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• •• •   @chiefmathias   The rusted chains holding up the porch swing groaned in protest as Mathias gently rocked back and forth, gaze fixed on The Hanging Road clearly visible in the night sky. Mathias had always likened The Milky Way to a giant crack in space, only ever changing in color depending on how the light of the sun reflected off the swirling gasses and space dust–equally ominous and majestic. Having been raised with both Christian and Traditional teachings, Mathias had never been sure what he believed about the afterlife. Nor had he ever really given it much thought beyond his own selfish desires of not dying anytime soon, but staring up at the mottled band of blues and purples now, he couldn’t help but wonder what existed beyond this life, and where the people he loved had ended up. The creak of the screen door drew his attention and he looked over at Henry Standing Bear, a man Mathias had known his entire life but had always been at odds with until recently. “May I join you?” Mathias’s gaze returned to the stars above. “It’s a free country, Standing Bear. At least that’s what they say.” Unperturbed by Mathias’s usual ambivalence, Henry made his way over, waiting for Mathias to reluctantly make room on the swing. “I think Jules has nearly lulled Nell to sleep.” “You two didn’t need to stay.” “A simple ‘thank you’ would suffice,” Henry rebuked without any real annoyance. Mathias’s only acknowledgement was a slight purse of his lips and pinch of his brow. Silence stretched between them for a long moment before the police chief spoke again. “Seems like we all should have all gotten together before something like death. Maybe having more people around her would have kept her away from the drugs.” Although Henry doubted that, he did not verbalize his disagreement, watching as Mathias pushed his lips out towards the stars above to guide Henry’s gaze there. “Which fork do you think she’ll take?” Henry considered both the stars and the question for a long moment before answering. “I do not think it matters what I think.” “Just humor me, Henry. You know I don’t really believe in this sh*t much anyways.” Henry gave Mathias a reproachful look, knowing the man had far more respect for the beliefs of their people than he was letting on. He turned his attention back to the Milky Way above them. “I would like to believe that even those whose lives were shadowed by darkness are able to walk the long fork to Seana. After Mingan…” Henry’s voice grew thick with emotion and Mathias looked over at the other man with understanding. “I have to believe that he was not forced to walk the suicide road, and I do not believe your sister would suffer it either.” “I don’t know what I think anymore,” Mathias admitted, eyes lifting once more to the heavens. “When my dad died, I wanted him to take the short fork…or just go straight to Hell altogether. I didn’t care which god was up there or what afterlife existed as long as he got his punishment. But when mom died…I wanted to believe she was headed wherever good people go. Heaven, the camp of the dead… Didn’t matter, as long as she got there.” Henry waited for him to continue, but Mathias seemed to be stuck on a memory from the past. “What about Kyanna?” He gently prompted. For several moments Henry wasn't sure Mathias would answer, even though he could see the question twisting in the other man's mind. “I love my sister, I do…but life with her was never easy. The running away, the drugs, getting pregnant and ending up in prison for possession with the intent to distribute,” he scrubbed his hands over his face and leaned forward, his elbows on his knees as he tried to find the right words. “I’m not sorry for Nell’s life and I would take her in and raise her all over again if I had to, but I never forgave Ky for putting me in the position of having to do it. There’s a part of me that’s pissed that she relapsed and OD’d before I ever got the chance to forgive her. That part of me wants her spirit to suffer–for me, for Nell, for all the sh*t she caused in her life that I had to clean up…but the other part of me just wants her spirit to finally be at peace.” Guilt and grief coalesced within him, sitting heavy on his heart and choking him with a sudden wave of emotion. He hadn’t cried since he’d found her unresponsive on the bathroom floor, but now the tears were burning his eyes. He pressed his thumbs into the corners, trying desperately to hold them back, but they burst through the dam regardless. He had only ever cried in front of Henry once before. The day Mingan had died; the day everything had changed between them. Their grief had been shared in that moment, but now Mathias was keenly aware that he was the only one breaking down. He couldn’t wipe the tears away fast enough, and Henry’s hand settled on his shoulder to offer solace in the moment. “I’m so sick of all this sh*t.” His voice sounded as broken as his spirit felt, and he gave in to the tears–letting them course down his face, falling to the ground between his feet as they dripped