Punk's Not Dead.

[king_bear]

in that case...

× . S T E A M P U N K .


:x: :x: :x: :x:

× >>. C L O C K W O R K . .<<

>> Nineteen <<
>> Female <<
>> Inventor : mainly does clocks <<
>> Asexual panromantic <<
>> Single and not crushing <<
>> Determined, focused, intelligent <<

N A M E :;

× Galavan Aileen Kerwin, nicknamed Clockwork or Clocks. Basically, Clocks hates her real name and took the nickname "Clockwork" as soon as she joined Steampunk. She mostly fixes and designs/builds clocks, and they're her favourite item, so it wasn't hard for her to choose a new name.

A G E :;

× Nineteen.

G E N D E R :;

× Female.

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

× Clockwork is a very focused girl, mainly because she needs her concentration when working on one of her clocks. She always tells everyone how fragile these things are and how careful you need to handle them, if you don't want to break them. Her determination to fix clocks and invent and create new ones is so strong she always has her tools around if there's some timepiece that needs to be repaired. She is very frequently to be found in her own workplace, working on a new project or finishing an old one.

H I S T O R Y :;

× Clockwork has lived with her family for as long as she knew, until her parents made the fatal decision to move - to the other side of Tetron. At that moment, Clockwork had a boyfriend and she couldn't move, since they'd never see each other again, because of the huge size of Tetron. Thus, she ran off. And he came with her.

How could she have foreseen he'd leave her instantly for another girl? Her heart was broken and she is not yet ready to give it away again. Anyway, after some simple jobs on repairing small robots and other engines, she decided to join Steampunk for her heart really lied with clocks and other small machines. Thus, she ended up there.

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

× Pentaphobe: Kitten Pig
x Emilie Autumn: Rose Red
x E.S. Posthumus: Nara

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

× Time's running out for Clockwork - literally. She hasn't told anyone yet, but she is suffering from tuberculosis which causes her to faint or collapse sometimes. She also has trouble breathing and coughs up blood when in a smokey area or when out of breath. She refuses to take any medicine because the side effects are horrible.

[Stray Dog]

{(Bit of a bump - would still love more characters, before we start. A Zeus, especially. :3)}

[Clavicle]

[Here’s my second character. After the robust ego that is Sydney, I decided to make somebody more subdued. I didn’t expect his history to spiral into what it is now, but, eh... you can see that my writing style changed here, compared to Sydney’s form. This character’s personality is super vague [unless you can figure out more details from the few descriptions provided], and most of his history is purposefully left out [what is there is open to reader interpretation]. Originally, he was supposed to be super super feminine, but then I started drawing him and he wouldn't comply. >:?

I was actually gonna have his punk name be “Lolita”. Points if you can guess why. uwu~

Also, I hope that Stray doesn’t mind me including a minor NPC God in Mythpunk. The character’s benefactor was gonna be a mystery originally... well, he still is, but he’s got his own thing going on now, haha;;;]


× S P L A T T E R P U N K .

× A S T R A.

20.
Male.
Poet/Musician [violin, flute, piano].
So obsessed with “Astraeus”, that he is basically asexual.
Single [could be considered so]
Careful | Quiet | Cunning

N A M E :;

Devin “Astra” Doe

A G E :;

× Twenty

G E N D E R :;

× Male

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

× Before long, I pitied the lone star.

Devin’s the sad kid, the brilliant, but sad and angry kid, even though he’s twenty — by god, he’s still a kid, somewhere in there.

His history, although he has banished most of it to the darkest parts of his mind, left a mark on him, and he hates it. Even though he knows his way around, and he could still feel the concrete beating against the bare soles of his feet somewhere, somewhere up there, in his dreams... he has become dependent on others [Astraeus, really] and he finds that he is incapable of letting go. He is angry and wracked with bitter jealously, but he is quiet and calculating about it. Astraeus found new stars, and Devin poisoned one’s drink, and slipped a scorpion, acquired illegally, in another’s bed. He goes about things in a crafty way, and he’s got imagination to spare.

Early on, though, he found that he was absolutely horrible at drawing or painting, but halfway decent at composing music, writing poetry, and playing the violin [though his first song was droll and the first year he spent with the violin was painful]. He practiced diligently, and tried out many other instruments, but his love will always remain with the violin. Taking the piano second, he made quick work of it, and picked up the flute last, which took him much longer to get right. He’s goat a real ear for music, and, while he’s playing, he can be found in a deeper part of the library, where he wouldn’t be disturbed. Loneliness is not his usual style, even before he was rescued, where he huddled together in cramped spaces with gross, horrible breaths blowing on his cheeks as they all cowered, or after he spent most of his days lazing around in large, airy, and bright rooms. However, he barely ever speaks to people, though he sits in their company. He needs time to recharge after every social event, and during those times he prefers to lounge somewhere in a quiet [but never dark] place.

Devin believes in many things, and he is easy to convince. His naiveté is one of his biggest setbacks; in a way, he really is still a child. A child longing for affection that he never had, so much that he would forgive a punch if a kiss came after it.

x Don’t make me sad, don’t make me cry,
Sometimes life is not enough, and the road gets tough,
I don’t know why...

