General NPCs
[CHAR] The Soft Winds (Small Town Sci Fi Mystery RP, Looking for Players)
- Large Group
- Historical
- Casual
- Slice of Life
- Sci-Fi
- GM AdobeFlash
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Icepick Ɛ>-Cυτε βυτ Lετhαι-<3 1x1 Rοιεριαyεr ッ
Member
Seen
1 yr ago
Sydney Lee Hammond
Dude, call me Sinnie.
17
Bi-Curious
Student & Part time Music Store Assistant
Behind the most beautiful eyes lay secrets deeper and darker than the most mysterious sea.
Likes
- Music - It was clear that Sydney wasn't your typical girl, rebellious, spontaneous and alternative which reflected her personal love for music perfectly; having a love for bands such as The Runaways she found herself dressing more within the attire of tom-boy culture. She can often be seen wearing her favorite and somewhat signature leather jacket and boy-fitted flannel shirts on occasion. As a result of this personal addiction and love for alternative rock music she prides herself in the ability to play guitar and enjoys listening to music on her Walkman through an assortment of mix tapes. It's probably also one of the main reasons why she works in a music store part time when not studying.
- Caffeine & Cigarettes - Sydney would appear to have a fairly obvious problem when it came to the amount of caffeine, Nicotine and Cannabis she induced on a daily to weekly basis. From time to time she would appear tired, stressed and fatigued with a cup of coffee to-go in her hand and a rolled cigarette in the other; meanwhile the faint smell of weed would often radiate from her clothes. It was clear that she had some problems but getting her to talk about them was near impossible. But her obvious love for them was profound, almost like a complete addiction, talking often about her love for coffee.
- The Outdoors - Sydney rarely spends a day inside her home, however if most people saw her living conditions and the way that her family treated her they too would rather stay outdoors as much as possible. Sydney holds a fascination for trees, lakes and swamp lands which brings out her inner explorer. Although many people would be scared to venture to places such as Heaven's River, Sydney can often be found sitting upon a large tree which overlooks the river with no fear in doing so due to her brave demeanor. Her favorite spot gives a distant view of the mysterious power plant in the distance, something that had been peeking her curiosity since it's construction and opening. If not within the Heaven's location she enjoys time in the fields over at Cooper Keep, but often finds herself being chased off by a particular farmer that she has history with.
- Parties & Social Interaction - Sydney is fairly popular in town, this is down to her outgoing nature and desire to split herself off from her family and intimate life and spend it with others that can bring out the happiness hidden within her. She almost uses friends and people as fuel to help her get through each day as it approaches her, she enjoys rocking out at parties and losing herself to the music.
- Guns - Clearly the most dangerous and controversial thing that Sydney likes as a personal hobby, something which had been introduced to her through the guidance of her uncle who has taught her in both the understanding and handling in basic rifle marksmanship and pistol control. Sydney see's this hobby as a way to vent her anger out on some defenseless targets and bottles and until the United States bans her from doing so she's probably never going to stop.
Dislikes
- Liars Sydney finds liars disgusting, honesty is something that she respects most in people and if she were to find someone lying to her she wouldn't hesitate in letting them go and moving on.
- Her Family - Probably the worst thing within her life is her family apart from one or two people in particular. She despises them due to their treatment, aggression and arrogance. Constantly in an unstable environment which expresses violence and hostility which primarily comes from her father, an alcoholic and thug that believes he can control over his family with an iron fist. Her parents are also drug addicted and hold little care for her well being resulting in Sydney essentially spending her time living at friends houses to stay away from home.
- Doctors & Medication - The many stresses and issues within her life in which most of them are from the result of her family put Sydney within a personal and rather intimate battle with depression, requiring regular visits to her local doctors office and the prescription of anti depressant. She completely hates this practice and feels ashamed of herself, she does however keep this completely secret from everyone and hides it best she can.
Personality
There is always multiple sides to a person. At first you may believe that you know someone fully, allowing yourself to fall for a ruse or the side that they only want you to see; they may appear confident and happy but the honest truth may be that deep down within does dark blue eyes there is a sadness and pit of anxiety that only those close enough will witness. Sydney in this case is a prime example of this and despite being confident, sociable and outgoing not even these can cover up her issues and her insecurities, things that she believes are bandaged and maintained with alcohol, smoking, medication and some good music but most of the time these just don't fix it for her.
Besides the negatives Sydney is a trustworthy person that does anything for her friends, she can however be lazy on occasion yet she always appears to be enthusiastic even if said display is fake in an attempt to make those around her happy. Sydney is plagued by the feeling of constantly having to make others happy and having to accustom herself to doing so while also dealing with her own problems at the same time. This results in her regular stress, followed by a cigarette.
Sydney although happy and sociable on the outside does have a short fuse, she doesn't like to be told no and will usually shout back at authority. This rebellious nature clearly comes from the way in which she grew up.
Sydney is also fairly flirtatious, but most of the time is down to bringing attention to herself and simply messing with people, Sydney often wraps people around her finger without even realizing she's doing it which gives her a bit of a reputation of being an attention whore, but those that know her best look past this.
Most of the time she takes things easy, laying down, smoking a joint and listening to music while possibly also expressing her creative side and doing some little drawings on the side but also writing down her little ideas and questions about the random occurrences happening within the town, something that has slowly been peeking her interest as time goes on... Perhaps she with investigate further?
