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    1. TK421 8 yrs ago

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Name: Peyton Lee
Age: 18
Gender: Male
Race: Pure Mortal (or so he believes)

Physical Description: brown hair and blazing blue eyes, and always quick with a charming smile. Peyton stands six feet even and has all the characteristics of a multi-sport jock (a toned body, quick feet, and broad shoulders). His choice of clothing ranges from sports jerseys to Star Wars to plain t-shirts, all coupled with blues jeans and a good pair of boots (sneakers were always for the sports, never for regular wear). but the one thing he always wears, his mother's brown leather jacket (no matter the weather).

Personality: Having traveled frequently Peyton is some what of an introvert, knowing that in no time at all, he would be leaving those behind that he just met. Once he opens up, however, Peyton is caring and willing to take lead. He likes to joke, and not take life too seriously.

History: Peyton lost his mother when he was a child, though it was never confirmed by family that she died, they just said she was "gone". So, naturally Peyton grew attached to his father -- they traveled frequently, never staying long in one place, so it came as a shock when his father decided to settle down in Eagle Rock as a Park Ranger for YellowStone. Unfortunately that's when tragedy struck, and Peyton's father died -- the Park Rangers said he was mauled by a bear, though his body was not found in the park proper. This left Peyton with little choice but to find a job, and try to work his way through college. With limited choices in a small town like Eagle Rock, Peyton managed to scrape up a job at Trade Winds (one of those stores that claims to heal people through nature).

Skills: Persuasion, Diplomacy, Athletics

Powers: None

Other: Mother's Brown Leather Jacket is stitched with various symbols, who's meanings Peyton has never deciphered
for consideration...

ALEXANDER "LEX" GOODSPEED
Age: 18
Height: 6'1
Weight: 204
Nationality: American
Appearance: http://1.bp.blogspot.com/-8RBdcGFkbX0/TbXnjVB4tOI/AAAAAAAAAN8/LckRCv38nas/s1600/01_Cos_Clu_sml.jpg
Bio: Lex comes from a long line of racing fanatics -- the family came to fame in the early part of century in the once well known racing association, called NASCAR. The family prospered until the economy tanked and all went downhill. While exploring his grandfather's property Lex came upon an abandoned car in the woods. It was an old Chevy Impala, still with it's "racing stripes" on it. Having viewed Risk Rally for the past several years Lex knew that this car was left here for a reason. With help from several friends Lex got the car back up and running and is now set to take it to the open road.
Theme Song: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yIr0cLO_FEQ

OVERDRIVE
https://dn3pm25xmtlyu.cloudfront.net/photos/large/333754747.jpg?1309373630&Expires=1454960688&Signature=MVuplUit1QnSa40wOtdRvcicevXdPZl0Axj2IvwkfTYWqEtkhOC1yQB70IhlYq3Ky9BeHNJdSACSGRsUn6hcCC46GScn11rDWCkLx5qDjLmszQhvewzyKiCa4EFLRj7amfzsrXe9oKka59FJ6APMbmpSxi5UkyMKp9sBVxLDd0Y_&Key-Pair-Id=APKAIYVGSUJFNRFZBBTA
Firepower: 6
Frame: 12
Grip: 12
Acceleration: 12
Top Speed: 13
Built for speed is meant to outstrip the competition, not mow people down with firepower. What weapons it is equipped with are purely defensive.
squee ... just saw this ... too late to join? i'd like to play quidditch
Indeed, interest you have it. Count me a member the squad
The pic is the LAST thing I look for.

I don't want a picture to disrupt the character idea I have in my head. Sure I may go back and edit a few minor details to reflect the picture I eventually use, but this is rare.

I usually start with a name and let things guide me from there. The name, to men, opens the proverbial world. Origin of the name, and what it means, then helps me define their characteristics. I may spend hours alone searching for a name. Some names come easier to me -- like one of my favorite characters, his name is Kennedy. He was almost a copy of the wrestler known as Mr. Kennedy, AKA Mr. Anderson. But other names, like Ode (a half-orc barbarian), I spent serious time looking into.

Once the character is built, it is only then that I find my picture.
hope you don't mind em jumping in
Thomas

It was cold. It was always cold in the hospital. Cold, and sterile.

"Damn doctors. Don't know shit about anything. Waste of money. Losy ..." Thomas muttered to himself as he walked out of Room 417. Mom was no better than before. Skin was looking blotchy and jaundice had set in around her eyes and mouth. And her veins. Lord her veins. Swelling in size and making her skin look almost blue. Made it hard to even look at her.

The only good thing was that she didn't appear to be in pain. Sure they had to give her 20ccs of some gawd-awfully-expensive drug, but at least she was asleep, finally. She hadn't slept in three days. Insomnia they were calling it due to the virus that was obviously raking her body. But damn if they weren't stumped on what virus she really had.

