Description

Of nimble fingers in velvet-lined pockets.

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They Provide the Paint for the Picture-Perfect Masterpiece that You Will Paint on the Inside of Your Eyelids | Bandits of the Acoustic Revolution

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ＦＵＬＬＮＡＭＥ

Leon Michael Macchia

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Leo {Friends||Liked}

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Male

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Bisexual||Biromantic

In a world of thieves, the only final sin is stupidity.

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6'1"

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160 lbs

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Blonde

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Blue/Lilac

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Sun-kissed.

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Even Leon's appearance tells a tale of a carefree young man. With unruly blonde locks and eyes of a mesmerizing blend of a baby blue and lilac color that are constantly alight with humor, one can tell he spends much of his time grinning. True to this, he has prominent laugh lines that the edges of his mouth, and his lips can always be found quirked into some kind of smile, whether it be a sly smirk or cocky grin.

He is tall, but lean, an aspect of his body that has certainly helped with his profession in his past. His limbs are almost gangly, but not quite, as he has managed somehow to build muscle mass. Even his fingers have managed to be long, in a rather elegant fashion. Perhaps if he had been born into a different life, he may have had a promising career as a concert pianist.

He wears inconspicuous clothing, nothing too noticeable, too tight, or too baggy. Everything just right. He tends to wear a monochromatic color scheme to help blend, be more invisible to the general eye. Even with his height and striking hair, he has miraculously managed to succeed in being mostly unseen, and it's something he attributes to his excellent camouflage skills.

Thieves respect property. They merely wish the property to become their property that they may more perfectly respect it.

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For a man condemned to certain death, he has an unnervingly carefree and joyful persona. Certainly not optimistic, as he can often be heard making cynical quips in the most joyous of tones, but with a lighthearted air that many find strange.

He carries with him a certain charisma, a sort of charm, that's annoying at times and magnetic at others. He speaks when others do not dare, often with a wisecrack, sometimes in inappropriate situations. He thinks himself clever, this much is clear, often makes it his mission to lighten a tense mood. More often than not, he does not succeed.

He is not one to hold his tongue, does not balk in the face of authority. He's found many dogs' barks to be stronger than their bites, and he has lived his whole life in running from persecution at the hands of the law. Laws themselves are not unbreakable to him, merely suggestions to follow for a society to not fall into chaos. But he cannot help but find fault in these laws. They protect people from people of his kind, the thieves and other nasty sorts, when the people they are protecting did nothing to stop him from falling into a life of thievery. Is he truly to blame for being born into a situation he was never to be able to escape from?

Beneath a cheery facade of bitter smiles hide sharp eyes and tense muscles. He is the master of the flight response, always ready to flee from any given situation. He trusts no one, is always prepared to be led into an ambush. For this reason, one can find his eyes darting between objects, perhaps searching for clues of some kind of ploy, perhaps mapping out his escape, perhaps analyzing his companion, perhaps all of these. If one were to place a hand on his shoulder, they would feel the result of his harsh life in the form of stiffened tissue, an obvious eagerness to remove himself from proximity.

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Pocket watches || They're generally the first thing he looks for when pick-pocketing a person. Golden ones fetch a good price, but that's not why he's so interested in them. It's an inexplicable and unbreakable habit, and sometimes, against his better judgement, he'll keep a particularly nice one rather than selling it.
Sweets || As a child, he was never able to indulge any sweet tooth, so as an adult, he's grown to jump at the chance to consume any candies or pastries.
Night || For the obvious reasons of providing a good cover, but also there's something about the darkness and glittering stars above that provide him with a sort of comfort.

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Close Contact || Unless he's the one initiating it to slip his fingers in someone's pocket, Leo isn't a fan of people getting too close. Maybe it's his trust issues, maybe it's plain old discomfort, who knows.
Bitter Foods || He's got a sweet tooth, so this is a bit self explanatory. Anything bittersweet is touch and go.
Enclosed Spaces || Escape routes are very important to him. He needs to have eyes on at least three different ways out at all times.

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Sneaky || In order to make it as a thief, one has to have a touch of subtlety and quiet. If he doesn't want someone to see him, chances are they won't.
Lying || A silver tongue with no comparison. Lies slide from his lips with ease, sometimes even without him realizing it. As a result of his practice, he's mastered the art of telling lies as truth.
Agility and Gymnastics || Parkour, some might call it. Regardless, he's very able when it comes to maneuvering through various obstacles.