H I S T O R Y :;

× However, you promised to always continue watching over me...
You’re the reason to me, don’t forget...

Fingers, cracking knuckles, clumps of hair under his pillow and hole-ridden sheets hanging from the balcony; Devin remembered very little of his childhood years. He remembered praying, because that was what good little boys did. He remembered a weary but smiling face looking down at him every night before he went to sleep, every night until he turned seven. He remembered yelling, keening sobs and muttered phrases, and the constant company of his mother after the first month before his seventh birthday. Empty, broken bottles crunching under the soles of his tattered shoes, dark, emptier closets, and the violent stinging underneath his skin were the last of his memories that he cared to bring to light. He barely even remembered his true name. In the forefront of his mind, there was only one figure: Astraeus.

“I love you.”

He is divine. The name, Devin, given to him by Astraeus on that lonely night means “to shine”. And Devin, worn and faded, barely gives off a spark. Yet, he is considered divine. It warms his heart, to know so, to be assured. He is told every day, every day since his finding that he is the brightest star in the galaxy. The punches, the kicks to the gut, they make his teeth chatter and crack, they make his eyes shift and his body shake, but he loves the man nonetheless.

What else he remembers, what he barely cares to, is his mother letting him out, taking his hand and leading him away. He was nine at the time, a quiet child with no friends, no education, and, supposedly, no future.

Part two

The building that they arrived at was dried, cracked, and folding in on itself, its tired boarding creaking under every step they took as they walked up its twisting stairs. Devin could barely get ahold of all of the details, though there were not many, before they were standing in front of a door which looked completely brand new. Simply from the sight of it his eyes bugged open, and his mouth quirked into a microscopic smile. Daring to loosen his hand from his mother’s hold, he dragged his fingers along the smooth wood in what was barely concealed wonder. Compared to it, the closet he knew and its crude sides, the door felt like the entrance to heaven. What he didn’t know, however, was that heaven was not what was waiting for him behind it.

He remembers the man behind that wondrous door. Bad luck had been written all over him, from his hunched back, to his untied shoelaces threatening to trip him at every step, to his ripped clothes and worn face. His mother had taken his hand back, gripping it so hard he had been sure that his finger bones had turned to dust — but it was nothing that he couldn’t ignore. The man had taken a cursory glance at him, the young boy with a piglet’s nose, and had completely disregarded him in favor of his mother.

“Why’d you havta bring him over to me, woman?”

He was scared.

“Look, you wanted more kids, right? Here’s your kid.”

Devin was pushed into the bright, stuffy room, and as fast as the air that had filled his lungs during the fall, his mother had gone. He would never see her weary, snarling face again after that day. He screamed, but only long after she had left. And when he woke, he realized that his world had gone halfway between dark and light.

“So, kid... how do you like seeing the world through one eye? Got much better concentration, eh?”

His mother! Where was his mother! Where were the glass shards poking into his bruised palms? The closet that he had lived in, the soft wool underneath his back... the stinging beneath his flesh, his mother’s broken sobs. His mother’s hands, the hands that hit, the hands that taunted him. His mother’s eyes, cruel and blue and brilliant eyes, his mother’s smile, his mother’s, his mother....

“Here’s the deal. You scratch our back, we scratch yours...”

Devin ran down the streets, moving from one territory to another, from dark and dreary to bright and blazing, like a quick brown fox. He stopped by any man, any woman and any child, tugging their coattails, blouses and t-shirts, asking for money in a pleading voice. Please ma’am, just a few, he was poor and sickly, and both his parents worked three jobs a day, and...

“Nothing? Again? You useless brat!”

He’d learned to live like that for three years, with a medical patch over his eye and flaky, fake blood on his fingertips and cheeks. The people, not just the man with the hunched back and crazy eyes, that his mother had left him with also housed other kids, kids like him. Stumps of missing arms, holes between teeth and surgical scars littering their bodies... they were the indebted children. Used to beg on the shiny streets of Tektron, they repaid their debt, their parents’ debt, by acting the victim, with their black and blue bodies and tear-streaked faces...

He remembers that it had been absolute hell.

Part three

He stared long and hard at the man across from him, apprehension written across his features. The man might have smiled at him, but Devin wasn’t really sure if he did.

These days, Devin doesn’t care to remember the reason behind his missing eye. The only bright star shining was him, when he met the man he would forever be bonded to. He appeared out of nowhere, Astraeus, like a new constellation born. He took Devin’s hand, led him up on the rooftops during the night, and they watched the heavy moon set side by side. Devin had sat down so far away, yet between the words they shared and the moon that enraptured him, they had gotten so close that he can still remember the coarse fabric brushing against his forearm, and the pleasant heat only two bodies pressed close to each other could generate in the nippy night’s weather.

“Don’t worry, you’re safe now. Do you have a name?”

Devin knows not what happened to the man who’d crossed a black cat’s path, or the assorted children, or the few teens that he used to live with. Astraeus, a man who looked not a day older than twenty, had come out of the blue, and had singlehandedly lifted every single child’s debt. And, for some reason, he had singled out Devin to be his one star, a star that would later form a constellation.