History/Biography
"You stupid little bitch!" Screamed Sydney's mother Carol as a half finished cigarette perched out from misplaced rotten teeth of an aging bitter woman.
"How dare you come into this house and expect to sleep here without bringing me some fucking cigarettes!" She continued, her angered bitter gaze focused down upon Sydney before reaching down and grabbing Sydney's own pack of cigarettes from her pocket. "Ah! here we go.. Got nothing to say? Fine, get the fuck out." She'd say in a condescending manner before spitting on Sydney and walking off towards her husband who was reclined back in his chair with a needle in his arm.
Sydney was used to this, she didn't say a word, not a single peep as she knew that it would just make things worse for her and probably her brother Joel.
She turned away, eyes puffy and red as she battled to hold back the sadness and fear that had built up within her, the anxiety and the aggression she had been fighting for so long, she wanted to escape this reality and this treatment but she couldn't leave her brother, this was the only thing binding her to this place.
Joel, her twin brother is a sensitive, quiet guy with a bitter, brutal edge. The product of being forced to "be a man" by his father who believes that punching and punishing his son is the way to shape him into an adult accepted by society that cannot be pushed around, yet Joel is smart enough to see past his fathers ruse, and Sydney is a close and important person to him also.
Walking out of the house she immediately pressed her hand through the confines of her top to reach down into her bra to pull out what would appear to be an emergency cigarette and a lighter; closing her eyes slightly she would take the moment to wipe the wetness from her tender red eyes followed by an audible whimper and a sniffle of her nose. Stick a cigarette into her mouth she'd light it up before taking in a deep inhale of sweet nicotine to calm her nerves.
Looking down at her Casio watch she let's out an audible "Shit" causing her to start pace out of possibly the worst housing estate in the entire town. Quickening her pace she'd make her way into the center of Boca Diablo, her eyes focusing upon the familiar sight of Jackson Smiths Statue, she was starting to get tired of seeing the same statue over and over but it was better than nothing within the boring lifeless town. Nearing her destination a few friends and acquiescence, including her ex-boyfriend Jason Moore walked past her, usually Sydney was one for giving small waves and smiles but the run in with her mother dragged her down into a depressive stooper with her eyes focused upon the floor, she wasn't one for talking today.. At-least not to the right person.
Walking into the white room, she sat down on a familiar chair, feeling the eyes upon her, judging her, questioning her.
"This is our Third Session now Sydney, I think that since we've got past some of your mood triggers and problems as well as medication I can get to know you better, how does that sound?" Doctor Kathleen says to her in a soothing voice, trying to make things comfortable.
"Sure, whatever." Sydney replied with her eyes still bitter and red from previous tears now begging to dry as time moved on.
"So, Sidney, You are a student correct? What is your favorite subjects and what do you hope to do when you leave, also I think I remember you mentioning that you also have a part time job on the side, right?" The doctor asked curiously, waiting for a reply.
Looking withdrawn and distant, Sydney decided to roll with it and make as much use of the session as she could before having to leave for work afterwards. "Yeah.. I'm in Eleventh Grade, Not going to lie I don't really enjoy any of it apart from music and sound design, I uh.. Play guitar and I suppose that my love for music sort of carried on over to my job, I work over at Riley's Records, It isn't bad I guess, I get free tapes for working there so I can't complain." Sydney would explain, a faint small smile appearing on her lips upon mentioning music.
"Ah, I see, you seem happy when you talk about music, perhaps you should use music as a way to improve your mood, music is something that many other people use to get through bad times." The doctor would explain.
"Yeah.." Sydney would say simply, her mind racing back to her childhood and the first time that she experienced music. Things seemed different then, her parents were different, this was before all the drugs and abuse, it seemed like the drugs warped the minds of her parents, changed them into monsters and beasts that shall never change their ways. The feeling of her hands hand against hers, the sounds of laughter, giggling and fairground music, what was this? When was this? Wha-
"Sidney, Sidney? You look really distant today-
Relationships
Relationships & Information will be listed here.
Luca Petulengro
Nicknames: Father Luca. Because it's his title. He still inwardly cringes a little at being called "Father", because most of his clergy are at least twice his age. But given that he's now a full fledged priest, it kind of comes with the territory.
Gender: Male
Age: 27
Sexuality: Heterosexual, though he leans more towards asexuality in all honesty.
Likes:
The sound of rain
Hiking
Homecooked meals
Curling up to read a good book
Meeting new people and helping others
Sweater weather
Animals
Dislikes:
Crowds
Yelling; having to yell or being yelled at, or just hearing other people yell
Sexual advances towards him; it makes him very uncomfortable
Hot, muggy weather (he probably shouldn't have moved to Florida)
Seeing dogs chained up in yards, or people mistreating their pets in general
People being discriminated against based on race, sex, sexuality, ect. He is very anti-hate.
Appearance
Luca is a very average man. He stands at 5'9" with dark brown hair, light brown skin, and brown eyes. He is of Romani and European decent, being a mix between the two. His clothes are very humble and modest, consisting of dress pants or jeans on days of the week and collared or button up shirts. On Sunday and Wednesday, he dons the iconic priests' robes to preach. He wears the same pair of brown leather shoes just about every day, except on Sunday when he swaps them for his black ones.
His hair is often a bit messy, refusing to be tamed by a comb. He has a little facial hair, which is usually kept neatly trimmed. Luca doesn't have any piercings or tattoos, but his back and arms are marred with scars from beatings he took in his childhood. Because of this, he often wears long sleeves, even in the hot, muggy Florida weather.
