even to call him 'Supac.' Her own little term of endearment.

"Ostanite daleko..." No, instead, she just kept speaking in that Yukinian dialect he could have never of hoped to understand, with a voice that wasn't entirely her own. His hand left the sword to grab her by her other shoulder, to shake her awake, if anything at all.

That was the biggest mistake of his life.

"OSTANITE DALEKO!" It took less than an instant for the blood to rise over her skin- either she had cut herself and he hadn't noticed- or she drew it directly from her pores, using that unsettling ability the occupants of the White Isle were known for. He cursed and tore his arm away, an unknown, unrelenting power forcing him to stumble backwards, simply through the sheer force of its energy turning physical. "Upozorio sam te!!" It wasn't Tula who spoke down to him, the voice was deeper and malefic.

The attack had struck his face, he knew that, but the cold made it hard to feel and comprehend. The blizzard around them, the timing of the attack, and the fact that he couldn't defend himself, or attack her- it was very numbing, to say the least.

Tobirama could hear the crackle of blood as it hardened into whatever shape she so desired. Then she screamed, and tumbled into the snow, holding her head by her temples, cursing out the divine.

What he hadn't realized, was that he was in a similar position, because suddenly, his heart had leapt into his throat, his chest became tight, and his gut queasy.

Fear, perhaps.

There was something wrong, horribly wrong, because he couldn't SEE. In fact, his eyes, the whole upper portion of his face felt burned, almost as if she had taken the end of a hot iron brand and struck him with it. He couldn't open his eyes, he wasn't even entirely sure if they were still there to begin with. "T-tula! Damnit... TULA!"  

Warmth flooded through his navy yukata, even managing to dampen the thick fur cloak he wore to keep out the unforgiving cold. His very life, quite literally, pouring onto it in a sick, slow dribble. Similarly, that same coagulated substance coated his cheeks, scarlet tears given the consistency of honey in the cold. Marring the signature facial tattoos he allowed the Senju clan to brand him with.

"F***ing.... Hell, Tula. Get. UP!"

They weren't going to make it. But they had been so close...

"Tula..." A growl edged his voice, and using the sensory skills he had honed since his oldest memory, he crawled towards her, grappling vainly at the snow in a blind panic, until he grasped onto something tangible; white tresses. His fist clenched, and the burning pain that shrouded his eyes became a dull ache. The arm that hadn't reached out for her hung over his torso, as if the miniscule amount of pressure would somehow stop the bleeding. Blindly, his digits navigated to her face, using her hair as a map. "...wake up... Tula!" His knuckles found her cheek, but it was impossibly cold. Silence greeted him, more deafening than the wind that laughed at their plight. Some point after that, he collapsed beside her. Pain ceased, awareness ceased, one by one, his senses were snuffed out. Numbed by snow, or numbed by the sinking, gentle folly of losing consciousness, he would never know.

To be continued...

Posted on Thu Mar 14, 2019, 20:07

The Horde


Full Name: Charlie Lyn Hatter
Nicknames: Charlie?  
Date of Birth (Age): October 14th/ 23
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Evil

Positive Traits: Free-spirited, fearless, energetic
Negative Traits: overconfident, if not a bit narcissistic.
Quirky Traits: Clumsy to a fault 
Mental Disorders: none
Common Habits: If left on her own she will write on the walls with chalk.

Strengths:  She's incredibly resourceful and quick-witted.
Weaknesses: Lack of many proper defensive measures and also a tad obsessive.
Fears: Swimming
Talents: She has an angelic singing voice, and is a genius in engineering. 
Hobbies: blogging, shopping, and nail painting

Is your character aligned to the supernatural?: Yes
Would you be willing to negotiate should they be deemed overpowered for this setting? Yes
Please explain your character's abilities: Charlie is, for all intents and purposes, a rune witch, or as most would name it a necromancer. Though her subjects are her hordes of dolls as opposed to raised corpses. 

 Her spells are mostly utility in nature, as her animated minions provide the muscle while she hinders and restricts her opponents. She carries around a large tome in her bag to aid her in casting more complicated incantation. Her spell dominions include paralysis, corruption, blood magic, enfeeblement, confusion, poison…etc. 
Please explain the drawbacks to your character's abilities: Less than durable minions. Since her spells are depilatory in nature, they lack the kind of viscerally magical punch a traditional witch wields and has a limit on how many can be active at one time.

If hired by Laguna Nera what positions would you be interested in?

 Entertainer? She used to sing at a dive bar, so she has some expertise in that prospect.

If accepted into the Marino Famiglia what type of roles would interest, you? 

She has equal footing in both engineering and car mechanics.

Please provide a modest summary of your character's history.

Charlie has spent the majority of her young life in the suburban town of Chicago, after her parents moved to the states from Bonn, Germany when she was a toddler. A privileged only child, she received the best schooling, summer tutoring, and extracurricular education, the benefits of coming from a successful line of doctors, the handed-down profession of her father and his father before him.

Charlie has been groomed to carry on this line of work, but soon after learning the extent of its ins-and-outs (lame surgical pun), grew bored with the notion. At least until she discovered the frontier that lay beyond the mere act of saving lives. And that would be bringing them back long after they were believed to be deceased.

Charles’s studies were conducted in her parents' seldom-used basement (even more seldom once Charlie put a complex series of locks on the door), the walls lined with occult books, scrawled magical equations spliced into scientific theorems, and the odd band poster or drawing.

And sure enough, after a few years, she very nearly perfected the art, only in a somewhat unorthodox manner. Returning the souls of the dead to their human bodies was a bit beyond her reach, as hauling a corpse in the front door would most likely raise a brow or two. (Not from her parents. Charlie knows for a fact they don't so much glance at her unless it's to check on how her grades are coming.

So, without human hosts to work with, she looked instead to her ample supply of toys. When she was about four or five, her parents discovered Charles’s acute love of dolls, and never bothered to seek out a more age-appropriate gift as the years went by.


“I wish you to know that you have been the last dream of my soul… Since I knew you, I have been troubled by a remorse that I thought would never reproach me again, and have heard whispers from old voices impelling me upward, that I thought were silent forever. I have had unformed ideas of starving afresh, beginning anew, shaking off sloth and sensuality, and fighting out the abandoned fight. A dream, all a dream, that ends in nothing….”

