LetterA — Roleplayer Guild

ok wow here we go

Name:
Argo "Coco" Dolus

Age:
Twenty-seven

Sex:
Male

Appearance:
If anything, Coco doesn't look his age. Shorter than the average person, he stands at an inch under five feet even, matching with an airy eighty three pounds. He's got a full head of soft black hair and large dark eyes that only serve to make him seem younger. His skin is soft and naturally tanned, littered here and there only with a rainbow of bruises, and despite the softness of his cheeks, Coco's hands are rough and calloused. He is thin- unhealthily so- but is also rather athletic in the flexible sense. He has a fluidity about his movements that make him seem as though he's dancing. Prior to arriving in Kite, he was blind in one eye- the right- and although it was healed, the scar cutting through his bottom lashline is still visible. Coco's obsession with the number three derives from the number of moles on his body- three on his face (two over his glabella, and one right over the left side of his lip), six on the back of his right thigh in the shape of the Lyra constellation), and nine littering each arm (two on his left shoulder and two on his left forearm, then three forming a line over his right middle knuckle, and two more over his elbow).

Personality:
For the most part, Coco is rather agreeable, in the sense you tell him what to do and he'll nod his head and do it. There's a limit to his deference, however, and in order for him to stay loyal, he has to be reminded of the other side's power. Like a cheating snake waiting for his time, Coco will strike and rebel if the one bossing him around shows signs of weakness, or hesitation. Coco prefers the company of others, as he doesn't trust himself alone. He is very good at using his face and voice to express emotions, and can often be found mirroring other people's body language. He laughs easily, and has pitched up his voice for so long, it's a surprise whenever he speaks in his low tone. Overall, Coco can act much like any other child, but underneath, his own age and experiences aren't forgotten. 

Background:
Coco was born in the ghettos of Philippines, the third of five children. He lost his youngest brother to the ocean after a fishing trip when he was six, and his eldest brother was sent to live with their aunt in the city so he could go to school. Every summer the eldest visited and gave the three brothers lessons. For the most part the family made their money the same way the others in the neighborhood did, by gathering trash and trying to sell them off. Sometimes their mother would make something edible that they could sell, and if they were lucky and the food became too spoiled for sale, the brothers could split it between themselves to eat. 

When Coco was nine, he met his first American. He was tall- taller than his father who he once thought to be the tallest man in the world- and had a pink head with glittering gold hair. He teased with his two brothers that the man was like a very large baby. A very large and hairy baby. Needless to say, the American piqued the interest of the neighborhood kids, they followed him around with curiosity. The man, as it turns out, was a photographer for some magazine. He took a shining to Coco's older brother and spent a lot of time with him- and despite Coco's expressed interest in learning photography as well, he was never included in their time together. 

And perhaps he didn't want to know. When he was eleven and the man came once more for his yearly visit, Coco saw something strange and foreign from the window of the man's run down apartment. He wasn't sure if his older brother had been doing this every time or it was just that one time and he'd just happen to see it, but Coco was sure that it was disgusting. Shooed away by the landlord, the young boy scampered off. 

A year later he confronted the man. He spoke softly. His voice was deep and convinced Coco he made a mistake, he wasn't a bad guy. But when the man tried to urge him into his room to have a talk, something rattled in Coco's bones. It didn't feel right. He was still small then- smaller than he is now- but he was energetic. In his tugging and pulling an fighting and wailing, Coco was in an adrenaline rush. He didn't even realize he blacked out till he woke up in his bedroom with searing pain in his right eye. Apparently in the struggle he'd gotten hit with a bottle, shards cutting into his eye. 

His mother thought he lashed out and  often apologized to the man when he came by. She was happy that he was still willing to give Coco's older brother lessons despite Coco's "outburst", and expressed it by sharing with him food that they barely had. Coco became more reliant with his younger brother, who helped rehabilitate his new half sight and played games with him. They often went around trying to sell rubbish in the city, spending whatever meager coins they earned on hot foods that they split between themselves. 

When the eldest came home that summer, he noticed the divide- Coco and his younger brother always together, the older of the two seen more with other kids their age. He tried to make peace between them, befriending Coco and his older brother. This happened over a span of a few years, and when it seemed as though Coco's reliance shifted towards the eldest, the younger brother started to worry. See, in the family, there was a line of command- naturally from mother to father down to the brothers. Because of Coco's situation however, rather than oldest to youngest, the commands went from eldest, second eldest, younger brother, then Coco. Not usually having been this way, the younger brother obviously enjoyed being able to push on his chores to someone else for a change. So when Coco started being reliant on the eldest, the younger brother became intimidated. He caused a situation where he reminded Coco that he was the one Coco needed. That the eldest was weak and unreliable. 

Despite his efforts, Coco was taken away at the age of eighteen by a man from the city. At this point, it was evident that Coco had long stopped growing and had started forming his way of life- rely and cheat. The city man found his childish appearance and all-knowing eye to be mysterious, paying off his parents in exchange for Coco. He never heard from his family again, much less saw them spare in the crowds of the city where the faces melted into familiar ones. 