Personality: Luca is a gentle man. He loves people. His passion for helping others and his need to share the light of God often combine. He can be found working at homeless shelters on Saturdays, passing out soup and kind words. He lives at his church, along with anyone else who needs a place to stay.
His personality is humble and kind. He can be taken at face value, hiding no secret agendas or lies. Luca is very much the man he appears to be. He couldn't tell a lie if he wanted to.
+Luca is endlessly generous
+Humble
+Gentle
-Meek
-He has trouble forgiving others at times, which is a pretty big deal given his occupation
-He has a tendency to get a little preachy sometimes, which wouldn't seem like a bad thing, but when other people don't want to hear it, it can get aggravating pretty quick.
-He's a bit of a bleeding heart.
Other: Due to traumatic experiences in his past, he doesn't like to be touched without his permission. If someone surprises him with a hug, he stiffens up and is clearly uncomfortable. It's something he's been working on, but it's more or less become a natural reflex.
Luca is a pacifist. It's not so much something he vowed to do, but something that just comes naturally to him. He doesn't like to fight or hurt others, even in self defense. He would much rather try to talk things out, or just run if things get too hairy.
Luca is multilingual. His travels across Europe as a boy taught him to speak bits and pieces of several languages. He speaks fluent German and Romanian. He knew a little English before he was brought to America, but as a whole, he didn't begin speaking it until he was 18. Because of this, he has an accent. However, most people can't really place it. It leans towards a more German-esque sound.
Biography:
Luca came from a hard beginning. His family was a group of oldschool Romani that traveled the European countrysides. When they came into town to sell and buy, they were often met with discrimination and hate. Most places put up with them until they left, but it was when they reached a small town in Germany that their band was met with brutal forces. The mayor of the town called the police on them, having them arrested and shipped from the country.
Some of Luca's family fled, and some were captured and removed. But in the chaos, Luca was separated from them. At the tender age of 9, the boy was left to fend for himself. He quickly left the town that had attacked his family, afraid that they may hurt or even kill him. Luca wandered until he found a new, larger city to settle in. There, he lived on the streets until he was 13. A farmer approached him, offering him work in return for food and shelter. He had no intent of paying Luca, making the transaction completely illegal and slavery by definition. But Luca was desperate, so he agreed.
Luca worked long days on the farm, doing anything asked of him until his body and muscles hurt. He lived in the barn and ate whatever leftovers were brought to him. Although he was no longer freezing to death or starving, he was still miserable. The farmhands took to mocking and tormenting him, calling him a dirty gypsy while he did their work. If Luca ever tried to defend himself, he was typically beaten until he learned to keep his mouth shut.
It was during this harsh time in his life that Luca reflected on his mother's teachings of God. Before, he had never given it much thought. But laying in the straw that was his bed, hurting from both work and wounds, faith made it possible to pull through. He snuck off of the farm one day to visit a bookstore in town. He had scraped together just enough money laying around to buy a Bible. He would hide it under the hay in the barn loft and only read it by moonlight at night. It was difficult, as he practically illiterate, but over the years, it got easier.
Reading the Bible helped him endure years of physical, emotional, and even sexual abuse at the hands of the farm workers. He was 18 when a couple of Christian missionaries happened to come to the farm to buy fresh produce. They saw the boy in such poor living conditions. After pulling him aside to speak with him, hearing his story, they couldn't leave him there. By this point, Luca had become so accustom to his loss of freedom that when the farmer refused to relinquish him to the missionaries, he didn't even fight it. It didn't occur to him that he didn't actually belong to the man and his awful farmhands.
The missionaries went to the law. Police came to the farm and demanded that Luca be set free, eventually arresting the farmer for unlawful imprisonment and several workers for their treatment of the boy. The missionaries convinced Luca to come back to America with them, where he wouldn't face such cruelty and discrimination. They brought him to the church, where he learned to speak English and live like a civilized person. It took him a while to come out of his shell, but with gentle coaxing, Luca came to regard the clergy as his family.
With the oldest priest's help, Luca studied to become a priest himself. It took several years of hard work, as Luca was so behind on his schooling. But he was very passionate about it. He put a lot of hard work into helping those who lived on the streets, like he once had. He was the driving factor in getting the church's new homeless ministry off the ground. His kindness and drive made him very well accepted among the clergy.
Once he finally became a full fledged priest, he worked alongside his elder. Father Walter was a little strange sometimes; he would often disappear for a few days before coming back with strange bruises and cuts. He never told Luca where he went or what he was up to, and Luca never pressed. Then, one day, Father Walter never returned. Luca and the church still aren't really sure what happened to him, but his duties have now fallen on Luca's shoulders. Being the only other priest in the church, despite his young age, Luca now leads Mass and attends to all other priestly work.
Kassarock W O R L D E A T E R
Member
Seen
16 days ago
Johnathon ‘Jack’ Walker
Nicknames: Jack to his friends, Walker to most of the respectable citizens of Boca Diablo
Gender: Male
Age: 34
Sexuality: Heterosexual
Likes:
- Cars, motorbikes, anything that involves mechanics and going fast really.
- Whiskey, especially bourbon.