                The Outcast

The fog was thick, muffling sound and sight. Where it parted Charlie could see the street rising ahead of her, slick and wet and black with rain, and she could hear the voices of the death.

                Not all Rune Witches could hear ghost, unless the ghost chose to be heard, but Charlie was few in number that used the dead and had an innate talent for them. As she approached the old cemetery, their voices rose in a ragged chorus, wails and pleading, cries and snarls. This was not a peaceful burial ground, but Charlie knew that; it was not her first visit. She did her best to block out the noises, hunching her shoulders so that the collar of her coat covered the end of her ears, head down, a fine mist of rain dampening her plump pink hair into a frizz.

The entrance to the cemetery was halfway down the block: a pair of wrought iron gates set into a high stone wall, though any mundane passing by would have observed nothing but a plot of overgrown land, part of an unnamed builder’s yard.

As Charlie neared the gates a mist rose like steam from the ground, obscuring the gleam of the rough ground below her feet. Charlie put her hands out to the bars of the gate; the cold of the metal seeped through her gloves, into her bones, and she shivered. The hair on the back of her neck prickled and stood up as the mist formed slowly into the shape of an old woman in a ragged dress and white apron, her head bent.

“Hello Molly,” Said Charlie. “You’re looking well this evening.”

                The spirit raised her head. Molly was a particularly strong spirit, one of the stronger Charlie had ever encountered. Even as moonlight speared through a gap in the cloud, she hardly looked transparent. Her body was solid, her hair twisted into a thick yellow-gray coil over one shoulder, her rough, red hands braced on her hips. Only her eyes were hollow, twin blue flames flickering in their depths.

                “Back again so soon?” She said.

She moved towards the gate with that gliding motion peculiar to ghosts. Her feet were bare and filth, despite the fact that they never touched the ground.

“You know I missed your beautiful smile.”             Charlie smiled, leaning up against the gate.

                Molly grinned, her eyes flickering, and Charlie caught a glimpse of the skull beneath the half-transparent skin. Overhead the clouds had closed in on one another, blocking out the moon, idly, Charlie wondered what old Molly had done to get herself buried here, far from consecrated ground. Most of the wailing voices of the dead belonged to prostitutes, suicides, and stillbirths those outcast dead who could not be buried in the churchyard. Although Molly had managed to make the situation quite profitable for herself, so perhaps she didn’t mind.  -My fingers are tired so I’ll just stop here.- xD

Posted on Mon Mar 11, 2019, 15:11

Nightingale: Queen of Weaponsmiths


Full Name: Nightingale Angel (Leila if you know her on a personal level)
Nicknames: Night, Ice Queen, Queen of the Weaponsmiths, Weapons Queen, Weaponsmith Queen
Date of Birth (Age): December 3rd, 25
Gender: Female

Sexuality: Bisexual

Positive Traits: Strong, Loyal, Independent, Able to make anything into a weapon, Friendly... I can go on.
Negative Traits: Egocentric, Emotional, LOTS of Anger Issues
Quirky Traits: *thinks of any* Nothing really come to mind...
Mental Disorders: Multiple Personality Disorder, OCD, Schizophrenia
Common Habits: Touches left ear while thinking, eats lots of sweets when stressed and trying to calm suicidal thoughts and voices.

Strengths: Hand to Hand Combat, Weapons and Armor Building, Excellent Chef, Genius with Computers, Stealth
Weaknesses: Can be naive on certain subjects
Fears: Death and heights
Talents: Can craft anything into a weapon, excellent at all forms of cuisine and baking.
Hobbies: Playing video games, listening to music, writing, cooking, building, dancing... This list is going to get terribly long... I have a lot of hobbies.

Is your character aligned to the supernatural?: Yes
Does your character possess supernatural abilities? Yes
Would you be willing to negotiate should they be deemed overpowered for this setting? If necessary.
Please explain your character's abilities: 
~Elemental Manipulation

~Stand Usage: Silver Galaxy
~Mind Control/Reading
~Soul Energy/Manipulation
~Ki Energy/Strong Martial Art Styles
~Superhuman Speed, Strength and Agility
~Strong Mental Capacity 
~Knowledge of All types of Weaponry
~Devil Trigger
~Vampiric Abilities/Immortality
~Strong Healing Powers

Please explain the drawbacks to your character's abilities: Her stand Silver Galaxy is not good with long distance opponents; it is only meant for close quarters and stealth based missions. She is immortal, unless you have some anti-immortality weapon there is no changing that. She can use her Reincarnation technique only 3 times, then she has to meditate under a full moon to get her full power back. 

If hired by Laguna Nera what positions would you be interested in? Lead Weaponsmith and Armorment builder
If accepted into the Marino Famiglia what type of roles would interest you? Underboss 

Nightingale was passionate about two things in her life, cooking and weapons. She did her best to learn everything that she could about both and master it all. She can be secretive when necessary that's why she doesn't share her real name until she has gotten to know you and can feel deep down that you are trustworthy. Nightingale keeps everyone that she trusts close to her and treats them all like family... But the minute you cross her... You are in for a rude awakening.

WRITING SAMPLE Nightingale looked on calmly at her phone after finishing her delivery of what she felt like was the finest weapon ever created. "Ah another great day for building and making money. That is my last one of the day. I should go visit my friend and deliver him dinner." The young woman said calmly to no one in particular before walking over to the hot box and pulling out an entire bag of food that she made before she left on delivery. The curvy young woman got into her car that her lover bought for her and drove to Laguna Nera to deliver the meal.

She smiled over at her friend and handed over the food to him watching him drive off. "Enjoy it! I'll see you tomorrow!" Nightingale then walked into the establishment to enjoy herself for the night. "Time for a good drink." Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed something rather odd. It looked like one of her weapons that she sold to a client. Nightingale walked over waiting for her drink then exclaimed to everyone within the vicinity of her. "Hey who's in charge here? Why is one of my handcrafted weapons just being used as a set piece?!"

Posted on Wed Mar 06, 2019, 16:59

🍋 キモラ✦𝙠𝙞𝙢



Full Name: Kimora Ahn Lei

Nicknames: Kimmie, Kim, 01

Date of Birth (Age): December 21

Gender: Agender| NonBinary.

