Hidden 3 mos ago 3 mos ago Post by Roman
Raw
OP
Avatar of Roman

Roman King of Dirt

Member Seen 2 hrs ago

S O N O F S A T A N


D A I M O N H E L S T R O M O C C U L T I N V E S T I G A T O R N E W Y O R K C I T Y I N D E P E N D E N T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T:


"Bullets? Really? Do you know who I am?"

One day, Victoria Helstrom was whisked into a whirlwind romance beyond her dreams, wooed and seduced by a charismatic, charming gentleman. Their affair was passionate, but inevitably short-lived, and soon Victoria was left alone with infant twins, brother and sister, Daimon and Ana. Life from then on would be difficult, but manageable, and while they had their differences as individuals, the three held firm as a family, taking care of each other and holding love between them.

Then Daimon and Ana turned eighteen, and everything changed. Dark, powerful magic awakened within them both, and their father suddenly reappeared, not having aged a day in the near two-decades since he'd abandoned them, and he returned with momentous news: his human form was a mere illusion, and in truth he was the King of Hell, Satan, The Devil Himself, and he had come to claim Daimon and Ana and grant them their birthright as heirs to the demonic throne. Victoria, for her part, was driven mad, and while Ana - who had dreamed of achieving greatness her entire life - was more than happy to welcome such incredible power, Daimon held nothing but contempt for this presumptuous creature who had invaded his mother's life so many years ago, just to abandon his family and only return to tear it asunder once again. Unlocking his powers of magic and hellfire, Daimon waged considerable battle against his father - eventually, the demon conceded, returning to Hell without Daimon, but with Ana by his side.

In the fallout, Daimon devoted himself to occult investigation, seeking how to strike back at his father and return his sister to Earth, and in the process discovered that his father wasn't Satan at all. Instead, the pool of demons who could have sired him was broad indeed, and whoever his father really was had merely impersonated Satan in a bid to falsely fulfil the prophecy of an Antichrist, who would overthrow the ruler of Hell. Daimon and Ana had merely been pawns in a foolish game of demonic politics, and Daimon cared very little for it.

Now, Daimon works as a freelance investigator, dealing in small personal matters and occult cases, while on the side he continues his research into his true father and the safe return of his sister. Uninterested in his 'birthright' and the machinations of devils, he has little patience for the denizens of Hell who continue to pester him, or indeed anyone in general.

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S:





S A M P L E P O S T:

Daimon was certain, more than anything previously in his still-short life, that turning eighteen wasn't supposed to entail almost any of the things that his eyes currently beheld.

The room in front of him was aflame, the walls painted with an eerie orange glow from the fires that crawled along the floor and up the walls. The blaze was already spilling from the doorframe into the upper-story landing, and soon after the entire house would be alight in an inferno that would claim nearly everything Daimon held dear to his heart; the only thing left unscathed would be Victoria, his devoted mother, but even she would be warped into a shell of the strong, steadfast women he had felt protected by his entire childhood. Within the room - his sister's room, he recalled, distinctly remembering watching the various posters and photos curling up from the corners as the flames licked at the paper.

A dark circle appeared to be burned into the floorboards, and on it stood the twisted, hellish creature that had once masqueraded as Daimon's father, a rippling figure of red flesh and stained bone. Multiple eyes, mismatched and strewn across a misshapen face that was more of beast than of man, narrowed in seething rage against his erstwhile heir. In one clawed hand the fiend held Ana, Daimon's sister, clothes scorched and face stained with tears and smoke, hanging limp in the devil's clutches.

Daimon's chest burned bright with a newly-branded pentagram, and he moved his hand to scoop out another gout of fire and heft it in his hand; the weight felt good, and the heat was a pleasant warmth against his palm, despite the warped air he could see emanating around it. He looked at his once-father; he looked at Ana, unconscious and injured; he thought of his mother, catatonic on the street. The flame ignited a brilliant blue, and he hurled the blast at the demon full-force.

This was the last thing Daimon could remember of that fateful night - the fire, his mother, Ana, all struck low by the catastrophe wreaked by an infernal devil; a devil whom, mere hours previous, had posed as their father, attempting to woo them away from their home. He had promised power, wealth, longevity, but when Daimon and Ana had protested - had put to him his failure as a father - had decried his apathetic abandonment of them and their mother - he had determined that he would take by force what they would not submit to him willingly. In the end, his father's return only served to tear asunder completely what Daimon had managed to repair in the nearly two decades since his departure: his family.