- NASCAR, demolition derbies, Monster truck racing
- Hard Rock music, think Led Zeppelin, The Who, Deep Purple, Aerosmith, AC/DC, Van Halen etc
- Dogs, Jack used to have a German Sheppard named Al
- Time to himself
Dislikes:
- Agricultural work, or any form of work that isn’t on mechanics
- Law Enforcement, the Sherriff’s department continually suspicions rub Jack the wrong way
- Polite society and small talk
- People who think they’re better than him
- People prying into his business
Appearance: Jack is tall man, standing over 6’1” when he’s not in boots. He’s quite rangy in his build, but his well enough muscled not seem insubstantial, hard work has kept him fit and he is yet to begin softening into middle age. His dirty blonde hair is normally pushed back off of his somewhat angular face. Around its lower half he is normally wearing several days’ worth of stumble and a cigarette can often be found dangling from the corner of his mouth. He has distinctive tattoo on his right forearm of a snake circling its away around a dagger.
Clothing wise Jack prefers muted tones, leather and denim make up a large part of his wardrobe both in and out of work. Underneath or when it is too hot he favours faded plaid shirts and vest tops. On his left hand he is large ornate silver ring with a garnet set into the centre.
Clothing wise Jack prefers muted tones, leather and denim make up a large part of his wardrobe both in and out of work. Underneath or when it is too hot he favours faded plaid shirts and vest tops. On his left hand he is large ornate silver ring with a garnet set into the centre.
Personality: Jack is a somewhat reserved man. He seems very hostile on the surface things but that’s mainly a front due to his reputation in town. In reality he’s quite a relaxed person with a dry sense of humour coupled with a healthy dose of cynicism. There’s nothing more that he likes then to take time off, have a drink, and shoot the breeze the regulars that prop up the bar out at the Roadhouse. However, he does have a temper on him, one which has cooled over the years, but can be still be woken if the right buttons are pushed.
He doesn’t talk about himself much, or appreciate people trying to pry into his life. When he wants he can be charming in a roguish sort of way, and when he first came back to the town after his self-imposed exile, he was quite a ladies man for a few years. That quietened down when the women around these parts learned more of him and his ways. He likes the chase, but doesn’t do well with commitment. Despite his seeming transition to honest labourer, there’s still something secretive and slightly shady about Jack. But he gives respect if someone’s willing to give it back, and there are a fair few people in town who do appreciate his presence.
He doesn’t talk about himself much, or appreciate people trying to pry into his life. When he wants he can be charming in a roguish sort of way, and when he first came back to the town after his self-imposed exile, he was quite a ladies man for a few years. That quietened down when the women around these parts learned more of him and his ways. He likes the chase, but doesn’t do well with commitment. Despite his seeming transition to honest labourer, there’s still something secretive and slightly shady about Jack. But he gives respect if someone’s willing to give it back, and there are a fair few people in town who do appreciate his presence.
Biography: The Walker families are one of the old families of Boca Diabola, but one of those that never really prospered. There were Walkers in that second wave of settlers that came in 1765 after the first ill-fated lost expedition. But most of branches of the family have either died out or moved away. Used to be they owned a good chunk of land in around the Keep, but bad harvests and personal tragedies have seen the families land has shrunk down to a simple small holding on the very eastern edge of Cooper Keep. Not even a proper farm, it comprises of a few acres of scrubland, woods and swamp with a rundown cabin with a rickety old barn and twenty rusting cars sat on top. Jack Walker is the last custodian of the Walker property.
It was the cabin that Jack grew up in, built by his grandfather, after his great grandfather was forced to sell off their old farm. His upbringing was fairly hard, his father, James Walker, was a man left embittered after seeing his fortunes sunk low. The small holding was a complete and utter failure and his father ended up working as an agricultural worker for other landowners, an utter humiliation for such a proud man.
They had strained relationship, Jack grew up never knowing the better times for his family, he never had the same notions about their respectability or their heritage. He made friends with other kids from the lower echelons of the town’s community. When his father tried to impress on him the impropriety of the company he was keeping, it just drove more a wedge between them and encouraged Jack to act out.
During his youth he quite the town hoodlum, getting into a helluva lot of fights and scuffles, most of which he ended up winning. He used to drink underage in the old roadhouse, and fell in with an even worse crowd than the other farm hand kids. He slung dope for a while and did worse, until he got caught trying to commit burglary on a house on the good side of town. He managed to get off light and escape charges. But none the less, his life changed that year when he was called up in the draft of ‘69 to go to Vietnam. Jack never saw much action while he was out there, the horrors of Tet offensive were already over, and later the peace held mostly until the complete withdrawal of American forces in ’73. But what did see wasn’t pretty, around 15% of G.I.s were on smack around that time, and Jack was one of them. He kicked the habit as part of the Golden Flow program (no ride home until you pass a urine test) but that and the war changed him.
When he came back to the states and was discharged he couldn’t stand go back to Boca Diabola, so he spent the next five years travelling around the west on the back of a motorbike. He lived in San Francisco for a while, just long enough watch the demise of the hippy dream before he headed back south. A few years in Dallas and then onto Atlanta, it was in ’78 that he heard his father was head.
He thought he was coming back for the funeral, but somehow he never left. The property fell to him since his mother hadn’t been around since he was little, and his only sibling (a younger sister) was starting a new life in L.A. last time he heard from her.
Jack’s never been in the same level of trouble that he was as a kid, although in small towns people have long memories, and there are rumours. He works odd jobs most of time, either agricultural work, or as a mechanic, one of the few things he is genuinely considered to be good at. He’s been quiet, but folks are still somewhat wary of him, and he isn’t particularly well liked in the town.