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Combat || Thieves are not built for battle, and he certainly prefers to stay out of the fray when it comes to blows.
Trust || Leo has difficulty trusting people, especially since he wouldn't even trust himself.
Compulsive Liar || While he's certainly good at it, it becomes a bit of a problem when he can't quite control it. Lies pour from his mouth impulsively, sometimes for things that do not require a lie, and sometimes without his notice. Occasionally, he'll tell a lie, pause, say "no, that was a lie", and proceed to tell the truth if it's what was needed.

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Pain || He has a rather low threshold for pain, and certainly doesn't handle it well.
Starvation || He's been hungry before, weeks on end, enough to know he'd rather kill himself than starve.

We hang the petty thieves and appoint the great ones to public office.

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None that he knows of.

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His first memory is of begging. Pale grimy hands, trembling, held outward to the world, a silent plea for mercy. And he received none. His second is of praying. To what deity, he knows not, for now he cannot think of any deity he could have ever believed in, but pray he did. Those same bony, skeletal hands, cast upward to the heavens, quiet whispers, begging for salvation. He did not receive.
He does not know where he was born, nor to whom, but he exists, and he finds that is a shame. He learns to resent his mother, whoever she may be, detest his father, though he knows him not.
A poor orphan on the streets with no home to call his own, he learns to survive. When his tearful eyes cease to bring in pennies enough to eat, he resorts to stealing. And he finds it exhilarating. But one does not become a thief alone, not on the streets he was raised. The older urchins, they take him in, and somehow, it is the first real family he has ever had. But the small congregation of petty thieves is far from a family, and he sees this firsthand in the betrayals that come to pass every day. Strangely, he is not surprised, nor does he feel hurt. In a harsh world of cobblestone and stealing, one can only survive by caring for their hide and their hide only.
But he finds a friend in another young boy his age, a similar story to his. They share trinkets sometimes. He gives Leo a dingy pocket watch that would not be worth much, Leo returns the favor with a silver necklace that is far too tarnished to even buy a meal. He does not betray him, but perhaps it is only because he is caught before he can. Leo attends the execution, raises a hand to his cheek, but it comes away dry. He knows it is only a matter of time before this is his fate also. He throws the pocket watch into the gutter.
It happens because of a pocket watch. It is golden, dingy, but he swears he can see brown locks and brown eyes reflected in its surface. It looks exactly like the one he threw away, the one he's spent months trying to replace. He immediately reaches for it. But his eagerness gets a hold of him, makes his fingers tremble, and suddenly there is a crushing grip encircling his wrist, vicious eyes glaring hard into his. Leo can only smile. He was right. It was only a matter of time.

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FC || Yogi || Karneval

ⒸⓄⓅⓎⓇⒾⒼⒽⓉ ⓌⒶⓇⓃⒾⓃⒼ
Character Sheet by © Masquerade (Skye)

So begins...

Leon Macchia's Story

Seen 5 Times • Page 1 of 1

Setting

The Outlands

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#2015-03-15 05:27:32, as written by Masquerade (Skye)

These last few days had been rather busy for Echo, she had gone from living in a closet sized room to being enclosed in a space bigger than she knew what to do with; been tried and found guilty for existing, and was now on some sort of large metal moving thing that zipped across the country at one hundred miles an hour to take them to the Outlands. The metal tin was silver on the outside, the inside seats a plush blue. The little thing was busy bouncing around, sometimes crawling under chairs and other times standing on top of a seat to look out the window. They had not bothered to hand cuff Echo as she currently did not pose any threat to them. Unlike the adults who could cause tons of damage. The two guards seemed to enjoy watching Echo's antics until the big metal tin came to a screeching stop on the rails and she almost went flying off of the seat, then one of them yelled at her to sit down.

She crossed the space, grumbling and sitting beside her creator, Alastair. Echo fiddled with the buttons on her new jacket, suddenly bored now that she had to sit down. A loud noise rumbled outside, possibly thunder that was close by, and caused the girl to scream. She had never heard such a noise and it was far too loud for her sensitive senses. Echo ducked under the seat, plugging her ears with her fingers in order to block out the sound. She glanced down at her new boots, still not used to the sensation of shoes on her feet. The girl had been outfitted for their expedition to the outside. The government wasn't merciless, they gave banished citizens the tools they would need to survive for at least a week but after that they were on their own.