Daimon worked freelance now, his mother institutionalized, his sister abducted, no structure or alliances left to depend on. He survived, many a dark night spent pondering why - but the answer was always the same: in search of his father. In search of his sister. In search of revenge.

P O S T C A T A L O G:

This section is not necessary, but a procedural listing of your linked posts will make it much easier and more convenient for all involved.
Hidden 3 mos ago 3 mos ago Post by Roman
Raw
OP
Avatar of Roman

Roman King of Dirt

Member Seen 2 hrs ago

J O H N C O N S T A N T I N E
J O H N C O N S T A N T I N E

"S'just the way of it. We all sell our souls sooner or later."
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
_________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
_________________________________________________________
John Thomas Constantine
_________________________________________________________
Caucasian | Unemployed
_________________________________________________________
London | Greater London Area | England

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
_________________________________________________________
P O S T C A T A L O G
P O S T C A T A L O G
_________________________________________________________
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
________________________________________________________________________________________
May 10th, 2004. Mary-Anne Constantine, struggling with a strenuous labour compounded by complications from a previous abortion, passes away while giving birth to John Constantine and his stillborn twin brother. Thomas Constantine, father and suddenly widower, would not forgive the mewling infant for the death of his wife, or the stillbirth of his other son. John would not come to understand this animosity from his only remaining guardian for twelve years; but his older sister, Cheryl Constantine, would pick up on it the same night that Thomas returned home with John. She would spend her days from that point forwards protecting John from the father that had spurned him, pouring into him the love he was otherwise denied.

By the time of his teen years, the bond between Cheryl and John had created an impenetrable barrier against Thomas' drunkenly-hurled abuse and persecution, and was only stronger for the addition of Gary Lester and Francis Kramer to their cabal of found-family. The four of them formed a strong union of friendship, each guarded and guided by the others. They would pursue their interests both independently and as a unit, exploring the new and old of the world around them. The darker aspects of art would become the glue that cemented them together, a deep interest in Punk and Emo, as well as Horror and the Occult, binding them with a common pursuit. Cheryl, oldest of the group, would often guide the four in practice rituals and pretend spells, filling the younger boys' minds with fantasies of weaved magic and sorcery that would fix their fragmented lives and grant them all their teenaged minds could dare to imagine.

When John was seventeen, he would participate in another such ritual lead by Cheryl, one she treated with hitherto unknown gravitas. This one was different, they could all feel it; Cheryl radiated a solemnity that was undeniable, bringing promises of magical power and great fortune that the four boys were compelled to believe in.

The ritual was no fantasy - no pig-english nonsense garbled for cheap thrills, words catching in throats from schoolboy fright - no pound-shop tealights, extinguished accidentally when you waved your arm too enthusiastically. This was the real deal: components scavenged and crafted, specific chants and intonations to be uttered at specific intervals. Words and runes were drawn carefully, positions selected with forethought, and when the hour finally came, all was conjured as it was meant to be - but what the ritual achieved was not what Cheryl had been lead to believe.

Unbeknownst to Cheryl, John, Thomas, or even the departed Mary-Anne, the Constantine's bloodline was one of powerful magic and a specific title passed down through ancestry from one Constantine to the next: the Laughing Magician, a wizard unlike any other, who bent the world to their will through the secret power of synchronicity. It was John's stillborn twin, Jacob, that had been the next to inherit this power - but with Jacob's death, powerful wheels had been set it motion to re-right this broken prophecy. Cheryl's previous rituals had been no mere games - they were in fact practice runs, as Cheryl had secretly uncovered her own witchcraft, granted through her bloodline. The ancestral ghosts of Constantine mages had felt this, and spun lies around Cheryl, tricking her into casting a very special spell.

The ritual, rather than granting power and fortune, instead opened a terrible gateway to the Astral Plane, through which flooded the warped spirits of long-dead Laughing Magicians. They tormented the attendees, lashing them with psychological scars, and abducted Cheryl wholly into their ethereal, limbo-like plane. When the tear closed, Cheryl was gone, and John was left only with the memory of her screaming, pleading face, surrounded by hundred of hideous spectres.

