[hider=Delvin Crawford] [center][img]https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/236x/68/e3/e7/68e3e7c7e8c60fe241086d3a79929085.jpg[/img][/center] [b]Name:[/b] [color=gold]Delvin Crawford[/color] [b]Gender:[/b] Male [b]Species:[/b] Australian Raven [b]Height:[/b] 5’7” [b]Weight:[/b] 113lbs. [b]Personality:[/b] Overtly selfish and rarely on edge, Delvin understands and embraces the dog-eat-dog mentality that defines the world in this age. He has a notably weak moral compass and has no qualms about killing, though he actively avoids open conflict. He’s a bit of an alcoholic and is a noted kleptomaniac. He also has an addiction to nicotine and usually has at least a full pack of cigarettes on him at all times. It should be noted that he takes verbal flak extremely well. Delvin is also on the lookout for replacement parts for his chopper constantly, and will usually pay well for them. [b]History:[/b] Born and raised in New Earlton, Delvin Crawford grew up watching gangs come and go like the wind. Few ever stayed around more than a year, and even less made it that long. But anyhow, he had something of a rough upbringing. Sure, he lived in one of the better parts of the city, but this is a place ridden with crime that corrupts even the best people. With a druggie of a mother and a paranoid father, the bird was largely forced to learn the city himself. Soon enough, as it always does in an Anarchy, tragedy struck. One night in Delvin’s teens, his mother died of a heroin overdose, and his father quickly became a grim figure. For the few days the body remained, the patriarch of the Crawford family was busy making plans. Out of nowhere he left with the mother’s body, leaving a note and a handgun. The note simply read [i][b]“Good luck, Delvin. If I don’t return, you’re in charge.”[/b][/i] He never did come back, and the years started to pass in a blur. Soon enough, Delvin Crawford was in his late twenties and running with a small gang that lacked any real authority. The two things running for them was the complete domination of a small strip of road and a skilled mechanic that could make anything into a vehicle. Then, as a coup was staged within the group to seize power, the lone raven among them had a sort of midlife crisis, in which he turned on his brothers and eliminated them all within the hour. All except the mechanic, his one actual friend. Handing over all the crowns he had saved up, the avian requested the mechanical secrets his friend had. Months of lessons later, the two parted peacefully. A handmade bike under him, Delvin had a world to scavenge and payment to accept. For the moment, he was content putting his keen eye to work searching for the gems that rodents overlooked constantly. Though like any living being, he grew restless. Now, he turns to the Hole and occasionally the Hawthornes for work, glad for all the odd jobs that never get talked about afterwards. [b]Equipment:[/b] -[url=https://pixabay.com/static/uploads/photo/2015/06/03/00/59/chopper-795948_960_720.jpg]Motorcycle[/url], armored to survive gunfire and blunt weaponry, and stabilized for combat. Keys are always on Delvin’s person in a zippered and locked pocket. -Gasmask, fitted for avians. Always kept on his person, along with at least three spare filters. -One steel lighter, kept on a chain around his neck. -[url=http://vignette3.wikia.nocookie.net/fistful-of-frags-weapon-stats/images/e/e6/Fof_mare's_leg.JPG/revision/latest?cb=20150303132554]1887 Mare’s Leg[/url]. A light, lever-action sawed-off shotgun, ideal for close quarters combat and flip cocking. Kept in a holster on his bike. -[url=http://www.gunlistings.org/uploads/37121_20101212182300_2.jpg]Jericho 941.[/url] A powerful yet concealable semi-automatic handgun, stored in a holster on Delvin’s right leg. -One [url=http://s574.photobucket.com/user/metlman1/media/display/image-4.jpg.html]knuckle knife.[/url] A long knife with brass knuckles built into the handle, ideal for most situations. Usually kept next to his handgun in a sheath. -A seemingly bottomless pack of menthol shorts, kept in his bike’s saddle bags. -Vehicle repair kit, complete with a blowtorch, three different wrenches, a flat head screwdriver, and wire cutters. Stored in the bike’s saddle bags. -Scavenger’s kit, complete with a breaching tool, bolt cutters, and a crowbar. Stored in the bike’s saddle bags. [b]Other:[/b] -Delvin hasn’t mastered any fancy kinds of martial arts, but he can handle himself well in a fist fight. -On any given day, he’ll usually wear a gray t-shirt and black jeans, along with a signature vest with who knows how many patches on it. The most notable of said patches is a “1%-er” patch on his shoulder. He’s also owns a pair of blacked-out goggles. -He’s surprisingly tough and his mind is always at work, although he’s somewhat limited when it comes to mobility. That said, he can run just as well as the next guy, he just isn’t suited for climbing quickly. [/hider] [hider=Emily King] [center][img]http://static1.e926.net/data/1c/c5/1cc5be1ae33bc09cbeccfe2bdcbc1ffb.jpg[/img][/center] [b]Name:[/b] [color=cyan]Emily King[/color] [b]Gender:[/b] Female [b]Species:[/b] Shortfin Mako [b]Age:[/b] 22 [b]Height:[/b] 5’8” [b]Weight:[/b] 128lbs. [b]Personality:[/b] Young, spunky, and sadistic, Emily King is ready to take the world head on and take out anyone in her path. She’s aggressive and