It was the cabin that Jack grew up in, built by his grandfather, after his great grandfather was forced to sell off their old farm. His upbringing was fairly hard, his father, James Walker, was a man left embittered after seeing his fortunes sunk low. The small holding was a complete and utter failure and his father ended up working as an agricultural worker for other landowners, an utter humiliation for such a proud man.
They had strained relationship, Jack grew up never knowing the better times for his family, he never had the same notions about their respectability or their heritage. He made friends with other kids from the lower echelons of the town’s community. When his father tried to impress on him the impropriety of the company he was keeping, it just drove more a wedge between them and encouraged Jack to act out.
During his youth he quite the town hoodlum, getting into a helluva lot of fights and scuffles, most of which he ended up winning. He used to drink underage in the old roadhouse, and fell in with an even worse crowd than the other farm hand kids. He slung dope for a while and did worse, until he got caught trying to commit burglary on a house on the good side of town. He managed to get off light and escape charges. But none the less, his life changed that year when he was called up in the draft of ‘69 to go to Vietnam. Jack never saw much action while he was out there, the horrors of Tet offensive were already over, and later the peace held mostly until the complete withdrawal of American forces in ’73. But what did see wasn’t pretty, around 15% of G.I.s were on smack around that time, and Jack was one of them. He kicked the habit as part of the Golden Flow program (no ride home until you pass a urine test) but that and the war changed him.
When he came back to the states and was discharged he couldn’t stand go back to Boca Diabola, so he spent the next five years travelling around the west on the back of a motorbike. He lived in San Francisco for a while, just long enough watch the demise of the hippy dream before he headed back south. A few years in Dallas and then onto Atlanta, it was in ’78 that he heard his father was head.
He thought he was coming back for the funeral, but somehow he never left. The property fell to him since his mother hadn’t been around since he was little, and his only sibling (a younger sister) was starting a new life in L.A. last time he heard from her.
Jack’s never been in the same level of trouble that he was as a kid, although in small towns people have long memories, and there are rumours. He works odd jobs most of time, either agricultural work, or as a mechanic, one of the few things he is genuinely considered to be good at. He’s been quiet, but folks are still somewhat wary of him, and he isn’t particularly well liked in the town.
Other:
Jack has a wide array of half junked, half built cars and motorcycles on his property. Right now he is driving or working on:
- 1976 Dodge Warlock truck, dark green, his main day to day vehicle
- Harley Davidson FX Super Glide
- 1953 Buick Roadmaster, his main project car, currently without engine
SmileyJaws
Member
Seen
4 mos ago
Finished
Let me know if there's anything you need me to change. If I'm accepted I'll post it to character section.
Like a snake always in recoil, you never know when he's going to snap.
Nicknames: Mark, Marko, Marky.
Gender: How dare you assume my gender! Just kidding, Male.
Age:19
Sexuality:Hetero
Likes:
+ Hunting Some of Marko’s earliest memories are of his father taking him hunting when he was seven or eight and remembers his dad’s great respect for living things as well as his ability at hunting. Marko has hunted himself and with his two brothers before they left since then and would call it one of his passtimes. Anything from setting snares or shooting to lamping with his dogs. Naturally his love of hunting lends to a love of the outdoors as well.
+ Music Marko was brought up on rock and rap and they have remained his favorite genres since as long as he can remember although he does listen to just about aything that he likes the sound of. While music never directly affected his style or anything growing up it has definitely been a deep part of Marko in many ways.
+ Street Art An appreciation of street art has stemmed since seeing stuff online and in books about the history of grafitti as well as a book called ‘Out of Sight’ which was all about street art in abandoned places. He found the idea of artists not even signing the work because it was intended to be seen by only the few who found it not something paraded out for everyone to see.
+ Personal Space While he enjoys the company of people he knows well or are close to him. Marko would much rather find himself in solitude than socialising with a group of strangers. As well as this he finds being touched other than a handshake for example by strangers or acquaintances is not on.
-
Dislikes:
Lousy Parents Seeing people being bad parents in general leaves a sour taste in Marko’s mouth from memories of his own mother after the death of his dad. It’s not his business though is how he tends to look at it.
Police Marko holds a generally bad perception of authority, society and the police. Often jeering them as they pass verbally or with hand gestures. While not outrightly violent to them or anything he enjoys giving cops that bother him a hard time.
Pop Probably the only genre of music that would ever be on this list in Marko’s case. He tends to leave the radio off when driving.
Personality:
Marko is a confusing one. Generally he shows many characteristics of an anti social disorder - manipulative behaviour, lack of shame or remorse, a great ability for lying in regards to achieving goals and a general disregard for the feelings of others. Recent sessions with a therapist have uncovered depression, possibly clinical but at the same time with all his traits that point towards alarming evidence of a sociopath he's deep in the grips of his own war in his head and possesses a fierce loyalty to friends, family and loved ones. It's possible his real personality is suppressed or has been altered by heavy substance abuse, cigarettes, beer and marijuana just about complete Marko and sometimes it seems that he lives on the stuff. While being very much a closed book if Marko can open up to you it's a sign of trust. A gentle soul at heart it's believed his past, substance abuse and mental health concerns are at the root of any disorder. Very few outside of therapy and close friends and family have noticed anything of real concern, Marko tends to emulate emotions, body language and reactions to hide general lack of feeling.
