Punk's Not Dead.

[Fatal Star Syndrome]

× M Y T H P U N K .

Alts: X X

× APOLLO . GOD . OF . THE . SUN .

16
Male
God of the sun, music, truth, plague, poetry, and healing
God
Bisexual
Single
Delicate, Soft-Spoken, Contradicting

N A M E :;

× Apollo

A G E :;

× Appears roughly sixteen

G E N D E R :;

× Male

P E R S O N A L I T Y :;

× Placid, levelheaded, and almost withdrawn, Apollo is the black to Artemis' white; the exact opposite of his wild sister. His words, thoughts and ideas are kept, for the most part, in his own head, making him quite the soft spoken introvert. It's not that he doesn't have any important input, it's more that everything he thinks would be considered the logical side, or common knowledge, something that shouldn't have to be put into words. Much like the sun, Apollo is often taken for granted, but if all that logical sense disappeared, or the sun's light stopped shining, things would turn to chaos and eventually end. The odd words that do leave his lips are often spent on his sister, nearly always in an attempt to keep her head on her shoulders, and her fists off of jaws. Still, while Artemis is often the aggressor, she is not always the provoker. If Apollo was ever witness to anyone, male or female, trying to upset or get a reaction out of his less than controlled sister, he wouldn't miss the chance to get to them first. Apollo may hide it much better than she, but his sister is not the only one with a nasty bite.

As far as the members of any gangs are concerned, Apollo, like his name suggests, is known as the God of the sun, but that is not all that was under the God's rule. Also known as God of the arts, Apollo took rule over such things as poetry and music, but also claimed plague and healing. These contradictions confused the teen, and may have even added to his becoming an introvert. It's strange how closely these things tie into the boy, because even though he's quite skilled at medical care and treatment, it seems he's been ill for years. Able to heal others but not himself, it eats at his confidence and pride in his skills. Apollo's sickness is some incurable knot of pain on the inside, often showing itself in spurts of bad coughing headaches. It's something he's lived with for a long time, so he and most other members are used to it. Possibly the only thing to ease it is a long rest in the sun, its warmth seemingly able to rejuvenate him.

While Apollo may not be as healthy or as proud as the rest of the Mythpunk gang members, he still shares their view about the other gangs. He holds a sense of superiority about him, despite his apparent frailness, and isn't above looking down on everyone else. He holds his rank and title as God firm in the gang, and wouldn't even think twice about proving it to an outsider; a mindset all the Mythpunk have.

H I S T O R Y :;

x Like every member within Mythpunk, Apollo's history is a nothing short of a mystery. All the pages are blank in his books, and the only thing worth noting about him is the fact he seems to have the same ability of simply materializing with the rest of his strange gang. Like the others, he showed up out of the blue, and together they began hanging around in Limbo, now to the point where they are almost always there. No one knows who they were before they made their small family of gang members, or how they suddenly seemed to have all decided collectively at once to create it, but Mythpunk makes sure the other gangs see them more than just myth.

There has been only one event since his sudden appearance with the rest of Mythpunk that has stood out as a note-worthy piece of information on the kid. The one thing that made up for the way people saw him, just a frail kid who couldn't even speak for himself. Around the time his sister Artemis, who had made a better name for herself and was a lot more known that he, had disappeared, Apollo seemed to crack open his shell. It seemed as though, when Artemis left, Apollo had awoken to take her place. He was in people's faces then, would bully the others, defend against the tiniest insults with tooth and claw. And then, just after his sister returned, the one who'd ruined her was no more. Gone, like he'd never been there in the first place. Some claim Apollo had been missing during that time as well, but he'd never been the social type, he was always just there. No one could have been sure about it, and so it was dropped, just like his harshness when his sister returned.

T H E M E . S O N G :;

× Get Scared - Don't You Dare Forget the Sun

A N Y T H I N G . E L S E ? :;

× Artemis is his twin sister
x Apollo is on constant medication that doesn't seem to do him any good, but he's now unsure if it would make him worse to get off of.
x There is a 99% guarantee that if you cannot find Apollo, and the sun's out, he will be outside lazing in its rays.

[iva wolf]

~Reserving~

To whoever would like to know, the image I am using here is copyrighted to me. It was made by me and it is meant to be used for this role-play. Here is a link to the site where I put up my art:
https://www.weasyl.com/submission/214535


× S T E A M P U N K .

× Zima Welkin

>>16 years<<
>>female<<
>> Leader<<
>>Heterosexual<<
>>Single<<
>> Observant || Thoughtful || Precise <<

N A M E :;

× Zamira Peperudkina

A G E :;

× 16 years old

G E N D E R :;

× female

P E R S O N A L I T Y :;

× "One can not move forward without their past. What will be the road you walk on, when you have no starting point to begin with? Everything is a past. Be it the present, the near or far future. Everything is a past, because everything will become a past, be it for me, for my comrades or for the future generations. Never disregard the past, because it was the present and future of your ancestors, those without whom you will not have appeared in this world."

That is one of the many sayings of Zima, the leader of the Steampunks, and it clearly shows her opinion on the aspect of The Old Age. With that in mind, it is no surprise that she holds it dear, yet what she truly feels is respect for that time and not utter obsession. Indeed, longing for those moments of the forgotten era is not unknown or unfamiliar to her, however, she believes that moving on into the New Age is not necessarily bad if done in the correct way.

Going backwards, rewinding and recovering that which has been lost is impossible in its original form and this young girl is completely aware of it. One can not attain the glory of their predecessors, since a higher level has already been achieved by the majority and a change in the course from upwards to downwards will, for one, be against evolution itself. But, in her opinion, continuing on a path that shall lead to destruction calls for a shift in direction if not in the opposite, in a drastically different one. The New Age, filled with countless innovations and technological wonders, is no different than the Virus of the outside, only it corrodes the soul within and eventually leads to a demoralization and destruction of the individual, for they forget their past and with it, their mistakes, their flaws and even their enemies. To jump into such a future is like swimming in a sea in which you shall never drown, unknowing that it is full of crocodiles. By thinking in this way, Zima has concluded that in order to create a world where people may live freely, without the danger of being eaten by their own blindness, one must return to the start, the point where the story was left off. Before the Virus's wave and all the events which followed that occurrence, all was almost well. Everything was natural, not locked up in a made-believe world, because people learned from history and prevented most of the mistakes of their past to happen once more. By using that experience of the past, the world was on the right tracks. If taking that experience into consideration once more and standing in that spot in the past, one can take a different route. That is what she aims for. There were many flaws in the world of the past, yet when taking information for the present, those can be avoided and the errors of the present can be corrected by using the past. A win-win situation, only if you do not look too long in the Medusa eyes of the Old Age and do not fall for the Aphrodite beauty of the new one.

As the head of the organization, the goal of which is to fix the errors of the 'now' by using what was 'before', Zima is a strict and confident young person, careful in her decisions and never too quick to judge. Despite looking like a little girl who wants to act tough, you must be assured that she is every bit as strong as the rest of the top punks. With a voice the same as a cold breeze in a soundless winter meadow and a gaze shrouded in shadows, looking as if some sort of demon is lurking within it, she does not bend to anyone's will, neither does she break once attacked. Firmly defending her standpoint, when in quarrels it is a debate for her and she stands her ground strongly, without even a flinch. Of course, there are things which scare her and she knows all too well there are people out there which should not be provoked into battle, however, you can not get this little lass to play dolls with you by pointing a weapon at her or threatening her with brute force. She will stay and not waver from what she believes to be true.