off his cheeks and chin. “The f***ing poison that’s killing our people–killing my family.” Henry drew in a deep breath before releasing it slowly. “You and I both want to see the drug trafficking end on the rez–.” “It isn’t just the f***ing drugs,” Mathias interjected hotly, wiping his face with his sleeve and pushing off the swing to pace the porch in his anger and despair. “It’s all of it! Between the mob bringing in the drugs, The Red Pony poisoning our people with alcohol, and the bleach boys coming in here and raping our women, how am I supposed to do my job? How am I supposed to save anyone?!” “You cannot save people from themselves,” Henry rose from the swing, stepping into Mathias’s path to stop his pace, forcing the other man to look him in the eye. “All you can do is limit their access. Now that I have control of the casino, there is one less avenue for drugs to be brought onto the rez. Jules knows when to cut someone off at the bar, when to take their keys, and who not to serve, just as I did. Would you rather our people go to another bar where the same considerations would not be given?” “And what about when Jules leaves and hands the bar off to someone else? You really think she’s gonna stick around the rez for good? Come on, Henry. She may be content now, but the day’s going to come when she’ll want to leave again. You can’t oversee the casino and the bar.” “While I appreciate the faith you have in myself and Jules to help keep the problems in check, it is also unfair to place that burden on us. It is not lost on me how difficult your job is, and how little support you have, but the problem is bigger than the three of us.” As much as he didn’t want to admit it, Henry was right. Leaning both hands on the porch rail, Mathias closed his eyes and hung his head, feeling the weight of it all pressing down on him. “Maybe we retired Hector too early.” “I do not think even the real Hector could have prevented all of this, less so with me acting in his place.” Henry moved closer and placed his hand again on Mathias’s shoulder. “I know it does not seem so right now, but you did not fail her, Mathias.” “I need to be angry with someone right now, and since she’s not here for me to be mad at…” he let the words hang in the air between them. “For what it is worth…” Henry paused long enough that Mathias looked over at him in question, finding earnestness in his gaze that was as unsettling as it was comforting. “You are not alone.” Emotion swelled in Mathias, threatening to make him break down again. “I need to take a walk.” He nodded towards the house. “Can you stick around until I get back? Tell Jules…” he paused, jaw trembling as he thought about his orphaned niece, now completely in his care. “Tell her I can’t thank her enough for helping with Nell.” Henry nodded, letting his hand slide off Mathias’s shoulder as the other man stepped around him and off the porch. Mathias was a few yards away before he turned back. “Standing Bear…” He waited for Henry to look at him. “Thank you.”

                                Too Many Tears   "Tell me baby, where did I go wrong?"August 1990 2:30 in the morning.It had been nearly three weeks since Tawny had walked out after an explosive argument that honestly David had really no recollection of what it had been about. Words had been said in anger, that he desperately wished he could take back, from both of them. He glanced to his left on the table of his hotel room that he’d been sitting at, at the smoldering cigarette that lay precariously on the ashtray but he didn’t pick it up, or even have any desire to finish smoking it.He glanced at the pen and hotel stationary before him. He needed to vent and get these damned feelings out and in the open, before it began eating him from the inside out. Grabbing the pen, he began scribbling down lyrics.“I used to be the man for you.Did everything you wanted me to.So tell me baby, where did I go wrong?” He paused for a moment and glanced at the words he had written down and inhaled sharply. Already it was off to a damned good start, and there was no better option than to continue.“I told you everything you wanted to know. Precious secrets never spoken before.All I’m askin’, where did I go wrong?” It only took him at least fifteen minutes to pen the lyrics in their entirety. Folding it, he placed the paper in the inner pocket of his leather jacket so he could take it to the studio so he could work on the composition in the morning, as he was determined to get the blasted thing finished before the gig he had at the end of the week.He’d hoped that Tawny would understand that this wasn’t a jab at her in the slightest. In fact it was actually quite the opposite, and sometimes there was also a hidden message in the songs as well, messages that a normal listener would not pick up on, but only the intended would be able to pick up on. Pushing back the chair, he stood and walked to the window and looked out onto Los Angeles, wondering just what Tawny was up to at this very moment. More than likely sleeping, or….no. He wouldn’t go there. He didn’t want