Biography:
Marko, his younger sister and two older brothers[1] were raised by a single mother when there father died in what the Police have called a 'tragic accident' but the family believe it to be foul play when the pick-up went over a bridge and into a ravine. This event greatly influenced the rest of Marko's childhood who was turning 9 at the time. Their mother had new men over the next decade but none that ever stuck or resembled any kind of father figure for the children. Mark was fifteen when his two older brothers had left home, one even moving state over to the other side of the country for college or something - Mark never really heard from him since.
When his mother's alcoholism and casual drug usage had brought her to the point of not being able to look after the children Marko found himself looking after his little sister, she was only two years younger than him and would learn as she followed Mark around during teenage drinking, smoking and whatever else was going on. His first few run-ins with local Police was for minor bullshit like drinking in public while underage, possession of a few grams of weed which he only ever got cautioned on. It was two years later when his sister who was fifteen at the time came home one stormy night with her clothes half ripped off her, make-up smeared and generally in a state. Later on Marko found out the whole story once the police reports had been filed. His sister had been raped and apparently didn't know who'd done it. It was her eyes as Marko questioned her himself that gave the answer away. There was a large black kid who lived back closer into town, he was never right in the head, learning difficulties is what they called it. Turned out he'd been at party had offered to drive his sister home and went off course and raped her, violently from what any reports told. At this stage Marko stepped back, unable to bide his time but still wanting a course of action. He put his rifle in the truck and drove into town, covering his face and body well, wearing plain black clothes he parked the truck up close to the bowling alley where this scum was hanging out with some friends.
As Marko spotted him leaving he jumped out of the truck, rifle in hand roaring at the terrified group of lads who soon left when ordered leaving the brother with his revenge. He dragged Erere, as he was called around the lane and the rest was history really. The police were called by management and there was a short stand off before Marko surrendered. Long-story short due to the circumstances Marko was handed down his final caution and a hefty fine with the knowledge that any more behavior like this would have him locked up without questioning.
It was only a few months later that their mother also died from an underlying condition. One brother ended up moving back to the house which after a short legal battle the siblings won and bought from a bank disclosure. He'd only been living in town anyway and now that it was just the three of them in the house with one brother seemingly never to be heard of again. Marko has a young boy who is turning one year old but isn't allowed to see him for no reason in particular just by wishes of the mother[2]. Marko has complained and threatened to take her to court but never seems to get around to it.
When the food and electricity ran out, Marko and Sean knew they had to do something to get some money into the household. Especially when hunting or selling timber wasn't an option. Sean, the older of the two originally started the idea of selling drugs around town but soon had Marko on board.
Other:
- Marko has two dogs, Boots (a wheaton hound crossed with a lurcher) and Chief (a border collie)
[1]
Maria, Sister, Age 17
Jack, Brother, Age 24
[2]
Let me know if there's anything you need me to change. If I'm accepted I'll post it to character section.
Marko Quinlan
Like a snake always in recoil, you never know when he's going to snap.
Nicknames: Mark, Marko, Marky.
Gender: How dare you assume my gender! Just kidding, Male.
Age:19
Sexuality:Hetero
Likes:
+ Hunting Some of Marko’s earliest memories are of his father taking him hunting when he was seven or eight and remembers his dad’s great respect for living things as well as his ability at hunting. Marko has hunted himself and with his two brothers before they left since then and would call it one of his passtimes. Anything from setting snares or shooting to lamping with his dogs. Naturally his love of hunting lends to a love of the outdoors as well.
+ Music Marko was brought up on rock and rap and they have remained his favorite genres since as long as he can remember although he does listen to just about aything that he likes the sound of. While music never directly affected his style or anything growing up it has definitely been a deep part of Marko in many ways.
+ Street Art An appreciation of street art has stemmed since seeing stuff online and in books about the history of grafitti as well as a book called ‘Out of Sight’ which was all about street art in abandoned places. He found the idea of artists not even signing the work because it was intended to be seen by only the few who found it not something paraded out for everyone to see.
+ Personal Space While he enjoys the company of people he knows well or are close to him. Marko would much rather find himself in solitude than socialising with a group of strangers. As well as this he finds being touched other than a handshake for example by strangers or acquaintances is not on.
-
Dislikes:
Lousy Parents Seeing people being bad parents in general leaves a sour taste in Marko’s mouth from memories of his own mother after the death of his dad. It’s not his business though is how he tends to look at it.
Police Marko holds a generally bad perception of authority, society and the police. Often jeering them as they pass verbally or with hand gestures. While not outrightly violent to them or anything he enjoys giving cops that bother him a hard time.
Pop Probably the only genre of music that would ever be on this list in Marko’s case. He tends to leave the radio off when driving.
Personality:
Marko is a confusing one. Generally he shows many characteristics of an anti social disorder - manipulative behaviour, lack of shame or remorse, a great ability for lying in regards to achieving goals and a general disregard for the feelings of others. Recent sessions with a therapist have uncovered depression, possibly clinical but at the same time with all his traits that point towards alarming evidence of a sociopath he's deep in the grips of his own war in his head and possesses a fierce loyalty to friends, family and loved ones. It's possible his real personality is suppressed or has been altered by heavy substance abuse, cigarettes, beer and marijuana just about complete Marko and sometimes it seems that he lives on the stuff. While being very much a closed book if Marko can open up to you it's a sign of trust. A gentle soul at heart it's believed his past, substance abuse and mental health concerns are at the root of any disorder. Very few outside of therapy and close friends and family have noticed anything of real concern, Marko tends to emulate emotions, body language and reactions to hide general lack of feeling.