Sexuality: Panromantic/Demisexual


Positive Traits: Charismatic, Cunning, Spontaneous

Negative Traits: Thrill Seeker, Impulsive, Rude

Quirky Traits: She works on vehicles,  illegal mechanic prosthesis, and weaponry in a deep basement area.

Mental Disorders: PTSD.

Common Habits: N/A (?)


Strengths: Kywrk Desiigner Woman (Baby) Experiment 01/Usage Nanobots: Human/AI intelligence. The ideal elite human woman with the ability to augment and change: body, dna, sex, and anything additional that can be added via A.I. and surgery. (Reference: Matrix, Ghost In the Shell, Gargantia on the Venderous Planet, )

Weaknesses: Magnets, Temptation/Peer Pressure, and Mental Triggers.

Fears: Doctors, White Coats, Scientists, and Restraints.

Talents: Cooking and Driving Skills are A1 BRO

Hobbies: Smoking, Racing, Drawing


Is your character aligned to the supernatural?:

- Yes kinda.

Does your character possess supernatural abilities?

- Accelerated Perception (Limited)

- Enhanced Condition (Limited)

Would you be willing to negotiate should they be deemed overpowered for this setting?

- Of course.

Please explain your character's abilities:

- Accelerated Perception via A.I. help/enhancement (more here)

-  “Physical and mental abilities are above the peak human levels of other beings in her universe. This entails that they are faster, stronger, more intelligent and overall superior to beings at peak human level (in that verse), but not to supernatural levels.” (more here)

Please explain the drawbacks to your character's abilities:

- In combat, may not react as quickly as the perception.

  -Time perception doesn't count.

- Not immune to harm even though human abilities are enhanced.


If hired by Laguna Nera what positions would you be interested in?

If accepted into the Marino Famiglia what type of roles would interest you?

  • I am open to any positions available.


Please provide a modest summary of your character's history.

Kimora is a african american and japanese living in the city of Tokyo, Japan. At 18 years old, she loved getting into trouble and illegal racing. She lived with her sick mother and her father disappeared years ago in an intergalactic war. During a night raid, she was detained and waited in holding. Expecting her mother to arrive, authorities showed up snatching women from their cells and taking them to another secret location...

(I prefer character background and story to be learned via storyline. For further info, please ask.)


Please provide a sample of your writing that is MINIMUM two paragraphs.

Don't come close,

                                don't come close

You don't even know me,

                                                   you think you know me...

Submerged in a body of water, consumed in my own confusion, an act of love or sin?

Who knows? Possibly both? Am I in the right for letting go? Have I opened another gate of evil? Have I experienced her? I have to contain it, I have to control it.

Trapped in a tetris of thoughts, her insecurities clouded her mind as she slowly became unsure of herself and constantly searched for an answer. An answer from her gods who remain speechless and then to herself, hazing for answers...That provided a response? A schizophrenic disaster in the making, crazed or real? Only she knows. Only God knows.






A voice, disembodied, responded. She remained silent and gripped tightly to the sides of the bathtub as black mist flickered and flustered into the air, drowning out the bathroom like smoke from a cigarette or steam spout from an industrial plant. The gaseous fumes withdrew from her hair and skin like pheromones of despair, a heavy grimace that can be felt and seen. A pollution that attracted malevolence, and  she sat in it, hoping for another response. She’d always regard the little responses as her conscious and maybe even a God, but this time the voice was different from her own. Desperately waiting, she finally received what she had been waiting for, Close your eyes. Sink! And so she did on her own accord.

The heavy weight of the hand pressed deeply into her chest and submerged her into the water. Her eyes tightened, she held her breath as air bubbles trickled and escaped from her lips. She quickly sunk deeper and deeper into the water until the bathtub became the sea. A hand extended towards the surface of the water wanting to go back, she was quickly losing air. ‘ I’ll drown at any second! What is happening?! What is happening?! ’ Breathe. ‘B-’ BREATHE. GASP!

I blindly did as I was told, I trusted the voice. Why did I trust the voice?

I don’t know why, but suddenly, I was consumed by a light so bright and welcoming in a space of nothingness. There she was before me.

You called to me with questions?

Suddenly, she appeared in a space of nothingness? A room? A realm? Who knew, but she sat comfortable in a tub of assorted flowers. She was overcome with unconditional love and light. “Where- Where am I?! Am I dead? ” She was powerless in the weird and empty space, unable to tap into her divine powers. She scanned the room, relatively on edge. “ Show yourself! ”

You called to me with questions.

Posted on Sun Feb 24, 2019, 00:33

🐟 Vara Katsaros


Full Name: Vara Katsaros
Nicknames: None
Date of Birth (Age): 27
Gender: Female
Sexuality: Bisexual, leans towards men

Positive Traits: Loyal (when earned), positive, creative, honest (maybe to the point of being rude sometimes)
Negative Traits: Quick to anger, closed off, not very trusting, prefers to work alone, can be very arrogant (at least on the surface)
Quirky Traits: Not sure if quirky is the right words, but she’s sarcastic 90% of the time
Mental Disorders: None
Common Habits: She’s a drinker (but not to the point she’s drunk on the job)

Strengths: Trained in most fighting styles and with most weapons
Weaknesses: She’s selfish and doesn’t always work well with others
Fears: Nothing out of the ordinary other than the fear of losing herself to her abilities (see below)
Talents: Fighting, speaks multiple languages, can play a few musical instruments
Hobbies: She loves to travel and likes to dance

Is your character aligned to the supernatural?: Yes
Does your character possess supernatural abilities? Yes, she’s a shifter.
Would you be willing to negotiate should they be deemed overpowered for this setting? Absolutely.
Please explain your character's abilities: She can shift into any animal/person she likes as long as she has the proper knowledge of their anatomy and appearance. This includes fictional animals, but those take a lot of time.
Please explain the drawbacks to your character's abilities: She can get trapped in an animal’s form mentally if she spends too much time in it. For example, if she goes into battle in the shape of a tiger and gets trapped in that blood lost, she runs the risk of getting trapped into the mindset of a tiger and forgetting who she is.

If hired by Laguna Nera what positions would you be interested in? 
Vara is a trained assassin, so she’d definitely be well suited for any job that requires having a dark side and little empathy.