Personally, this young lady prefers going solo. A big part of her day is spent in solitary serenity, but that does not mean she doesn't take care of her gang. Towards most of the members she has mixed feelings. Not being a social butterfly, this leader isn't the type who'll try to be a dominant dog or a kind friendly mouse. Rather, she treats them like colleagues, being kind to new members but stern when needed. Acting neutral in most cases, she hasn't formed true friendship ties with anyone, thus her opinion that the group is like a family isn't that visible, due to the cold front she often has. If someone dares to oppose her authority, her words will echo in the underground labyrinth that is her group's home and will not cease until victory is achieved. Although not keen on being a leader, she's not just going to give up the position. Ideas, suggestions and friendly forums are welcome and she finds it rather enjoyable and very democratic to hear what the rest think and have to say. In a stressing situation, such as an attack or natural disaster, Zima does her best to keep calm and think logically. For her, numbers never truly matter. It is the tactics and the plan that make the difference.

Truth be told, this youngster isn't as emotionless as she often appears to be. Her thoughts and decisions are always for the good of her gang and she puts her needs behind those of others. Having a sweet tooth for poetry, she enjoys reading and creating poetry of her own, yet it is not as dark and as gruesome as that of her allies, the Splatterpunks. Rather, it is often calm, thoughtful, rich in comparisons, but genres can be almost anything, since she likes having a bite of everything. Other kinds of art she finds likeable are books, but only mystery ones; music, the lyrics of which must definitely have meaning to them and the sound itself can not be too high, meaning that screamo, hard metalica and the such are strictly forbidden on her list; riddles, but she is better at solving them than making them; paintings and drawings of any style, although the art of cubism isn't to her liking. Movies are something she doesn't often like, since they do not portray the story as accurately as a book or novel does, but she does find theatrical plays quite intriguing or at least what she has read about them, since no one does them anymore.
In the her free time while not attending a mission she has placed on herself or indulging in some sort of text, Zima prefers tinkering or making some sort of mechanical object. She is quite proficient in making music boxes and watches and has gotten a good hang of guns and other weapons, yet has much to learn about them. Still, if something needs fixing and there is no one up for the job, she'll do it regardless of the item at hand.

H I S T O R Y :;

× It can not be said that Zamira was the first to be interested in the long forgotten times.

Born within the family of a judge and a psychologist, there was no such thing as poverty, abandonment or mistreating. The greatest misfortune, which occurred whilst she was there, was when she was four years old. That was the age she was when her mother died of lung cancer, leaving the child to be raised by the father and he was a man, a very big man in both the metaphoric and literal meaning of the word. Being well-known for his honesty and righteous decisions, he was a formidable person in court. Although he truly was a tall muscular individual, who seemed monstrous at times, he was not as hash when it came to his daughter's personality education. Strict when needed, but gentle as well, following the rules of the house was a must. The way she was treated never bothered the lass, for she completely agreed that everyone had to do their fair share of work both at home and at their work place, which for her was her school. Besides, when she did a good job she got phrased and encouraged to continue, thus she lived on, hoping to meet the expectations of the person, whom she saw having a hard time in balancing the two sides of his life.
Of course, as a child should be, she was cute and childish, getting angry for little things and making a fuss over what to eat for dinner, but the girl quickly learned not to throw tantrums. Seeing how her friends got picked up right after school by their mothers, but she got taken about 20 minutes after the final bell by her father or by a colleague of his cleared up the little one's view quite quickly, at the age of 8 years, and she saw through her father's smiling facade. He was tired and stressed. That is why she decided to grow up to be a responsible adult as fast as possible. Obviously, a elementary-schooler can't just jump out of bed and become someone with mature thinking. But the road to having a line of thought ridden of selfishness and recklessness was put on 'fast forward' in her case.
One of Zamira's favorite quotes by her father was "Everyone deserves to know the truth". It was something he insisted to always use when judging in a session, but also referred to things other than the act of punishing a criminal. Despite all the years which had passed from that time, traditions still lingered in what remained of the world and one of them was held by her father. What he was capable to teach his daughter was the art of pressure points. Hitting in the high place could create multiple effects, depending on the angle and strength put into the hit. This knowledge was considered to be part of "The Old Age" because of the manners and discipline which came with it , thus was scorned by the vast majority of society, which was the reason why the man had to give the lass lessons in secret. Martial Arts no longer existed and even the huge data from his predecessors had become just that: data, information on how things are properly done, yet could not be practiced, due to various reasons. However, the precise and strict ways of this teaching came as a blessing as they not only provided an efficient defense mechanism, but also improved her concentration and determination to continue forwards regardless of the obstacles and pain. It was a fine path of character building.
By the time she became 12 years of age, Zamira was already a fully-fledged fighter, relying on fast maneuvers, lightning reflexes, and agility. However, that was when the problems began. At first it didn't seem serious, a trivial murmuring, a comment flung into the air about her father's thinking being a bit too outdated. It is interesting how such a miniature dim spark is capable of lighting a fire which can burn down an entire life. The murmuring turned into playful jokes and those jokes into gossip. Soon enough, the local court was conquered by the idea of the judge being a conservative, an oldie, a past-lover. It did not take long for this to reach the ears of people in higher positions, yet it did not trouble them. The ones below would do the dirty work of making a reason. And indeed, young lawyers began accusing the man openly. The slander became louder and echoed through the halls, on and on until one day, the one who had always given righteous judgement was taken down on partly-false accusations. Some little things, such as his not completely discarding the past of the world, were true, but the part about him making a sect or letting 'Old Age bowers' off the hook out of sympathy were utter nonsense. Yet the ear believes what the wind blows at it. Within half a year he was out of a job and with no way to provide for his family.
The girl doesn't know how her father made them pull through for the passing months, but at the end of the year desperation and fear were often written on his face. Surprisingly though, he did his best not to allow it to get to him. Whatever was coming, he knew that one thing was for certain: his daughter would stay alive. One night someone came knocking on their door. Her father had told her to get the some necessary items beforehand and wait outside the house at a distance, in the shadow of another building. Knowing that the loan sharks had come for him, he out a candle, a rare item in the current world, which he had placed on the window, signalizing to the youngster that this was no longer her home.
Her father's fate was evident to her. She had cried for him the day before, not wanting to leave the only family member she had, but such was the destiny she had and with her parent's last encouragement, she moved on. A young girl in a big scary world, she felt frightened if not petrified, but continued walking down the cold dark streets. Slowly but surely, she made her way to the Slums and if we had to be more precise, the east outskirts of the Slums, where the Library was located. Her first contact with the gangs began when she met members of Splatterpunk. Their ways were intriguing and way of life - tempting, yet when they explained the structure of the system to her, she realized her place was among the ranks of the so-called Steampunk gang.
When it comes to her rise in the list, it didn't cost Zamira much. She changed her name to a better sounding one, let go of the last pieces of sadness caused by her father's death and climbed to the spot she wished. The girl's aim was not huge, rather, what she wanted was a quiet place to think and live, where the bickering and shouting of the loud mindless world couldn't reach. Her wish was granted, but her talent did not go unnoticed. The way she talked, the way she thought, her confidence and progress in learning all sorts of things by borrowing books from the library was admired by some of the members, even by the leader. Her coming to the throne wasn't entirely by her will. The leader had perished after a foolish ambush by a huge swarm of the Cyberpunks. It was an accident. Something was pushed by mistake, something broke and something fell, making the buildings crumble and shatter. Back in the underground, the survivors were either panicking or in utter confusion. No one was in condition to lead. At that point, Zima took the opportunity by forcing herself for the sake of the gang's stability. Someone had to lift their spirits and make them strive forward to continue the journey of achieving their mutual dream.

T H E M E . S O N G :;

× "Watchmaker" by Hands like Houses
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=UUqGyOW5xJI

A N Y T H I N G . E L S E ? :;

~There is a little pocket at the back of the band of the goggles where a monocle is kept. It is useful when observing small objects.
~Zima knows four languages:English, Japanese, Bulgarian, Latin. The last on the list is the latest language she has taken up and is still in the early stages of learning.
~She knows how to fight using pressure points.
~She likes climbing up the chimneys from the underground, up the library, all the way to the top in order to get to the building's roof where she can watch the surroundings.
~Although not a chitter-chatter when talking to people, this girl has found interacting with the mice which live underground to be quite impressive.
~Zima is actually colourblind, her case being that she can only see black, white and the shades of grey. This is sometimes a disadvantage, but it also allows her to see better in the dark and pick up camouflages.
~In the picture, what she is wearing isn't a cape. It's a dark brown coat with a hood. The long sleeves are part of it, but the rest is pushed backwards, in order for me to show what she wears underneath.

