Announcements: Initiative: Promoting Forum Roleplay » Universe of the Month! » Finding Universes to Join (and making yours more visible!) » Guide To Universes On RPG » Starter Locations & Prompts for Newcomers » RPG Chat — the official app » USERNAME CHANGES » Suggestions & Requests: THE MASTER THREAD »

Latest Discussions: Iskjerne Ballad by dealing_with_it » Viking Music / Norse Songs - Germanic Paganism » Capitalism » Panspermia: a Case for Cordyceps » The Ethics on owning a Housepet » I just really had to share this plot idea. » Materialism » Satire & Comedy » Platonic numbers » No complaints (a little bit of rappin) » Any multi-player roleplay videogamers here? » Needing a woman's perspective on a concept » Gluts and Gaps » Universal Basic Income » Impending Pursuit Q&A » Eudaimonia » Loot! » Natural Kinds » I have a funny idea » Life in the 21st century. »

Players Wanted: DEAD! » Looking for new RP Buddy(s)! » Sands of Oblivion » Looking for Role Players to join an active universe » Looking for Empire of Cendalia Players » Seeking Roleplayers for The Isekai Wonderland Project » Hadean The Brave - Fresh Blood » Just a trophy of status - long term, story focus! » Kingdom come looking for roleplayers » The Last Dragon! » Roleplay Return for 1 x 1 » Players wanted for a science fiction adventure. » Players needed for Fantasy Romance reboot » One(1) male & Two(2) Female Roles OPEN <3 » Talmora: Kingdom of magic » Looking For A New Partner » Hellboy characters » 18+ Writing Partner [Fantasy, Romance, Etc.] » 18+, Multi-Para to Novella Writers please! » Looking for roleplayers »


Carl Benison

"You've got two choices. Either you drop your weapon or I make you drop it."

0 · 445 views · located in City of Lost

a character in “Revolution | noituloveR”, as played by Cypher


Carl Mitchell Benison


He doesn't really have a nickname, but when not referring to him as 'Carl' or 'Benison' people call him Mitch.

An interesting age for an officer of the law, but the GWTF needed a younger man to infiltrate the Synx, and Benison was one of two 'youngsters' that were available at the time.


He's had a lot of experience with a lot of women in the past, and very few of them have ended well. A life of mistreatment and heartache has left him sour and disillusioned with love and romance and sick of intimate companionship in any and every way.

Love Interest:
His first and foremost loyalty is, and always has been, to the Law.

Metropolitan Police, Gang Warfare Task Force, Undercover Division - Synx Unit

Cold, calm, aloof, collected - these are a few words that have been used to describe Benison in the past. He is a soft-spoken man of few words, preferring to let his actions and stance speak for him. When he does speak, he comes off as morose, almost sad. This is reflected in his face, which is kept meticulously emotionless except for a noted downward crease in the corners of his mouth and eyes. He is very slow to anger, and difficult to please, and never seems genuinely complacent or happy with everything. The police force pretty much raised him, and he has never really been able to form proper, meaningful connections with people - indeed, he doesn't know his parents or if he has any siblings, so those who took him in became his family. He has few bonds with people, so those who manage to connect with him have gained a steadfast ally for life, and woe to those who stand in his way. He has little regard for his own life most of the time and is willing to die to uphold the Law and end the fighting, without a second thought. That said, he still manages to maintain his cover as a gang member fairly well; his upbringing left him streetwise enough to get by. All in all, he seems to be a relative nonentity - he doesn't really give off a foreboding aura, but he isn't all that welcoming, either. He shuns any attempt to get inside his head and will refuse to allow people to try and cheer him up. Mostly keeps to himself. Prone to bouts of violence when enraged, however - but these fits are always very calculated and planned, without any unnecessary risks.

He keeps a pair of low-caliber sidearms in shoulder holsters beneath his satin jacket (his preferred weapon is the Walther P99, chambered in .40 S&W); not for dual wielding so much as for the convenience of not having to reload. He has a boot knife strapped to his ankle as well. Other than that he is more prone to using his surroundings as weapons - fenceposts, bent pipes, tables, you get the gist of it. His apartment has several long guns stocked in it should the need arise - namely, a Springfield M1A SOCOM, a Mossberg Rolling Thunder, a Magpul PDR and several crates of ammunition, all kept in hidden compartments beneath the floorboards of the apartment.

