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n o  o n e  m o u r n s  t h e  w i c k e d

Introduction

—i wish i had more to say here; this is a storage and nothing more. feel free to look through the content, but please don't steal anything.—

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The GM of this roleplay hasn't created any rules! You can do whatever you like!

Taking place in...

shijie our primary setting

this universe is so large, and you are only one.

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  1. intro post for kingsman: internal affairs.

    by barnes

0.00 INK

#, as written by barnes
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A N D R O M E D A x M E R C I E R

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C H A x H Y U N - J U N

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J A M I E x I N N E S

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The morning dawned bright and early over the Swiss Alps, and with it the village of Zermatt awoke, activity bringing it to life. Tourists ate and chattered and strolled through the streets, and a little way away, in the Dômes Resort, Jamie Innes had been awake for three hours already, running through the register one last time to make sure that everything was in place.

"I'm sure it's all right, sir," Gilbert, the manager, tried to reassure him for what must have been the fourth time that morning. "Sondra is quite capable, and she will have made sure that no one has been overlooked."

"And I will have double-checked, and triple-checked that besides," In-young sighed, wresting the clipboard from Jamie's hands. "Please don't question my work ethic in such an insulting manner."

"But what if unforeseen problems—" Jamie began to protest. In-young held up a hand, clearly tired of his fretting. "We will deal with those when—if—they arise. We've been through this before, you've made your contingency plans. Everything is going to be just fine."

Jamie stopped to process this, clearly caught between his borderline obsessive need for control and not wanting to test the IAN secretary's patience any further. Eventually he gave in, holding his hands up in a gesture of surrender. "You're right."

"I always am." She couldn't resist preening a bit. "Now let me take over the registration process, and you can go and have some breakfast with Gilbert, yes?" She flapped the clipboard at him, shooing him out of the front hall. "I promise to tell you when people start arriving."

———


An hour later the first chartered bus pulled into the roundabout at the resort's entrance, courtesy of IAN's collaboration with a local bus company to ensure a steady stream of buses between the airport, car-free Zermatt, and the resort. Andromeda Mercier was one of the last few people to alight, collecting her bags from where the driver was unloading them with a murmured thanks and rolling them into the front hall. She took a moment to admire her surroundings. The building was angled so as to allow natural light to flood the room through a row of glass doors off to the side, highlighting the interior of the hall which had been designed with a sleek, minimalist atmosphere in mind. Everything was cold marble and bronze, a stark contrast to the warm beauty of the lake and mountains just on the other side of the glass doors, and Andromeda felt as if she was standing right in the middle of the two settings, caught between the worlds of the natural and the artificial.

Already a short line had formed at the front desk, with two young girls working separately to register the arrivals. They appeared to be locals; a slight Asian woman hovered behind both of them, no doubt keeping an eye on their registration process—she probably didn't work for the resort. As she joined the line, Andromeda noted the other individuals strategically positioned around the front hall, making a mental note of the ones who looked like they did this all the time—no doubt the local employees of the resort—and the ones who were scrutinising each arrival as carefully as they were being scrutinised—the members of the International Agents' Network committee, then.

The line moved quickly, and soon Andromeda found herself at the counter, looking down at the receptionist. "Hello!" the girl chirped. "Your invite, please?"

A printout of the email invite that had been sent to each individual agent to confirm their presence at the conference; the instruction that a physical copy would be necessary for the process of checking in had been duly noted. Andromeda slid the folded piece of paper over the counter, and the girl began entering the information into her counter. With her being the last one to be processed, Andromeda was acutely aware of the attention being directed her way by both the receptionists, the Asian woman, and the others standing around the hall.

"Alright, Ms Mercier. Your room is 303, on the third floor of the South Wing. Here's your keys—" a single keycard with the room number printed on it was placed on the counter "—and your identification." A lanyard joined the keycard, a neatly printed card with Andromeda's name and agency printed on it. "South Wing is up that way, through those doors, the building just down the lane. Scan your card at the gate to get through, and then in the lift before selecting your floor. Let Gilbert over there know if you need help with your luggage. Breakfast is being served in the South Wing's dining hall. Here's a map of the resort with a list of our amenities and available services. And a schedule of the conference activities." The girl returned Andromeda's email invite to her, along with a card-sized map and the schedule.

"Thanks." Tucking the papers carefully into her coat pocket and slinging the lanyard around her neck, Andromeda headed in the direction of the South Wing. The doors led her out of the building and down a concrete path, to the only other building in sight. Buzzing herself through the security gate, she could already smell hot coffee from down the hallway, presumably in the direction of the dining room. Already she was planning the next hour in her head—she was going to down as many cups of coffee as she could physically keep down. Find out if they served French toast. And then, only then, would she try to meet some of the other agents.

———


Lucy had been in Zermatt for a couple of days before the conference's beginning, holed up in a cheap bed and breakfast, taking advantage of the free time to wander around and explore the village before it was time to head down to the conference. She hadn't seen anyone around that might have been the other agents, or if they were also wandering around Zermatt Lucy had her the fortune to avoid them.

This morning she'd checked out of the B&B after a simple breakfast, and turned up at the pickup point bright and early. The email invite had specified that chartered buses would be running between Zermatt and the resort all day, allowing the conference attendees time to get there and settle down, maybe acquaint themselves with the surrounding area if they so wished. Lucy considered it better to turn up early and scout the location out—she had looked up all the information she could, but it didn't compare to seeing the place in person.

The bus pulled up, and the driver got out to help load Lucy's bags on, but she waved him off. Her things weren't heavy at all, and she didn't need assistance. The driver backed away respectfully, and she got on without much trouble, settling herself into a seat at the back. No one else got onboard, and after a twenty minute wait the bus pulled away.

Lucy turned to look back at the village as it moved further and further away, and made eye contact with the young man sitting in the aisle across from her. He grinned, flashing a mouthful of neat, small teeth. "Hi. Cha Hyun-jun, Cheonsanju. Where are you from?"

She accepted his handshake, a little reluctantly. He seemed chatty, and she wasn't the best at conversation. "Lucy, Karaton Majapahit. Indonesia," she clarified.

"You were staying in the village before this, huh? I couldn't be bothered," he confessed with a conspiratorial smile, running his hand through his rumpled hair. "My flight landed yesterday evening, and I spent so much time exploring the airport that I had to sleep in the chairs there. They're super comfortable, though. I would probably do it again." He kept up the steady stream of commentary the entire journey, sparing Lucy the necessity of having to talk about herself. Even when they arrived at the resort he kept it up, chattering as he helped her to unload their things, as they registered their presence in the front hall, and down the path to the South Wing. Lucy was granted reprieve only when he got off the lift—his room was on the second floor, hers on the third.

"Well, I guess I'll be seeing you around. It was nice meeting you, Lucy." The lift doors slid closed, and she finally had a bit of quiet to herself.