to think of a worst case scenario. He just couldn’t understand where he had gone wrong, and why a passionate relationship had come to be in tatters.He turned toward the door, grabbed a pack of cigarettes, stuffed it into the inside pocket of his leather jacket and headed out of the hotel room allowing the door to click shut behind him. At least at three o'clock in the morning, he wouldn’t have to worry about fans clamoring around him for autographs. That wasn’t to say he didn’t love the attention. Hell, he adored it. He wouldn’t be in this business of making music otherwise. But then again, right now everything seemed extremely superficial. Tawny was his muse, the inspiration behind most, if not all of his music and honestly with this, he wasn’t sure how he was going to pull through.Luckily, the beach was only a few hundred yards away and he made it there in only a few moments, extracted the pack of cigarettes, tapped it in his hand and extracted a cigarette and placed it between his lips. He then fished for his lighter and lit the cigarette. He removed it from his lips and exhaled the smoke slowly while staring out at the ocean.“Jesus Christ, Tawn.” he said, and glanced at his left hand still bearing his wedding ring. He took another long drag from the cigarette, snuffed it out and tossed the butt into a nearby rubbish receptacle. Looking over his shoulder he noticed an all night diner. Perhaps just a cup of coffee and maybe a little something to eat, but first he was going to see if there was a payphone and try to call Tawny. This silence between them could not go on any longer.He crossed the deserted street and walked inside, and greeted the hostess. “There a payphone here?”The hostess nodded and pointed at the entrance. “You just passed it actually. It’s just inside the door.”David turned and looked over his shoulder. “Ah, I must have missed it.”“Wait…aren’t you David Coverdale of Whitesnake?” the woman inquired while closing the register.David chuckled. “So I’ve been told. Let me call my wife really quickly, then I’ll order something and you can have an autograph." Before the woman could answer, David had crossed the room and approached the payphone, put a couple quarters in and dialed Tawny’s number and waited for her to pick up.“Hello?” Came the familiar voice on the other end. Her voice sounded ragged and tired, and it seriously concerned him. He took a seat on the small bench just behind him.“Tawny, It’s David. Don’t hang up, baby, please.”There was silence on the line for a while and he feared she had hung up, until. “I’m here, David. I’m just not doing good right now. I…I miss you.” he could tell she was on the verge of tears.He glanced outside for a moment. “I know, baby. I miss you too. If I could I would come home tonight, but I’ve got a recording session tomorrow and then a show at the Black Cat. Why don’t you meet me at the show on Friday night and we can talk afterwards?”“Okay. Baby, I’ll have to get something to wear in the meantime. I know what the dress code is at the Black Cat. But I’ll be there, I promise. What time does the show start?”“Seven o’clock. And baby, I am sorry about the outburst. I shouldn’t have lost my temper. I love you, Tawny.”BR> Again there was silence on the other end of the line. “I love you too, baby.”He sighed. “Baby, I’m going to get me something to eat. I’ll talk to you later, okay?”“David?”“Yes, love?”Again there was silence on the phone.“Tawny?” There was no response, so he figured she must have fallen asleep. He smiled softly, then gently placed the phone back in the cradle and walked back into the diner. . "We've got nothing in common."   CREDIT: WU SHIFU    

I am placing the backstory of Kian and Key's childhood traumas here, some may not want to read it.  It does involve a lot of abuse.  I left out a lot of detail for this reason, but if you are sensitive this sort of content, do not read any further.  Kian and Key's parents were really young when they had them, they couldn’t keep jobs, they were leaving the babies with whoever to party and the Dad would beat the Mom etc.  So when they were three, they were sent into the system.  In foster care, their foster parents just wanted the check and the benefits that come with taking in kids, but they kept them locked up, either in the basement, or in a shed, barely fed them, would beat them…it was really bad.  So, eventually those people got in trouble, and they went back into the system.  Their next family was worse.  This foster dad sexually abused Keylee and Kian found out and to make sure he didn’t say anything the dad made him do things to her too. And that’s kinda how the blackmail kink for Kian started. Kian has never gotten over not being able to save Keylee form this man, nor the guilt of being forced to hurt her too, and to make matters worse, the Dad also forced Kian to do other things…not to be mentioned.  That is why he is more f***ed up than Key’s.  When the teens were 17, finally their parents got them back but it was never the same and that’s why they are so close and only trust and depend on each other. 

