YoshiSkittlez

Incarceron - The Tales of New Ancora

Ghost Shadow and I are also working on a collab, though it has kind of come to my attention that I should probably post for Deon before I post the collab with Kate, so that's a thing I'll be working on. Should have a Deon post up either later tonight or sometime tomorrow. Hurray for days off from work!

Incarceron - The Tales of New Ancora

@Mach2 Welcome back Vagrant! Lol! I got her up in the character thread for ya, Mach :)
@Dark Light I'm sorry you've been having some bad days - it's something I'm sure we can all relate to so as your GM, if you feel the need to talk, you can always reach out to me in a PM. I've been told I'm a good listener :) Anyway, loved your first post. Think we can get one from Dorian as well some time soon?

Incarceron - The Tales of New Ancora

Played by Mach2

Name: Ariette “Vagrant” Forge
Age: 17. Though when asked, she always claims older.
District: 13
Occupation: Pick-pocket, smuggler, full-time low-life.

Appearance
Picture:


Physical Description:
At first glance, Vagrant is hardly what anyone would consider to be intimidating. She is young, and she looks it, standing at only 5'2" in height, including the soles of her shoes. However, looking a little closer, one can see she is more powerful than she initially appears. Though she is small, Vagrant is heavily athletic, and carries herself with the confidence of a giant. She is sturdily built, with muscles defined through her arms and shoulders, and a solid core.

The one weakness to Vagrant's powerful build is her left knee. An accident several months ago left the joint shattered. With the choice between months of natural recovery followed by months of physiotherapy, versus a buggy prosthetic, she chose the latter. The majority of her knee was replaced with a rudimentary cybernetic. Just advanced enough to allow normal function to the organic lower half of her leg, but well behind what New Ancora is capable of today. The joint moves less-than-smoothly, and occasionally locks up on her.

She typically wears her hair short, strands of dark red often falling into her face. Vagrant’s expression is often one of easy confidence, often bordering on arrogance. She has pale blue eyes, capable of turning icy when her temper is evoked.

Clothing and Equipment:
Vagrant's attire leans towards solid, comfortable clothing. She wants to dress in things that are easy to move in, and that will hold up to her rough lifestyle. Tank tops are her go-to, and dark cargo pants. She used to enjoy wearing shorts, but now chooses instead to hide her prosthetic knee. Her clothes are often stained with dirt and grime, but never blood. Vagrant hates blood. Her feet are protected by a pair of steel-toed boots, a size too large and stolen from a street fighter several years ago.

She lives out of her backpack, an old leather object that never leaves her shoulder. It contains her most prized possessions. Her changes of clothes; a crumpled photograph of her and Austin, taken when they were 4 and 11 years old; a set of spiked brass knuckles, previously owned by her brother; strips of cloth for wrapping her knuckles; and whatever money she happens to be in possession of, usually very little.

Personal Details:
Ariette Forge was born in District 15. Her family consisted of parents Scott and Jeanine Forge, as well as her brother Austin, seven years older than her.

From the time Ari was born until she turned four, the responsibility of looking after her fell largely to Austin. Their father, Scott, was a heavy drinker, and was constantly trying to find work. When he was at home, he was either drunk or hungover, and abusive to his wife and children. Jeanine, their mother, often committed acts of infidelity, cheating on her husband with other men. Austin saw his family disintegrating, and swore to save his sister from a life of domestic violence. When she was four, and he was eleven, the two of them ran away.

They stuck to the lower districts for the following years, losing themselves in the immense city. Austin quickly learned how to be streetwise. He mastered petty thievery, lying, arguing, and fighting. As Ari grew older, her brother became her hero. He was everything to her, best friend, brother, and father. He taught her how to survive, how to steal, and above all, how to fight. By the time she was ten years old, petite little Ariette could hold her own in a fight against an adult. Even her brother, a giant of a man by the time he was seventeen, would lose a fight against her on rare occasion.

She began to go by the nickname of Vagrant. It was the name people spat at her when she begged for change at street corners. It was the name that shopkeepers hissed when they realized that she had left with some of their wares. And it was the name that Austin laughingly called her whenever she completed some impressive task.

Despite the skill that the Forge children had, Zone Beta was still a massive slum, heavily populated with all sorts of shady folk. People died. Deals went wrong. No one was really safe. Not ever.