Her room looked comfortable enough, the balcony looking out over the lake, the curtains pulled back to let the sun shine in. Lucy resisted the urge to flop down on the bed. She did, however, sit down at the desk, turning the chair to face the balcony to soak it all in. There was never anything this beautiful and calm back home; back home it was a constant drone of cars and calling voices, and Lucy rarely had a moment of silence to herself like this.

Another minute, and she'd gotten out of the chair, heading out of her room. There would be time to unpack and get comfortable later. Right now she wanted to take a walk around the resort, maybe even tackle one of the hiking trails before lunchtime. As she got out of the lift on the first floor, she bumped into someone on their way in, taking a step back in order to steady herself. "Sorry."

———


To say Hyun-jun was having one of the best times of his life was probably an understatement. Sure, he was here for a work conference, and yes, he was expected to maintain a certain level of professionalism, but headquarters wasn't breathing over his shoulder, and the air was so clear and cold even for the beginning of summer that every breath felt refreshing. This was way better than the trip he'd made to Jeju Island with his parents the last time he'd managed to get a hard-won break from work.

Entering his room for the first time, he almost laughed in delight—glass doors on the other side of the room opened out onto a balcony that faced the lake, and the expanse of water stretched out blue and glittering as far as he could see. This place was beautiful. He didn't forget to take a quick, calculating look around the room, noting its layout and blind spots, but with nothing of real noteworthiness he'd bounded across the room and thrown the balcony doors open, almost falling over the railing as he pressed himself against it. A cool breeze blew in, and he closed his eyes and smiled. He'd lucked out big time on this assignment.

After a moment Hyun-jun's stomach growled, and he was forced to return to reality. He felt grimy from the flight, and the bagel he'd grabbed at the airport before boarding the bus was all but digested. A quick shower, and then he was going to check out the dining hall.

Twenty minutes later he was down in the dining hall. It wasn't super big—this was no Four Seasons—but a good range of food was laid out, and he spotted an egg station. A sign noted that lunch service would begin at twelve. Hyun-jun's stomach made another grumbling noise as if telling him to get on with it already, and he started towards the tables, picking up a plate.

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  1. intro post for descendant.

    by barnes

0.00 INK

#, as written by barnes
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P E N E L O P E x C A G E

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It was a typical 1AM for Penelope Cage—which of course meant that she was currently ducking a knife being swung at her face. The blade, as long as her hand and glinting in the moonlight, slashed through empty air, and the man wielding it stumbled forward, throwing himself off balance with the strength of his own attack. "You can't dodge me forever, girly," he sneered, getting ready to attack again.

Two girls, clearly inebriated and cowering behind Penelope in the alley the mugger had caught them in, screeched as he swung and missed again. "Aren't you, like, bulletproof? Just hit him already," one of the girls begged, seizing Penelope's shoulder in one hand and tugging. This action distracted her from the ongoing fight, and this time the blade glanced off her cheekbone, the metal crumpling as easily as paper. Penelope sighed. She had hoped to just scare the mugger off, but men like that only responded to direct action.

Drawing her arm back, she cold-cocked him right in the nose, breaking it with a crunch that seemed to reverberate through the alley. He fell backwards, clutching his face. Blood poured out from between his fingers as he groaned. "Bitch!" Still bent over, he tried to slash Penelope again with his ruined knife, and now she lashed out with a lead foot that caught him in the chest and sent him flying backwards into a crumpled heap at the mouth of the alley. This time he stayed down.

The girls hurried out from behind Penelope, the one who had grabbed her shoving past roughly, clearly irritated that her night had been ruined by some stupid mugger and a hero who didn't even want to fight. Her friend slipped around her more meekly, reaching out to grasp Penelope's hand in her cold fingers. "Thank you," she whispered, and then they were gone, heading to whatever afterparty was going on in Harlem tonight.

Penelope sighed. Another night, another "rescue", or whatever. Putting her hoodie up, she tucked her hands into the pockets of the jacket and stalked off in the opposite direction from the girls. Her phone vibrated with a call, and she put it up to her ear without checking the caller ID. At this time, there were only a handful of people who would be calling her.

"Penny." It was her dad. "I've been trying to reach you for half an hour."

"Sorry, I was—"

He didn't let her finish. "It doesn't matter. Listen, Penny, this is urgent. I've received a summons to the Academy, and it's probably related to the disappearances. You need to go and check it out. Sugar's got a driver waiting for you. Come home, pack quickly, and go."

Penelope began to agree, but he had already hung up. Typical of the great Luke Cage, who was so busy keeping Harlem safe that he couldn't even say goodbye to his own daughter. She walked home, signalling to the car idling out front to wait. The driver, a hulk of a man, waved back.

* * *


"Miss Cage? We're here." Penelope shook awake, suddenly aware that the car had pulled to a stop. She had fallen asleep ten minutes into the ride, the movement of the car and her exhaustion overtaking her. They had pulled up in front of an old but no less familiar building. The sky was still dark; the night was not yet over.

She scrambled out of the car, dragging her bags along with her. Sticking her head in the open passenger side window, she thanked the driver. He reached out to pat her hand where it rested on the window frame. "Kick some ass, girl." The car left the driveway as quickly as it had come, its lights quickly disappearing into the darkness.

The doors opened automatically for Penelope, revealing a fully lit lobby that didn't surprise her as much as it should have. Although she was clearly late, it stood to reason that Phil and Alfred would be waiting for any stragglers. She didn't want to be there, but her manners took over automatically. "Phil. Alfred. It's good to see you." You look well, she wanted to say, but of course it wasn't true.

"Penelope. Welcome back." Alfred motioned to the chairs still set up in the arrangement from earlier that day. She noticed that someone else was already there; it had been a good while since they'd seen each other, but Penelope recognised Theodore Grayson immediately. "Hey, Penny." He raised a hand in greeting. "Seems like we're both late."

"Sorry about that." She turned to Phil, already getting ready to explain herself. "My dad got your message, and he..."

"There's no need to worry about that," Phil cut in. "What matters is why you're here." Quickly, as they had with the earlier arrivals, the two men explained the situation with the heroes and their suspicions about the I.H.A. "You'll be safe here, and we'll do our best to help you prepare," Alfred finished. "If you choose to stay. Others have responded to our signal, and those that accepted are upstairs resting. You'll be able to meet them soon."

Theo didn't hesitate, grabbing one of the keys for himself. Penelope was less enthused, but she was here, and she couldn't turn her back on the people that needed her help, even if this entire situation seemed like a Bad Idea. She stood up, shouldering her bags. She took the other key from Alfred's outstretched fingers, murmuring, "Goodnight," as she passed him.

* * *


It felt like Penelope's head had barely hit the pillow when an alarm rang out through the room, startling her awake for the second time in four hours. J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice was mildly apologetic. "Good morning, Miss Cage. Please proceed to Sub-level 20 for training in an hour."

"Morning, J," Penelope yawned, sitting up reluctantly. "Here we go again," she muttered to herself. It was just like old times, always the sparring and the obstacle courses and the judging people based on their abilities.

