ᵈᵘˢᵗ • ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃˢˢ ʳᵖ • ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ

For roleplays featuring human or human-like characters which are based on a book/movie/tv show/band e.g. Twilight, Harry Potter, Hunger Games, One Direction etc.
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Re: ᵈᵘˢᵗ • ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃˢˢ ʳᵖ • ᵒᵖᵉᶰ

Postby eden . » Thu Aug 23, 2012 1:44 pm

      @Lixi: actually, you posted a wip form first, so technically you asked first, although you didn't really reserve.
      if you two are so anxious, then I suppose both of you could work on your forms at the same time, and I wouldn't give either of you reservations [although iggy would be the only one eligible, since they're part of the club].
      there are no more spots to be opened up! there's only the 1 spot left. xD

      @silversky: actually, I noticed this when I went to update the front: did you have an alliance on your form? I didn't see one ><
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Re: ᵈᵘˢᵗ • ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃˢˢ ʳᵖ • ᵒᵖᵉᶰ

Postby Lixi » Thu Aug 23, 2012 1:49 pm

[ Oh, alright then. XD -confused- I'll just finish my form, then?

Oh, for that I meant if someone like, left the RP or something... XD ]
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Re: ᵈᵘˢᵗ • ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃˢˢ ʳᵖ • ᵒᵖᵉᶰ

Postby eden . » Thu Aug 23, 2012 1:52 pm

      @lixi: yup, just finish up your form and I'll see if it's acceptable! ^^

      **added in a weather / date page just to see how that would work out. I think I might take out the time part of it. I don't think I'll be updating that, since time is kind of up in the air for these kinds of things ... ?
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Re: ᵈᵘˢᵗ • ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃˢˢ ʳᵖ • ᵒᵖᵉᶰ

Postby SauteedSquidBrains » Thu Aug 23, 2012 2:01 pm

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))Capricious((

Elva Rose Smith


Name
"No one calls me Elva anymore. It's Capricious, got it? Caprice if you like. Cat, if you've a really short attention span."

Age
"15. Not what I look like, is it?"
Caprice is just barely 15. However, due to her build and acting abilities, people are often surprised at her age.

Gender
"Female."

Class
"My family was in the magisterium."
Caprice has not returned to her family or friends since her Daemon cut away, preferring to stay away from her former life.

Alliance
"Yeah, I'm with the g.o.b. Never said I liked it. But they've got my Pan, and it's the only way I'm getting him back, isn't it?"
Caprice is allied with the g.o.b. She doesn't like it at all, and would most likely switch sides if an alternate way to get her daemon back was preposed.

Appearance
"Me? Oh, I look fine, I guess. One more way to fool you."
Caprice has coffee colored skin, dark, wavy hair, and rather wiry build. She is about average height and size, with large hands and feet, both of which are crisscrossed with faint scars from scratches and carelessness. Her eyes are dark brown, and her hair is often unruly and wild, as she leaves it down most of the time. All in all, Caprice is fairly easy to overlook on average. No great beauty, but pretty enough. Her usual clothes consist of black leggings and a light brown, shortsleeved tunic, both of which are dusty and a bit beat up but still in fair condition, and help her blend into a crowd. While her usual appearence is fairly nondescript, she is very good at altering her appearence to look older or younger. With the right clothes and makeup, she can look a year or two younger, or several years older, although she rarely bothers. Caprice often carries various small animals in an attempt to keep the causal observer from noticing her lack of a daemon. Her usual animals are mice, or sometime fledgling birds.

Personality
"There's a reason I call myself Capricious."
Capricious is flighty and bitter. While she was once a daring, fun loving, and flirty girl, her main focus in life now is getting her daemon back. She will do anything to achieve this, including betraying her friends and breaking every promise she's ever made. While her former self shows through occasionally, and indeed, she uses it as a mask when needed, Caprice is essentually self-serving by her own design. She is determined never to get close to another person again, not until she's recovered Pan. How well this plan will go is yet to be seen, as, once upon a time, Capricious loved nothing more then sitting down and pouring her heart out to her best friends. She does her best to hide behind the mask of a bright and reckless street rat girl with a tendency for sarcasm, tucking her wilder emotions behind this veil. However, despite being an excellent actor and very good at lying, some of her wilder mood swings have a tendency to shatter this illusion, often allienating those who can't understand why this cheerful and seemingly shallow girl just snapped and started hurling objects, or burst into tears over some seemingly small slight. While this is rather hypocratical, Caprice values nothing more in a person then honesty, and admires those who speak their minds.