[Clavicle]

[Ugh ugh, I'm sorry for the sloppy... well, everything [drawing and writing]. I'm in a bit of a hurry, so everything is kinda bad rn. umu;;]

× B I O P U N K .

× S Y D N E Y .

19
Male
Atrax robustus
Second-in-command
All the homo
Sadly, single
Cruel | Competitive | Stubborn

N A M E :;

× Joel “Sydney” Robinson

A G E :;

× Nineteen exactly

G E N D E R :;

× Male

P E R S O N A L I T Y :;

× The selfish blood runs through my veins..

Being stubborn to a fault, as competitive as they come, and with enough determination to last him a lifetime, Joel can definitely be quite the handful. Barely an adult yet, and he already feels as if he owns the streets he walks on — he always has. The world that he lives in, those graffitied slums, is his to play with whenever he pleases, and any opposition standing in the way of his goals would be swiftly disposed of, which is simply his way of life. No grudges or hard feelings. When it comes down to it, however, Joel cares little for simply trumping over his enemies; rather, he is much more interested in completely humiliating them through every step of the way, reveling in their defeat as their fallen bodies pave his way to sure victory. Making Joel give up on anything that he has set his sights on is a daunting task when brought up, and absolutely impossible when put into practice. He didn’t get to where he currently is by tucking his tail between his legs, after all. Opinionated? That’s Joel as well. While he does poorly in debates, he isn’t shy about voicing his opinion whenever possible. In fact, he will outright get into someone’s face, especially if they are ignoring him. He rarely takes no for an answer, and beats up anyone who attempts to force him to do so.

Despite his outwardly arrogant appearance, however, Joel is an unusually cheeky person, and not to mention playful. Cracking jokes to lighten the mood is one of his favorite pastimes, and if he could insult someone with a few humorous, well placed words, well, he’ll be happy. And, to the surprise of most everyone, he is quite touchy-feely. He has his specific people, people who he would hang off of when he feels lonely or deprived of contact. He enjoys the feeling of fingers running through his hair, over his scalp, and fingers which he could play with and intertwine with his own. This affectionate side of him is a rare sight for many people, and only a select few are privy to it, which is the way Joel would like things to stay forever.

Joel is... tactless. Tactless would be the perfect world. And tact itself might as well be that perpetually drunk and slightly creepy uncle that nobody “remembers” to ever invite to family gatherings. On many subjects, Joel doesn’t care for people’s personal opinions. He cares little for their feelings as well, which is another manifestation of his deep-seated cruelty. Such a large cruel streak runs in his blood, that it can be frightening when it manifests fully. Joel is capable of aggression, domination, and humiliation. He has no remorse for poisoning others for the fun of it, and revels in their reactions when he kicks them while they’re down. He would rather throw an enemy’s face into the wall rather than talk things out. He is an aggressor, and he is perfectly capable of being cruel.

Making decisions is something that comes a bit difficult to Joel. He rarely makes up his mind quickly, staying to ponder on a subject for what can be quite a long time. He has been known for picking the third option out of two, or relentlessly searching for an answer out of others. And, sometimes, if he thinks too much, he might just forget what he had been thinking of in the first place. Joel has a habit of letting his mind wander off, and it could happen in mundane or crucial moments alike. Tangents of sentences turn into garbled words and letters in his head, which form new thoughts that could be completely irrelevant to his situation. His mind could usually be described as a very, very chaotic place. His preference for Nirvana and Skittles hardly helps the matter any. Joel’s poor concentration is something that has plagued him for a long time. He is easily distracted [unless extremely focused], especially by interesting people. If he finds somebody who holds his interest, he will gravitate around them until they have outlived their usefulness — entertaining him.

Joel is one of the better actors of his generation. At the very least, when it comes to faking his dark intentions, he’s got things in the bag.

H I S T O R Y :;

× Having escaped from home at an early age, Joel earned his medal for street smarts by surviving in the dirty slums of Tekno. Joining the Biopunks at the tender age of thirteen, he worked his way up by clawing, tearing, and biting at anyone or anything that stepped in his way, eventually securing himself a space up there with the big boys as the second-in command.

His home life was... to put it best, decent enough. To put it worst, absolutely unbearable. Joel had never been fond of his parents. His father left, gone, gone away during the night before Joel’s fifth birthday, leaving Joel and his mother alone. The woman herself was an irritating sort, an artist that spent her days locked up in the basement where little sun or humanity reached. Joel could have sworn up and down that she’d been getting crazier by the minute. He was left to his own devices most of the time, knowing that his mother expected him to only be there at dinner, and to later retreat to bed in a timely manner. As such, he grew up a child with no rules or boundaries to keep him restrained. Despite this, however, Joel soon became extremely bored with his life. The clean, bright city that he lived in left little to the imagination, and though conventional amusements like hoverboards kept him occupied, there was only so much that could entertain him until the dam broke. Joel ran away from home at the impressionable age of twelve, seeking those Punks that he had heard so much about, and never looked back.

He became interested in poisons during his fourth year run with the Biopunks, and the first poison that he produced was his own. After having [successfully, and secretly] tested it out on a live subject, he began experimenting with injecting it in willing participants, more often than not those that he had bullied into helping him. He was careful to never give enough to kill or paralyze, but very soon he found out just how dangerous his poison could actually be. Following an “incident” which left him stricken with the true gravity of the situation, he worked tirelessly to develop an anti-venom, to be used when he pleased. While he didn’t want to participate in gene splicing too much, finding it dull, he continued experimenting with poisons, growing bolder and bolder by the day.

These days, Joel is still enjoying his job as a second in command to the Biopunks, and keeps developing his poisons. He also helps out with gene splicing sometimes, taking over a newbie that he sees potential in. Overall, he has a pretty cushy place, and he’s not about to give it up any time soon.

T H E M E . S O N G :;

× Don't Stop by InnerPartySystem

A N Y T H I N G . E L S E ? :;

× Joel’s venom, while highly toxic for normal humans, has a drastically lowered effect against other Biopunks due to the animal genes that they carry. However, it does work on them as well, albeit to a much tamer degree.

• In addition to his multiple eyes and chelicerae, Joel has three pairs of long spider legs sprouting out of his back. It makes wearing clothes rather difficult, but he manages.

• Joel can pull his chelicerae/fangs in, but he can barely speak when they are inside. When they are out, he has a bad lisp in which he mostly hisses or messes up his ‘S’s in some way. Safe to say, he prefers to use sign language to get around most conversations, and becomes extremely frustrated because not many understand it.

• Most of the time, his human eyes are obscured by dark goggles.

• He will beat you up for a dollar. No, really, don’t test him.

• He’s quite good at hand to hand fighting, but his fighting style is mostly improvised and very wild.

[Stray Dog]

× C Y B E R P U N K .

× V A N I T Y .

17.
Male.
Bug.
Pansexual.
Crushing on Sydney.
Sly; manipulative; energetic.

N A M E :;

× Simon "Skittles" Chancey.

A G E :;

× 17 years old.

G E N D E R :;

× Male.

P E R S O N A L I T Y :;

× "Just because we think something does not really make it a sin. Just because we want something, doing so does not make us sinful. Just because we feel, it does not make us sinners." - Wise words from a wise man that perfectly sum up Vanity and his personal views on the world he lives in. Punks such as he are viewed as sinners, living off of lust, greed, envy, sloth, gluttony, wrath and vanity... which is, of course, where his name came from. Vanity admits that he has a particular love for himself and the way his life is, the person he is, and that he looks out for nobody but himself, despite being a part of a gang like Cyberpunk. Then again, after saying that, Cyberpunk is less a family, as the other gangs are, and more of a gathering of druggies, party animals and those desperate for a good time.