Unlike the flashy costumes that some of the heroes present would no doubt turn up in, she had no fixed costume, only a comfortable black hoodie that Penelope preferred to wear out while she was on patrol for its warmth and ease of movement. After a quick shower, she pulled the hoodie on and a pair of workout leggings, shaking the water out of her cropped hair as the door to her room slid shut behind her.

She had hoped for a few quiet minutes before reaching the training floor, but there was no such relief; someone else was already in the lift, an unfamiliar face. Penelope hesitated a moment before stepping in with a soft, "Good morning," and tucking herself into the corner furthest from the stranger.






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As a hero, Theo Grayson was typically out on the streets, looking for trouble to resolve or chasing down a lead on a mission; but not today. Instead, he was holed up in the spare bedroom of his apartment—which had been converted into a command centre replete with police scanner, mini forensic lab, and a souped-up computer—trying to chase down leads on the whereabouts of Jason Todd. Each lead seemed to evaporate as soon as Theo got his hands on information, which was making for a very fruitless investigation.

"Listen, if you could just—yes, I know you haven't heard anything, but are you sure that Curtis didn't speak to—man, come on, just help me out—goddammit!" The dial tone blared in his ear, and Theo hurled the receiver in frustration. It bounced off the monitor harmlessly, falling back into place on its hook. He threw himself backwards in his chair, which toppled backwards, leaving him lying on the floor. Without bothering to get up, he put his hands over his face and groaned. It was almost three weeks since Jason had vanished, and Theo was getting desperate.

"Theooooo!" A feminine voice sounded in the living room, the owner drawing out his name as, from the sound of it, she searched through the kitchen, storage room, and then finally put her head into the spare bedroom. "Theo, darling. What are you doing?"

"Change of perspective," he replied, ever the wisecrack. "Hi, Mom. How'd you get in?"

"I let myself in. You really should stop hiding your spare key in your shoes, it was disgusting looking through them." Koriand'r tossed the spare key at him. "Your father got a message yesterday. We think it might be related to Jason." She waved a piece of paper at him, numbers scribbled hastily in blue ink clearly visible on it. Theo leaped up, snatching it from her and reading the numbers to himself. Coordinates. "This is the Academy. But it's closed?"

"That's exactly what your dad said. He doesn't think there's anything fishy about it, and that you should go. They might be able to help," Kory suggested. She ruffled his already-untidy hair, ignoring his protests. "We'll leave you to it." With that, she backed out of the room, leaving the apartment.

Although he trusted Dick more than anyone else, Theo had to check again. It took the better part of two days, and more phone calls, but eventually it seemed as though the summons wasn't suspicious. Packing quickly, Theo watered his plants one last time, then hurried to the garage where his bike was waiting.

* * *


It was way past the stated time when Theo pulled up outside the Academy, parking his bike haphazardly by the front of the building. Beyond the front doors, Alfred and Phil were waiting in an empty lobby. "You got our message, then."

"Well, Dad got your message, and he ran it through a bunch of checks, and then he passed it to me, and then I ran it through a bunch of checks... and I'm here now. What's going on? Does it have anything to do with the disappearances? Did you know Jason's gone?"

"Mr. Grayson, please calm down. We'll explain shortly. Please take a seat," Phil urged. Theo turned to see the arrangement of chairs and sofas, and flopped down into one of them with a huff, clearly impatient to get to the part where they told them what was going on.

The doors opened again, and a girl hurried in, pulling a couple of bags behind her effortlessly despite her slender frame. It was obvious who she was, Theo didn't need to see her face to know. When she turned to him, he saw the spark of recognition in her eyes too. "Hey, Penny. Seems we're both late."

She took the seat beside him. It was clear, through the entirety of Phil and Alfred's speech, that she was nervous, her spine tense and hands clasped tightly in her lap. The realisation broke through Theo's own anxiety, confusing him. He was aware that Penny had never been the most heroic of them, but this tension was new. Had something happened to her?

Before he could ask, Alfred held out two keys, clearly to the penthouses upstairs. Their speech was finished, and the choice was obvious to Theo. "I'm staying. I want to know what's going on, and put a stop to it." The hint of a wry smile touched Alfred's lips, recognising the trademark Grayson determination. "Good to have you back, sir. Before you go upstairs, perhaps you'd like to put your vehicle in the garage. You remember where it is."

"Good idea. I'll see you tomorrow, Alfred, Phil. Penny," he nodded as he passed her, heading back outside to wheel his bike into the garage where he put it next to a row of bikes, some flashy, some more pedestrian. Probably belonged to the students.

* * *


Theo barely slept the rest of the night, lying very still on his back in the middle of the bed, just thinking about the situation. Having exhausted pretty much every contact, he had to admit that there was very little information for him to go on with—but now he was at the Academy, with a group of other heroes who seemed to have a similar desire to find the ones that had gone missing. That brought a bit of hope, even if he wasn't sure how helpful they would be.

The sun rose, and with it came J.A.R.V.I.S.'s voice. "Good morning, Mr. Grayson. Training at Sub-level 20 will commence in an hour."

It would be a good way of meeting the others present, at any rate. Theo had packed his suit, similar in appearance to his father's classic Nightwing design with significant armour, a utility belt, and two escrima sticks which could be strapped to his back for easy access. This Theo pulled on after his shower, opting to leave the domino mask off, which he tucked into a hidden pocket. There was no need to hide his identity here.

Walking onto the training floor, Theo stopped short, realising that he didn't quite recognise most of the people here. Of course, not every hero-in-training would have attended the Academy, but maybe there were more than he'd realised that either studied there at a time different from him or had never attended at all. He looked around at the people gathered, just in time to see one of the girls slap another on the butt. She was one of... those girls. Certainly amusing on their own terms, but not in a situation like this. Theo hoped they wouldn't all be like that.

He cleared his throat, trying to catch someone's attention. "Hey. Hi. I'm Theodore Grayson, Theo. Nightstar."






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While the whole commotion in the front hall was going on, two identical cars were approaching the derelict compound, pulling to a stop in the driveway. The driver of the second car leaped out, hurrying to open the back door for his passenger.

A slim, well-dressed man stepped out, surveying the Academy with a slightly disdainful smirk. As he did, another man emerged from the first car, his attention focused instead on the surrounding land, noting its silence and emptiness. Aside from the three of them (and of course everyone else inside the tower) there wasn't another soul around. They began approaching the front doors, the man who had been sitting in the back of the second car leading the trio.

This was, of course, Raoul Falcone, of the Falcones operating out of Gotham City. Usually leaving his home grounds warranted greater security detail, but as he technically wasn't at the Academy on business he had opted to arrive in the company of only two of his trusted underlings. Still, Raoul wasn't so stupid as to be completely unarmed; he had, at present, no less than two guns and three knives on his body, and the same went for his bodyguards.

The front doors slid open, and Raoul sauntered in, removing his sunglasses and tucking them away. "Well," he started, "seems you've got quite the party going on here. Sorry I'm late, but I heard about it through my network, and I had to come see for myself."