So Echo had gotten new shoes and a set of clothing that wasn't an over sized tee shirt. She was currently adorned in a pair of pants, brown boots, a long sleeved shirt and a fuzzy pink coat with bunny ears that were sewn onto the hood. The backpack she was supposed to take was sitting on the seat, an ugly brown satchel filled with protein bars, water, and food that could be heated with nothing more than air. To Echo it was like magic as she did not understand the concepts of science and chemical reactions. "Are we almost there?" The girl poked her head out from under the seat to question Alastair although she doubted he had the answer. Normally Alastair knew everything but these past few days she had hardly gotten to see the man and when she had he didn't hold any of the keys to her questions. "Echo does not like this noise," another round of thunder made her scream and she plugged her fingers in her ears once more.

Finally the train stopped and the guards stood, stretching from sitting hunched over for so long and informing the prisoners to stand. Echo grabbed her bag, shrugging the too big satchel over her shoulder. The short girl was forced to drag it and stumbled over the pack twice before reaching the door. She was raring to get off of this train and taste freedom. For years Echo had lived in a crate with hardly any room to stretch but now she was finally going to see the outside! She glanced nervously between the guards and Alastair. There were several others on the machine with them, but Echo had avoided them. One was particularly scary looking lady with red hair and eyes that held an expression of contempt. The others consisted of a blonde who did not seem bothered by any of this, and a girl with the most exotic looking eyes Echo had ever seen.

An oxygen tank was threaded through her belt. Echo put the mask on her head, but had no idea what to do after that. One of the guards sighed and knelt down to adjust it, bringing the piece over her mouth and nose. It was uncomfortable and so the girl pulled it down so it was hanging like a necklace. "Welcome to the Outlands," one of the peace keepers moved out of the way as the door opened, revealing a barren wasteland with crippled buildings in the distance. The ground was dry and scorched of any grass, cracks in the earth informing them that water had not passed through this unrevitalized area in quite some time. At the sight of this world, Echo drew back. This was not the beautiful place she had imagined; the trees were dead and withering, the oxygen so thin it was making her head spin. She turned back, going to where Alastair was and grabbing onto his pant leg as if that would provide her protection. "Echo wants to go back." She whispered as the guards prodded them forward, one stood by the door, the other turning on some sort of stick so that it buzzed with electricity.

"Alright, everybody off!"

Setting

The Outlands

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#2015-03-15 15:35:19, as written by moahi

Surprising what people do in court. He had calmly went through all the trials, being very interested in them, in fact. Add that as a bit of knowledge to his book. It was fun to see how the lawyers reacted toward such a hard case. The one where they convicted Echo was fascinating, as they threw the topic back and forth. They were so puzzled over her case it was hilarious. It was probably the first time they had encountered such a odd case before, and it was definitely worth seeing. They were speeding to what would be their prison in a silver tin, speeding toward the Outlands. He was extremely impressed by how technology had advanced so quickly, while he is skilled in the various science topics, he wasn't so good at making gadgets and wires come to life. Alastair leaned back in his blue seat in a relaxed pose, one handcuffed hand propping his head up as he calmly watched Echo in her antics. Running around and crawling under chairs, how his experiment had turned out amused him greatly. He was expecting something without a mind or voice, not even a personality. What he got however, was something he wouldn't consider a complete success, but good nonetheless. Sometimes science didn't even adhere to its own rules.

Then, the vehicle came to a screeching stop, and he lurched forward in his chair, reaching one hand out instinctively to stop Echo from falling before noticing that she wasn't beside him anymore. Thankfully, she was relatively unscathed as he regarded her critically from his side of the tin when she crossed over to sit next to him again. He would get extremely upset if his precious doll was dented in some way. She seemed to be the one he had to work with, at least for the time being that he couldn't make more subjects. "Are you hurt?" He queried, in case he missed something out, when thunder rumbled in the distance as she crawled under the chair, screaming. A small know formed between his eyebrows. Of course, he had not thought about the fact that she had to get used to the environment outside yet, so she would be as sensitive as a newborn child would be to this world, sensing most things for the first time. It was something he never considered before, assuming that he would keep her in the lab for the most part.