Each in attendance left traumatised, and each experienced their own fallout. Gary turned to drink and drugs, pushing his mind into oblivion rather than live with the memories. Francis fled to London, reinventing himself as 'Chas', a man who'd never experienced such terror. John, for his part, found his psyche fracturing completely, reeling from the loss of Cheryl, and ended up committed and incarcerated at Ravenscar Asylum.

Now, two years later and only nineteen years old, John has been remanded from Ravenscar to a temporary residency in a halfway-house for recent releases. Cheryl is still gone, and John remains haunted by her absence; his father refuses to reveal his whereabouts to his only remaining family; and his only friends have scattered to the winds in the intervening years. When fresh hauntings from John's past begin tormenting him anew will he lose what little fragile mind he has left? Or strive to finally put old ghosts to rest?

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
________________________________________________________________________________________
With this John, I'm looking to revise and tighten up a previous origin-story rewrite that paints John a little younger, a little less knowledgeable, but ultimately just as traumatised and, more importantly, cunning. The well-known initial incident with Nergal and Astra - John's defining failue in canon - has been replaced with a more personal catastrophe, tearing apart John's mind as well as the only family he had. With Cheryl abducted to the aether and his friends cast to the wind, John is left to pick up the pieces of his life and find his way back to a sense of normalcy - though of course, Constantine's 'normal' is far removed from your average, everyday 'normal'.

With this John and his story, I want to retell how the 'Laughing Magician' won his noteriety in a way that makes this interpretation of the character identifiably 'mine', and from there, build on that foundation to expand his adventures and establish my John in a wider alternative DC 'canon'.

2x Like Like
Hidden 3 mos ago 3 mos ago Post by Roman
Raw
OP
Avatar of Roman

Roman King of Dirt

Member Seen 2 hrs ago



Hidden 3 mos ago 3 mos ago Post by Roman
Raw
OP
Avatar of Roman

Roman King of Dirt

Member Seen 2 hrs ago

1x Like Like
Hidden 3 mos ago 3 mos ago Post by Roman
Raw
OP
Avatar of Roman

Roman King of Dirt

Member Seen 2 hrs ago

C A T W O M A N
C A T W O M A N

"Life's a bitch and so am I!"
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
C H A R A C T E R P O R T R A I T
_________________________________________________________
_________________________________________________________
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
C H A R A C T E R S U M M A R Y
_________________________________________________________
Kitrina Elena Falcone
_________________________________________________________
Italian American | Thief
_________________________________________________________
Gotham City | New Jersey | United States of America

C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
C H A R A C T E R N O T E S
_________________________________________________________
P O S T C A T A L O G
P O S T C A T A L O G
_________________________________________________________
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
C H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T
________________________________________________________________________________________
Kitrina is the illegitimate daughter of Alberto Falcone and his illicit lover, Anna de Luca. With her father already the un-favourite of the Falcone children, Alberto being discovered as the Holiday Killer in the year of the Long Halloween did Kitrina no favours, and Carmine's murder - the severing of the last piece of goodwill toward her - sealed her fate. From then on, with her father incarcerated and her grandfather dead, Kitrina was left in the 'care' of Mario Falcone, her uncle, who partially blamed Alberto for Carmine's death, and was more than happy to unload this blame onto Kitrina by proxy.

When, in the aftermath, the efforts of Batman and Jim Gordan finally dealt a mortal blow to the Falcone Crime Empire, and Mario and Kitrina were reduced to living in the Narrows - trying desperately to claw back Falcone assets that were being steadily liquidated - the situation only got worse; until eventually, Kitrina has become embittered, numb, and angry enough to try something stupid in a last-ditch effort to earn back some respect and some much-needed cash and maybe, just maybe, something daring enough to start bringing the Falcone name back into notoriety in Gotham.

That "something stupid and/or daring" is a heist on Wayne Industries. Bruce Wayne, magnanimous philanthropist playboy as he was, was well-known for Wayne Industry's outreach programme, that guaranteed stable employment and life coaching for less-fortunate Gotham residents. Kitrina is by no means unintelligent, and applied under the pseudonym 'Holly Robinson', getting a position rather quickly and using her time within the company plotting and scoping.

Hoping to find something within the belly of Wayne Industries that she can use as blackmail for the board, Kitrina/Holly has everything planned out to propel her out of Mario's vengeful clutches, and secure the Falcone name once again as a force of nature within Gotham, reclaiming her birth-right and landing her back in the luxurious life she deserves.