He looked around at the people gathered, noting each one. Some of them were familiar faces—the Grayson boy in particular, who had started forward with a furious expression. Raoul held a hand up, still smiling slightly, stopping Grayson in his tracks, although he still looked murderous, shaking in his stupid little hero getup.

"You might want to hear me out," he went on. "Some of you may know me already, but allow me to introduce myself. My name is Raoul Falcone, and these gentlemen with me are McCann and Fisher. I'm aware that you're gathered to investigate the recent, uh... disappearances. Now, normally this kind of event would warrant some celebration on my part, if you know what I do for a living." He winked at Theo. "But the truth is, they have me concerned, because people don't just vanish like that. Especially not heroes. Either they die with a bang and a flash, shaky phone recordings of the event plastered across the Times Square for a week, or they retire and pass the job on to people like you guys. But disappearing quietly? That never happens. And who's to say whoever did it won't be coming after men like me? The enemy of my enemy is my friend, right?"

Raoul shrugged, his tone growing serious. "What I have to offer is weapons, and men. I've got ears in more cities than just Gotham, and I'm at the head of a very extensive information network, which actually led me to you, if you're curious about how I knew to come here. In return, you'll allow me a place in your squad, and I'll tag along for the ride, because I want to know what the hell is going on. And at the end of it... who knows? We might be friends. In fact, to show I mean business, I'm putting myself at your mercy." He dismissed his men with a wave, and without hesitation, they turned and left the building, sliding back into the cars waiting out front. The cars did not leave, but remained sitting in the driveway, leaving Raoul standing alone in front of the group. He held a hand out in Phil's direction. "Well, what do you say?"