Vanity is no exception to this. With his admitted addiction to the drug, skittles - of which he also deals to others, at a fair price, of course -, and his craving for human interaction but not attachment, an entirely different thing altogether, Vanity feels right at home in the lively Slums of Cyber's territory. As the Skittles serve as a stimulant keeping Vanity upbeat and buzzing all the time, he comes across as a highly sociable guy with a somewhat twisted sense of humour, sure, but still super friendly and open to new friends and ideas. In truth, this is mostly just the drug's doing. The stimulant provides him with an endless amount of energy, leaving Vanity highly alert at all times and causing him to seek out ways to burn up his unnatural fuel by getting into all sorts of mischief and illegal activities.

Among these illegal activities is a not-so-illegal one, as Vanity serves as a bug for The Hive. His payment? A monthly supply of skittles, given to him at each briefing with The Hive, keeping up his skittle addiction and serving as a form of income as he redistributes a third of it. Yeah, Vanity admits, being a spy for the very institution he hates is a crappy situation to be stuck in; but you'd understand if you ever saw Vanity on one of his withdrawals. The usually upbeat boy turns dark, sour, suffering night terrors from his past and lashing out at people with words of venom and fists of fury. He screams at anyone who so much as touches him, threatening people with Splatter-like sadism. Vanity without skittles is a monster to be feared, hated, and avoided at all costs.

However, it is worth noting that, if Vanity were to get past the initial suffering of a skittles withdrawal and successfully drop the highly-addictive drug, his 'true' self wouldn't be much different than his intoxicated one. He'd be more calm, less excitable, but still a fairly open guy... although, that openness would be a lie, as Vanity is a selfish creature who loves to play others like puppets. Even now, while on skittles, he still takes advantage of those around him, using them for sex, drugs, money and his own personal entertainment. He's been warped beyond repair, the poor boy, but still insists on living life like it's just one big party that will never end.

H I S T O R Y :;

× How perfectly ironic it would be that the very thing Vanity's current life revolves around is what ruined the perfect life he once had. Born in the city, Vanity was a mummy's boy for sure, a spoiled little brat babied right up until the ripe age of ten. For, at that age, Vanity's twin brothers came into the world. Now, having been an only child for the majority of his life, Vanity - or Simon, as he was known then - had become comfortable with getting everything he wanted. As soon as his parents suddenly couldn't afford to tend to his every selfish need, Simon did everything he could to get their attention away from the twins, Daniel and Zeno, and back to himself. These things started off small and harmless, like getting extra high marks in school or showing off his very creative drawings, but, when after three years his parents tired even of that, Simon turned to more extreme measures...

Vanity was very well aware of the skittles his parents took twice daily, to keep their energy levels high enough to deal with two baby boys they never expected. So, as an experiment, one day he took it for himself. He was instantly hooked, resorting to taking the sweet drug once a day. Then twice. Then three times daily, his parents never noticing a thing past the fact that their month-worth of Skittles, legally purchased through The Hive, was gone within a week. The blame turned to each other until a divorce was settled, leaving Vanity more lonely and neglected than ever before.

The twins went with his mother, Vanity being stuck with his father. This arrangement only lasted a few months, however, as his father picked up more drugs than just Skittles. Alcohol, Fluff, even some Nirvana... all mixed together and downed by an angry drunk, whose beatings turned to something darker, something a young boy should never suffer - especially not at the hands of their own father. So, what did Vanity do? He ran away. Like the coward he was, he took as much of his dad's stash of skittles - now addicted to the stimulant, worse even than his father - and fled for The Slums, for the Punk gangs where he knew he'd finally be noticed.

However, there was one little snag on the road. Not even halfway to his destination, the nightclub of Limbo, Vanity ran out of skittles. Now, this had a strange effect on Vanity, causing him to fall into a state of depression... while normally upbeat and carefree thanks to the drugs, his true feelings of unending pain and sorrow hit him like a tidal wave, drowning him, causing the boy to simply collapse in a dark alleyway, losing any and all will to go on. Memories of his father's abuse caused Vanity's skin to feel like spiders were crawling all over it, like he just wanted to tear away his skin and the memories of what had been done to it. Left dwelling on these dark thoughts, scratching away at the skin on his arms until it bled, Vanity was saved by The Hive in his most desperate time of need.

They set him up with a job as a bug for the gangs. His payment? 5kg of skittles a month. That was more than enough to sustain his addiction, keep him happy, and even sell to other gang members for a profit. Vanity made his way into Cyberpunk, the gang he'd fit into the best, and set up ties with many through his redistribution of the skittles drug. He gathers any and all information he can or at least enough to report to The Hive each week - nothing too important, no, just enough to keep them satisfied and keep his job as a bug secret from the rest of Cyber.

For four years, Vanity has been able to keep up this act, earning the nickname Skittles for the drug many go to him to get. He's not a bad guy, not really... but, if you had to choose between drowning in sorrow or being permanently happy, while both options have their cons, happiness is always the right answer.

T H E M E . S O N G :;

× Can You Feel My Heart - Bring Me The Horizon.

A N Y T H I N G . E L S E ? :;

× Vanity likes to serve as a recruiter for Cyber when he finds gangless runaways in Limbo.
× Vanity's bestest buddy in the world is Arlo Vane, probably his best customer of Skittles... so much so that he even gets free samples, every now and again.
× While it isn't impossible for Vanity to pull himself out of the depression faced when coming off of Skittles, he sees no reason to drop the drug any time soon.

[Stray Dog]

× B I O P U N K .

× F A N G .

22.
Male.
Canis lupus.
Second-in-command.
Assumed heterosexual.
Single.
Charming; level-headed; teasing.

N A M E :;

× Dempsey Vansteeland.

A G E :;

× 22 years old.

G E N D E R :;

× Male.

P E R S O N A L I T Y :;

× Fang serves as the voice of reason in Raptor's messed up little head. While "Mad Maddy" is prone to losing his temper and running rampant, losing control of himself and his actions due to his raptor DNA, Fang maintains a level of calm that reaches the point of being scary, at times. He seems to be all business and no play, but, this is far from the case as Fangh is prone to teasing Maddock and some of the younger members, yet only in a way that comes off as affectionate; he is most definitely not one to start fights - rather, Fang is the one to bring them to a halt and smooth things over afterwards.

Fang possesses a high level of intelligence and cunning, manipulative in the best sort of way. While he is far from interested in being Leader of Biopunk, he is satisfied with being a man with slight authority and little responsibility. He is skilled at smooth talking potential members into joining their ranks, in convincing other gangs that Biopunk is a very well-behaved gang and dealing with any members who may cause problems, like, for example, their Leader. In only the way he seems to be able to do, Fang manages to keep Maddock in line without coming off as being too commanding. This is probably due to the fact that Fang's interests lie in keeping Maddock safe from harm, rather than over-throwing or undermining his authority as Leader.

H I S T O R Y :;

× Coming from a rather wealthy family, Fang was raised with a higher education and grew to mature at a faster rate than most. Even now, one would not be mistaken in saying that, if it weren't for his animalistic alterations, Fang would not be out of place in the high-class office buildings of Tektron. With businessman-like charm, an extensive vocabulary, a sharp mind and knack for influencing people, one can't help but wonder what Fang is doing with a crowd like Biopunk.

Well, to put it simply, Fang was bored. Everything in his life was too easy, too predictable; as much as he liked order, he simply adored chaos. To maintain order is one thing, but, to create a sense of order in a world of chaos, with underlying turmoil and potential for disaster at any moment, that was what Fang really loved. So, making sure to cover his tracks well and take anything he'd ever need, Fang set out to Limbo with the full intention of joining the Biopunks. He'd done his research, made his decisions, and settled into the gang quite nicely. He was nineteen at the time and it didn't take long for him to become a well-respected member of the gang, rising to second-in-command smoothly, and with no intentions of going any higher.