History
"I used to be a magisterium girl. They didn't expect me to do much. Nice, quiet life. Problem was, I didn't like quiet."
Capricious, then known as Elva, grew up in the magisterium. Her family was of the more materlistic sort, following the church and upholding their rules more for personal gain then anything else. They were quite well off. Despite their comfortable home and good relations with those of higher status, and her parent's objections, however, Caprice shared none of her family's interest in social climbing or upholding the rules, preferring instead to run wild with the servant's children and gyptians. After all, they didn't need her help in the family, and she loved the freedom of the streets, especially when she could return to her comfortable home and bed when she wanted. This frusterated her family beyond belief, as she showed absolutely no interest in continuing in their footsteps, or even in becoming a devoted member of the church. She continued in this way for years, with a foot in what she considered the best of two worlds. She probably would have eventually settled down into the life laid out for her, until a large argument with her mother caused her to run away from home. She been out on the streets, for real this time, for less then a week, and considering giving up and returning home when the g.o.b captured her and her daemon. After being released to hunt more children like herself, she returned to the streets where she used to run wild with the intention of finding the gang of escapees and presenting herself as a hater of the g.o.b in hopes of earning their trust.

Skills
"I'm good at a few things, I guess."
Caprice learned to read at a young age, and is a very fast reader, although she tends to skip words and even whole sentences as she skims. She is less adept at math, and is slow with even the simplest problems. She is a fast runner, but quickly becomes winded. Capricious is a good climber and can scale nearly anything with foot or handholds, so long as she does not have to rely solely on arm strength.

-"Pan"-
"Soulmates."
Like Capricious, the name Pan goes by is not his origional. Leo was his first name, although he has been going by Pan-short for Pandemonium-since before Elva decided she wanted to be called Capricious. He was her partner in crime, her motivator, the only one she never lied to. He was even her voice of reason, in a way, tempering the wildest and most reckless plans into things that were actually possible. Pan is far more observant then his partner, often alerting her of danger. He is also more reliable and honest then Caprice, less likely to lie for the sake of it. Without him, she is much easier to lure into traps and much more prone to forget something obvious and end up in trouble. Together, they were reckless, pratically unstoppable in any mischief-making plans they made, and often the life of the party. Pandemonium was very close to settling when they were separated-his preferred form being a raccoon, although he sometimes takes the guise of a falcon or a moth.

(Whoops, just realized there's no more openings for servant class. 'Scuse me, I'll go edit that...(There's still an opening for the magisterium, right?)) (done!)
Last edited by SauteedSquidBrains on Thu Aug 23, 2012 2:23 pm, edited 1 time in total.
I am an ancient relic from a forgotten time.


When will you rise?


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Re: ᵈᵘˢᵗ • ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃˢˢ ʳᵖ • ᵒᵖᵉᶰ

Postby eden . » Thu Aug 23, 2012 2:20 pm

      woops, there goes the last spot then ... @squid: yes, magisterium is open. you're accepted because you history says that, and I'm assuming you just forgot to change the rank ...? I'll add you now.

      woops, sorry everyone that was making forms. that was the last slot open! ><
      well, we'll start tonight or later tomorrow. school is slowly killing me.
      slo-oo-oo-oo-oowly
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Re: ᵈᵘˢᵗ • ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃˢˢ ʳᵖ • ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ

Postby saorsa- » Thu Aug 23, 2012 10:14 pm

{ Whoops, I forgot to add a section for that, my bad! She's in the gang. }

{ All finished! c: }

{ Lol, I think I had more fun developing Mink's character than I did developing Emm's. xD }
“𝒯𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓅𝑒𝑜𝓅𝓁𝑒 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝓁𝑜𝑜𝓀 𝒶𝓉 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓌𝒾𝓈𝒽, 𝑅𝒽𝓎𝓈."