Biography:
Marko, his younger sister and two older brothers[1] were raised by a single mother when there father died in what the Police have called a 'tragic accident' but the family believe it to be foul play when the pick-up went over a bridge and into a ravine. This event greatly influenced the rest of Marko's childhood who was turning 9 at the time. Their mother had new men over the next decade but none that ever stuck or resembled any kind of father figure for the children. Mark was fifteen when his two older brothers had left home, one even moving state over to the other side of the country for college or something - Mark never really heard from him since.
When his mother's alcoholism and casual drug usage had brought her to the point of not being able to look after the children Marko found himself looking after his little sister, she was only two years younger than him and would learn as she followed Mark around during teenage drinking, smoking and whatever else was going on. His first few run-ins with local Police was for minor bullshit like drinking in public while underage, possession of a few grams of weed which he only ever got cautioned on. It was two years later when his sister who was fifteen at the time came home one stormy night with her clothes half ripped off her, make-up smeared and generally in a state. Later on Marko found out the whole story once the police reports had been filed. His sister had been raped and apparently didn't know who'd done it. It was her eyes as Marko questioned her himself that gave the answer away. There was a large black kid who lived back closer into town, he was never right in the head, learning difficulties is what they called it. Turned out he'd been at party had offered to drive his sister home and went off course and raped her, violently from what any reports told. At this stage Marko stepped back, unable to bide his time but still wanting a course of action. He put his rifle in the truck and drove into town, covering his face and body well, wearing plain black clothes he parked the truck up close to the bowling alley where this scum was hanging out with some friends.
As Marko spotted him leaving he jumped out of the truck, rifle in hand roaring at the terrified group of lads who soon left when ordered leaving the brother with his revenge. He dragged Erere, as he was called around the lane and the rest was history really. The police were called by management and there was a short stand off before Marko surrendered. Long-story short due to the circumstances Marko was handed down his final caution and a hefty fine with the knowledge that any more behavior like this would have him locked up without questioning.
It was only a few months later that their mother also died from an underlying condition. One brother ended up moving back to the house which after a short legal battle the siblings won and bought from a bank disclosure. He'd only been living in town anyway and now that it was just the three of them in the house with one brother seemingly never to be heard of again. Marko has a young boy who is turning one year old but isn't allowed to see him for no reason in particular just by wishes of the mother[2]. Marko has complained and threatened to take her to court but never seems to get around to it.
When the food and electricity ran out, Marko and Sean knew they had to do something to get some money into the household. Especially when hunting or selling timber wasn't an option. Sean, the older of the two originally started the idea of selling drugs around town but soon had Marko on board.
Other:
- Marko has two dogs, Boots (a wheaton hound crossed with a lurcher) and Chief (a border collie)
[1]
Maria, Sister, Age 17
Jack, Brother, Age 24
[2]
Gelatinous Cube One among the Fence
Member
Seen
5 hrs ago
Agent Morgan Daniels
Nicknames: Daniels
Gender: Male
Age: 35
Sexuality: Not that he gets much time for romance, but Daniels prefers women.
Likes:
- His job
- Closing cases
- Old paperbacks
- Jazz fusion and the Blues
- Old, brown liquor
Dislikes:
- Disrespect
- Criminals
- Alcoholics
- Would-be tough guys
- His job
- Closing cases
- Old paperbacks
- Jazz fusion and the Blues
- Old, brown liquor
Dislikes:
- Disrespect
- Criminals
- Alcoholics
- Would-be tough guys
Personality: Morgan has a fierce devotion to his job that can make him seem cold and distant at first meet, but once you get past his work ethic you'll find he's a calm, down to earth man. Albeit one who has seen far too much of the handiwork of serial killers and violent criminals and knows he's bound to see more right up until retirement, so he may still keep you at arms length. He generally prefers not to tread on toes, but if someone pushes him, he has no qualms in shoving them back with his authority.
Typically, whatever it takes to get the job done.
Biography: Morgan was born in Flint, Michigan to Barry and Rosa Daniels. Two of the hardest working people he'd ever known. It wouldn't exactly be unfair to have called the Daniels' poor. His parents worked hard to keep the lights on and the table set, and as a consequence Morgan didn't get to spend much time with them. It was hardly a unique story, with many of the kids on his street in the same boat. They would race home from school on their second hand bicycles and do their chores at the speed of sound so they could take the last remaining shreds of sunlight to go and explore. This is where Morgan derived his inquisitive nature, and knack for investigation.
His teenage years came by, and his parents seemed satisfied enough with his grades. Their shifts got longer, and the meals got cheaper and Morgan couldn't help but notice that his dad was spending more money on beer and more time on the couch. They never said it, but work was growing scarce for them and the other salt-of-the-earth folks in their neighborhood. Crime was on the rise and things were just all around looking bad.
Morgan doesn't claim to remember much of the years between age 11 and 16, but he recalls them being very negative. His father slid all too comfortably into abusive alcoholism, and his mother grew only more and more shrewish as the yelling turned to beatings.
Morgan survived his father's wrath by sinking into his studies and excelling at track and field events, ignoring it like a coward.
"That's my boy," his father would slur from the couch, drowning out Johnny Carson's witty banter, "You're either gonna be an athlete or a scientist!"