full name : leo sean campbell.birthday : june 22nd, 2000.place of birth : new york city.current location : new york city.occupation : part-time server/bartender @ fish heads bar & grill.college : nyu / future lawyer.faceclaim : sean kaufman.likes + : surfing, hanging with friends, outside concerts (mainly festivals), traveling (preferably outside of the states), takis and coconut milk (together), dressing up for special occasions, video games, frat parties, studying with groups (loves showing off how smart he is), university apparel, tom ford, anything versace, new york city, helping out at shelters, marijuana, rum, minty fresh bubble gum, thinking about his future.dislikes - : liars, cheaters, people who don’t know how to end arguments (people who need to have the last word – even though he’s one of those people), late night homework deadlines, the thought of failing himself and his loved ones, people who smell bad, glitter (probably because one of his crazy ex-girlfrieds put a bunch of glitter in his jeep at one time), crazy ex-girlfriends, when people double dip in his condiments, the smell of nightclubs (body sweat), the feeling of seaweed between his toes, having to leave his family for school.bio : coming soon. full name : poppy rae bloomberg.birthday : november 14th, 1998.place of birth : nashville, tennessee.current location : miam, florida.occupation : content creator / influencer / exotic dancer. and occasionally does hair for her close friends.college : beauty school (graduated) / certified cosmetologist.faceclaim : @puke_bunny.likes + : coming soon.dislikes - : coming soon.bio : coming soon.more muses coming soon . . .

coming soon.

She makes her way across the waxed floor towards Elektra with both hands behind her back and this soft little smile on her face, and she thinks about them hiding away together, sharing secrets in dark corners, shyly dancing around conversations they have wanted for so long to have.As time passed, it was becoming more rare to find themselves among the same crowd; both had dedicated their time to discovering themselves, and there’s so much to learn when you’re a teenager, finding your footing in the world, learning about people, their experiences, as well their motives.Elektra looks up from her shoes and blandly meets Cristina’s gaze. “Hiding?" Cris teases Elektra gently, bringing both hands around in front of her to fold them together against her thighs. "I'm surprised to even see you here."Elektra lifts both arms to her chest and crosses them tightly, as if protecting herself from Cris. "No drink to keep you hydrated?" Cris asks lightly. She will not give in to this cold treatment from El, though it doesn’t bother her as much as it should anyone else. You see, Elektra has always been tight-lipped when something bothers her, and lately looked at Cris in exactly this way with exactly this same dispassion, this... lacking. There are times when Elektra looks at her with something more, but it seems she doesn’t want to give in now; but Cristina wants her to peel away her mask and step into her trap.  "What are you doing?" Elektra poses the question, knowing she is not going to like the answer. Cristina pulls back just slightly, and her hands softly pat the fabric of her dress as she pretends to smooth over some inexistent wrinkles. "What? What am I doing?" Nothing about Elektra’s face changes. She is a stone, something to be dashed against, hurled screaming up across all her smooth-granite angles. Cris is going to break herself against Elektra this night, she knows, as long as she cracks her open just a little bit. “Invading my personal space?” But it was going to take a miracle.  She understands why Elektra this aloof being; she could sense it from the opposite of the hall when a man, roughly their same age walked in minutes after a pretty blonde, together but not really, as if they wanted to spare feelings in that room filled with so many faces, what was his name? Dalton with a ridiculous-something-last name, behind them was Renzo holding the arm of his shiny new toy. Cristina and Elektra exchanged a particular furtive glance, a look of embarrassment, and a little hurt, trying to sink to the very bottom of their emotions.  Elektra is irked; Cristina knows this. She gets this: she too has locked herself away in isolation from people, for so long that she can smell this out instantly in an another person. And though people admire her, they do not know her, and they do not want to; she has been built up into an illusion, and to know her would be to topple her from that perch. She’s full of imperfections, you see? They do not know Elektra either, and in a way, Cristina knows that Elektra knows; they are so much alike in that aspect.  Tonight is one of those moments when they are twinning souls, except one wants distance and the other one clings, because Cristina just wants to be understood. She wants someone to tell her what she feels isn’t all that, that there are others experiencing this same sting inside the chest, but Elektra isn’t the type to speak about feelings, and she is absolutely not one to talk about their ex-boyfriends loving someone else. Because how petty would that be? Elektra doesn’t realize it until she notices Cris sinking beside her, crestfallen.  