P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
P L O T ( S ) & G O A L ( S )
________________________________________________________________________________________
With Kitrina I want to meld the characters of Kitrina Falcone, the spurned mafia heiress, and Holly Robinson, the street-urchin morality-chain to Selina Kyle, as well as explore the idea of the legacy character and the inheriting of titles. With an older Bruce, a retired Selina, and all kinds of Bat-babies running around Gotham, I'm looking forward to establishing a new Catwoman, taking influence from Selina's character as Kitrina/Holly's mentor, but also spinning a well-known anti-villain in a new direction.

Kitty Gets Her Claws
The research has been done, the plan has been made, and the time has come for Kitrina's heist on Waynetech to finally happen. What she seeks and what she finds are completely different things, but Kitrina will find her hard-won quarry will push her in a career direction she never could have imagined, and rubbing shoulders with persons she otherwise would have never met.

...But Satisfaction Brought Her Back
Under the tutelage of ex-Catwoman Selina Kyle, Kitrina Falcone has become quite the successful thief; however, when Sofia Falcone, surviving daughter of The Roman, catches wind of Kitrina's new money, she sees it as an opportunity to start rebuilding the Falcone Empire. Which Kitrina would have no issue with, provided her dear auntie knows how to show respect to the new generation of mafia in Gotham.

A Nice Big Ball of Yarn
Kick-starting a mafia empire is no easy task, especially in Gotham, where fierce competition hounds you at every corner. One specific player in the Gotham underworld has welcomed a return to a more traditional mob format, but he's set his beady eyes on Kitrina's budding empire, working backstage for the perfect moment to steal the limelight from the new Falcone boss. In time however, it will be revealed who's really pulling who's strings...

Hidden 2 mos ago 1 mo ago Post by Roman
Raw
OP
Avatar of Roman

Roman King of Dirt

Member Seen 2 hrs ago

L U C E C A L D E R
L U C E C A L D E R
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
"Whatever doesn't kill you..."
▅▅▅▅▅
▅▅▅▅▅▅ Y E A R B O O K P H O T O ▅▅▅▅▅▅
▅▅▅▅▅▅ Y E A R B O O K P H O T O ▅▅▅▅▅▅


▅▅▅▅▅ S T U D E N T S U M M A R Y ▅▅▅▅▅
▅▅▅▅▅ S T U D E N T S U M M A R Y ▅▅▅▅▅

Lucille 'Luce' Amanda Calder
_________________________________________________________
January 27th, 2005 | 18 | Caucasian
_________________________________________________________
Single | Female | Asexual
_________________________________________________________
Houston | British Columbia | Canada

P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E
P H Y S I C A L P R O F I L E ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S
M O T I V A T I O N S & G O A L S ▅▅▅▅▅▅

N O T E S
N O T E S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅


_________________________________________________________
S T U D E N T S Y N O P S I S
S T U D E N T S Y N O P S I S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

A Canada Native, Lucille hails from Houston BC, a small mining and forestry town which sees an influx of ecotourism throughout the year. Growing up the youngest child to a single mother of 3, she had few prospects afforded to her; she didn't fare well in school, her brothers were ambivalent to her social failings, and her mother, though meaning well, was simply too overworked and exhausted to properly parent her only daughter. It looked like, unless fate graced her with some great serendipitous incident, she would grow, live, and die in Houston BC. It would seem, then, that fate is in possession of a cruel sense of humour.

Fate did indeed visit upon Lucille, but it brought with it calamity, not providence. On a family camping trip - the cheapest way their mother could provide a 'vacation' for the kids - a particularly stormy night brought disaster upon them. Weakened trees from small wildfires finally gave way beneath the force of the storm, and came crashing down directly on their tents.

Lucille's brothers were both killed immediately, crushed and speared. Her mother was trapped, both legs broken and pinned beneath a tree. Only Luce was free, but she by no means emerged unscathed; she had escaped being utterly pulverized by the tree-trunk, but errant branches had gored her through, puncturing a lung, her stomach, and unknown to Lucille, her heart; yet she felt no pain, her movement was barely hindered, and she continued to breath and pump blood and walk without severe issue all the way back into town and to the fire station. Her journey allowed emergency workers to mobilize and save her mother - but in the aftermath, it also revealed to Luce and the town that she was far from the normal, unassuming girl she had resigned herself to being. She was a hype, and such a designation came with its own connotations and assumptions.