test test test

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0.00 INK

#, as written by barnes
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[INDENT][SIZE=12px][SIZE=12px]→[/SIZE][I]BREE-nuh + KIN-see + f-INCH[/I][/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]nicknames[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ bree | [I]"don't be so shy, bree. come play, we won't bite."[/I] | she's gone by bree for as long as she can remember. even her parents hardly use brenna, unless she's in real trouble.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ blue | [I]"aw, is our blue feeling blue again?"[/I] | on account of the striking colour of her eyes, this nickname is used affectionately by her friends sometimes.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ little bird | [I]"i'll protect you, my little bird."[/I] | coined by her boyfriend, this nicknamed is based on her last name.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ carol anne | [I]"hey, carol anne over there's seeing ghosts again."[/I] | perhaps due to her perpetually-haunted look, some particularly unkind kids in her school have taken to calling her that, after the little girl in the poltergeist films.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]birthday & age[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ twenty-seventh january[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ eighteen[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]gender & sexuality[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ cis female[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ bisexual[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]ethnicity[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ having immigrated to lampkin from ireland, she's irish through and through.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]accent[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ after nearly a decade of living in america, bree's accent has largely morphed to match the general american accent of her peers, but she when agitated she tends to lapse back into her native irish accent. this accent is particularly strong when she speaks irish gaelic, which she's fairly fluent in.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]occupation[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ student[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ part-time tutor[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[CENTER][IMG width="150px"]https://i.imgur.com/LcrK53U.jpg[/IMG] [IMG width="150px"]https://i.imgur.com/Oy6rBxb.jpg[/IMG][/CENTER]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[B][I][SIZE=18px]about [COLOR=#F5A79F]appearances[/COLOR][/SIZE][/I][/B]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]height[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ she's always been slightly tall and gangly for her age, and doesn't seem to be growing into it anytime soon at 1.75m.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]weight[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ despite her height, she's not got a lot of meat on her bones, and weighs about 59kg.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]hair[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ a delicate flaxen blonde that's darker towards the roots, bree's hair falls to just below her shoulders. though generally parted on the left and pushed back from her face, she's been experimenting with a center part of late. not one to bother with elaborate hairstyles, she's content to leave it loose most of the time.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]eyes[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ bree's eyes are a striking blue, large and often with a dreamy, haunted sort of look in them. she usually sports winged eyeliner and light eyeshadow too.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]body[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ a beanpole of a girl ever since she was young, bree's more angles and sharp points where other girls her age might already have filled out. her pale skin and hair further add to the illusion of fragility, as though she might be a bit of priceless porcelain easily shattered if touched the wrong way. however, she does have a sizable amount of strength in her limbs for a girl her size.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]attire[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ in keeping with her general good-girl image, bree favours modest blouses paired with comfortable jeans and the occasional skirt, or sometimes swapping these out for a dress. her father especially is particular that she should [I]dress like a lady[/I], so she dresses in soft pastels and indulges more in makeup instead, adding a splash of colour to her outfits by slicking on lipstick.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]scars/markings[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ hidden under her hair is a small scar high on her right temple, from where she was hit by a rock as a child.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]tattoos & piercings[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ bree has pierced earlobes, but nothing beyond that.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]physical ailments[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]--[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]face claim[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ elle fanning[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[CENTER][IMG width="150px"]https://i.imgur.com/tpKB5h2.jpg[/IMG] [IMG width="150px"]https://i.imgur.com/aOrjKvy.jpg[/IMG][/CENTER]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[B][I][SIZE=18px]getting[COLOR=#F5A79F] personal[/COLOR][/SIZE][/I][/B]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]personality[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ aloof + protective + loyal[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]ask around for anyone's impression of bree, and nine out of ten times you'd probably get little more than a shrug. having led a largely solitary life, bree isn't the type to immediately seek out companionship, and as a result is almost always one of the last whose presence is acknowledged. this isn't borne of any disdain or dislike for others - rather, her generally distant and reticent manner is due to her preference for her own company. she has never felt the need to find purpose in the presence of others, and would much rather be left alone with her own thoughts for company. while she won't necessarily reject anyone who tries to spend time with her, it's also unlikely that many would want to seek her out given her solitary nature, so for the most part she can be alone when she wants to, and that's just how she likes it.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]bree isn't easy to connect with, but is the kind of friend most people overlook, but would be blessed to have. she's fiercely protective of her loved ones, and will stand by them if they ever need her to. any promises she makes, she intends to keep. she does tend to be loyal to a fault, sometimes even overlooking their shortcomings in order to defend them, but it is done only with the sincerest desire to be a good friend.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]likes[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ drawing + indie rock music + ice cream + mint chocolate + glitter + scrapbooking + the smell of lavender + fruity tea + the ocean + the colours mint and light blue + any small fluffy animal really + marshmallows + cute earrings + math class[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]dislikes[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ coffee + rainy weather + the colour orange + loud music + fish + fighting + raisins + biology class + the forest + clutter + dirty spaces + bullies + sensory overload + blood[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]habits[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ picking or peeling at her nails, sometimes to the point of bleeding + mumbling under her breath in english or irish gaelic while thinking + rubs her earrings when worried or anxious[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]talents[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ drawing + visual arrangement + sorting out logical problems + helping with the groceries[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]fears[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ thunder -- she always thinks of that one catastrophic storm in her childhood, and she can't help it; she just wants to hide in a corner until the storm passes.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ falling -- not just any typical fall; falling from a height scares her a lot. she's never been able to jump off a diveboard, or even hop off a table without getting as close to the ground as possible first.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]mental ailments[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ insomnia -- it gets worse when she's stressed. on good nights she can catch a couple hours of sleep, but on bad nights she spends most of the time wandering the house like a pale ghost, plagued by the kind of fearful thoughts that only seem to materialise in the night.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[CENTER][IMG width="150px"]https://i.imgur.com/5NyVeIs.jpg[/IMG] [IMG width="150px"]https://i.imgur.com/8FBLX56.jpg[/IMG][/CENTER]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[B][I][SIZE=18px]her [COLOR=#F5A79F]backstory[/COLOR][/SIZE][/I][/B]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]mother[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ [URL='https://i.imgur.com/8lloJV0.gif']niamh byrne[/URL] | alive | [I]"mama, she's a trooper. but i'm not sure she really loves any of us."[/I] | niamh and bree were never really that close. sure, niamh keeps the house clean and dinner warm, and bree comes home every day and gives her a kiss on the cheek, but bree's not sure she's ever felt real motherly love from her. when she was younger, she used to look at little children being sent off to school by their mothers and feel a twinge of jealousy, but she's now indifferent to their relationship. niamh insists that bree only speaks irish gaelic to her, and perhaps bree is the only one in the family that she still cares for.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]father[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ [URL='https://i.gifer.com/131O.gif']ronan finch[/URL] | alive | [I]"papa's a dear. he spoils me rotten."[/I] | bree's always been a little bit of a daddy's girl, and ronan would do anything to keep his daughter happy and safe. he's not very educated, being fairly close to the bottom of the corporate ladder despite his years of service, but he's taught bree everything he knows, and at least that's given her some knowledge of how to use what strength she has well. he would move the world for her if she asked, but she loves him too much to ever request too much of him.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]grandfather[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ [URL='https://i.gifer.com/phy.gif']clarence finch[/URL] | alive | [I]"i know i shouldn't be, but i'm still a little afraid of him."[/I] | clarence and bree have a distant relationship at best. he lives in their guest bedroom, but tends to stay in his room watching television and reading, and has never really made an attempt to connect with his granddaughter. she's heard stories from her friends back in ireland about the rumours surrounding clarence, which are the main reason for her wariness of him, though she doesn't know if they're true or not.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]grandmother[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ sadie maher | deceased | [I]"i don't really remember her... i do miss her, though, and i think papa does too."