He looked at his own outfit subconsciously when he saw Echo regard hers, looking down at the sterile white with some satisfaction. He had successfully persuaded them to let him keep his lab coat, so he was dressed in all white, the coat flapping at his knees. He wore a pair of white jeans as well, along with a pair of sneakers. Old habits die hard, and he was still used to being clothed in white most of the time. He was probably easily recognizable, the white on his body and even his hair could be spotted from a distance away, but frankly he could care less. It gave him a sense of peace really, when he still felt that he was in the lab and ready to work. He could do nothing about the satchel though, one filled with food and proteins that would react chemically with air. There were some chemical reactions which caused burning when in contact with air, such as the concept the reaction hydrogen had with oxygen. He accidentally set the lab on fire by making an balloon filled with hydrogen explode in the air, but he had never tried to cook food with them. How science has progressed.

"Are we almost there?" He was snapped out of his musings momentarily when Echo asked him that, poking her head out from under the chair. "I... Don't know." It irked him greatly that he had to admit to that fact, but the happenings recently have been completely out of his grasp. It was irritating, but a good experience to learn nevertheless. "Echo does not like this noise." "I. I do not like this noise." He corrected her patiently while studying the other occupants of the transport vehicle. He wasn't able to study them for as long as he liked however, as the vehicle came to a stop and the guards stood up to lead them out into the wasteland. He was given an oxygen tank, which he threaded through his belt with a sigh, pulling the mask over his nose and mouth. It wasn't so different from the surgical masks, so he was more used to it.The place was much worse than he expected however, with the cracked ground and withered trees. Yet again, he didn't have high hopes from what he'd heard of that place either.

"I. It's I want to go back." Despite the fact that the situation they were in was a rather dire one, Alastair didn't hesitate to correct his subject yet again as she gripped his pant leg. At least she was adapting pretty well to the lack of oxygen the their climate, so the improved lung capacity must had some effect on her ability to survive. It was his silent victory.

Setting

The Outlands

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#2015-03-22 02:41:10, as written by Verix

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And it's only in my solitude that I remember what it was like to live.
Dialogue Color❖#810d20
Thought Color❖#be103d

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___

t was with a whisper that Queen Demetria's life took a turn for it's worst. After the jury had claimed she was guilty she had been taken to a prison cell where the guards despite having served her for more than three years treated her as if she was but a lowly thief. The contempt in their hearts was pathetic. The kingdom would surely fall without her guidance, and with how corrupt everyone in parliament was Aliea gave them three months at best before a revolution was in store.

'My kingdom....' she thought regrettably and wondered if attempting to murder the king was a bit of an over-reaction. Thinking back on it, even if she did have his child she could have passed the responsibility to another. Ah, but what if the child grew hateful? It's resentment muffled by duty, and then one day it explodes and takes the kingdom down with it? 'I do not regret what I did,' although, she couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt somewhere in her heart. The king while ignorant and quite stupid, was an okay man. He wasn't mean, nor was he haughty, but his weakness was his lack of knowledge.

Queen Demetria was then brought rudely out of her musings when the train came to a stop and a little girl with purple gray hair almost flew out of her seat, thus causing the guards to yell at her. Now that was the reason why she never wanted to have children. They were too innocent, too wild, and too aggravating. Never knowing when to stop or what consequences their actions may have. And while it is true that Aelia was once a kid she didn't have a choice of being born. It was her parent's and they took responsibility for their actions. Something which she didn't want to do.

The child then proceeded to seat herself and asked the boy next to her a question, and while not particularly caring what was being said she wondered what the relationship between the two of them were. The boy was much too young and the child much too old for it to be possible parental relationship. Although, there were more oddities than that in the world, and an example as such would be his hair. It was purple but not vividly so for it held an undertone of silver which seemed to dominate it's mass. And similar to his hair his eyes were a purple color too but Aelia couldn't be too sure because his gaze was in a perpetual state of squinting. 'I wonder....'

And as the boy began to correct the child's pronouns Aelia noticed another boy with strikingly yellow hair that reminded her of the garden she left behind at the castle. It was styled in a way that if she had been a common girl the mere sight of him would have had her falling, but she wasn't and thus she found it quite disturbing. Too bright was it in contrast to the dreary outside world. And as if he were the personification of nature itself his blue eyes were the sky that the sun seemed to settle in.