If accepted into the Marino Famiglia what type of roles would interest you? 
As a writer, I’m very easy going. I like a challenge, so anything out of my comfort zone would be fun.

I will likely need to tweak her history if I’m accepted, but the base story is that Vara’s family is murdered and, because of her abilities, she’s sold as a child and enslaved to a crime syndicate. They raised her to be a killer, and she spent her entire young adult life buying her freedom from that group. She keeps her abilities secret except from the few people she trusts.

There’s a lot more that happens to her, but I don’t wanna ruin everything I’d reveal through RP right away! So if you need more information, just let me know.

Pulled this from her SciFi version:

Nestled in the outer reaches of the galaxy, the Athega star system was a relatively unknown cluster of large gaseous planets. Deemed uninhabitable, the star system had been abandoned to its own devices for centuries. Left undiscovered, the third moon of Amasis, named Khoeli by its inhabitants, was left free of the Federations interventions. It’s people, the Fetoha, were free to exist in peace.

The Fetoha were an unusual bunch. Shapeshifters, they could adjust their body as needed. Though the bulk of Fetohans maintained the same basic physical appearance, they could change details based on their needs. Cat like eyes to see in the night, shorter hair for battle, longer arms to do something as simple as reach something up high. Sometimes, a Fetoha would be born who could shift into an entirely different shape. But rarely was the Fetoha born who could shift into anything. 1 in 1,000,000 of Fetoha born had this ability, and they often came out of the womb so misshapen from shifting while still growing that they had to be put down immediately upon birth.

It was considered a curse and a blessing.

Vara was one of those few. Born to an ordinary family, she was miraculously born in an entirely ordinary body. But upon her 6th month, it became clear to her parents that was one of the chosen. With each hiccup, her appearance changed drastically, even shifting to become an animal until the next hiccup came and returned to a humanoid shape. She took on the form of things her parents had never seen.

She was gifted, and thus in terrible danger.

Fetohans who could shift so freely were considered pure among the elders. They were desired even among their own people. Perhaps Vara was lucky that she grew up in a small farming village. As a child, she had no control over her abilities, and her appearance would change constantly save for one detail: her eyes were always the colour of the planets southern seas. Vibrant, sun-kissed turquoise that always let her family know that, despite the new face, it was their daughter who ran into the house.

It was a quiet, happy life. For a time.

Though the Fetoha has the capabilities of basic space travel, they were not a well developed race because of their isolation. When slavers came for them, they did not have the power to stop them. Thousands of their people died in the fight to protect their homeworld, but in the end the slavers could not be stopped. They invaded Khoeli and left it in ruins.

The families from Vara’s village packed all of the children into a small craft before the slavers came, the ship designed for short space runs to neighboring planets to harvest certain gases. The ship left the planet before the slavers reached their town, rocketing out into the cosmos in the hopes that someone would find them and save them.

Unfortunately for the children aboard the small craft, saviors never came. Instead, the craft was intercepted by a group of bounty hunters. They tore the ship apart for parts, and then sold the children off to varying groups. While most of the Fetoha were sold into basically slavery, Vara was held onto. Despite only being 6 years old, her abilities made her valuable. So instead of selling her to the closest brothel, they sold her to the crime syndicate known as Black Dawn at a price so high that Vara would be paying it off for most of her life.

The moment Vara arrived among her new family, she was branded. Using a special chemical in the fire that heated the brand, Vara would learn quickly that no matter what form she took that brand would remain. She would carry upon the inside of her wrist the image of a rising sun until she died. But despite the pain of that brand, the group took her in. She was given a home, a place that was safe, and a place to grow. She went to school during the day, and returned home in the afternoon for training. It was a life that was almost...normal.

Until at the age of 15 when she was handed her bill. The price of her purchase, school, and all living expenses for the last 9 years laid out for her to see.

And she would pay her owner back for every cent.



Posted on Sat Feb 23, 2019, 22:52

🐟 Allelujah




Full Name: Allelujah Planao

Nicknames: Alle

Date of Birth (Age): 8/1/(year changes with setting) - 25 years of age

Gender: Male

Sexuality: Bisexual, leans primarily towards women


Positive Traits: Energetic, Optimistic, Straightforward, Loyal, and Headstrong

Negative Traits: Egotistic, Possessive, Dominating, Arrogant, and Quick Tempered

Quirky Traits: He’s a walking lie detector, almost impossible to hide anything from this man

Mental Disorders: No mental disorders but he is blind. Lost his sight at the age of 10. Common Habits: Adrenaline junkie. Has a habit of finding trouble, and starting fights


Strengths: Being Oelian raised, Alle is martially trained and quite advanced in the area of combat. His discipline is apart of him the way ones voice is when singing. A perfect effortless harmony.

Weaknesses: Greedy and selfish, he puts himself first in almost every situation and aims to be the best at whatever he does.

Fears: Has an irrational fear of water

Talents: Swordsmanship, Martial Arts, and enhanced abilities enabling him to hear, smell, and sense/manipulate energies that would typically go undetected Hobbies: Training, Meditation, and Space Travel


Is your character aligned to the supernatural?

Yes. At 10 years of age, and at the peak of his suffering in sickness due to the Thaerium disease that scourged his home planet Oelia, the child made a deal to sell his soul to a being called Bride. For it, she granted him what he desired the most, his life and most importantly his sight. He is no longer sick with the Bloodbane Virus because of this.

Does your character possess supernatural abilities?

Yes. The deal mentioned above gifted him the ability to see without his eyes. He has enhanced senses that allow him to navigate through the darkness. Allelujah is also half Junath, and because of that he possesses the natural yet rare ability through this race to see energy. That being one of his natural senses, it was heightened with the deal, and is now his primary source of seeing as well as a device he uses in combat. Would you be willing to negotiate should they be deemed overpowered for this setting? Depending on what it is, sure. Something I’d like to put out here is my characters setting. He is based around a more sci fi setting, but personally I see it being hardly an issue because Earth is in the same galaxy that Oelia and Juna are in, which are the planets he’s native to. It works fine if Oelian’s are more advanced then those on Earth, since that is part of their lore in general. They are (or rather were) a very technologically advanced civilization.