Lucile struggled with survivor's guilt and agoraphobia following her incident, and her mother struggled with losing her sons and receiving only a controversial discovery about her daughter in return. Eventually, it was agreed that the resources she needed were not available to her in Houston; the only place for her was P.R.C.U., and she found herself quickly enrolled and awaiting the ferry in St. Rupert.
A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S
A B I L I T I E S, L I M I T A T I O N S, & W E A K N E S S E S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

H Y P E R H U M A N A B I L I T Y || H Y P E R - A D A P T I V E S U R V I V A B I L I T Y
__PRIMARY CLASSIFICATION || ESOTERIC
__SECONDARY CLASSIFICATION || DYNAMIC

Lucille's hype-gene has mutated specifically alongside her immune system and fight-or-flight response. When presented with physical trauma or sudden terror, before adrenaline floods her blood supply, a unique secondary hormone produced by her hype-gene is secreted from her adrenal glands. This hormone first blocks the receptors at her nerve endings, completely shutting down the nervous system pain response and instead replacing any incoming trauma signals with a direct signal to the endocrine system to produce further and further adrenaline. Then, mutated hype-adrenaline bonds with her muscles and completely replaces the aerobic/anaerobic respiration function, eliminating lactic acid build-up and allowing indefinite function without exhaustion. Finally, the bonded hype-gene hormone and mutated adrenaline flood her skull cavity, pass through the pia mater into the blood vessels of the brain, and signal the activation of an extremely intense, subconscious form of auto-bio-kinesis. This bio-kinesis allows Lucille's lower-level brain functions to take over the immune system response, and enable the rewiring of muscles, organs, blood supply systems, and bones on-the-fly to adapt to endure any and all incoming trauma without ceasing overall bodily function.

Once trauma has ceased or the threat has been escaped, the hormone stops signalling, and the mutated adrenaline floods the immune system entirely. The body then expedites the recovery of injury, drawing adrenaline from its various appendages and organs in order to facilitate quickened recovery while allowing maximum up-time of the unconscious bio-kinesis to aid natural physical recovery - and finally, the adrenaline is purged from the brain entirely, shutting off the bio-kinesis and being disseminated as the final healing 'booster'.

All these processes combined result in Luce being able to sustain intense physical trauma well above and beyond what would be typically fatal for a human, without feeling pain, losing motor or organ function, or slowing or shutting down - and then being able to recover from the trauma to full-functioning capacity at an increased rate after-the-fact.

L I M I T A T I O N S || AMPUTATION, INCINERATION, IMMOBILIZATION

While Lucille's ability makes her incredibly difficult to permanently put down, there are limits to the damage she is able to repair. Amputation of any limb will require surgical intervention to reattach; Luce is not able to re-grow missing limbs or hold it in place and heal the separation. Complete incineration of flesh also stymies the healing process. Finally, while Lucille is able to survive catastrophic amounts of physical trauma, she is afforded very little additional strength, and methods to incarcerate or immobilize most people will work just as well on her.

In short, while Luce can survive with extreme aptitude, amputation, cremation, or incarceration are effective ways to eliminate her from any active situation, or kill her completely.

W E A K N E S S E S || YOU SHOULD HAVE GONE FOR THE HEAD (OR MY EMOTIONAL BAGGAGE)

Lucille's ability to adapt and survive hinges on the mutated hype-gene hormone and adrenaline combination reaching her brain and activating her latent bio-kinetic powers. This bio-kinesis is then run subconsciously without active control by Lucille. Without the brain, there is no bio-kinesis - so a sure-fire way to kill Luce is to remove the head, or destroy the brain.

Additionally, while Lucille is almost purpose-built to weather injury, her power does little against mental trauma, as evidenced by the lasting emotional scars from her fateful camping trip. She possesses a heavy fear of forests and woodland, especially densely-treed areas, and suffers from agoraphobia, worsening as she leaves urban and city developments. She's also shouldering an unhealthy amount of remorse and self-blame alongside the grief for her brothers, born from survivor's guilt and her mother's difficulties with her after the incident.

________________________________________________________________________________________
P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S
P E R S O N A L P R O M P T S ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅

Y O U A W A K E I N T H E D E A D O F N I G H T, W H A T W O K E Y O U?