[/I] | sadie died when bree was six in an accident. the circumstances surrounding her death were hazy, but bree has her suspicions. she vaguely remembers sadie, but can't reconcile her with the beautiful woman in the photos her father sometimes shows her.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]other relationships[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ [/SIZE][URL='https://66.media.tumblr.com/356feb970712ba427234e8c32e479673/tumblr_inline_pjts9xYB191qasytv_1280.gif'][SIZE=12px]astrid lang[/SIZE][/URL][SIZE=12px] | best friend | alive | [I]"astrid has been so nice to me. she's the best."[/I][/SIZE] | [SIZE=12px]it took a few weeks, but astrid was bree's first ever friend in high school. assigned partners in biology class, astrid made bree swap seats with her so bree could better ignore the mean hissed remarks from wynona, and after that offered bree a seat at their lunch table. from then on bree was part of astrid's friend group, no questions, and they've been a small close knit group for the past four years. astrid is hardly any less of a loner than bree is, but she does what she can to bring joy to her friends, and if it means letting bree have a group to sit with while everyone talks and she listens quietly, that's what she'll do.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ [/SIZE][URL='https://66.media.tumblr.com/867a76f5138eaacead8d72e8670756bc/tumblr_inline_pfypb5l48h1urfelz_400.gif'][SIZE=12px]kyra hadley[/SIZE][/URL][SIZE=12px] | best friend | alive | [I]"kyra, that's your paint water, not coffee."[/I][/SIZE] | [SIZE=12px]kyra is the scatterbrained artist of their friend group. never without a paint blotch on her clothes or an ink stain on her fingers, she's determined to try making art in any and all mediums, with the unfortunate side effect of being so immersed in her work that she forgets to eat or sleep occasionally, so it's good that she has her friends to remind her. she's the closest to bree of the group, as both are content to sit together and work in silence, with kyra occasionally bouncing her ideas off bree.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ [/SIZE][URL='https://66.media.tumblr.com/51ebdb5cba8f8779dbb61c8f50e4824d/tumblr_inline_pl8rnoBtSl1wr26ve_500.gif'][SIZE=12px]cassia flynn[/SIZE][/URL][SIZE=12px] | best friend | alive | [I]"you're no queen bee, but you settled and now you're a loser like the rest of us."[/I][/SIZE] | [SIZE=12px]a former child model, cassia realised as soon as she entered teenagehood that she was sick of the spotlight. though she could easily have commanded her own little friend group, she chose to seek out one of the students who had more or less been marked as an outcast in the social hierarchy - astrid - and ask to be friends with her. it was a decision that bewildered everyone, but cassia rejected popularity fairly quickly and grew close to her little circle of losers. while she and bree experience a similar bewilderment when it comes to each other, they can respect their shared preference to stay away from attention. and if bree is to be honest, she senses some attraction between cassia and kyra, something that thrills her to no end.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ [/SIZE][URL='https://media1.tenor.com/images/08582835fe098afc80b5bcb2fc203e1c/tenor.gif'][SIZE=12px]donovan marlowe[/SIZE][/URL][SIZE=12px] | best friend | alive | [I]"he's all bark and no bite. donnie's a sweetheart."[/I][/SIZE] | [SIZE=12px]donovan was, initially, a troublemaker no one could get through to. vulgar and often resorting to violence to settle his conflicts, everyone was ready to give up on him - until bree, attempting to channel astrid, offered her services as tutor and a space in their group. he initially balked at being seen with a whole group of girls as friends, but eventually settled comfortably. he still struggles with expressing his emotions healthily, but bree is always ready to act as his emotional anchor, and for that he's always put her on a bit of a pedestal, treating her like one would a guardian angel.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ [/SIZE][URL='https://data.whicdn.com/images/294205016/original.gif'][SIZE=12px]harry dietrich[/SIZE][/URL][SIZE=12px] | boyfriend | alive | [I]"he surprises me every day, and he makes me laugh."[/I][/SIZE] | [SIZE=12px]drawn to bree's enigmatic nature and her bright smile, reserved only for the rarest of occasions, harry was initially little more than a transfer student admiring her from afar. it took a while, but - egged on by cassia, who considered herself something of a matchmaker and had noticed harry's furtive glances in bree's direction - he finally found the courage to ask her out. they've been together for a few months now, and though they seem like a strange match at first sight - harry talkative and excited, bree quiet and calm - their affection for each other is pure and innocent.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ [/SIZE][URL='https://66.media.tumblr.com/d91f0c1a9510e19b6cd76c2cd4444d62/tumblr_inline_ole2jkQYJV1u615bt_400.gif'][SIZE=12px]wynona haas[/SIZE][/URL][SIZE=12px] | bully | alive | [I]"i do what i can to get by. it's not all that bad."[/I][/SIZE] | [SIZE=12px]when bree first moved to lampkin, wynona - already enjoying the attention being pretty and popular afforded her - attempted to take bree under her wing, offering her the chance to become part of a queen bee's clique. what she hadn't expected was bree to look her in the eye and turn her down politely but coolly, and she's never forgotten the slight since then. any chance to pick on bree's lack of wealth, any opportunity to point out bree's poor social status to an adoring crowd is seized immediately, and though she's definitely tried to make bree's life hard for her the other girl has continued with her own life, leaving wynona sputtering and insulted.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ [/SIZE][URL='https://em.wattpad.com/92119f96f29cbe5b8009850f3446ba5b9909a104/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f4b493743682d4653416c633556413d3d2d3437373538363536372e313465613263663930396164396632393837303231353739373035312e676966'][SIZE=12px]robin de costa[/SIZE][/URL][SIZE=12px] | childhood friend | alive | [I]"i do remember robin, and it was such a surprise to hear from him. i'm glad i've got a reminder in him."[/I][/SIZE] | [SIZE=12px]having moved from her native ireland to america when she was only seven, bree expected to leave her old life behind completely. so it was rather a surprise at fifteen years old to be contacted through social media by an old friend from elementary school, but a welcome surprise at that. though they haven't met in person, she and robin lapsed quickly into a habit of emailing and video calling each other every weekend, and their friendship has not been weakened by distance.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
[INDENT][COLOR=#894357][SIZE=12px][B][U]biography[/U][/B][/SIZE][/COLOR][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]→ [URL='https://66.media.tumblr.com/35fdb6d166dd1cafb972594a2369f528/tumblr_onsp15FIWn1tkodheo1_400.gif']"when i was a kid, i would sneak out onto the roof at night.[/URL] [URL='https://66.media.tumblr.com/0b51d2c8f018c0870ac2dd08e67a2e4f/tumblr_onsp15FIWn1tkodheo2_400.gif']i thought the moon looked like a big round eye.[/URL] [URL='https://66.media.tumblr.com/6a0f1f76b2de505dea44e83b56c464c2/tumblr_onsp15FIWn1tkodheo3_400.gif']and i would look up and i'd say, 'do you see me?'[/URL] [URL='https://66.media.tumblr.com/c795108695b4e8916cd89bcbb6fe292b/tumblr_onsp15FIWn1tkodheo4_400.gif']i would stay out there for hours. sometimes i'd fall asleep just dreaming."[/URL][/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]bree was always just the way she was. right from the day she was born, wide-eyed and silent, she'd always been a solitary creature, spending her time doodling or dreaming or just watching the other children play. her parents worried, especially her father, who'd wanted a little girl for so long and finally had his dream come true. but the lack of social interaction didn't really stunt her growth in any way - in fact, if anything she grew taller and stronger than her peers, excelling at her studies and picking up the skills her father imparted to her quickly. she was still happy, and didn't seem to want for much.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]her family, though - that was a different matter. an only child, she lived right by the sea in a small irish village with her parents ronan and niamh, and her grandparents clarence and sadie. ronan was not a well-educated man, and worked hard every day to keep his family comfortable, quietly shouldering clarence's disapproval at the state of his only son. clarence never quite approved of anything - the state of their house, the way bree was being raised, even his own wife's way of housekeeping. despite niamh's attempts to help, sadie worked herself to the bone keeping home. though they'd never argue in front of the child, clarence's poor attitude affected everyone at home, and even bree herself was reluctant to go home some nights for fear of the blatant anger radiating from the old man.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]maybe it was the way her husband nagged her, maybe it was just the strain of cooking and cleaning every single day. regardless of the reason, a strong flu gripped sadie one winter's evening, and by the next day she was nursing a fever so strong that she couldn't think straight no matter how she tried. the fever burned for days, and in the dead of one particularly cold night, her thoughts muddled by the fever, sadie rolled quietly out of bed, walked out of her home to the edge of the cliff on which the house stood, and threw herself over it, plummeting down to the beach below.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]at least that's how the story went. it wasn't long before terrible rumours began circulating, however, that clarence finch had been the one to push his wife over the cliff. the unfortunate thing about small towns is that, with all the long and boring days one has to endure, rumours are generally a source of widespread excitement. no evidence was found to support this theory, but the word spread quickly, and soon enough the finches were despised through all of town, ostracised by their own people. bree herself was a target for the children at school, and one afternoon while she was heading home from school was set upon by a couple of older boys who began throwing rocks at her. one of the projectiles met its mark on her right temple and cut her pretty badly, and it was that afternoon that bree returned home with blood and tears running down her face.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]the attack was perhaps what jolted ronan and niamh into taking action. after ensuring that bree had received the appropriate medical attention, they packed up as quickly as they could and moved to lampkin, colorado, hoping for a fresh start.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][SIZE=12px]this is how the finches have lived, in relative quiet for the most part. lampkin was welcoming, and they were happy to take up a new life there. clarence still lives with them, still grumpy but more subdued than his old cantankerous self. niamh has never really forgiven her father-in-law for the rumours - whether they were rooted in truth is irrelevant - and plays the part of dutiful wife while longing for the home she left behind. ronan continues to work hard, determined to do his best in a town that has never condemned him for any reason. and bree does what she has to to survive.[/SIZE][/INDENT]
[INDENT][/INDENT]
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Code: Select all
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[RIGHT][FONT=Book Antiqua][SIZE=22px][COLOR=#a3507d][B][I]────[/I][/B][/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][FONT=Times New Roman][SIZE=22px][COLOR=#a3507d][I] BREE FINCH.[/I][/COLOR][/SIZE][/FONT][/RIGHT]