cannot be stopped by traditional means. Long story short, she’ll fight until she draws her last breath, and will do so with glee. It should be noted that she’s a psychopath with a bloodlust and is prone to violent mood swings, ranging from bliss to rage in mere seconds with little warning. That said, she's considered to be mentally unhinged. Ironically, she’s a slight pyromaniac. She also approaches sexual encounters with little concern, since she doesn’t place much value on that level of intimacy. Deep down, though, she has a fear of serious relationships and the damage she could inadvertently cause to one. Aside from that, she doesn’t fear much, and is a great gunman as a result. If she wakes up before noon, that is. [b]Biography:[/b] From the earliest she could remember, Emily King had two mothers. One, being the biological parent, was a fellow shark. The other was an orange tabby cat. In all reality, a pretty typical family. Everyone had a love for what they did, and they got by well enough. A home in the slums of New Earlton, while not a great place to raise children, was a great place to raise a survivor. And that’s exactly what the Kings did. Unfortunately, both parents never really had a method of teaching Emily right from wrong. Sure, she got the jist of it, don’t steal and be nice, but this is New Earlton we’re talking about. Fast forward into Emily’s early teens, she already was starting to present a cruel streak. When a thief broke into the apartment while her parents were out for dinner, the girl’s inner sadist manifested. The poor bastard didn’t expect a little kid to be armed to the teeth. Literally. The hound screamed in agony as his leg was bitten into, followed by a handful of sharp claws tearing through the muscles of his opposite calf. Immobilized and unable to draw a weapon, he was horrified. The girl stood and licked the blood from her teeth, then smiled brightly. For a moment, one could almost see her eyes turn red. She could end it there, go for the throat and put the crippled dog out of his misery. But no, this was the perfect opportunity… For the sake of the more squeamish readers, part of the living room wall had a new coat of red paint by the end of the night. When her mothers got home, they were shocked at the sight. A bloodied and broken Doberman on the floor, and Emily casually laying on the couch, slurping up some ramen noodles out of a cup. She acted as if nothing had gone out of the ordinary, explaining what happened like one would the process for making peanut-butter toast. The moment they could, the family got to a psychologist’s office to have their daughter’s thought process examined. Around a week later, the girl was declared mentally unstable and dangerous. She was allowed to stay at home, given the city they lived in, and continued life as usual. She had, however, acquired something of a taste for blood. When she turned eighteen, she bid her parents farewell and packed up a couple mementoes from her younger years, and left the nest. She quickly found her way to the other side of town and moved into the Hole, always able to pay a few month’s rent at a time. She’s lived above the bar ever since. Now, finally able to live life her way, Emily took to doing odd jobs for all sorts of people. A fair few of these involved torturing some poor bastard for information or over a grudge, but the mako was happy to let her inner sadist out for a couple hours. As long as she got paid to do it, she would. And then someone tried to screw her out of payment. The rat – literally a rat – soon ended up with the shark in a locked room, bound to a wall. Hours of one-sided conversation and concussions later, the rodent died to a gasoline-and-flesh fueled fire. Some say it’s the most painful way to die. Others say it can’t be worse than being shot a few times. These ‘others’ have obviously never met Emily King. She's also eaten someone, but that's a story for another time. Equipment: -[url=http://nazarian.no/images/wep/703_micro_can.JPG ]Ripper[/url]. A standard Micro-Uzi, with an extended magazine and a spring suppressor. This bullet hose is usually kept on Emily’s person inside her hoodie. -[url=http://www.imfdb.org/images/thumb/e/ec/Inoxflipside.jpg/350px-Inoxflipside.jpg]Beretta m9[/url]. All standard, just with a chrome job. Typically kept in a holster on Emily’s left hip. -Kusari-fundo. This simple Japanese weapon consists of nothing more than a long chain, weighted with several padlocks on one end. Blunt trauma at its finest. It’s usually kept in a curled up state on Emily’s right leg. -Messenger bag. Storage for any “finds” made wandering the city. And more than a few instruments of torture that are kept on hand. -Flip phone. Old enough to where it’s a royal pain in the ass to trace, but still functional. -Two water bottles, always kept full and in the messenger bag. -Gasmask, fitted for sharks. Kept in the messenger bag with two spare filters. Other: -Emily can occasionally be seen mixing blood into her drinks, or outright drinking it if it’s available. -She keeps in contact with her parents, calling to chat at least once a week. -Her wardrobe mostly consists of blue tube-tops, black jeans and dark-blue zip-up hoodies. -While not the toughest fighter, she can hold her own quite well and is very quick on her feet. She’s also notably acrobatic. -Favorite color is matte blue. [/hider]