T H E M E . S O N G :;

× Nothing and Everything - Red.

A N Y T H I N G . E L S E ? :;

× Fang is a user of Fluff, only to the extent that it keeps him calm and yet does not slow his movements.
× Although intelligent, Fang has little interest in performing alterations on the newer members; he's perfectly capable, and assissts from time to time, but mostly finds it too much work to bother with.
× It's rare to find Fang away from Maddock, as he cares deeply for the boy, and often worries about his well-being.

[Fatal Star Syndrome]

× C Y B E R P U N K .

Alt: X X

× ICARUS

21
Male
Second-in-command
Heterosexual
Ball and chain >> Viktoria
Loud, outgoing, nonchalant

N A M E :;

× Arlo Vane

A G E :;

× Twenty-one

G E N D E R :;

× Male

P E R S O N A L I T Y :;

× Fun loving with an easy going core, Arlo isn't difficult to make friends with. He's open to most things, and is never quick to judge. Being open to things to Arlo, means feeling the need to try everything at least once. He believes there are certain things you must accomplish in your life, and everything else is experimental. Because of this, he can be a little too outgoing, and perhaps a little unreasonable. This is also the reason he was married so early, because it was something on life's checklist that should have been completed. That's not to say he sees Viktoria as just any other person, because he does feel love towards her, but it may be best described as a convenience to have had her there.

Commitment is an issue often avoided by Arlo, as he's conflicted about its meanings and limitations. He can be flirty at times, without meaning to offend anyone by it, but usually keeps pretty close to Viktoria. It usually comes on when he's caught up in raves and drugs, with a head that may as well have left his shoulders.

From a young age Arlo had gotten caught up in drugs. Without anyone to tell him no, or to explain the side effects, they were just another experiment. To this day he denies his addiction, but he hardly goes more than two days without a high. It's been about seven years since he started, and they've now just become a part of life, like they are with most members of Cyberpunk. He is well aware of Viktoria's view on them, and her reasoning behind it, but he refuses to give up his lifestyle, and doesn't even know if he could.

Arlo is very nonchalant about most things, and it's evident in the way he speaks. Nothing is too big of a deal to him, and he's pretty good at taking things in. He isn't completely drab, however, and loves more than anything to be out and partying with his friends in the very large gang of the Cyberpunk's. Out there, he's humorous, sarcastic and carefree. Perhaps the only time where he drops his edgy attitude he'd developed as a kid.

H I S T O R Y :;

× Arlo is the aftermath of a hasty couples lust, and only knows his name because of a 'Hello my name is __' sticker attached to his clothes when he was just a baby. Left at a random doorstep, Arlo was raised by an aging lady he can no longer remember until he was about five when she passed away. She went of natural old age and died in her sleep, and when she didn't leave her room for days with no company, Arlo took life into his own hands. Growing up on the streets of Tektron was anything but easy, and food was about as common as animals. When someone saw a snot-nosed kid digging through their things or stealing, their first thought usually wasn't to give him a warm, home cooked meal. The boy wasn't ever much for complaining though, and when he was picked up by the back of his shirt and tossed back to the streets, it was often with a protruding tongue and a grin. Arlo would often stick to the cover of night to sneak through the city and take from trashcans, especially when he was hitting homes rather than restaurants. There was something about seeing a street kid on their property that they didn't like, so he preferred to go unseen to spare himself their noises.

It was after his first year of living on the streets that he saw met the strange girl, the one who'd been up way past her bedtime and was sitting outside in her backyard. Arlo had looked up from digging around in her garbage, his torso nearly all in and some scraps in his mouth. She was watching him curiously, quietly, and didn't say a word. He half assumed her to get up and boot him out, but she couldn't have been much older than he was. Figuring he was safe to take what he wanted, he ignored her. He didn't know what it was that brought him back, either the safety of knowing no one would stop him, or the silent company, but Arlo came back to that house night after night. Sometimes he'd dig in that garbage even when there were no good pickings there, just pretending to look around while she sat there watching him, curious. It was one of those times that the girl decided to talk to him. It was funny how much embarrassment her very first words caused him.

"You know, there's nothing in there."

It was true, there was literally nothing but an empty bag in there. His hands were waving about in empty space, his yellow eyes peeking up at her. They must have taken it out early. It made him freeze to hear her speak, and he pulled his arms out quickly, as if there were suddenly piranhas in the trashcan. "I know that." He retorted sourly, creasing his brows. The girl, whatever her name was, just sat there and stared back at him, like he'd said something so dumb it didn't even deserve a response. His nose wrinkled as he scowled, but instead of calling him out on his lie, she just stood up and went inside. He could see the lights flick on as she moved through the house, and off again after she exited each room. He half expected her to come back with her parents, finally finding him annoying enough to tattle on. But no, instead of an angry adult, she held a box instead. A box of crackers. His stomach grumbled knowingly at it, but he refused to move. Instead of handing him the box, offering in any way, or even eat them herself, she tipped the box over and dumped a bunch on the ground in front of her.

"What are you doing?" If she thought he was going to come crawling up on his hands and knees for food she was sorely mistaken. Rather than answer him though, she sat down and started eating crackers from the pile.

"Aren't you hungry?"

Arlo's stomach answered for him, and eventually he joined her, sitting slouched on the ground while she sat cross-legged and shared the crackers with her. They ate mostly in silence, aside from the crunching which seemed to be amplified by the quiet. After that, Arlo's visits were longer and they sat together and ate, and never out of the garbage. It was the third time that they exchanged names.

When Arlo was only ten years old he began using and abusing the drugs that were very common on the streets. Mostly Skittles for the pickup, but he tried whatever he could get his hands on. This slowed down his visits to Viktoria immensely, eventually to the point where he'd go half a week without seeing her. She was curious to say the least, and asked him about it whenever he did show up, but he was reluctant to tell her. It wasn't until she started following him out onto the streets that she found out. Viktoria had found him during one of his highs, and asked to experience the same thing. Arlo was cautious to a point, but when she showed enough interest he slipped her a tablet. The drug was a hallucinogen, and played on sight as the main sense, but when Viktoria experienced it, she was terrified. He remembers her screaming, and taking it worse than he'd seen anyone have. She kept holding her hand over her left eye like it hurt her, or like her whole head might burst if she let go. Arlo panicked, he but wasn't in the right mind himself and just tried to hold her still. When he removed her hand, he saw her eye had rolled to the back of her head and when it came back down it was so noticeably out of place it disturbed even him. He took her home after that, left her on the front step and rang the doorbell. He waited down the street until someone came to get her and then ran away.

The two didn't see each other for months after that, mostly due to Arlo's avoidance of her entire block and the two after it. During this time he spent a lot of time at Limbo with the gangs, already leaning toward one to join. Returning to the nightclub to see Viktoria there was just a little more than startling. Apparently she'd been asking around and found Limbo to be a gathering place for kids like him. She was just like he remembered her, aside from one new addition. An eye patch covering her left eye. It had been ruined because of him. He felt guilty to say the very least, but when she spoke of leaving home to stay with him he was ecstatic.

The two revisited Limbo often up until he was fourteen, and then they began running with the Cyberpunk's. Joining was easy and Arlo fit right in, being an outgoing party lover and knowing the streets like the back of his hand. He wasn't that into the hacking side of it, but he figured there were enough members to get the job done. Arlo and Viktoria found places easy within the gang, and when they were old enough to understand the concept, starting dating. It was always a convenience to Arlo, to have her at his side. That's why, when he asked her to marry him, it was probably the most casual proposal ever made. He figured if he had a girl already willing, there was no use wasting time and waiting. He didn't figure he was going anywhere and she always seemed infatuated with him. She cried, like most girls do, despite his nonchalant approach, and said yes. They shared silver rings imprinted with colourful gems, something that fit with the Cyber's sense of style. A lot of the other kids always looked down on them for going ahead with it, but Arlo was always really easy going about it, and didn't appear to be bothered.