Vagrant was sixteen years old when her brother died.

Austin was a giant, nearly 6'6" in height, and weighing in at 250lbs. His build was solid muscle, and his icy gaze could strike fear into the hearts of those who tried to cross him. But even the strongest man has little chance when the fight is three on one. It was the simple result of a deal gone wrong. Weapons they had stolen for money to be spent on food. The deal turned sour, and a fight broke out.

Two of the men held Ariette roughly, and a devastating kick to the side of her knee sent her down. Bones shattered, and the injury would later result in a rudimentary prosthetic. The other three took on Austin. His life ended with a knife in his throat. Everyone ran before his heart had even stopped bleeding. Ariette’s brother died in her arms, bleeding out with her unable to do anything.

Months have passed, and Ari still mourns her brother. She knows they got away, and if she sees any of their faces again, she's promised herself that they won't walk away. In the meantime, she continues the daily struggles of your typical street urchin. Finding food, stealing coin, scamming and smuggling.

Personality
Vagrant is a confident person, to the point of arrogance. She tends to overestimate herself, and will take on tasks above what her skills allow her to do. However, she is fiercely determined and always performs to her fullest. Backing down from a fight, to Vagrant, is the highest level of cowardice.

Though she is instinctively skeptical and distrusting, Vagrant is loyal to the death when she becomes close to someone. The only one this has ever happened with before was her brother.

Vagrant is clever, though not intelligent. She likes to pick a fight against larger opponents, if only to prove that she can take them on. Her fiery temper is easily sparked, and she can hold a grudge.

Surprising, for one so prone to violence, Vagrant suffers from terrible hemophobia. She hates the sight of blood, and a nosebleed is usually enough to make her useless in a fight.

Incarceron - The Tales of New Ancora

So... what do you guys think? Should I open up for a few more, or make do with what we got? The posting here has been slow, is there anything my co-GM's or I can do to help that?

{ROLEPLAY CLOSED] - Through The Pages - Fairy Tale Roleplay (Private/ Invite Only)

Sebastian Beachley - Present Day - China Eastern Airlines Airplane

"No! Water! Wa-ter! The clear stuff. You know, H2O?" Sebastian groaned out in frustration as he tried to explain to the stuardess, who he was certain didn't speak a lick of English, what it was that he wanted to drink. It was a long flight from Shangai, China to Los Angeles, California - 14 hours to be exact, and the beverage cart only came around once every few hours. And each time it did, Sebastian would request water and end up with something else entirely.

"Ooh! Juice! You want juice?" The stuardess picked up one of the clear, plastic cups and started to pour him juice.

"Wa. Ter. Water. WATER!"

"Okay. Here juice." The stuardess handed Sebastian the beverage, a bright smile on her oriental face, seeming pleased about something Sebastian couldn't even fathom before she moved to the next row, speaking Chinese to get their order.

Sebastian had no choice, it was either juice or be parched for another few hours until they got his request wrong, again.

"Last time I take China Eastern Airlines." Sebastian grumbled to himself, slumping against the window of the plane and sipped at his juice.

It was quite the ordeal to travel from one side of the world to the other. Living in Australia and wanting a holiday to America took quite a bit of effort, and patience, something Sebastian wasn't exactly known for throughout any time of his life. First a car ride from Bells Beach to Melbourne, then a plane from Melbourne to Shangai - Shangai to Los Angeles and then finally, another plane from Los Angeles to Lake Tahoe where he could finally get to surprise his best friend, Eliza. The two of them hadn't been able to talk much lately, what with her snowboarding and his motocross seasons starting. It was sheer luck that brought the two of them to meet one another - a shared sponser that held certain world-wide events that had them bumping into each other quite often in their starting seasons. But as they got older, even though their Sponser stayed the same, their competitions grew more intense, and kept to their sport rather than a medly of various sports at the same time. They kept in contact though, Skype truly was a wonderful invention. They took turns taking time off to visit the other, once a year. And even though Sebastian had been the last one to visit, he knew that a surprise visit for Eliza's Snow Fest was just something he couldn't pass up. His last album release did really well with his band, landing him a few extra bucks he could spare for a spur-of-the-moment ticket, and now he found himself on an over-populated plane where he was sure he was the only one that spoke English.