But even the sun sets and underneath she had an inkling that he was tired. After all she wore the same expression, although much more openly.

Last but not least was a girl with pale blue hair and rather boring hazel eyes. Her skin was porcelain, and there was a rather odd disposition to her. It was abnormal to say the least, as if there was something she wasn't showing.

Finally the train stopped and as it did so the loud voice rose above the silence, "Welcome to the Outlands." The guards then began to fasten oxygen masks on their faces, but threaded it through the loops of their belt. It was uncomfortable, but if it meant surviving Aelia could deal with it.

The train door then opened a man turned on a taser making sure not to point it at anyone person, but to show it's presence as a tactic of intimidation. It was working, but it wasn't as if she had any thoughts of running away either. "Alright, everybody off!" and so she did.

As her foot touched burnt ground she had to close her eyes. Before it was as if everything she had gone through since her trail had been a nightmare, but as she reached the end point it was a bit much. Taking a big gulp of oxygen she opened her eyes and schooled her expression into that of indifference. The fight to survive was about to start, and she for one wasn't going to die because others thought her to be weak. No, they would be the ones rolling in their grave.

OOC: I'll edit it even more tomorrow.

Setting

The Outlands

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#2015-03-22 03:45:53, as written by JacksColdSweat

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"єʋҽяувσ∂у ҽqυαℓѕ συт ωнҽη αℓℓ тнҽ ѕσηgs αяҽ ѕυηg."
Dialogue Color➢#729da1
Thought Color➣#7db59f

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XXXXXAnd to think it had all started with a pocket watch. A single goddamn pocket watch. Not even a nice one, no. He didn't even have the dignity of knowing, sure, he was going to his death, but at least it was for something valuable. Instead, what he was going to die for was a single, rusted, dented, dingy, worth-nothing pocket watch. He couldn't help but wonder if this was some kind of poetic justice. After all, he'd pulled off better heists than that one for things worth a hell of a lot more. But it's the stupid pocket watch he got busted for? Maybe he's been wrong his whole life. Maybe there was some kind of cosmic force lording over his actions, punishing wrong-doings. But he couldn't see how that would make any sense, considering the greatest thieves of all were rewarded every day of their lives, perched high in the marble mansions, sucking away on their silver spoons.

XXXXXLeon could only sigh softly at his fate--almost in a bored fashion--leaning against the side rail of the corner seat he had chosen and promptly been cuffed to. The ride had been silent for the most part, the other passengers seemingly in a quiet contemplation of their own sorry fates. All except for one girl, just a little thing with strangely colored bright red eyes and silver hair. She was silent for a majority of the ride as well, but likely certainly not in contemplation. Small as she was, the guards hadn't cuffed her to any chair, and Leo watched, bemused, as she scurried about from seat to seat. She reminded him of an excitable child, much like the orphans he knew on the street. As he thought this, his mind couldn't help but wander back to those children. Often, he would steal food for them; he remembered how it felt to starve. He wondered if they would manage to survive without him. He was torn from his reveries by a shout from one of the guards. Glancing up, he saw the strange girl grumbling as she moved back to her seat. He recalled the jarring stop they had come to moments before; she must have fallen. There was silence for a few blissful moments, then a rumbling outside, and a scream inside. Leo winced, shifting uncomfortably in his seat. He hated when people screamed. It drew too much attention. The girl only had enough time to ask the man beside her a question before there was more rumbling and, sadly, more screaming. It ceased eventually, and the train was silent once more. Leo took the opportunity to observe the rest of the passengers he was doomed to die with.

XXXXXHe started with the male the young girl had spoken too. He didn't seem too concerned with the going-ons, calmly observing the girl's antics. He couldn't quite pinpoint their relationship, but he settled on a vague care-taker one. After all, the man seemed to be slightly concerned with the girl's screaming, and he spent time correcting her grammar, but at the same time, Leo felt an air of detachment. In fact, everything about the man screamed "distant," from his stark white attire to his cold gaze. But somehow, Leo could tell he was intelligent. He would make a useful ally, but he wasn't sure having the man on his side would be worth having to carry the child along as well. And in this death sentence, he knew he wouldn't have the opportunity to reflect back on his moral choices.