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“𝒯𝑜 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝓈𝓉𝒶𝓇𝓈 𝓌𝒽𝑜 𝓁𝒾𝓈𝓉𝑒𝓃— 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝓉𝒽𝑒 𝒹𝓇𝑒𝒶𝓂𝓈 𝓉𝒽𝒶𝓉 𝒶𝓇𝑒 𝒶𝓃𝓈𝓌𝑒𝓇𝑒𝒹.”
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Re: ᵈᵘˢᵗ • ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃˢˢ ʳᵖ • ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ

Postby eden . » Fri Aug 24, 2012 1:55 pm

      >> sorry for the wait, guys! let's start. ^^
      >> feel free to take some liberties on the way the hideout looks. c:

    corαlιɴe ғorвeѕ
    ___________________________________________________________________________________________________________
тweɴтy | ғeмαle | ѕιɴɢle | ѕecoɴd-ιɴ-coммαɴd | ɢ.o.в. | cнrιѕтopнer (ѕepαrαтed)


      Coraline jolted awake. The chilled morning air drifted into the pitiful makeshift den she had made up for herself, the sides basically two large boxes pushed together to create a larger one where she was able to curl up (curl, mind you, not extend to her full length), the places were the mouths of the boxes met open a little to let in air. She felt stiff, cold, and hungry, but that wasn't the important thing. She would gladly suffer through that forever if she could get rid of this ringing hollowness that echoed through her.

      "Can you hear me?" she whispered to herself. Her voice sounded small, pitiful, almost squeaky inside these boxes. There was no answer, and Coraline had expected none, but she couldn't help deflating a little as the silence pressed on her ears.

      Blinking, her face blank as if she wasn't sure what to do with it, Coraline shifted and moved one of the boxes over.

      The air was crisp and cool, the sun not as harsh as one might think, and already there were a few people hobbling down the street adjacent to their little hideaway. Their new home was more or less an abandoned courtyard in a decrepit home. There was a well that was dried up (although that hadn't stopped some people from trying to test their luck), stables with rotted hay, decaying wooden doors that led to blocked off rooms in the house beyond, and trash. Lots and lots of trash. It seemed to climb up the walls of the courtyard, piling high into the air. When they first came the stench was unbearable. Now, Coraline didn't even notice it. How long had it been? Three days? Two? She rubbed her arm absentmindedly, feeling like a lost child. Who cared how many days it had been?

      She stood and stretched a little, a few of her bones cracking after being curled up for so long, before glancing around to see if she could find Viktor, the leader. She figured it would probably be best to talk with him about something before continuing on with the day, and she hoped she hadn't slept in too long. Coraline really admired his knowledge on things. And if his age registered with Coraline (and it probably didn't), then she certainly didn't show it.
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Re: ᵈᵘˢᵗ • ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃˢˢ ʳᵖ • ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ

Postby Nicolae » Fri Aug 24, 2012 2:17 pm

Viktor
"I know my place, 'cause I was born into it."
_______________________________________________


The cluttered collection of make-shift shelters which formed the small, urban-arboreal hideout of the small troop looked sad in the morning light. It filtered, fittingly blue and cold, through the cracks in the windows and the awning tarps which extended over the gap in what was otherwise solid infrastructure to paint every box, carton and lean-to a frosty shade of silver. Where boxes and turned over mechanical hulls where piled atop one another to form elevated sleeping areas, long and nightmarish shadows were cast; a lazy hand poking out of a cargo box slat left a black claw painted across the opposing wall, and all around it icy blue-gray. Yes. It was sad. Viktor was sure that the feeling he wanted to put to the colors was 'sad'. The boy had woken up forever ago, the sleepy form of Bojana barely stirring as his Daemon, presently a tawny mouse, curled deeply into the dark locks at the top of his head. The eight year old had taken up some sort of watch over the camp, his fingers and nose still red with cold from the journey here and his face as sad and nostalgic as the colors staining the small resting spot.

Of course, he was thinking was all; there was no true guarding going on, no real acuity or depth of the senses this sleepy morning. Instead Viktor just sat facing the street and thought, his small hands folded up and tucked under the collar of his jacket (which was several sizes too large and loose enough for him to prop said collar up with each index finger and pull over his nose, something which he presently did) to keep them warm. This was farther into the plan than he'd necessarily thought they'd get. Not because he doubted himself, of course not; Viktor was aware of his own limitations and capabilities. No, he was not surprised that they'd escape or even that they'd make it across the no-man's land between the facility and Oxford, but he was surprised everyone had survived and that they had not gotten lost and that the night had brought peace. There were no northern hunters with their wolf daemons, nor were there mercenary icebears come to bring them back with the promise of monarchical reward. Things were going so well that he was just about ready to assume that they were all going to die shortly for some reason or another, or at least he would if he was one to assume things at all; such was abstraction far beyond Viktor's capabilities. He was a leader, but he was not a fabricator of that level. No. This was farther into the plan than he'd accounted for, yes, and it had gone far better than he'd predicted because he had assumed that by now there would be no survivors.