While Arlo was out partying, Viktoria spent more time with the hacking side of the gang, and became pretty well known for her work too. Currently the two live in the slums with the rest of the gang, holding their ranks against the odds of their past.

T H E M E . S O N G :;

× Xilent - Boss Wave

A N Y T H I N G . E L S E ? :;

× Heavily into the drug aspect of the gang, probably the only point of disagreement between himself and Viktoria.
x Within their relationship he is not as attached as Viktoria, and sees it with a very laid-back point of view. Not to say he doesn't love her, he's just not the lovey-dovey type.
x When he feels like being mindful of her, Arlo often munches on candies rather than drugs when Viktoria is around, making him quite the sugar addict as well.
x Has a slight English accent.

[Kaiya Lyra Cooper]

× C Y B E R P U N K .

Alts: XXX

× E U R E K A

Twenty Two
Female
Hacker
Heterosexual
Happily Married to >Arlo Vane<
Caring – Extroverted – Competitive

N A M E :;

× Viktoria Aris Vane

A G E :;

× Twenty Two

G E N D E R :;

× Female

P E R S O N A L I T Y :;

× Having such a normal life as a kid when she was young, both parents’ intact, no huge issues, Viktoria became a well-rounded kid. She was showed large amounts of respect with her parents, taking in any information they had to offer, and not questioning them. She rarely got into fights and had made a few friends from school that she rarely saw away from school, more from her parents’ choice to keep her busy with her school work. She loathed the fact that she was rarely allowed to see any of her friends, but she figured there was a good reason behind it and didn’t let it affect her on the outside. That’s the reason she became so attached to Arlo. He was basically her little secret friend that she could see every night.

As she grew up, her grades stayed steady and held amongst the highest within the classes. She came to understand the reason her parents rarely let her go out and even thanked them as she took note that she’d be able to become anything she really wanted. The way her parents had raised her caused her to be extremely competitive, always striving to be on top.

Due to what happened to her when she gave Nirvana a chance, anything involving drugs became a touchy subject. Becoming a member of Cyberpunk turned out to be a bit of a mistake due to all of the drugs; however she stays strong as long as she’s with Arlo. He’s the one who drives her. When she’s with him, she feels as though she can conquer anything, and so she tries to stick as close to him as she can. She understands that she needs his space, and so when that time comes, she tends to stay in secluded areas, working on her hacking, trying to stay up to date with electronic security systems. Always trying to keep current with net information so there’s no confusion when she’s in a pinch.

She a very social person, and enjoys chatting it out with the other members of the gang when she can tell they’re in a clear state of mind. If she doesn’t agree with something she’ll let her opinion be known, however won’t fight to change others. She wants to have children someday (not that she’s told Arlo) and although she hasn’t had much contact with the youngsters, she likes to think she’d be good with them. She cares for the well beings of others, and if she sees drive in them, she’ll offer to help them reach their goals.

Although she’s in Cyberpunk, and she does enjoy partying, she’ll never touch drugs again. Her kind and caring, cool headed personality disappears at the mention of drugs, and she’ll voice her own. It completely changes her, often giving people a bad first impression of her if they meet her in limbo. She’ll be quick to rise in anger and not hesitant to get into a fight, despite certain physical disadvantages she may have.

H I S T O R Y :;

× Viktoria was born into such a typical, ordinary family, that looking back on it now she was glad she left. A mother, a father, happily married, same old boring jobs day in and day out. There was nothing special about it. Not that it disgusted her in any way, in fact she admired and respected her parents, their life just wasn't her cup of tea, and there was one particular fellow who helped her realize that. His name was Arlo Vane, the boy she met when she had only just turned seven. His daily visits with her stemmed not from his interest in her, but rather an interest in her garbage. August fifth, she could remember it clearly, even though she was only seven. There had been a particularly heated conversation that had arisen between her parents, sending all sorts of horrifying thoughts through her head, terrorizing her keeping her mind active and unwilling to rest. With all of the whirring thoughts, she left her room, and snuck out the back door, sitting on the step outside, enjoying the cool breeze, and allowing it to cleanse her mind. That was until she heard a rattling at the back gate, petrifying her, convincing her that all of her tainted thoughts had taken a physical form. She couldn't move her body, sitting there, wide eyed, just waiting for her life to be taken by some demon revealing itself from the dark, though it wasn't a demon at all. No, in fact what had been revealed from the curtains of the night was a small boy, not much younger than her. A breath of relief was drawn, yet she still felt no muscle control and was forced to just watch the young boy walk right past her and go straight for the garbage can they kept in the back.

He was half torso in, the top half that is, digging as deep as he could. Moments later, he retracted his body from the can and the two made eye contact for the first time. Her heart skipped a beat as their eyes met, unsure of what to do. Her parents surely wouldn't approve of some boy eating their trash, but she had been so frustrated and torn because of them that she didn't care what they thought. She decided to just watch the boy, who soon began looking in the can once again. A small smile flashed on her lips, but only for an instant, for but a few moments later the boy had disappeared. A strange feeling overcame her, the one where you realize something might just not have happened, and it was all in your head. It was unsettling, but it was the deciding factor that would make her mind up to come out the next night in hopes of seeing the same strange boy.

And as the next night made its arrival, so did the boy. Almost in the exact same position as the previous night, she just sat there, smiling, watching as the boy dug through their trash. It was a relief that she hadn’t scared him away. This would have been the first thing she had hid from her parents, but she knew if they had found out, they would make sure that he never came back.

Soon it felt as though she was becoming more and more excited for those same silent ten minute visits, rather than the entirety of the day that seemed to go by, accomplishing nothing important in her eyes. As the boy came, night after night, she took note that his visits started becoming longer and longer. Viktoria was a cunning child, one of great observation, coming to the realization that the boy may be there for more than just the garbage. Perhaps he enjoyed the company she presented him with just as much as his midnight dinners. There was only one way to find out.

Her plan had come together perfectly, disguising her true motives to take the trash to the community trash disposal as simply being an obedient respectable child. The real reason she was doing such a thing was to see if the boy would spend the same amount of time that he normally did, digging through nothing. As the day fell and the night rose, the boy showed up, on schedule as per usual. He made his way to the trash can and once again, just as she suspected, pretended to dig.

"You know, there's nothing in there."

Those were the first words she ever spoke to him. Looking back she wished she had spoken perhaps softer, but his reply was nothing but just as harsh.

“I know that!”

This kid definitely had some attitude. It was something she found compelling about him. She stood in silence just staring at him, her mouth still holding a triumphant smile for a good ten seconds before turning to go inside without a word. She made her return outside, down the steps, and to the yard only a minute later holding a box of crackers. She sat down on the sidewalk, shifting around to make herself comfortable before sprinkling a few crackers on the ground in front of her, hoping the boy would come and sit with her. With not a single flaw with her plan, it had been completed. The boy approached her and sat down with a rather humiliated expression, to which her smile still held.

Their small meetings turned into full blown dinners, Viktoria attempting to eat as little as she possibly could at dinners and saving the rest for her midnight dates. As the days passed on, the words that they exchanged increased as well, such as their names on their third dinner. Arlo was the boy’s name, and such a sweet name to her ears.


The two of them seemed to have a great deal of patients, for it wasn’t until she turned eleven that she decided to leave with him for little day trips. She had become much too curious about the boy’s life. Where he lived, what he did for fun, where his income came from. It was all too much for her to simply let slide. And everything seemed to be going great, it was the most fun she had had in years, finally venturing from her house in which she had felt trapped in. She had only stayed in there for so long since she didn’t feel there was any point to go out otherwise, but this boy had given her a purpose; and she was greatly thankful for it. Though as all good things come to an end, approximately six months after their journeys, Arlo began seeing her less and less. This struck fear into her mind that she may have done something wrong to upset him or drive him away. Every time she had asked him, he refused to admit to her what was wrong, or what had happened. Her curiosity got the best of her and she decided that if he wouldn’t tell her what was going on, she was just going to go out and search for him herself to find out what he was up to. And that’s exactly what she did.