'Call House,' Thomas had cried at one point. Yeah the he knew the doctor was only on TV, but surely there had to be a diagnostician somewhere in Mother of Mercy Hospital. He had left that day in such a rage that he dented the south stairwell exit door with his foot. The dent was no longer there today. "Ha!" he cried. All the money goes to making things look all pristine. But nothing can be done for the patients that reside within. Wonderful! This pissed him off even further. So he kicked the door with his steel-toed black boot, left a dent again, and then punched out the light above the door for good measure.

He felt a little better as he exited out onto into the first floor corridor. The tile was freshly polished, and the maintenance man could be seen down near reception installing a new sign. Thomas made sure to pass by the other man and commented, "someone's abusing your building," and hooked a thumb at the southern stairwell.

"Thanks," drawled the maintenance guy in some Middle Eastern accent.

---

Though the sun was out, it was hard to know exactly where it was behind all the tall buildings. But damn if it didn't reflect off the buildings and blind you anyways. Thomas followed Jefferson St. north towards Commerce Blvd. and took a right. Five blocks later he was finally at FastLane.

"Where the hell have you been?" bellowed his boss John Russell, a fat, and mostly lazy, man in his mid-fifties. He was hardly a large man. No, he was the next level up. Gabriel Iglesias said it best, John ranged around the 5th level of Fatness, "DAMN!" He was once skinny, old photos of him were all around the shop , most of them encompassing a prized 2nd level racing trophy that he'd one 'back in the good old days.' But an accident (which was well documented in his office) left him with a bad leg -- and apparently an unquenchable hunger, John was always eating something. Today it was a Pastrami sandwich on Rye, extra everything; some of which was speckled on his shirt and face.

"I told you Mr. Russell," yes, Thomas was formal -- forced formal, but formal nonetheless. "I told you yesterday I was going to see my mother at the hospital. I even put it in writing like you asked." Thomas was trying to control his anger. His fist was aching from being clenched so tightly.

"Never saw it" John Russell said dismissively. "You're fined $300 for being late," he noted sternly. "And if you're late again, you're fired."

"You can't do that!" Thomas roared back.

"Oh I can't?" John Russell's eyes bore daggers. "All you inmates are all the same. You think you're above everyone's laws and rules. One day you'll see that the rules apply to YOU too." John turned on the spot and returned to his office, slamming the door behind him.

Thomas banged his fist against a nearby tool cabinet. "Damn him!" me muttered. "One day he'll get his," he said to Luis, another ex-con who worked at the shop.

"Wouldnt be FastLane if Mr. Russell wasn't yelling at someone," Luis added, "ey Tommy?"

"Life in the FastLane," Thomas mildly chuckled quoting the shop's slogan.
http://ia.media-imdb.com/images/M/MV5BMTI1ODM3NTIxM15BMl5BanBnXkFtZTcwMzYyODY4MQ@@._V1_UY317_CR23,0,214,317_AL_.jpg
Name: Thomas Reid
Occupation: Car Mechanic
Face claim: Dominic Purcell
Bio: Thomas is an petty criminal, having done short stints in several county lock-ups across the country. Nothing major: B&E, trespassing, and the like. He recently found out his mom was struck with a bizarre illness. With no one else to turn to, he had to find a job and pay for her medical care. [i]FastLane[ Auto/i] hired him on a six month probationary stint.
@TK421Alrighty. Issues first.
1) The picture doesn't work. Either fix it or get rid of it.
2) Does Payton actually go to school at the moment or is he just working to save for college? You were slightly vague about that.
But other than that you're good to go.

Obviously you have something hinky in Peyton's background. If you don't want anyone to know, you can PM me the addition information. What I'd like to know about is:
A) The Father's death
B) The mother's disappearance
C) The symbols on the jacket.


1) I'll just remove the pic

2) Peyton's intention is to go to school. So he's working full time at Trade Winds and trying to go full-time at the college.

A) I was inspired by FateWeaver's (a la Fool Moon) character background, and thought that perhaps Peyton's father was killed by a lycanthrope. Which variety of were-type is up to you. His father incidentally was a Park Ranger in Yellowstone.

B) Gaining more inspiration from a Dresden novel, I thought that Peyton's mother could either be a sorceress on the run, or a member of either the Red (or Fellowship of Saint Giles [depending on the chronology of the game]) or White Vampire court. Again, I am willing to give you creative liberty on which one.

C) The symbols must be something archaic -- if Peyton's mother is a witch, then maybe they're protective spells. Should she be a vampire, then perhaps a clue to where she is currently hiding.

Again, I'm flexible with any of this. And willing to take suggestions.
That would suck.
Did you get my PM?
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