He knew a guy. It was a little bit cold to think of it that way, but he knew a guy that could get them a fix; a safe house, passage to some other city, at least buy them time to plan. Somewhere indoors with heat, food and a roof sounded nice, mostly because with all living requirements accounted for he would not have to spare any thought for the other children. Most all of them were significantly older than him, but he still thought of them as if they were younger siblings somehow- albeit in a very distant, neutral way. He was contractually obligated to keep them alive because he had saved their lives. Putting his mind to rest about meeting their basic needs would give Viktor some very well needed alone time to drown in introspect and put together a new resolution. For now, the goal was find allies and get set up; whether here or somewhere more secure didn't matter, but find allies and get set up. Yes. It sounded good.
I had nine lives,
but I lost all of them


and I wasted time when I looked for them

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for now I know things lost are never to be found again

nih-kuh-lie

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Re: ᵈᵘˢᵗ • ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃˢˢ ʳᵖ • ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ

Postby ιяιѕlуα » Sat Aug 25, 2012 10:09 am

    ƨнαʏ тαяʏи яɛɛƨɛ
    · · · · · · · · · · · ·

    fɛмαlɛ · fιfтɛɛи · ɢαиɢ · αямαиd
    · · · · · · · · · · · ·
    {{ тαɢɢɛd: иσвσdʏ
    The brisk chill of morning air nipped at the exposed skin of her face, hands, and forearms. A few puffs of condensation floated away from her lips on the exhale of her breath. She watched as the air which escaped from her lungs vanished away into nothing more than wisps. It was a rather chilly morning, that she could admit, but it was nothing she wasn't accustomed to. She sat curled up on the deep ledge of a window not to far off the ground. If she were to jump, no harm would come to her.

    With a sigh, Shay let her head fall back against the wall. Her eyes closed and no light could seep through her eyelids. When she opened her eyes once more, she blinked as light filtered it's way in. She gazed around the unimposing hideout, pupils flickering from one blur of a box to another. Admittedly her vision was foggy, more so then she'd care to mention. And she could not for the life of her find her spectacles. Last she'd had them, they were sitting atop her head. Now they were nowhere to be found. Armand also happened to be missing from her side, and this worried her a bit. At least, until she noticed his form gliding towards her. The beautiful white barn owl dropped her glasses from his talons into her open hands.


    "I see you've managed to snag my spectacles without my knowledge," she muttered as she placed the black-framed glass rectangles atop her nose. Armand perched himself on her leg and turned his large, obsidian eyes to stare at her. To anyone else this might be somewhat disconcerting, but Shay seemed to be on the receiving end of this look at least once a day. "They fell off your head when you were sleeping, I was simply retrieving them for you." Shay snorted as she looked at him with a much improved vision, though still a bit blurry. Her glasses weren't in the best of shape. "I see..." "Said the blind man to his deaf dog." Shay rolled her eyes, and Armand ruffled his feathers.

    She stretched as far as the ledge she was resting on would let her, and that wasn't much.
    "You never did tell me why you decided to sleep up here instead of on the ground anyway." Armand remarked, his own feet touching down on the window ledge. Shay looked across the dilapidated courtyard, swinging her legs so that they hung over the edge of the ledge, before answering.

    "I liked the view."