Was the sun following the plane? Or the plane following the sun? With the drastic time zone difference between countries, Sebastian lost track of how it really all worked. It seemed to be daylight for hours, and then suddenly, nighttime. Did he sleep during two different nightime cycles? In only fourteen hours? It was highly confusing and his simple mind simply couldn't retain any more information.

He impatiently tapped at the window, subconsiously to a rhythmic beat he had been working on for their new album and counted clouds that hovered below them and tried to make shapes out of them to pass the time. The Asian male that sat next to him shot Sebastian a rather irritated look before adjusting the volume on the TV screen embedded into the back of the seat that was positioned in front of him, making sure his earplugs made a tighter seal and attempted to drown Sebastian out. It took every ounce of will power to keep Sebastian from making a face at the man, but he soon grew bored of his most recent way to stay entertained and sat back straight in his chair, tapping his fingers on his legs in the same beat.

"Alright." Sebastian squirmed around in his seat, trying to locate the seatbelt and eventually managed to free himself, standing up and let out a rather loud sigh of relief as he was able to stretch his legs. Then, turning to the man that kept Sebastian parted from the isle, he crossed his arms over his chest, trying to let the man know that he wanted out. When the man didn't even so much as give him a second glance, Sebastian loudly (and quite obnoxiously) cleared his throat, and when that didn't even work, he gently tapped the man's shoe with the toe of his shoe, which seemed to immediately get the man's attention.

"I gotta pee." Sebastian explained, though he didn't know why he bothered.

"Shénme." the man responded, giving Sebastian a rather bland look, which made the teen roll his eyes.

"Pee! Releasing of the waters! Draining the main vein! Relief!" Sebastian tried, hopeful that there was some kind of key word the man would understand, even if just to get him to move so he could go past.

"Nǐ shuō shénme?"

Sebastian groaned, throwing his hands up in the air in defeat.

"I don't speak Chinese! Why don't they have English speaking people on an international flight? This makes no sense! You know what? Forget it. Baked potato. Bicycle icicle, icing frosting Jack freaking Frost." Sebastian kept spouting off a slew of random words, his tone increasing in annoyance until finally the man started to get the hint and got up for Sebastian to move past him. "Bumblebee Tuna!" Sebastian waved off the man in a sort of thanks, taking to the isle to find one of the planes bathrooms that were hopefully unoccupied.

"God, Eli. The shit I do for you sometimes..."

Checking his watch, Sebastian groaned. He had another 10 hours to go.

Incarceron - The Tales of New Ancora

Alright, got the new character up into the character thread :)

Incarceron - The Tales of New Ancora

Played by Dark Light

Business man

"You do not know of the darkness in which I have walked."

<Name:/> Dorian Radshaw
<Gender:/> Male
<Age:/> 26
<Height:/> 5'9
<Weight:/> 190lbs
<Appearance:/>

This man is swathed in mystery and seclusion, much is always happening behind those deep intense eyes but that's where his thoughts stay.
Dorian is quite tall, his clothes are always in pristine condition and he takes great care to ensure his appearance is always at its best.

<Occupation:/>

<District:/> 9
Just got his pass to the Alpha zone
(Born in d17)

<Personality:/>

Dorian is actually quite shy and reserved, if not needed he would happily hide away in his office but unfortunately he is also an ambitious control freak, needing to keep an eye and hand on all his affairs.

He truly believes money equals power and is what makes and measures a man.
He despises nearly all drugs and cybernetic implants. He finds superiority in purity.

<Biography:/>

Dorian didn't see his mother the same way Clay did, nor did he despise the many men who tried to be his father as much as Clay did.
For most his young life he was sheltered from the worst of it.

Suddenly he was hit by the harsh reality of life as his safe little bubble came crashing down around him. Clay had left them, his temporary father soon to follow. His mother fell deathly ill and it was up to Dorian to support her.

It was too much for the young teenager. He tried his best but her decline was inevitable. Left all alone he continued his pursuit of income and was never satisfied. He blames his mothers death on their poverty, on himself.

'Nothing comes for free' the lesson Dorian has learnt from a lifetime of loneliness, clawing against all odds and misfortune to be where he is now. If destiny is truly predetermined then Dorian believes himself to have already defied the fate that the cosmos had laid out for him long ago. He lives his life expecting that at any second the grander powers that be will rectify his defiance.