At one point in time, Benison was a fairly prolific figure in local graffiti at one point in time, and certain walls around the district where he grew up can be found at least partially adorned with his visage.

The hammer in the above photographs is a reference to a particularly brutal murder he was involved in. The details are few and far between, given that it has mostly faded from public interest - a tribute to humanity's ability to move forward and forget things - but the symbol stayed.

Carl can play the harmonica.

Carl can speak some Spanish and some Chinese, although both are very shoddy.

Carl is slightly farsighted, although he doesn't wear corrective lessons.

He walks with a slight limp. His right femur was broken in two places when he fell from a fourth story fire escape into a dumpster; due to the nature of his having gotten to the fire escape he couldn't see a legitimate doctor and so had to settle for simple street medicine.

Although his paycheck includes standard hazard rates for an undercover mission, Carl's apartment is unfurnished with the exception of a small television and a (minimally) padded folding chair. Most of his belongings can fit into a duffel bag, which he keeps in a corner of the room, hidden from view.

He recently started to quit smoking, and as such has begun to fill the gap in his lips with toothpicks, lollipops, rolled up pieces of paper, anything really to keep himself fooled. This has led some to believe he has an oral fixation. Imply this to him and you may well be hit in the face.

As officers are not informed of the identity of other GWTF plants in gangs, only of their presence, Carl does not know that Dominik is the other worm.

Theme Song:
Nightcall - Kavinsky (Bordeaux By Night Remix)

So begins...

Carl Benison's Story


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Carl Benison Character Portrait: Viyoletta Saphrina
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Cypher
Carl Benison

'Well,' Carl Benison thought to himself, 'This could be trouble.'

Outwardly the police agent's posture hadn't shifted an inch, his half-lidded eyes and relaxed sitting stance inviting no gazes, arousing no suspicion. Inwardly, however, his mind wheeled around. So, Questin was onto him and Agent Bravo. This could present a problem for the whole operation - now that everyone was under scrutiny, he would have to operate even more carefully. Not that he was actively subverting the organisation, not yet - for now it was too early to make a move. Right now was just information gathering, scouting, getting an estimate on how difficult the future would prove - testing the waters, so to speak. And right now, those waters were coming to a boil.

When Questin finished his speech, luckily not ordering his band of thugs to wantonly murder each-other on the vaguest pretense of being a mole, Benison didn't relax, didn't let out a held breath, didn't blink after endless minutes of staring wide-eyed at the stage. Instead, he casually stood up, stretched his sore back, adjusted his denim shirt and slowly pulled his white satin coat over his shoulders, the dirty fabric reflecting the dim light of the day's end. He carefully adjusted his shoulder holsters beneath the coat, then zipped it over them and slipped his hands into his pockets, his boots clicking over the rough ground. As he passed a streetlamp, he noticed a slight something amiss - a random black fleece coat hanging from a lamp post. It looked slightly familiar when he thought about it, but his mind couldn't place exactly where he'd seen it before.

Then it hit him. He'd seen the young one, Viyoletta, wearing it earlier. Carl quickly scanned the premises and, sure enough, there was Viyoletta, looking lost and distinctly jacket-less. Carl plucked the jacket off of the lamp-post and walked over to her, holding the coat aloft. "Did you forget this, Vi?" He said plaintively, giving the coat a light shake.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Carl Benison Character Portrait: Viyoletta Saphrina
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

Viyoletta Saphrina

Viyoletta was barely resisting the urge to tremble as the cold air cooled her skin. Her face was blank and emotionless as it always was. No one would know that she was on the verge of tears.

"Did you forget this, Vi?" She whirled around at the voice and saw Carl Benison holding out her jacket. Gratitude filled her and she took it from him quickly, slipping it on over her thin shoulders. The imediate warmth was heavenly and she let a rare smile cross her normally cross face.