Please explain your character's abilities:

Explained a bit above, I’l go into detail about how he manipulates energy through his main weapon which he’s named Solbreaker: Solbreaker looks to be a uselessly blunt, pitch dark blade, the length of your average Katana. It’s unique in that it was made in Oelia through the use of the now illegal (through Oelian law) production of Thaerium. The Solbreaker has a density harder than that of a diamond, and is made of carbon nano-tubing. Besides being used as a sufficient club, its useless as a sword to anyone other than Allelujah. The swordsman’s abilities allow him to draw point negative energy from the vacuum of space, and manipulate it to envelope his sword. The dark energy and the carbon nanotube causes a vibration, as the Solbreaker essentially acts as a lighting rod during the operation. The result is a plasma casing around the blunt blade, carrying the energy of the sun its capable of cutting through anything it goes up against. Additionally, the sword also becomes blinding to his enemies bare eyes which works out perfectly for Allelujah!

Please explain the drawbacks to your character's abilities:

His blade has a time limit because its draining on him physically to manipulate energy. So for example, when Solbreaker is in use I will give him a certain amount of posts before he no longer can wield the weapon. Other than that Allelujah is very susceptible to anything that proves to be mind/body altering such as drugs, alcohol, etc. He can also be easily overwhelmed by loud or powerful sounds and smells. His combat is limited mostly to close range, he doesn’t fair too well with guns or far away targets.


If hired by Laguna Nera what positions would you be interested in?

In Juna Allelujah works for a shell organization called C.A.R.P. short for Cataphract Armaments through Retrieval Processing. In short they mass produce illegal Oelian weaponry, the leader of the organization is Bride whom made the deal with him as a child. Allelujah is proficient in making connections but is not just a “yes man”. In certain circles, he's infamously known for his skill in eliminating his opposing targets. He’s very useful as a hitman and hired sword.

If accepted into the Marino Famiglia what type of roles would interest you?

Im open. Preferably something that utilizes his skills mentioned above.


Allelujah is both Oelian and Junath. The two races histories and traits impact his character greatly, more about them can be found on my profile. In summary When Oelian’s began to spill into Juna, they looked upon the natives as their own built in serfs. Before then, Oelian’s were already familiar with Juna’s people, and had a terrible reputation for suckering their women into an institutionalized form of sex slavery back on Oelia. Allelujah’s mother was a Junath prostitute on Oelia where he was born. His father (unknown to Alle) was a patron of her bordello. The sociology between Oelian's and Junath's changed as they found a unique use for the Junath blue haired dwellers. Less than half of Juna’s population possessed a naturally unique power; The ability to manipulate energy and life force within the living. Through that manipulation the faculty of miraculous healing could be achieved without medicines or intensive operations. This became incredibly important to the many sick Oelian’s now invading Juna after having had destroyed their planet Oelia to the Thaerium toxin. As Oelian’s worked to rebuild their society on Juna, they also began to pay Junath communities in large stipends for doing nothing more than what they have always done. The catch was they would eventually become dependent upon the rising fluctuation, and would soon have to take on a more active role towards the Oelian invaders. Those identified as healers would be spilt from the ordinary Junath's and worked as medics. One of the more important jobs was in aiding the symptoms of Ricanetaz (a treatment for the Thaerium toxin) through endless therapy sessions. Junath’s abilities combined with Ricanetaz became the closest thing to a cure that Oelian’s would ever hope to find.


Turning away from the table towards the flight deck, Alle parted with his friend who had also left to re-enter the cargo bay. Sitting down in a pilot’s seat, he cracked his knuckles and addressed Dove, the AI system.

“Alright. Dove, switch to manual controls.”

Upon command his chair protracted a system display station which built out and around his sides; to his left a series of controls, and to his right the cyclic to steer. After Dove was synched to Allelujah, the AI would know basic information on him as well, which prompted its next question.

Dove: “Which should I switch the visual interface to? Tactile or auditory?”

Allelujah felt over the controls to his left as he answered.

“Switch interface to both. Dove, describe the flight controls on the display, left to right.”

As the AI slowly listed each device and switch, Allelujah interrupted.

“Alright, be faster…and Faster…annnnd Faster!!”

Dove, after being corrected a few times over, eventually adapted to Alle's command and listed off at an almost incomprehensible speed the controls. Allelujah moved his fingers over them studiously, clicking at a few as he settled in, as well as turning on the most basic of AI systems from the control panel. As he gripped the joystick in his right hand, his fingers individually curled around the lever before squeezing firmly. His nostrils flared and he smirked crookedly as he excitedly anticipated flying a ship so close to a planet…for the first time. However, before he could descend, first he had to deal with the Solarian in tow.

“Dove, release the local hull plating that the Solarian’s tether is attached to."

The tether which was hooked to his friend's ship broke off with a plate of the vessel, doing some damage to the rear, but it was in such bad condition as was that it hardly made a difference. It was released with the chain upon order, and without hesitation a series of commands rolled off Allelujah’s tongue after their escape.

“Deploy descending canard.”

Dove: “Canard in position.”

“Deploy aft tri-wing.”

Dove: “Aft in position.”

“Extend forward wings.”

Dove: “Forward wings exte—“

“Dove, power off.”

As Dove went offline, leaving Allelujah with only a primary AI program as he flew, he jerked the stick, and banked instantly. He didn’t let up on the sudden maneuver, the cabin shook from the force as it continued.

AI: “Bank port 9 degrees upon extension.”

He grunted out boyishly at the annoyingly obvious commentary given to him by the simpler AI as he held the tilt. The program was no Dove.

AI: “Yaw at 15 degrees, decrease yaw to 0, and descend.”

Allelujah slowly leveled out to 0 degrees, and because of the sudden turn, they would successfully shake the Solarian ship from their tail. The Solarian’s ship would continue on a straight path, as theirs had suddenly veered off to the side. This created a large distance between them as they were sent miles away from one another in less than a few seconds. The ship couldn’t help but joggle in waves as the descent began, starting off traveling at incredibly high speeds.

“Computer, give me kilometers updates."

AI: “7,000 kilometers.”

“You hear me? Hey, we’re entering the Ionosphere.”

Allelujah spoke into his communicator and tried to listen in on his friend as he piloted the rough ride, ignoring the AI for awhile until they reached the stratosphere.

AI: “4,000 kilometers.”