XXXXXHis eyes drifted to a head of dark red hair and the harsh eyes beneath it. The woman he was staring at was beautiful, certainly, and she held herself, even handcuffed to a chair and condemned to death, with poise. Her entire appearance was regal, lovely. But her eyes held his interest. He cocked his head slightly, examining the cold, calculating glances she was throwing about the train. This was the Queen, he knew instantly. The others had gotten trials, but he had none. A mere street urchin, a dirty thief, he hadn't even been granted that right, merely thrown to the wolves. So his crime had occurred much later than the others. And before he had been caught, he heard whispers on the wind of the royal treason.

XXXXXIt stunned him, being in her presence. Not because she was nobility, the Queen, and him a dirty peasant. Not because she was radiant as all the stories told her to be. No, because she was there. Just like him. It astounded him that, at the very least, he was equal in status to her royal highness. So it was true. Everybody equaled out in the end. A mirthless chuckle, nearly soundless, escaped his lips at the thought.

XXXXXFinally, there was one other girl. The first thing his eyes landed on was her hair. Then, they dropped down to her expression. She looked bored, perhaps more bored than him and the white-dressed man combined.

XXXXXBefore he could think any more about the girl's expression, the train came to a halt. Was this it? The oxygen mask being placed around his face told him yes. The tank was threaded through his belt, urgency evident as he was pushed towards the exit. He stepped out eagerly onto the barren land, ignoring the guards and their petty intimidation tactics, glad to be out of the suffocating tin can. As the scorched landscape entered his sight, a smile couldn't stop itself from worming its way across his face. Yes, there was a certain freedom in death.

Setting

The Outlands

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#2015-03-26 22:30:49, as written by Masquerade (Skye)

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Dialogue Color❖#B22222
Thought Color❖#A52A2A

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█Echo turned to look at Alastair, clearly not pleased with the fact that he was correcting her. She knew of her speech problems, but Echo was never supposed to talk and so she had to learn to speak from listening to other scientists converse. He didn't seem to be paying attention though, something was clearly bugging him and it made Echo nervous. "Is everything alright?" She asked, tugging on his pant leg again. It was obvious that Alastair wasn't pleased with something or another and Echo braced herself to be punished for some minor infraction. Echo was pulled away from him suddenly and she struggled, suddenly in the grip of the guards. She was booted out of the train and onto the cracked earth, dirt clinging to her previously clean jacket.

Echo stood and cursed under her breath, using every bad word she had ever overheard in the lab. She pulled the hood up on her rabbit sweatshirt and huffed indigently, the action making her head suddenly spin from the lack of oxygen in the atmosphere. While Echo could breath just fine, there wasn't enough air for her to feel like she could take a deep breath and so she had to take short, rapid breaths in order to keep her head on right. The guard that had thrown her out gestured to put the oxygen mask on, but Echo simply stuck her tongue out at him and turned around, waiting for Alastair.

As she watched the shimmer at the edge of what looked to be a city in the distance, Echo noticed a pair of eyes staring back at her. Curious she took a step forward, squinting in an attempt to get a better look but the yellow orbs blinked and were gone. "What was that?" Echo wondered and began to walk. She had taken a few more steps before remembering her creator and turning back. "Let's go, Echo wants to see the city." She trudged back to the silver haired man, a bit impatient, Echo was finally free of that underground room and she was going to spend as much time as possible exploring the world she had never gotten to know.

The other three were thrown off the train as well, the creepy blond, the girl with amazing eyes, and the scary lady that reeked of blood. Once they were off the door to the train closed and the metal tube zipped away. Echo picked up her fallen bag and went to hide behind Alastair. She didn't realize these other people would be them and Echo didn't like it. Especially the lady with the red hair and eyes, she scared Echo. Her stomach growled but Echo ignored it, she had grown used to the feeling of hunger and was certain that Alastair would be mad if she ate now as they would have to save their food for the journey ahead.

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Leon Macchia

0 · 552 views · located in The Outlands

a character in “Banishment”, originally authored by JacksColdSweat, as played by RolePlayGateway

Description

So begins...

Leon Macchia's Story

Setting

Characters Present

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Characters Present

Setting

Characters Present

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Setting

Characters Present