    She pushed herself away from the window and off the edge, falling through the air for a few seconds before touching back down to earth. She landed on her toes, knees bent like a cat, and fingers just barely brushing the ground. Armand landed next to her, paws touching the ground as he changed into his coyote form. Shay stood, pushing her glasses back up her nose as they had been jostled from their correct spot when she landed. Armand wove himself between her legs before jumping up to her shoulder as a barn owl once more. "I suppose you were right about the view."
    · · · · · · · · · · · ·

    cαƨρɛя cαllσωαʏ
    · · · · · · · · · · · ·

    мαlɛ · иιиɛтɛɛи · ɢ.σ.в. · αlιcɛ
    · · · · · · · · · · · ·
    {{ тαɢɢɛd: иσвσdʏ
    Casper was dreaming. And it was a rather bizarre dream as well. What the dream was about he wasn't truly sure, but he knew it was rather important. He was standing, on what appeared to be, a never ending ocean of white. The ground he was standing atop was almost like fabric. And all around him, were glass bottles. Each of these bottles contained a small slip of paper. Most were unimportant thoughts of others, but there was one he was supposed to be searching for. The only problem was, so were many others.

    There were people all around him, surging through the vast whiteness, scrambling around. They were all yanking bottles out of the fabric-like ground, searching their contents for that one important note. Casper started running about as well, pushed by an unknown source to find that important glass bottle. But Alice was nowhere to be found.


    "Alice?" he called, stopping in his tracks. "Alice where are you?" he yelled. But there was no answer. He merely stood there waiting as he was shoved aside by the frantic people of his dream world.

    Then he woke up.

    Unlike some people, Casper didn't awake with a start. He simply opened his eyes. Which is why he was confused when all he saw was darkness, until he noticed something furry sleeping on his face. Alice was in her fox form, snoring atop Casper's eyes. He shoved her to the ground where she awoke with a sharp hiss. With a small chuckle, he pushed himself into a sitting position, only to find a box above him. Casper was sleeping in something that looked like a rectangular cardboard coffin. He knocked the box above him all the way to the ground, blinking as he looked around the trashed courtyard.


    · · · · · · · · · · · ·

    [ So they're both awake, anyone can talk to them if they wish. Casper won't bite, however, I make no promises about Shay :D ]
Last edited by ιяιѕlуα on Sat Aug 25, 2012 4:17 pm, edited 2 times in total.
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Re: ᵈᵘˢᵗ • ᵍᵒˡᵈᵉᶰ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵃˢˢ ʳᵖ • ᶜˡᵒˢᵉᵈ

Postby Artesian » Sat Aug 25, 2012 1:22 pm

Quiana & Behnam
Gang - Gypsy - Female - Eleven
The girl was curled up in her thick coat, perhaps one of the only children there who was actually warm. It was frigid, the biting air swirling its way into the camp. Her daemon, Behnam, was nestled in the thick wooly interior of the coat in the form of a spider monkey, dozing with his arms wrapped around her neck. They were both dreaming.

Her face, her coffee-coloured skin tinted with red where frostbite had lightly burned her cheeks and nose, squinted up in a memory of pain. She curled up tighter, then, with a small yelp, awoke, blinking her eyes in the morning light. Quiana sat up in from her bed of straw - frankly, about as comfortable as she was used to - and pushed the memories back. After a moment to regain her composure, she'd even forgotten which memory had upset her. There were so many now, and her choice - following Victor and the band instead of rejoining the Gyptians without her family - had promised them more.

"Bad dream?" Behnam crept out her coat and shifted forms, into one of her favourites: a big fluffy sheepdog, with thick white fur and deep brown eyes. She nodded, and he nuzzled her gently.

"You?" she asked, and she felt his answer in the quiver of his shoulders. Yes. As usual. She hugged him tightly for a moment, her eyes flicking around. She noted the sleeping people and those just stirring, the courtyard, the junk and cardboard boxes that made a safe refuge for them. The bluish light made everything look colder than it was, like camping under a glacier in the north. The people themselves looked cold as well, and these people weren't just her friends, they were - she recalled the Gyptian word effortlessly - Kameraden. She needed them. They needed her. Her eyes flicked up to Viktor, perched over near the street, watching it like a guard dog.

She stood and crept through the quiet camp, Behnam padding at her heels. "Viktor?" she asked in a loud whisper, as she drew closer. "Do you think it would be safe to build a little fire? I can do it without much smoke. Everyone is so cold." She sat down next to him, at a respectful distance.

[[Note: The Gyptians use a few Dutch words in their version of English, so I adopted another one. Kameraden is Dutch for Comrades. The singular is Kameraad. I should add, apologies for the shortness. I've got writers block, for the first time in over six months. Cuuuurses.]]
Last edited by Artesian on Sun Aug 26, 2012 5:20 am, edited 2 times in total.
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