Allelujah gritted his teeth as he turned to his display and activated a few controls. They began to level out, the best he could manage for now anyway. They were no longer in space, the clouds were below them now and the world was clear and no longer pitch.


He focused on the steering and the speed, managing a few things to his left as they lowered, the rocking becoming less violent as they decreased in height.

AI: “2,000 kilometers.”

He quickly jammed his middle and ring finger over a switch, and the ship maintained its speed at a stabilized decreased velocity.

“Right in the sweet spot!”

He smirked, pleased as they made it calmly and more importantly all in one piece into the troposphere. Now that they were in the cloud layer, all they needed was to find a clear place to land after breaking through it.

“So uh…I’m gunna need ya up here.”

He squinted as he continued through the clouds, connecting to his friend through his earpiece.

“Less ya got some coordinates for me, I can’t land us blind.”

Posted on Tue Jan 15, 2019, 20:31



Full Name:  Mawort Il Vuoto
Nicknames: Mars, Heredity
Date of Birth (Age):  March 20 (44)
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Demisexual (falls in love with chemistry)

Positive Traits: Faithful, Analytical.
Negative Traits: Bores easily, lacks a sensible level of humanity.
Quirky Traits: Target practice - he never ceases a chance to test a weapon.
Mental Disorders: Schizoaffective Disorder - having worked most of his years for the Italian army, he returned home with fits of mania and sometimes depression.
Common Habits: Disassembly of firearms, only to reassemble - his speed must not exceed a minute in time.

Strengths:  Hawk Eye, Covert operations specialist. 
Weaknesses:  Trigger happy.
Fears:  Losing his family, himself.
Talents:  Can hold his breath for up to fifteen minutes (trying to best the record of German freediver: Tom Sietas who can for nearly twenty-three minutes in total.)
Hobbies:  Learning about various metals and chemical reactions.


This section is tricky, but whether it is implied does not really affect him.  I'll provide the information anyway.

Is your character aligned to the supernatural? So and So. 
Does your character possess supernatural abilities?  He is a practitioner of alchemy, delving greatly into the science of chemicals.
Would you be willing to negotiate should they be deemed overpowered for this setting?  Of course.
Please explain your character's abilities:  Mars is capable of creating specialized firearms using contents of blood from either himself or his victims with the usages of alchemy.
Please explain the drawbacks to your character's abilities:  Limited supply if he uses other people.  If he uses himself, he can fall into risk of idopathic aplastic anemia.

If hired by Laguna Nera what positions would you be interested in? Mars would prefer to be a hitman; he doesn't favor being out in the open for exceeding amounts of time. 
If accepted into the Marino Famiglia what type of roles would interest you? If not needed from purposes of stealth, he would be honored to become the famiglia's weapons smith.  

At age eighteen, Mawort Il Vuoto, son of a known alchemist in the city of Venezia, was drafted into the Italian army to provide his services - much against his favor.  The minimal requirement was to at least serve a year on the force, so he promised his family that he'd return after making far.  Unfortunately, Mawort hadn't returned as planned.  His promise belated over twenty years before he returned home to discover he had a set of twin boys waiting to meet him.  They thought he'd put the life of the military behind him, but he brought home terrorizing phantoms in their place.  At the age of forty, Marwort Il Vuoto began organizing a group of operations, controlling the influence throughout Venezia using his own methods of extortion - his reasons yet to be explained.

"Papa," a voice called in the pitch of black.  There in the desolated room lofted a camouflage adorned individual in a full-grain leather recliner,  grazing a hand over the busted gas tube of a trashed AK-47 assault rifle.  "dinner is a requirement of your presence." He hadn't observed nor cared for the fact his eldest son beckoned him - entranced by the splendor of damage ensued onto his baby"Glass tubes are obsolete - not feasible under condition of shrapnel or recoil.  Nero bioxide steel will suffice its longevity." Mawort's murmurs deemed incoherent in times of peace, spurring the questions in his household's minds: what was he preparing for? 

Saturnus Il Vuoto, the eldest child - heir to the estate, knew since his father's return home - he'd not been normal; he hadn't gotten the chance to meet the normal father he was before this fracture settled back in their residence: the ducking around corners, diving over furniture and scoping the grounds before proceeding to his destination worried him.  Though it pained him in knowing the aftermath of war, he couldn't turn back the hands of time to allay what metal trauma.  All he could truly do was watch this neuro decline in humanity set place before his very eyes.  Before he could turn heel and leave the man at his peace, he felt it - a shudder, sudden chill traversing down his spine.  Vermilion eyes locked onto him hoisting the reformed blade in hand.

"Saturnus," thus the male spoke, handling the still arm.

"Papa." the son retorts, making no sudden movements.

"You shouldn't sneak up on people - one false move would have been your head."

Saturnus remained silent, taking embrace of those words, honing on the haunting crimson of his father's eyes - the lack of iambic coloring his tone.  Monochrome, devoid of emotion.  He was serious.  He really would have pulled the trigger, wouldn't he? The fright overtook his countenance, all the more to secretly inform mother of this waxing ailment. 

Mars was aware; as if a switch was flicked, a hearty laughter echoed the room in his approach, lowering the rifle and patting his son on the shoulder.  "Don't look so serious. As heir, the one thing you should learn to reject is the fear of death." Because he would soon learn well of it.

Walking past chiming nonchalant whistles, balancing his rifle over his shoulder.  Saturn frowned in his wake.  This man; perhaps he wasn't off-key.  In fact, his name personified it well:

MAWORT, derived from Latin's Mars, the personification of Greek God Ares - this man... he was a God of War.  

Posted on Wed Jan 02, 2019, 16:41




Full Name:Marcus Turner

Nicknames: Azure Wolf

Date of Birth (Age): September 22. Current age Thirty two


Sexuality: Heterosexual


Positive Traits: Usually the type to lighten a tense mood if needed. Friendly in the right situations

Negative Traits: Over thinks most things. Easy to shut himself off and drink to deal with his problems.

Quirky Traits: Has a habit of shadow boxing when bored. Usually handles most situations in terms of a fight.

Mental Disorders: Post Trumatic Stress Disorder. Mild depression.

Common Habits: Can been seen staring off into space if he thinks about something too much.


Strengths: Straight to the point problem solving. Loyal to those who look out him.