After a few days travel with a check in at home to sleep, she finally found him and too much of her relief it wasn’t anything that she had done that drove him away. Her relief was quickly withdrawn as she became aware that he wasn’t acting his usual self. She was well educated on the concept of drugs thanks to her parents, and she realized that he was on a high. Her feelings felt conflicted. She was extremely happy that she was with him once again, but completely terrified as to what he had gotten himself into. After much hugging, and a very slow but steady reach to a much more calm and comprehensive manner, she took his words into consideration. He told her that they were nothing to be afraid of, that he wasn’t addicted, and that they were nothing but pills to make life more enjoyable. At first she took his words rather sourly, almost envying the drugs, disgusted by the fact that mere pills could have replaced her spot within his life, but after some consideration decided asking if she could try one. Not for her own sake, but she hoped that perhaps if she was willing to do the same things he was, he might come see her more often again. This of course happened to be one of the biggest mistakes of her life.

Her body took to the drug in one of the worst ways possible, giving her an insane migraine, blurring her vision, and giving her skin an intense rash. She screamed claiming that her vision was impaired, however since Arlo had given her a hallucinogen, he stated that it was all part of the experience. It calmed her for a moment, until the reaction became more physical and Arlo decided to take her home. He left her there, rang the doorbell and made sure her parents took her in.

That was the last time she saw him for months. She had never felt so alone and conflicted in her life. It was the first time for four years that she felt as though Arlo wasn’t actually there anymore, and she was frightened to go back out to find him. This was around the time she took up hacking. Her family had a computer, and she felt that it would be something complicated enough to help distract her from the boy who had caught her eye.

She was a natural at it, gather all the information about computers that she could from the local library, eventually expanding her horizons with well hidden pages on the internet. Her interest could only be satiated for so long before she decided she had to go out again, and at least let Arlo know that there were no hard feelings between the two of them. She launched her journey once more to find him. After looking in all of the usual spots she thought she’d find him she started gathering information from people around the city, attempting to find where he might be. All information seemed to lead to Limbo, a supposed club where the six different gangs could all meet up. Perhaps he was putting in some thought into joining one? Either way, she went to check it out.

Sure enough, Arlo was there. She couldn’t have been happier. She greeted him with a run and a jump-hug, attempting to cheer up his clearly guilty face. She stated the purpose she was there and that she wanted to still see him. There was only one word to describe his face after that. Ecstatic.

Finally her life seemed to be getting back in order, the duo closer than ever, making frequent visits to the club, filling their wild hearts with thrill and wonderment. It felt like there was no pressure there, nothing was expected of anyone, a place where you could be yourself. Their visits lasted there until she reached the age of fifteen where the two of them decided to join the Cyber Punk gang. It was both the easiest to get into, and also the one that suited the best of both of their interests. It was the most “fun” group with its intensive partying, as well as the one which seemed to be the most in tune with technology, utilizing Viktoria’s hacking skills.

Most people didn’t realize it, as Viktoria kept it well hidden, but she was quite the romantic. The closer they grew, the wilder Viktoria’s fantasies started to become, realizing that he might just be the boy that she hoped she always had. Even when they had first met, she hoped that he was the one. There was just something special about him. And as the two of them continued to display their emotions for each other, most of which were Viktoria, the two of them started to date. Of course this could have been considered the happiest moment of Viktoria’s life, if Arlo hadn’t asked her to marry him. Viktoria melted and vowed her life to him. There was nothing more that she had wanted than that.

Currently the two live in the slums with the rest of the gang, holding their ranks against the odds of their past.

T H E M E . S O N G :;

× The Love We Shared - Kill Paris

A N Y T H I N G . E L S E ? :;

× She covers her left eye with an eye patch
She has been deemed to be one of the best hackers in Cyberpunk
Using her hacking skills, she’s become one of the main sources of income for the Cyber punks.

[iva wolf]

Excuse me if it looks as if I didn't put too much effort in his history. It's simply so because it's a bit cliche -_-"

× C Y B E R P U N K .

× >>Zeru<< x

>>18 years old<<
>>male<<
>>Raver<<
>>Heterosexual<<
>>Single<<
>>Lively ^^ Short-tempered vv Loyal<<

N A M E :;

× Kimiko Zeru

A G E :;

× 18 years old

G E N D E R :;

× male

P E R S O N A L I T Y :;

× Being born into a family where one of the parents was of Japanese origin, it was no surprise when the boy was given a Japanese name. However, Kimiko has grown to dislike his first name, due to the fact that it sounds quite girly. It was the reason for most of the teasing in the beginning of his life at the slums, but with his hot-tempered attitude and fighting spirit, he managed to persuade or convince anyone he has ever met to call him Zeru. In order to avoid further mockery, he only introduces himself as such and rarely reveals his personal calling. If you ever ask, be sure that he will cause a ruckus, even beat you up just because you ever said the question.
Personality-wise, this youngster is quite the short-fused person, being easily annoyed and irritated, often making an elephant out of a fly. With a loud demanding voice and pride stretching as high as the moon, he is confident in himself in every sort of situation and never doubts what he believes is right. Even when the thought of being wrong passed through his mind, it is coldly shoved away, down into the abyss which is his soul. He is spontaneous at times and, although he does his best to keep himself calm, the lad usually jumps head first in anything that appears like action. Having a strong love and a strong hate, this individual is quick to judge and believes in those he treasures as 'family'.
When not provoked into causing trouble for everyone else, Zeru is a lively cheerful person. Never regretting or sulking over the past, he looks at the now with a grin and hopeful eyes, not caring at all what will happen in the future. This life style of completely ignoring what is behind and what is way in front of him has done him both good and bad. It prevents him from anticipating others' motives, but also protects him from depression and madness. Another thing which has caused him unluckiness is his appearance. This 18-year old is 163 cm tall, with brownish short messy hair that has red here and there and bright hazel eyes. Needless to say, it was hard to take him seriously, considering his size. Fortunately, he's managed to get a better reputation, as the guy who makes your ears scream and your head bleed.
Concerning his opinion on the gang, this lad feels at home. Truth be told, he does have a better place he could stay than the rundown slums, yet he outright states that where his comrades are, so is he. Despite having a great amount of pride, Zeru's loyalty beats it 1:10. Regardless of the order, if it means protecting the members or the honor of the Cyberpunks, he'll do anything. That and completely forgetting his own safety has lead to one or two unfortunate incidents, but the little luck he has gets him out without fatal or severe injuries.
Overall, if you're from his gang and don't intend to mock him, Zeru is great company. He looks out for his friends and offers his help when needed. All for one and one for all!

H I S T O R Y :;