“I think that... Devin will suit you very well.”

Warm smiles, never weary, warm bodies and warm sheets; Devin remembers every moment of his new life. He followed Astraeus’ footsteps like a puppy, never, ever leaving his side. And, by showing his adoration, he was rewarded with attention and love. Affection, which would turn tough sometimes, adoration, cracking knuckles and bruised lips. Sometimes, Devin still feels the phantom sting behind his missing eye.

“Why won’t you look at me anymore?”

Things changed.

“Stop being a needy child, Devin. You’re a punk now.”

x Oh, my heart...
Love is blindness.

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

x Love is Blindness - Jack White
x Born to Die - Lana Del Rey
x Give Me Love - Ed Sheeran
× Kyrie Eleison - Calvi (Feat. Hatsune Miku)

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

× Devin enjoys elaborate, heavy clothing and pays no mind to gender boundaries. He prefers to cover his body completely, except for his legs, which he quite likes despite the numerous bruises.

x He has very sensitive skin and is easily bruised. Sometimes, when he wakes up he counts every single new bruise that he finds on his legs.

x Devin dislikes the dark, and always has a light turned on while he sleeps. He also gets quite panicky in tight, closed up places, and sometimes needs to have a window open in whichever room he sleeps in.

x Devin is super sensitive to a fault. If insulted, he’ll either get really angry and punch someone, or run away to cry alone.

x Aside from the money that he sometimes earns off of his songs and small performances, he is fully dependent on the punks, and Astraeus, who he rarely sees these days, to keep him healthy and cared for.

x He only learned to read and write after meeting Astraeus. His penmanship can still be considered chicken scratch to others, so Devin rarely lets people read his songs or poems due to shame, not because he can’t write them well, but because his writing itself, the uneven letter that he puts down, is horrendous.

x His eyes are a shaded, foresty green, his skin is dark olive, and his hair is a blondish-brown color.

[I just realized that he has a bunch of theme songs, lmao. Well, think of them as mood songs, to make things EVEN MORE melancholic when this guy appears anywhere.]

[Asherwy]

× C Y B E R P U N K .

× K Y O

>>19<<
>>male<<
>>hacker<<
>>straight<<
>>single<<
>>protective insensitive dull<<

N A M E :;

× >>Kyokunonai Karasu<<

A G E :;

× >>19<<

G E N D E R :;

× >>Male<<

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

× >>Unlike other Cyberpunks, Kyo isn't fond of raving and partying, he only does his job for his gang. Kyo is not good with words, and can be very blunt and rude to others without realising. He can be quite overconfident at times, thinking he can do things that others cannot, and puts himself in danger often. He doesn't have that many friends, so he is often independent and misunderstood due to his lack of sociality, but he never leaves anyone to die alone. Kyo is a calm and collected character as well, rarely showing any signs of distress and his dull personality adds to that trait. He tries not to attract much attention from the others, because of his strong emotions which take control over him occasionally if something triggers the lock. He isn't really anti-social, but he just doesn't interact with others that much. Kyo has no problem talking to anyone, it's just his habit to wander off by himself. He is willing to die for others, always saying that it's better to die with someone than die alone.<<

H I S T O R Y :;

× >>Since his name already gave it away, he is from Japan. There isn't much to his history, it's quite boring actually. HIs family moved to Tektron out of the fear of catching the virus, Kyo's parents made him wear a mask wherever they went until they got to the safety of The Dome. Because of his parent's educational background, they joined The Hive, barely giving Kyo any attention after their employment. Furious, he packed his things up and joined Cyberpunk, only hearing of them through his paranoid neighbours. Kyo didn't have any siblings, so he technically had nothing to lose. After he joined Cyberpunk, he put his hacking and technical abilities to use. most of the members weren't happy with his unwillingness to party with them but they eventually accepted Kyo for who he is.<<

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

× >>Complication - ROOKiEZ is PUNK'D<<

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

× >>Eyes are rusty brown, no tattoos<<

[Fatal Star Syndrome]

(( Just a little, "I'm home" post. I'll finish up my last two pieces of history a.s.a.p. and then I'll be good to go~
Thanks for waiting. ))

[iva wolf]

[ Yay! Welcome back, Harlequin! =D Okaeri! ]

[Stray Dog]

{(Probably worth saying that I am also back and, er, also have forms to finish... three of them, in fact. I'll try my best to finish those within the next few days, but, I'm still needing a Zeus before we can start anything, anyway...)}

[lesbian]

I'd love to play Zeus, but I already have one character, am making another and I don't know if this would be okay.

Making a third character I mean.

Sorry, I changed my mind :L

I was thinking and I realized that I don't really know enough about Greek mythology or gods to play his character. Please don't hate me.

I also think I would struggle with three characters...

[iva wolf]

[Bump. -_-"...Do we really need Zeus in order to start this?]

[Fatal Star Syndrome]

(( Personally I would like to wait until we have at least the gang leader for all six.
Maybe if anyone knows people that may be interested in joining, they could send invites for this? :3 ))