Skills:

• Diplomacy
• Patience
• Observation
• Knife throwing
• Accounting

Likes:

• Order
• Even numbers
• Fine suits
• Expensive drinks
• Control
• Collectors knives

Disikes:

• Chaos
• Odd numbers
• Flaws in his appearance
• Cheap drinks
• Drug/Alcohol addicts
• Cybernetics
• Lazy people

Weakness:

• Emotional instability
• Need for order and control
• Gambling
• Greed

Incarceron - The Tales of New Ancora

Played by Dark Light

Bad Ass

"Ain't nothing come for free"

<Name:/> Clayton 'Clay' Radshaw
<Gender:/> Male
<Age:/> 28
<Height:/> 6'2
<Weight:/> 220lbs
<Appearance:/>

Clayton was always naturally fit and muscular, his lifestyle choices further emphasised that. He is heavily tattooed and wears nearly just as many scars.
Despite his warrior-like stature he has deep soft gentle pale blue eyes.
His attire usually consists of big boots, denim jeans and a leather jacket.

<Occupation:/>

Thug. What ever pays, from bar tending to muscle work or mechanical repairs. Clay has done many 'morally questionable' things. Some of which just to get by, others to live briefly in a taste of luxury and then there were those that were not of necessity but purely impulsive spite or pleasure.
Trying to stay clean, Clay currently works as a mechanic in a chop shop.

<District:/> 13
Practically calls 'The Spit' home.
(Born in d17)

<Personality:/>

Clay, while a bit rough-around-the-edges is pretty care free and easy going guy. He can be a little arrogant and over confident and extremely head strong and stubborn at times. He is pretty quick to resort to violence or at least threats, the strike first ask questions later type.
Character flaws aside he has a generally good heart and will make sacrifices for others. Behind his arrogance he doesn't really believe he is worth dirt, often denying his own happiness believing he must suffer for mistakes of the past. He's the kind of guy that trouble is attracted too.

<Biography:/>

There is no pleasant way to put it, Clay's mother was a whore. But as far as whores go, for their district anyway, she fought hard to maintain what little respect and dignity that such a profession would allow.
She stayed clean and honest always putting her children first.
The same could not be said for the many men who came into his life assuming the fatherly role.

Clay protected his little brother as best as he could from the loud yelling and crying, the many drunken and violent outbursts. Eventually a man came by that seemed alright until he led Clay away from his family into a life of trouble.
Clay left his mother and brother to work for this man for a while before being betrayed and venturing off on his own.

Clayton is currently on the run from only 'god knows what' but that darkness always follows him. So Clayton runs and runs, only stopping to drink, fight and fuck before hitting the road again.

<Other:/>
Skills:

• Brawling
• Drinking
• Mechanical repairs
• Riding motorbikes
• Endurance

Likes:

• Whiskey
• Women
• Fighting
• Motor bikes
• Leather
• Tattoos
• The number 13
  (Roughly in that order)

Dislikes:

• 'Intellectual' conversations
• Politics
• Wimps
• Sleeping
• His past
• Cats
• Rules & restraints

Weakness:

• Short temper
• Addiction to alcohol
• Pretty women
• Rejection to self happiness
• Being trapped (claustrophobia)

Incarceron - The Tales of New Ancora

@Dark Light You've got my green light, and it seems Mach is on your side. We will talk with the remaining co-GM and get his thoughts as well, but I don't see any reason as to not being able to keep both of them.

I'm gonna call Clayton Biker Bob now - only because I'm a bartender and he vastly reminds me of one of my regulars, Biker Bob.

I'd think Biker Bob would fit in somewhere in the higher of the lower districts. Maybe, 13? (He likes the number, right? XD)

Dorian... well it would kind of depend on how much money he's worth and how much influence he's got...

[High Casual, Low-Advanced] Incarceron - The Tales of New Ancora

@Dark Light Yes this is still open, however my co-GM has already made a character that almost describes what you've expanded on almost 100% lol. Pop on over to the OOC thread and take a look at what characters we already got. Granted, some are still being worked on like the cop with robo limbs, but feel free to ask :)