× People have often said that those below the age of 20 years barely have any history behind their backs, since life, with all its hardships and obstacles, is just beginning. For many of the children of the slums, such is not the case. They suffer and fight many battles for the sake of survival, sometimes forgetting the reason for their own existence. Such is the sad fate of those born in a lowly environment, to be crushed and forced to stand with a body of a thousand scars. As dramatic as that sounds, Kimiko Zeru had no such problems whatsoever.
This child was born in the wealthy family of a man and woman who owned one of the leading companies in the technological sector in development of communication, gaming and calculating devises and programs. Due to their busy jobs as the leaders of a complicated organization, the boy couldn't spend much time with his parents at home. In order to compensate for this inability, both regularly took him along wherever they went. Of course, it was quite the hassle to bring a 3-year-old to a conference center, but Zeru wasn't as uncontrollable as he is now. He was a calm quiet cute little kid, with big puppy eyes that made all the women melt. It wasn't rare for him to be left to the care of a secretary or worker who was available, but he never seemed to mind. In fact, it was a sort of freedom. As he grew, the lad almost never stayed at home. From school, he would head directly for headquarters, where he would leave his things and go about the city, with all its flashy lights, advertisements and sounds. The most interesting part for him had always been the social life. But as he passed the naive childish phase and entered his teens, the youngster slowly began to see how monochrome the boulevards actually were. Despite all the colours and cheerful music, the people there were either dead inside or had little to no interest in playing games. It was odd to him at first, but he continued his daily life, while being suspicious of the ones around him. Still, nothing seemed to make him waver from his daily routine, until he entered junior-high school.
During that period his personality drastically changed from an obedient watchful child to a loud outgoing adventurous person. Soon enough he also became rebellious, but that behavior was also stimulated from his father's death after a 'mysterious illness'. It was obvious to both Kimiko and his mother that the man had been poisoned in hopes of someone else gaining the head seat of the company. Yet the wife was confident and strict, standing her ground firmly and not allowing men with assumed authority to shake her balance. She lead the company on her own and managed just fine, yet her restrain over her son loosened and she spent less time in interacting with him, which inevitably lead to quarrels between the two of them and gradually severed their ties. While he was without any leash whatsoever, the already 15-year-old learned of the truth behind the so called "Obnoxious Terrorists''. That was one of the various nicknames given to the punks who lived in the Slums. In the past, he was scared of him, for bedstories told of how ruthless and vicious they were and the news often spoke of their latest actions against humanity. However, while the rest of his peers and superiors saw those gangs as scourge, in Zeru's eyes they were the key to freedom. No more restrictions to when or where to go, no more forbidden items, no more citizen code. Anyone could do whatever they wanted. This idea was stuck in his head and, without hesitating one bit, a trait passed to him by his mother, he leaped into that world.
When he arrived at Limbo, he didn't stand out so much. It was due to his preparations beforehand, since he knew that if he were to enter with some 'proper' clothing, he would most likely be considered as some goodie two-shoes. Thus we went with only a hoodie, shorts, sneakers and a drawstring backpack. The club was loud and wild, just the kind of atmosphere he was looking for. What caught the lad's gaze was the group of strange individuals, each with some modification like a piercing, tattoos of eyes and crazy hairstyle. Instantly attracted by the bizarre, it was also not difficult to mix with them, since he could talk about various topics, mostly games and music though. The people to whom he met and talked to were members of Cyberpunk. They took him in kind of as a joke and lead him to their territory. Streets teaming with life and people dressed like colourful online-game-like characters were a part of the sight which took the youngster's breath away. In the beginning, members laughed and teased him because of his name and height, but soon enough learned not to mess with his nerves. The smaller you are the louder you bark and barking can easily drive anyone insane. Along with the barking, Zeru could bite and his usually includes a crowbar and a kick in a rather vital spot.
This wild raving until dawn and not coming home or studying was, as expected, not approved by his mother. She attempted to hold her son back, even ordered guards around him, but he managed to escape them every time. Every time he came home there was an argument, thus he began lowering the number of times he returned a month until he barely entered the front door. He didn't dare show his face at headquarters either. It was simply a disgrace, not to his family, but to his gang. After a year of quarreling, the two barking small dogs came to an agreement and Zeru was allowed to live freely, in hopes of his mentality to return soon after he got fed up of the lose life. So far, such has not happened.

T H E M E . S O N G :;

× "Worldless" by I will never be the same
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SceFzXOOVBI

A N Y T H I N G . E L S E ? :;

x Zeru's favorite weapon is the crowbar
x He is exactly 163 cm tall, which is one of the reasons for his short-temper and annoyance with anyone who even hints he's girly because of his height.
x He hasn't had a single girlfriend in his life, but says he doesn't want one, since it's too bothersome (of course that's not true XD)
x Has brownish short messy hair, with red here and there, and bright hazel eyes.
x His usual attire consists of a black hoodie with two green arrows, one on each sleeve, pointing upwards. On the hood itself there is a picture of an eye with all sorts of colours in the iris. He also wears black shorts with small orange squares on the left leg, a silver chain hanging around his right one. He wears black sneakers with one golden line on each side, but the laces on the right leg are orange while the ones on the left are green.
x He has a hoverboard which is black with blue stars, orange squares, green arrows and yellow curving lines all randomly painted on it. There is also an eye, just like that on his hood, drawn on the flip-side of the board. The anti-gravity little balls, which are on the same side as the eye, shine in silver light.
x Zeru returns to his parents' apartment from time to time, but strives to avoid it, since it's located near the center of the city, the sort of place his gang avoids. Still, he can't just abandon his mother, who was left alone after he went to live at the Slums.
x Technically speaking, Kimiko Zeru is the heir to the FGC Company [Free Games and Communication], thus he does know a thing or two about business and his data base on gaming and communication devises is huge. He did finish high-school decently, but he refused to continue his education, because he wants to live fully with the Cyberpunks.

[Fatal Star Syndrome]

(( Deleting Elysia from the character roster, in favor of a new one. ))

[SgtMobuto]

× E L F P U N K .

× >> A D E L I N E. S A Y L N.<<

Appears early 20's
Female
Leader
Bi-sexual
Single
Friendly, approachable, apologetic

N A M E :;

× Adeline Sayln

A G E :;

× Appears to be early 20's

G E N D E R :;

× Female

P E R S O N A L I T Y :;

× Very friendly, almost to a fault
× If she does offend someone, she becomes very apologetic
× She suffers from anxiety attacks every so often
× Takes Fluff routinely, more akin to prescribed medication rather than a drug addict
× She claims that her hobby is helping people, though some of the denizens of Limbo claim she enjoys Fluff a bit too much
× She likes trees and flowers, but gets somewhat depressed when reminded of how few of them there are in the city

H I S T O R Y :;

× Nobody really knows anything about Adeline, or any other members of "Elfpunk" as they're known. Asking the dealers and bartenders of Limbo would elicit nothing more than a shrug. The younger party-goers couldn't care less; all they know is she's been there longer than they have. Asking Adeline herself would only result in her saying "I can't tell you that!" with her trademark smile. Even the most seasoned patrons could only tell you various versions of the same story; she came into Limbo one night and made some sort of deal with "Mad Maddy", the leader of Biopunk.

Rumors of the agreement's details are rampant in the back corners of Limbo. Some of the "crazier than crazy" people hold onto the belief that Adeline and her fellow "fairies" are really aliens from outer space, using Biopunk as a means to invade the domes. This particular murmur has been rebuked on various occasions by Adeline herself, who claims "Yep! We're people just like you!". More level-headed people speculate that the relative closeness that she enjoys with Maddock is due to Elfpunk being but an offshoot of Biopunk, and that Adeline is yet another of Maddock's consorts. There exists a theory though, a theory that most people agree is the closest one to the truth, one that claims Adeline and Maddock's agreement is akin to a "security firm" where Elfpunk is giving Biopunk DNA samples in exchange for protection from the other gangs.

Understandably few people try to uncover the details behind their agreement, lest they become yet another target for the raptor's jaws. Yet the theory is supported by what few facts that have been scrounged up. Firstly, the members of Elfpunk have never been observed engaging in direct violence or conflict with any of the other gangs, Biopunk included. This would seem to indicate that the fairies either hold no interest in physical fighting or abhor the very concept of conflict. Second, and yet another source of rumours, is the lack of a known base of operations. More than a few people have tried to follow Adeline and her kind once they leave Limbo, yet every one have been beaten by members of Biopunk, some worse than others.

Because of this, the other gangs seem willing to leave Elfpunk be, though they weren't very threatening to begin with. Most visitors to Limbo are willing to leave these mysterious fairies as they are, others finding most of them very approachable in conversation, some even becoming allured by their almost impossible appearance into attempting flirtatious acts, though these attempts are usually the result of excessive consumption of some substance or simply having never seen an Elfpunk before.

T H E M E . S O N G :;

× Alphabeat: Fascination

A N Y T H I N G . E L S E ? :;

× While she does appear and act child-like more often than not, it seems to be to her benefit as Adeline has been able to miraculously negotiate with some of the more violent individuals within Limbo, most notably "Mad Maddy". Her ability to manage these tenuous relationships has earned her the position of Elfpunk's leader.