Weaknesses: Short temperament. Prone to bursts if rage if pushed far enough.

Fears: Betrayal

Talents: Expert hand to hand combat practioner. Able to handle most firearms. Above average strength.(Has killed a man with a single well placed punch on more than one occasion.)

Hobbies:Working out, keeping his boxing skills polished. Otherwise can be found watching various movies.

SUPERNATURAL INFORMATION Is your character aligned to the supernatural?: N/a


If hired by Laguna Nera what positions would you be interested in? Mainly security, keeping the peace.

If accepted into the Marino Famiglia what type of roles would interest you? Bodyguard. Prefers to do most of the fighting.


Please provide a modest summary of your character's history.

In his younger years Marcus Turner was mostly known as one of the toughest and deadliest boxers in the world, becoming a five time middle weight champion. The only reason he took his title five times was because he would simply vacate it to get other fighters a chance, only to take it from them once he felt like it. He has an undefeated record: 60 wins, 0 losses, 0 draws, with all of his wins being by knockout in early rounds. Things were looking up for him, until a certain crime family ordered him to throw a championship fight so they could earn some extra money. Marcus not only refused them, but ended up killing his opponent in a fit of rage during the match. Afterwords he was on the run, deciding to use his talents for bodyguard work, until he eventually became a killer for hire. While he didn't particularly do this job for the fun of it, it taught him the necessary skills he needed in order to destroy the criminal organization that was after him in the first place. Now he simply works for the highest bidder, completing jobs here and there until he's able to find his place in the world.


What makes a man, a man. Is it the choices he makes? Or maybe he has to carry himself a particular way? In today's world, everyone loves to judge someone by their actions. Either they are seen as a real man, or a cowardly child. A hero or a monster. A hero or a villain. It really makes you wonder what type of impact you are truly leaving on the world. How would people remember you once you've died? These thoughts had been plaguing the former boxing champion Marcus Turner. Since his retirement from the ring he decided to take to inflicting pain upon others as a busniess venture. Of course it paid well enough, but sometimes, it left a bad taste in his mouth. Killing people for money?

Where's the honor in that? What was he really doing it for?

These questions filled his mind as he sat in a bar, choosing to drink his sorrows away. Even as he was causally dressed in a simple black and blue suit the female patrons who did busniess there tried their best to get his attention. It was a shame for them. Maybe if he wasn't going through his existential crisis, he might have shown them some attention. Even as they tried to speak to him, all he could do was take small sips of his alcholic beverage, staring off into space as if someone or something has possessed him.

Before long, another person entered the bar. Of course it got the boxer's attention because for one, this make stood out. While everyone else wore casual suits and dresses, this one simple wore what looked like some kind of close, hiding his appearance. The only thing that was visible was his head and facial features. His hair was pitch black, abd he stared at Marcus with violet pupils. His approach was slow, as if he was taking his time like a lion on the saharah, stalking it's prey. Unfortunately for him, Marcus was no one's prey, and he certainly wasn't in the mood to deal with whatever this guy was selling.

So, he sipped his drink quietly...

"Marcus Turner.." The male spoke. His voice was gruff, yet hoarse. "I'd like to have words with you." Marcus didn't bother turning around, but he did lower his glass. "I'm not interested. Maybe another time." He was polite in his refusal, deciding to try things the easy way first, but the large male wouldn't have it. "I wasn't asking. There's someone who'd like to meet you. I believe it would be in your best interest to come with me." It wss at that point he felt the large male's hand on his shoulder.

Why did he have to touch him without permission?

Marcus however sat still. Since he already refused he wasn't about to repeat himself, since it doubled as a warning. Since this brute knew who he was, he only assumed he knew just what he was capable of. So either this guy was strong, or he was underestimating the former champion. It didn't sit well with Marcus, especially since he felt himself being tugged out of that chair. As his hands left the bar, he quickly snagged something as he was being brought to his feet. Now being face to face with the make in question, he began to speak again, but Marcus couldn't hear him. He felt disrespected. He felt like he was being treated like a weakling.

This was way past unacceptable for him...

The next set of movements were fluid as they were quick. While the rude male continued to talk, Marcus's right hand went upwards. Within it, was a simple steak knife he had gotten from the bar, and with that sharp object, he quickly stabbed the individual in his temple. Death was almost instantaneous. He then quickly finished him by delivering a vicious right hook towards the temple ok the other side of his head, not only knocking him down, but also casuing his impaled skull to collide with a nearby table, pushing the blade further in to solidify his death.

Now a lifeless corpse, Marcus stared down as the blood began to pour out of the open wound. Not smiling, nor frowing. Just simply, existing within this particular moment in time. He felt threatened, so he had to defend himself in the only way he knew how. He then looked up at everyone else inhabiting the bar. He could see the look of fear written across their faces. His gaze then turned towards the bartender. "Sorry about the mess. I'll uh....make sure to properly compensate you for it later." Before the owner could even respond, Marcus made his way out the door, choosing to walk down the city streets instead of taking his car.

People in this day and age love to judge others. How would they judge him? If he knew better, he safely assumed that he would be judged as a monster. A bad guy. A killer. Someone who was irredeemable. Someone who couldn't be forgiven. Someone beyond saving.

Maybe they were right...