[JUSTIFY][FONT=Arial][SIZE=12px][I]Beep.

from: [B]assteroid[/B]
[COLOR=#8d8d8d]hihi you're all coming to the party tonight right?? plzz[/COLOR]

Beep.

from: [B]donnie[/B]
[COLOR=#8d8d8d]Nope. sick sorry I'm going to pass. Cassi you can drink on my behalf we;ll be vom buddies.[/COLOR]

Beepbeepbeep.

from: [B]cassi[/B]
[COLOR=#8d8d8d]First, gross. Second, I'm dragging Kyra out right now. Get your own ride Astrid.[/COLOR]

from: [B]assteroid[/B]
[COLOR=#8d8d8d]boooo. donovan's a party pooper. stay home sick loser !!![/COLOR]

from: [B]harry ❤[/B]
[COLOR=#8d8d8d]Bree amd me on the wsy![/COLOR][/I]

Bree looked up from her phone, casting a glance at her boyfriend in the driver's seat. [COLOR=#a3507d]"You shouldn't be texting and driving, and it's 'Bree and I',"[/COLOR] she informed him in a prim tone, though she was fighting back a smile.

[COLOR=#8d8d8d]"I'm a [I]great[/I] driver! Besides, it's fun."[/COLOR] Harry began to tap on the steering wheel, singing loudly. [COLOR=#8d8d8d][I]"Bree and me, Harry and a little birdie, on our way to a paaartyyyyy."[/I][/COLOR] She burst out laughing, and he turned a self-satisfied smile in her direction, as he always did when he succeeded in amusing her.

[COLOR=#a3507d]"Keep... your eyes - on the road,"[/COLOR] she gasped, trying to control herself. [COLOR=#a3507d]"You're gonna kill us."[/COLOR] The remark didn't wipe the smile off his face, but he did shift his attention away to focus on finding a parking spot. Soon enough they were parked a few blocks away from the party.

Someone yanked the car door open, and Bree choked back a scream. The person standing there leaned down into Bree's space, their features resolving as Bree's eyes adjusted to the light. [COLOR=#a3507d]"Kyra!"[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#8d8d8d]"The one and only! God, you should've seen your face,"[/COLOR] the offender giggled, pulling Bree out of the car. [COLOR=#8d8d8d]"We thought you guys saw us, I wouldn't have scared you otherwise."

"Yeah, I'm parked right over there,"[/COLOR] another voice drawled, and Bree looked past Kyra's shoulder to spy Cassia, blonde and beautiful and evidently impatient to get to the party. She jerked her head at Kyra, and the other two girls, who had patience enough between them to put up with Cassia's need to live life quickly, moved to join her on the pavement. A moment more and Harry fell into step beside Bree, the group heading in the direction of the party, which judging from the noise was well under way.

As they pulled up to the house Bree and Harry slowed down, letting Cassia and Kyra pull ahead. An unexpectedly cool breeze rolled past, ruffling Bree's [URL='https://i.pinimg.com/236x/a1/9f/52/a19f52a7e4d504914a08143d2836d041--fanning-sisters-dark-blue-dresses.jpg']skirt[/URL], and she suppressed a shiver. [COLOR=#8d8d8d]"Not too subtle there, Birdie. Here, take my [URL='http://www2.pictures.zimbio.com/bg/Tom+Holland+Tom+Holland+Hits+Kimmel+mVrxLMleiaEl.jpg']jacket[/URL]."[/COLOR] Before she could protest he'd shrugged his jacket off and put it around her shoulders, his hands lingering a little longer than necessary.

[COLOR=#8d8d8d]"Ohhh, never thought the day would come when I'd be jealous of Wednesday Addams."[/COLOR] The couple instinctively jerked apart, turning to face the girl standing behind them, her arms crossed and scowling. Wynona Haas was lipsticked, wearing far too little for a cool winter's evening, and clearly pissed, though Bree couldn't imagine she'd done anything to incur this wrath. Yet. [COLOR=#8d8d8d]"Cute as this is, I'm in a bad mood and my only goal tonight is to drink as much spiked punch as I can keep down, so just stay out of my way,"[/COLOR] she hissed at them, shouldering past Harry before he could even think up a retort.

Bree stared after her retreating back for a moment, then reached out to take Harry's hand. [COLOR=#a3507d]"Never mind her."[/COLOR]

[COLOR=#8d8d8d]"Yeah, she's just [I]super[/I] jealous of Wednesday Addams's amazingly handsome boyfriend,"[/COLOR] Harry returned, smiling again, and together they walked into the party, swallowed almost immediately by the crowd.[/SIZE][/FONT][/JUSTIFY]
[/div]

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#, as written by barnes
partially quoted from my old roleplayers wanted thread

  • [ inspired by Christopher J. Yates's Black Chalk ]
    a group of friends in college come together to play a Game of dares and humiliation, gathering weekly to play a round consisting of a series of games like monopoly, risk, and so on - producing one or more losers every round. the losers will then choose a dare at random from a set of previously agreed-upon dares designed to humiliate or challenge the loser. as time passes by rifts and alliances develop within the group, and the Game devolves from good-natured fun to outright backstabbing and degradation, perhaps even utilising players' own pasts and fears against them. who will come out on top? who will see the Game through? who will reach their limit?
    (this plot will require about six main characters, so we'll definitely have to double up!)

  • [ inspired by a pure love for Korean drama fun ]
    character A is a youngish girl who's on the run, let's say from creditors or maybe gang members. character B is an immortal/mythical being of some sort running from celestial trouble too (i based my idea of B very heavily off Gong Yoo's character in Goblin), and as fate has it somehow A and B get stuck with each other, and end up having some kind of adventure together, maybe a road trip or whatever. but it could be played out really comedic and wild, like they've both got clashing personalities and keep running into trouble but ultimately B falls in love with A's wildness, and A finds B's dependability reassuring.
    (i'd really rather play A in this plot, thanks!)

  • [ inspired by Elon Dann's Clockwise to Titan ]
    "Twelve hundred boys and girls, some as young as eleven, removed from homes and parents (or from the streets in many cases), forced to live together under the uncaring gaze of the clavigers. We had nutcases, headcases, damage cases, hard cases, sad cases, and special cases. We had thumb-suckers and blanket-huggers mixing it with chain-smokers and wrist-slashers. We had orphans and arsonists, the soppy and the psycho, the dreamy and he druggy, street urchins with fleas and country bumpkins with lice. We had kids who ate from toilets and kids who swallowed pencils, kids who wrote on the walls of their cell and kids who spoke to the voices in their heads.
    "Some coped, some didn't. Some new starters never recovered from the shock of their first few days in the Institute. Sometimes they'd break down at the marrow-jarring clang of a claviger's club on the bedstead during their first morning wake-up. Or perhaps they'd crinkle at their first sight of the food, or the experience of the induction-day head-shave, or the new uniform issue. The ones who folded early usually stayed folded. They spent their days cowering in paper overalls, rocking backwards and forwards in one of the special units.
    "Most of us found some way to live. For the smart ones like me, who'd known the Institute and all its brother organisations for most of our lives, settling into the Institute was like putting on a pair of new shoes. There was a bit of pain at first, but after a few weeks you'd forgotten it had ever been any different. We knew how life was lived and needed no other person to help us."
    the base premise is a group of characters who escape from the institute where young adults are imprisoned. we may put our own twist on this setting (for instance, it could be a penitentiary or an experimental laboratory, the genre may be realistic or cyberpunk or low sci-fi) as well as develop our own dynamics between the characters (they could be in a gang within the institute, or thrown together by outstanding circumstances) but the plot would strike a certain balance between the characters' escape journey and their interpersonal relationships.
    one way we could play this out is in a ttrpg-inspired style, with certain character stats having a fixed value and using the throw of a dice to determine the character's success at completing one task per set unit of time. for instance, we could designate three hours to be one "cycle"; within each cycle, we would aim to complete one task (either one task per character or as a group), and we would use these stats and the throw of a dice to determine our success. too many failures would incur a penalty, such as being discovered by pursuers. the plot would then move along based on the outcomes of these tasks.

  • A x C O M P R E H E N S I V E x G U I D E x T O x C U L T S x O F x T H E x M I D W E S T
    a group of characters, each having escaped from a different cult one way or another, but not before being touched by their patron god and having an ability bestowed upon them. we can develop the plot based on what we want out of this roleplay.
    i have two characters for this; one with the power to weaponise their blood as long as they are the one to draw it (ie. making a blood sacrifice to their patron god) and one with the ability to bestow blessings or curses just by speaking them out loud.