It kept the man pleased until his mother placed food down on the table. Heaven forbid the peas had mingled too much with the corn. Sadly that was all it took to set him off these days. All the while, he never even noticed the dark fire growing inside his son every time he saw that man clench his fists.
At age 18, Morgan graduated with high honors. The first thing he did was apply for the Police Academy. He was as shocked as anyone to learn that he got in. He attacked his training with a tenacity seldom seen in the increasingly corrupt ranks of the Michigan police department. Upon graduation he was placed back in Flint, where he could protect and serve his home town. He was happy, his parents were proud of him. He still knew his father was beating his mother.
It all culminated in the worst way when he was dispatched to a domestic violence call early one evening. His stomach dropped to his feet when he heard the address.
It was the worst he'd ever seen the man do. His mother was bleeding, cowering in the corner. Morgan claims to have no recollection of what he did next, but his father spent the next two months in hospital.
Morgan was thankfully not fired, but was placed on administrative leave. He used this spare time to take better care of his mother. Her health was failing thanks to years of domestic abuse and chain smoking. He loved her dearly, and he was shattered when she died.
He came back to work after his leave, but found he couldn't commit to it the way he once had. He wanted to do more, he had to do more. He applied for the Bureau. Rejection. He applied again. Rejection. He applied more times than he would care to admit. Finally, he got the letter he had spent three years dreaming of.
Five years later, he received a call that his father was in hospital. It would be his last chance to see the man.
"There he is," he croaked through the oxygen mask, "there's my boy."
Morgan could only stare back at the shriveled old bastard with contempt. He couldn't even bring himself to say anything to him. When he left that room, the doctor told him, "it was your fathers time to go. There's nothing we could have done."
Only Morgan knew what happened in there, and he knew how to make it all look. He was only sorry he hadn't done it sooner. Too . I love you, mom.
The years continued to go by and he enjoyed a successful and fulfilling career as an FBI Agent.
His boss just slapped a heavy file on his desk, "You look like you could use a tan, Daniels."
His next assignment was taking him to a small town in Florida, Boca Diablo.
Typically, whatever it takes to get the job done.
Biography: Morgan was born in Flint, Michigan to Barry and Rosa Daniels. Two of the hardest working people he'd ever known. It wouldn't exactly be unfair to have called the Daniels' poor. His parents worked hard to keep the lights on and the table set, and as a consequence Morgan didn't get to spend much time with them. It was hardly a unique story, with many of the kids on his street in the same boat. They would race home from school on their second hand bicycles and do their chores at the speed of sound so they could take the last remaining shreds of sunlight to go and explore. This is where Morgan derived his inquisitive nature, and knack for investigation.
His teenage years came by, and his parents seemed satisfied enough with his grades. Their shifts got longer, and the meals got cheaper and Morgan couldn't help but notice that his dad was spending more money on beer and more time on the couch. They never said it, but work was growing scarce for them and the other salt-of-the-earth folks in their neighborhood. Crime was on the rise and things were just all around looking bad.
Morgan doesn't claim to remember much of the years between age 11 and 16, but he recalls them being very negative. His father slid all too comfortably into abusive alcoholism, and his mother grew only more and more shrewish as the yelling turned to beatings.
Morgan survived his father's wrath by sinking into his studies and excelling at track and field events, ignoring it like a coward.
"That's my boy," his father would slur from the couch, drowning out Johnny Carson's witty banter, "You're either gonna be an athlete or a scientist!"
It kept the man pleased until his mother placed food down on the table. Heaven forbid the peas had mingled too much with the corn. Sadly that was all it took to set him off these days. All the while, he never even noticed the dark fire growing inside his son every time he saw that man clench his fists.
At age 18, Morgan graduated with high honors. The first thing he did was apply for the Police Academy. He was as shocked as anyone to learn that he got in. He attacked his training with a tenacity seldom seen in the increasingly corrupt ranks of the Michigan police department. Upon graduation he was placed back in Flint, where he could protect and serve his home town. He was happy, his parents were proud of him. He still knew his father was beating his mother.
It all culminated in the worst way when he was dispatched to a domestic violence call early one evening. His stomach dropped to his feet when he heard the address.
It was the worst he'd ever seen the man do. His mother was bleeding, cowering in the corner. Morgan claims to have no recollection of what he did next, but his father spent the next two months in hospital.
Morgan was thankfully not fired, but was placed on administrative leave. He used this spare time to take better care of his mother. Her health was failing thanks to years of domestic abuse and chain smoking. He loved her dearly, and he was shattered when she died.
He came back to work after his leave, but found he couldn't commit to it the way he once had. He wanted to do more, he had to do more. He applied for the Bureau. Rejection. He applied again. Rejection. He applied more times than he would care to admit. Finally, he got the letter he had spent three years dreaming of.
Five years later, he received a call that his father was in hospital. It would be his last chance to see the man.
"There he is," he croaked through the oxygen mask, "there's my boy."
Morgan could only stare back at the shriveled old bastard with contempt. He couldn't even bring himself to say anything to him. When he left that room, the doctor told him, "it was your fathers time to go. There's nothing we could have done."
Only Morgan knew what happened in there, and he knew how to make it all look. He was only sorry he hadn't done it sooner. Too . I love you, mom.
The years continued to go by and he enjoyed a successful and fulfilling career as an FBI Agent.
His boss just slapped a heavy file on his desk, "You look like you could use a tan, Daniels."
His next assignment was taking him to a small town in Florida, Boca Diablo.
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