Posted on Tue Jan 01, 2019, 03:32

'Black Sheep


Full Name: Alma Nier
Nicknames: Black Sheep, Gimme some more.
Date of Birth (Age): Alma escaped captivity at age 11, so that is his current default, though he will age up to at least his late teens and eventually into his early twenties.
Gender: Male
Sexuality: Bisexual
Positive Traits: Alma is normally a friendly, playful and free-spirited person. Often found snacking, he is not averse to sharing his snacks with those he likes, he also might not steal your wallet, pocket change, or pocket snacks if he likes you. Alma is also protective of those who have earned his trust, albeit a clearly disturbed and psychotic brand of protectiveness.
Negative Traits: Alma is prone to picking people's pockets, singing songs of death in french, snacking at inappropriate times, taking naps during the work day, distracting Ilaria when she is trying to work, and assaulting those whom rub him the wrong way.
Quirky Traits: Alma due to having been desensitized tends to partake in a casual act of self harm through the sub-culture art that is known as Body Stitching. Alma tends to pick people's pockets when hugging them, and will continue this habit as a way of greeting, not for money, but because he wants any snacks they might have. Alma can often be found snacking on sweets from simple candy to pastries, cakes, and other desserts. Alma in spite of the laws in place, and his own age, carries around on his person a collection of flat-edged switchblades that he can be found playing with when bored.
Mental Disorders: ADHD, Paranoia, Trust Issues, Desensitization towards Pain, Bipolar Disorder, and a tendency to enact the violent impulses engrained into his being when he is insulted, though his actions are more brutal when he enacts such impulses in defense of one he cares about.
Common Habits: Singing songs of death in french, body stitching, snacking at inappropriate times, taking naps through the day, wandering around to "play" (snoop around crime scenes without getting scolded by Mama), or to go to the zoo to draw animal's.
Strengths: Alma in spite of his messed up mentality actually is capable of caring about others, once he cares about someone, he will risk his life to protect them by any means necessary. Alma is actually a nice person once you look past his screwed up past.
Weaknesses: Alma has been desensitzed to such an extent his moral compass appears to be broken, his body is unable to process pain, thus he is acts with reckless abandon. Alma has a habit of assaulting people who insult him, or disrespect Ilaria and Sanji.
Fears: Returning to life as a test subject, people assuming he is a satan spawn because of how strange he behaves. Having to leave the safety offered by Laguna Nera and Ilaria Marino.
Talents: Alma displays exceptional skill when it comes to handling bladed weapons, namely switchblades and scythes. Alma is skilled at acrobatics in and out of combative situations. Alma is a habitual pick-pocket as shown in his first few minutes of interaction with Ilaria Marino.
Hobbies: Alma has an avid interest in the body modification sub-culture of body stitching, as well as having an interest in the occult. Alma's dream is to one day become a Detective who is able to use his position to pay back the debt he feels he owes Ilaria Marino & Sanji Vice, so it should come as no surprise he likes to enact the role of Detective whenever he hears about a crime scene. Sneaking into crime scenes to increase his fledgling skills as an Investigator.
Is your character aligned to the supernatural?: This is sort of a grey area regarding Alma, as his backstory has both supernatural and non-supernatural elements weaved into it. That having been said, I would lean more towards Alma not being supernaturally aligned given the sort of abilities he does possess.
Does your character possess supernatural abilities?: Alma's brand of special abilities focus entirely on boosting his physical capabilities; strength, speed, endurance/durability (due to desensitization), and reflexes, in order to make him more proficient towards the use of his knives and scythe.
Would you be willing to negotiate should they be deemed overpowered for this setting?: Yes, I certainly would be willing to negotiate any necessary character modification to fit Alma into the setting.
Please explain your character's abilities: I mentioned this above, though such abilities are less supernatural and more possible due to the instincts he has developed thanks to his captivity.
Please explain the drawbacks to your character's abilities: The drawbacks to Alma's abilities are that while he can increase these aspects about himself, he is still too young to be able to utilize them to their true extent. Additionally, augmenting his capabilities takes a heavy toll upon Alma's body that eats away at him mentally and physically.
If hired by Laguna Nera what positions would you be interested in?: Given Alma's age he would be unable to handle alcohol at this time, as such, I believe that his being a server and a bus boy would be the best call, for the time being.
If accepted into the Marino Famiglia what type of roles would interest you?: Given the bond I have already begun to forge with Ilaria, I would like for Alma to be her adopted son. As for famigilial role, he could easily handle the role of an Enforcer, or rather a Secret Weapon.
Please provide a modest summary of your character's history.
The child known as Alma was abandoned at birth for unknown reasons, quickly taken off the streets by a rouge coven, he was raised alongside other children as a test subject. Tortured and mutilated daily regardless of his performance as a human lab rat, Alma has become desensitized to the sensation of pain. Years of torture and conditioning went by with no end in sight, ultimately claiming Alma's moral compass as a victim. Hope was lost, until the night of the final test in the experiment. Alma at age eleven killed the rest of the test subjects in cold blood, even the young woman who had become like an elder sister to him, as well as most of the witches whom had made his life a literal living hell.
Alma now at age eleven, has escaped from the underground complex into the streets of New York amidst a terrible blizzard. Alma moved about in search of warmth and an easy mark off of which he could steal money to get by, he picked the wrong mark. Alma chose to pick the pocket of one, Ilaria Marino, a mistake on his part. Alma was caught with ease due to know his target was, reluctantly returning the stolen money as his pursuers arrived to retrieve him. Protected by Ilaria, Alma was able to make a clean escape, showing up at the doors of Leguna Nera on a Friday night with little life energy left in his physically and mentally exhausted body.
Two sets of feet beat against a walkway of gray brick and mortar. The cold, rustic hues of the floor, walls, and ceiling were quite befitting of a such a morbid, sinister locale. Feminine feet adorned by black, high-heel stilettos sent loud, booming echoes crawling across the dimly-lit corridor, drowning out the pitter-patter of scuffed bare feet. Slow burn candles spaced out every few yards along the corridors walls brought odd, ghastly apparitions to life within the duos shadows. Silver chains clinked, grinding together, the vile rattle signaled an irrefutable difference in the worth of their existences.
"Don't you dare disgrace me, Alma~", sang the delightedly cruel tones of a middle-aged woman. Dressed in a red and black pin-stripe business suit, she clutched her possessions lead in her hand, tugging him, dragging him crueally along the corridors length toward an impending light. The noise of hundreds, possibly thousands of voices cheering could now be heard clearly, stirring up something unnatural.
"Oui m'dame! I'll make them sing bloody murder!", The boy responded with an odd glee, joy matched only by the creepy cheshire grin he wore. His wicked sinful smile never faltered, not even when the woman kicked him repeatedly. She hollowed loudly, grotesque plans flowed from her mouth with clear malicious intent as she spit upon the auburn haired child who stood there letting himself be knocked about. The boy showed no signs he was in pain, no signs he intended to retaliate.
Please provide a sample of your writing that is MINIMUM two paragraphs. If you require a prompt one will be provided.
PROMPT: You have arrived at the Laguna Nera on a friday night, by far their busiest day of the week, and the place is packed as per usual. Scanning the room you find all the patrons and the staff scurrying about their tasks until one particular sight catches your attention.

Posted on Wed Dec 05, 2018, 02:36


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