  • [ inspired by shows such as NCIS, Blue Bloods, Criminal Minds, Bones, etc. ]
    a casual mystery/thriller plot where the roleplay follows a group of private investigators (2-3 characters per person) and the mysteries they solve. the mysteries could be framed as a short, one-episode-a-week tv show style, or an ongoing investigation with multiple threads that tie together. we would also focus on the relationships between the characters.
    yes acab! but please allow me to appropriate their occupations for my own entertainment

let me finish this post with a huge word bank of my fandoms and general interests:
hannibal ; marvel cinematic universe ; over the garden wall ; stranger things ; supernatural ; american elsewhere ; broken monsters ; american gods ; neverwhere ; it ; picnic on hanging rock ; the call ; the thirteenth tale
superheroes / superpowers ; worldbuilding ; villains ; supernatural monsters ; gods ; angels ; horror ; survival ; dark academia ; dares ; magic ; schools ; normalcy in crazy / difficult situations ; romance ; mystery ; murder ; angst ; secret agents ; betrayal ; enemies to friends / friends to lovers ; hardasses softening ; unexpected relationships / pairings ; fairy courts ; abduction ; good people forced into bad situations ; monsters ; unrequited love ; mythology ; creepy rituals ; cyberpunk ; underworld ; genius loci ; mafia ; bodyguards ; complicated plots ; small cities ; creepy settings ; urban fantasy ; road trips​
barnes


more plots will be added as i think of them

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C A L x W I L D E R

criminal profiler xx outfit xx #6183a6

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I S A D O R A x A R G E N T

technical analyst xx outfit xx #fb9795

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E L S P E T H x T H O R N L E Y

forensic scientist xx outfit xx #e7ab4b

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It was common for the CBI to ship them out to crime scenes, so Cal was familiar with the procedure. He had his own routine by now, preferring to hang back to help with loading the equipment onto the plane. Along with his own things, he had also been put in charge of Isadora's equipment; the hotheaded kid had happily handed her huge case of tech bits over to him with instructions to "Be very careful because this shit costs more than your dinky little apartment and I'll have you paying mortgages out your ass if you drop it!" Which of course in Isadora speak meant thank you, I'm so very grateful for your assistance. Cal knew her well enough. The last one to board the plane, he took the opportunity to hide in a seat at the back, stretch his legs out, and take a snooze. Nobody would miss him or his company if he went missing for a short two hours, and since he'd looked through the folder before boarding the plane he wasn't missing out on anything much.

Isadora, on the other hand, was feeling antsy. She slumped into the seat beside Elspeth, pulling out her personal laptop from the messenger bag slung across her front. This laptop was her pride and joy; a normal-looking portable workspace until it was opened to reveal the host of programmes and protection coded into it, not to mention all the extra hardware wired into its guts. It could have been used to hack into the electrical grid, or even the Department of Defense's system if Isadora was feeling gutsy enough. But right now, it was being used to play a series of cat videos.

"Not scared of flying, are you?" Elspeth asked, glancing over at the screen. Isadora shrugged, scowling at the image of a particularly feisty kitten.

"No! It's just been a while, that's all. Usually I'm holed up in the lab with both feet firmly on the ground. Not up in the air with my things bumping around in the hold. And I don't get why they're sending me to some backwater podunk town that probably doesn't even know what a motherboard is. They probably still use Microsoft 95 or worse, they still have everything shelved away in manila files. That's the only anti-hacking measure these days. They'll be the only system that can keep me out, and it'll be because there is no system to hack." Having finished her tirade as abruptly as it began, she shut the videos off, pulling up a game instead. Elspeth had no idea what it was, only that it involved a lot of shooting and Isadora repeatedly stabbing at her keyboard.

The game had apparently placated Isadora, because she seemed much calmer by the time the plane touched down. She did make Cal carry her computer stuff again, but she didn't yell at him about it, and he made sure to load it as carefully as he could into the back of the SUV. Strapping it down securely earned him a stiff nod of approval. Anyone who said Isadora was hard to work with had clearly never tried, because Cal had her all figured out.

Unfortunately the team couldn't even have a proper welcome at the station; upon their arrival, they were diverted to a freshly discovered crime scene at the farms. "We've got our work cut out for us," Elspeth sighed at the news. Looking at a crime scene in person was always better than staring at pictures and reports, but this was really an unusual case, considering Ferndale's crime rate.

The moment the cars pulled to a stop outside the Fairchild farm, Elspeth was off like a shot, shucking her coat off and snapping her booties on, flashing her credentials at the deputies guarding the scene, and making a beeline for the bodies. Camera at the ready, she started snapping the requisite photos of the scene, although it was significantly tainted by the presence of carrion birds, and the various sets of footprints that surrounded the bodies. Judging by the solid tread, probably left by the people who'd discovered the scene, or the deputies that had arrived to seal it shut. "This guy's definitely not a doctor," she commented in Nancy's direction, leaning down to get a better shot of the inflicted injuries.

Isadora remained in the car. She'd spent most of the ride over glaring out the windows at the expanse of fields and farmhouses rushing by, and now she opened the passenger door, swinging her legs over so she could look at the crime scene over her laptop, already open. Cal stopped to give her a look. "You could at least pretend to be interested in the scene instead of playing video games right in front of the Sheriff," he said, vaguely reproachfully.

"I'm not playing video games." She shot him a poisonous look. "I'm looking up similar M.O.s and digging through the online records of the town history to see if any red flags pop up. This freak probably hasn't gone completely unnoticed, if he is from Ferndale."

"Alright. Good work," Cal replied, unruffled. He patted her shoulder, and turned towards Baek-hyun, gesturing for them to greet the Sheriff together.

"Sheriff Trujillo?" he called out to the man as he approached, holding a hand out. "I'm Cal Wilder with the CBI. I'm a criminal profiler, or investigator. That's Brandon Ji and Hayleigh Cheyenne with me, also profilers, and our techs Nancy, Elspeth, and Isadora." He gestured around at each person as he introduced them. At least Nancy and Elspeth were making themselves busy; Isadora, he noticed, had shifted her attention from the scene to the Sheriff and his deputies, eyeing them carefully. Cal supposed it was normal for her to feel defensive in new environments, considering the comments she frequently received on her age, but he wished she would stop looking like she was ready to tear someone's throat out with her teeth. Sensitivity training just did not work on the girl.

He turned back to the Sheriff. "Why don't you walk me through this," he tilted his chin at the crime scene, "and what's been going on so far? And your eyewitnesses, too? We'll want to talk to them again." The nap on the plane had done him well, evidently. Cal was ready to leap into this weirdness.

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shijie

shijie by barnes

this universe is so large, and you are only one.

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shijie

shijie by barnes

this universe is so large, and you are only one.

shijie

this universe is so large, and you are only one.

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