It was his first time in the city, and it was no different from the ghettos spare the tall buildings and the many automobiles. There was still trash everywhere and peddlers everywhere and children as small and hungry as he was. Coco lived his life in the city as the city man's money maker- he was dressed in fancy clothes and thick paint and made to dance or sing (though he only knew the small rhyming songs for street games so that act was cut). Foreigners visited and though Coco had long been disillusioned by blonde hair and pink skin, it would've been a lie to say he didn't enjoy being petted and called lovely. It was here that the chopped up English he had learned was smoothed out and cleaned. He learned bits and pieces of other languages too (he likes to say danke, though he doesn't know what languages it is), but his English really smoothed out. He even faked accents now and again, though they were bad and his Filipino ring still came through. Somehow the whole thing was called off after two years into it, and Coco found himself wrapped up in a blanket and being carried away by the city man. Apparently the money that'd been put in was supposed to be for his eye surgery which even he didn't know about, and someone had reported him for child trafficking (which was strange to Coco who didn't know what the word meant and also didn't know there were other children involved). 

The two found themselves in the streets and quickly lost the money they'd earned with the city man's panicked spending and though Coco danced, the people simple walked by- there was nothing interesting to watch there. Just another hungry child desperately making money. Coco pushed the city man to rob several convenience stores and even suggested to do it himself, but the strong money maker of a man had fallen into paranoia. He couldn't decide between "Yes rob them, give me their money" or "No, we'll get caught don't do it." So Coco got angry and broke the man's legs with a pipe in his sleep before running off on his own. 

It became a sort of back and forth of him being handed from one tricky mind to another, Coco learning the way they spoke or thought so that he could become a fitting right hand. Any time they showed a bit of hesitation or weakness- be it in physicality or mentality- Coco would leave. 

Once, he found himself alone without him meaning to- a robbery had gone botched and the police saved him, the "hostage", from his source. Coco cried and followed after the police officer who tried to lead him to his parents, and managed to escape. He was twenty four and lost, not having planned this escape. An array of bad luck hit him like a storm. His natural mysterious charm failed to attract any one willing to take him in- a child began to be seen as a burden and no one dared think Coco was anything more. He made his living by picking the pockets of dead people in the gutters, selling rubbish for a coin. It seemed he hit the jackpot, however, when he found a body with a box of unopened cigarettes and a lighter. Each cig was a coin more than usual, and to celebrate, he kept the lighter with him. It seemed to bring him luck, as immediately after he sold his last cigarette, a woman offered him half her sandwich. She then took him under his wing and Coco's familiar rotation started up once more.

Powers:
Upon arrival at Kite, Coco has realized something strange about his body. Yes, he is still small and flexible, and yes he feels a bit lighter despite at the same time still being hungry, but there was something else. His eye, for one, was healed and though the upgrade was jarring at first, he found it worked much like his left. What did work differently was his body. He'd never felt freezing cold before except for when eating ice cream, but sometimes his body would become chilled. Other times his body would flare up with heat- unbearable, fiery heat like the hot summers of his homeland. He can transfer these temperatures onto other things, and can either be cold enough to freeze something he touches, or light it on fire. Either one is an uncomfortable feeling though- like having rubber bands tightly wound around your body.

Personal Motive:
Some peace would be nice, he thinks. He wants some time where he doesn't have to worry much about eating or money, and just sit for a while. Coco doesn't know if he wants to go home or stay in Kite, but he does know he just wants some down time.

Mementos:
Coco carries around with him a small white Bic lighter that he can't light unless with his left hand. There's a blue smudge of ink on its side, and he's not sure if it was once writing or just a smudge. He's also got a chain necklace with a cross charm on it that he likes touching- it's one of the nicer things he found in the trash. Probably isn't real gold, but who cares, it feels right around his neck. 

I will draw a picture for his face soon and maybe his body but lmao bodies are hard so maybe not also sorry about his bio I have too much time on my hands )))))): you don't have to read it lmaoo youre not missing out much

☼ the light barely made it's way in the small room ☼

the smell of mixed chemicals
the sound of her heart racing
his steady breathing...

there was only one way to describe the meeting--
explosive

Nanase "Nana" Mio

Typically, Nana tried not to get caught. If she got caught, she'd get reported, teachers would get involved and when teachers got involved, parents got involved and God so help her if she wanted to be in the same room as her mother, even if there was a teacher in with them. So, as to avoid parental confrontation, Nana did her best to be a troublemaker, but not get caught. 

As it was, the tiny girl was bad at it. She was found out and reprimanded half the time, the smell of tobacco on her skin and the sour speech she spoke was a telltale sign to mostteachers that this one was a troublemaker. Today was no different, a fight during lunch by the cafeteria landing her straight to the nurses, and afterwards, as the day ended, detention. 

Yes, Nana planned on skipping detention, yet here she was, walking down the hallway with a teacher behind her, metaphorical leash tight around her neck. Her arm throbbed, freshly bandaged yet already seeing hints of red. The fight got a bit intense, and Nana would be pissed of the other kid didnt get in detention as well. The teacher opened the door, pushing the young teen in with a grunt, Nana fighting back the urge to spit in his face. 

Looking at the empty science lab, she asked, "The fuck? Where's everyone?" 
"The other kid's still in the nurse," the teacher said, pointing to a seat- universal sign for 'take a seat'. "He'll have detention some other day. Another punk's joining you here today- try not to pick a fight."
Nana scratched the bandaid on her cheek as she sat down, muttering a cliche, "No promises," as the teacher placed a slip of paper in front of her seat. Disciplinary Essay. She's pretty much rehashed the same one the last fourteen times, and today would be no different. 

She'd already started to reach in her skirt pockets for a pen when the sound of the door opening caught her attention, her eyes lifting in curiousity.

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