Luce shifted uncomfortably in her seat, crossed arms seeming to constrict tighter across her chest and her fists gripping tight enough to turn her knuckles white. She looked straight down, avoiding the gaze of her therapist, Dr Gila Mercia.
"Nightmare." She finally offered, after several seconds of silence indicated that she wasn't going to escape without answering.
"Of course; nightmares have a way of surfacing those things we're often using sleep to avoid." Dr. Mercia replied, marking something down on the notepad in front of her. "And what is this nightmare about?"
Luce looked even more uncomfortable, and her eyes started darting around the room, looking for anything to distract or divert, anywhere but the patient, staring eyes of her doctor.
"Lucille, if you don't talk to me, none of this is going to work."
"Forest." She answered, very quickly. "Always the forest."
Gila nodded, and made some more notes.

A D I S H E V E L E D S T R A N G E R A P P R O A C H E S Y O U A S K I N G F O R H E L P, H O W D O Y O U R E S P O N D?

Lucille shook her head, her hair juddering side-to-side as she shook in short, sharp motions. Dr. Mercia watched her carefully, no hint of judgement or unkindness in her eyes. Luce eventually stopped, and then there was a tangible moment of consideration and dawning realization.
"Help. Have to help." Luce answered, with a grounded assurance that was rare to hear from her.
"Have to help?" Gila prodded, making a quick note on the paper. "Why have to, Lucille? Why do you feel obligated?"
Luce nodded slowly, clearing her throat and taking even, measured breaths.
"I was a disheveled stranger. I needed help. Can't turn someone else away."
Dr. Mercia put her pen down momentarily, smiling at Luce over the rim of her glasses. Luce managed eye contact.
"Very good, Lucille. That's a very noble perspective."

A N I N T R U D E R A L A R M H A S B E E N S E T O F F O N C A M P U S, H O W D O Y O U R E A C T?

"I guess...follow the instructions?" Luce offered, uncertain tones marking the edges of her voice. She was struggling to handle the concept emotionally, even the mere idea of an incident on-campus troubling her. P.R.C.U. was meant to be a sanctuary, a safe haven where she could learn and heal - the thought of that safety being shattered loomed over her and cast deep shadows across her mind.
"I can sense you're finding the idea distressing, Lucille. What specifically about the situation upsets you?"
"This school is supposed to be safe." Luce answered, with a good amount of venom behind it. Remorse flashed across her face immediately. Gila gave a small smile of forgiveness.
"We all have a part to play in preserving that safety, Lucille." She said, gently. "And you're better equipped than most to weather danger when it arises."
Luce took a deep breath, steadying herself and forcing her turbulent mind to be quiet.
"You're right." She said, with convincing finality. "I'd help. I'd do whatever I can to help."

S U P P O R T I N G C A S T
S U P P O R T I N G C A S T ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
▅▅▅▅▅▅

▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
"Accepting you need help is the first step to healing."
▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
D R . G I L A M E R C I A , P h D || P S Y C H I A T R I C T H E R A P I S T
D R . G I L A M E R C I A , P h D || P S Y C H I A T R I C T H E R A P I S T
_________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Lucille's therapist, Dr. Gila Mercia holds a doctorate in Psychology from the University of Toronto, and now works at P.R.C.U. in a combination research and therapeutic role. She acts as a weekly psychiatrist with many of the college's troubled students, and also leads research into the psychology of hyper-humans and how the manifestation of abilities in adolescence impacts psychological development. A patient, compassionate woman, she is committed to the health of her patients, and Luce is no exception.








Use as many or few of the above symbols as needed to balance this cell with the cell containing the image.
Hidden 9 days ago Post by Roman
Raw
OP
Avatar of Roman

Roman King of Dirt

Member Seen 2 hrs ago

haunted house from the perspective of the house

ex-owner fell fell in love with the house and ended up murder-suiciding spouse to be with house
became ghost haunting the house
uses a pipe
not happy new people have moved into house

Hidden 5 days ago Post by Roman
Raw
OP
Avatar of Roman

Roman King of Dirt

Member Seen 2 hrs ago

Guy has a really mundane boring corporate grind existence
Getting progressively more and more sick of it, spiralling
Some manner of transformation or physical metamorphosis begins to occur to him.

Everyday, Jacob goes to work
“What’s wrong?”
“Oh it’s just one of those days…”
And everyday he wonders what is happening to him.
↑ Top
© 2007-2017
BBCode Cheatsheet