"Thanks," She said quietly looking up to the older man. He, she tolerated. Carl wasn't an idiot and Viyo thought their conversations weren't half bad. "I have a habit of forgetting where I put my stuff." She muttered quietly before rubbing her hands together. It was so soft against her skin... It must have cost so much. Viyoletta glanced back at Carl. "Thanks for giving it to me." She never thanked people much but this was a birthday gift from her brother and it would have really hurt to have lost it. Now that she thought about it, it was her birthday today. Viyo stifled a sigh, though her eyes darkened miserably. She had turned fifteen and there was no one to celebrate it with. How pathetic...

"Well, I'll see you around, Carl." Viyo said starting to walk away.


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Carl Benison Character Portrait: Viyoletta Saphrina
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK

#, as written by Cypher
Carl Benison

Carl leaned back against the lamp-post that was formerly taken by Vi's jacket. He didn't mind her terribly, she seemed awfully withdrawn most of the time, kept to herself. It was strange that she was so young, but then again that was a lot of what street life was made up of - you join young and probably die young as well. It was a tragedy, one that the Law sought to prevent from happening. She was clever though, there was a chance she may survive for a while. Secretly Carl hoped she wouldn't get killed in the upcoming events. Maybe he would warn her about it when it was going to happen - no, too risky. And stupid. He sighed, biting the toothpick in his mouth softly and secretly wishing it was a cigarette butt. He'd just barely dodged a cancer bullet at one point from smoking those goddamn coffin nails, he wasn't going to risk it again - but damn, he missed his Virginia Slims.

'Topic change. Get your mind off of things, you'll start to look conspicuous.'

Carl focused on Vi's jacket. It had looked fairly new, where had she gotten it? Robbery was out; he'd been keeping track of the police scanners in his apartment and no clothing store robberies had taken place over the last few days. Was it a gift? Perhaps, but what was the occasion? Birthday, maybe? 'Hm.'

"Vi, is it your birthday?" Carl shifted his weight away from the lamp-post, moving slowly after Vi, his hands deep in his coat pockets. "If you wanted to get a coffee or something, as a gift, you know, I just got my paycheck the other day, there's just enough scrap left over for a cup or two down the street." He shrugged impassively. As a cover for his police finances he received a check for minimum wage from a dummy company - a low profile food outlet, independent and inconspicuous enough not to merit any attention - that was just enough to pay upkeep on the apartment and have a little left over for frivolities, just like any other working stiff. It was a clever plan.

"If you just want to, you know, hang out." He shrugged impassively. "Up to you."


Characters Present

Character Portrait: Carl Benison Character Portrait: John Arnold Character Portrait: Demetre Saphrina Character Portrait: Tomomi Ute Character Portrait: Aurora Justice Character Portrait: Eli Crues Character Portrait: Viyoletta Saphrina
Tag Characters » Add to Arc »

0.00 INK


The girl looked at him sharply, her daze almost boring holes into his own. Why would he randomly ask her that? How did he know? Viyo stayed silent for a moment. Carl didn't seem like a bad person. She hesitated. However, it was free. Only an idiot would pass up an offer like that.

"Sure, I guess." Viyo answered, her voice quiet, barely hiding her suspicion. It was a bad habit to be so paranoid but... She couldn't really help it. That's what happened when you lived like this. She was a gang member. Vioy pulled the fleece around her tighter. "Okay,"

She started walking slowly into the direction of the neareset coffee shop. She lived with this other older Sinx member. She brought home guys a lot and Viyo tried to avoid being there as much as possible. It was kind of scary to have such older men leering at you like a starving animal. Hopefully, she it wouldn't be too cold to sleep outside tonight.


Demetre grinned and saluted mockingly. "I know just the place then. Italian it is." Thank God. He hated Mexican food. "The owner of that place totally owes me. We'll get a decent meal tonight." The white haired guy started leading the way, taking Tomomi's hand in his larger one. He didn't really have a crush or anything, he was just a very physical person that thought nothing of a little contact.

"Come on, John." He grinned at the other Dayze member. "You may go to sleep with a full belly for once." He glanced back and nodded at Eli and Aurora. "Let's hurry up, it's getting a little chilly out." He looked out at the setting sun and smiled. Food.. he hasn't eaten in a while. Maybe that's why he'd been feeling pretty depressed lately. That wasn't like him.. Demetre rolled his shouldlers. Now wasn't really the time to ponder these things. He could think when he was alone.