The hallway is full of air that smells like hypocrisy, expensive alcohol, and prissy flowers, and she sucks it down deep and holds onto it tight. Elektra is not even exactly sure what it is that comes out of her mouth; she just needs to f***ing get out of there, but she can’t do that; she just doesn’t have it in her to run away, because why should she? Why should she feel like she doesn’t belong in that place too?"Truth or dare?” — El spat.“Hmm?” — the alcohol is making Cris sleepy, which only means she should have more of it.“Truth or dare. It’s always a choice between the two in life. Dare me, or have my secrets.”Elektra pastes a smile on her face and pops her knuckles and her neck. Cris wants to ask her exactly what she means, but she did not waste such a big, once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. Elektra was cracked open, and Cristina ran her soft little fingers along the edges with such care.  “You first!” —Cris squeaks.  “I dare you to... reach the tower of glasses of champagne on the other side of the hall.” Elektra looks straight ahead, silently calculating the number of people barricading the hall, wondering if she could push them all away softly or if massacring them all would be acceptable. Their race begins as the next song starts. Decorum grounds them, keeps them from rudely dismissing the people that stop them from exchanging dry conversations and boring greetings. “I’m doing good, yes. I graduated this year. Cold winter indeed.” Cris smiles at Elektra from time to time, and El looks at her as if she’s certain she’s got this challenge under the belt. Like everything else, Elektra loves winning anything that requires physical movements.  They reach the other side, and her arms reach for two flutes of bubbly that promise not only relief to their dry mouths but respite from their heavy hearts.  “Truth.” Cris says, without thinking, and before the champagne reaches the bottom of her stomach, a third person is standing next to them, but Cris is somehow invisible to his eyes.  “I know this isn’t the best time to say this, but I hope you don’t mind seeing me around.”    “See me here”“See me here”See him here, with that vapid blonde?Cristina wants to scurry away, feeling her face hot with something like embarrassment. Unfortunately for her, she was caught in Renzo’s frame of vision, and their eyes locked for a moment, so she turns around again, facing Elektra and the man having an intense staring contest, though there was a dangerous, almost nonexistent smile playing on Elektra’s lips.    "Are you kidding?” —She finally drawls. Taking the nerve to offer Cristina a wink.    “I need to be alone with my hand for a few minutes now.” —Elektra continued. “This kind of sh*t just turns me on." —Cristina is shocked, and she chokes on her drink. She lifts an eyebrow, tilts her chin just slightly up, and makes a contemplative squint of her eyes, and gets the uncomfortable feeling that she sees all the cracks, fault lines, and imperfections that piece Elektra together beneath the surface. Yes, she wanted to crack her open tonight, but not like this!?    She remembers then, the mantra she always repeats to save herself from showing too much emotion: You never let them see the cracks, so this sh*tshow ends f***ing now, because no one, not even their exes, or hopefuls whatever they are, have no right to see any of the two them this way, cracked open, vulnerable, with the words dancing on the tip of their tongue, ready to say everything they wanted to say.    “Elektra, stop.”  Elektra’s hands are shaking. She turns them into fists at her sides and spins abruptly on her heel, calling out something over his shoulder. Cris is not even exactly sure what it is that comes out of Elektra’s mouth; she just needs to f***ing get her out of here.  "shut up." Cristina turns back toward the door, Elektra’s hand in hers, their fingers knitted together, her back straight, head high, and Elektra can't remember a time when Cristina didn't stand like that, perfectly aligned from head to toe, that perky little goddamned nose in the air as she looks back at her, and she sees this little smile of satisfaction.

1. NO Drama will be tolerated. Please refrain from talking about those idiots with hate blogs.  2. I have a lot of Health problems and I am sometimes not able to do much other banter on status some days. ( I have Lupus (SLE) )3. I do mostly multi para.4. Open to relationships but extremely picky.5. I RP on my phone mostly and sometimes there are typos., Oops, sorry. 6. Status banter is fun!! Please comment!! 7.  I don't mind doubles. I love seeing the different portrayals. (like multiple Alastors and such)8. No rp sex whatsoever.9. As of now I do not have my Charlie with Vaggie. Open to other relationships (Man or Woman) 

• Drabble # 1• Becoming A Løve!• 450 Words Total  ⁂¶ Amelia smiled as she walked the forest as she headed home from school. She was allowed to leave and walk home on her own - her mother had told the school that, when they had asked about her getting home.¶ Today something in the air was different. A feeling of doom, ran through the light brown haired girl as she approached the edge of the forest. ¶ She didn't know what was going to happen nor what she would become. All she knew was that she had to tell her mom about her day. Like everyday, she and her mom would talk about their day and what the next day would bring. Their hopes and dreams for what they would like tomorrow to be.¶ Amelia skipped up to her house and paused on the first step as the door was open and her Mother with a strange man was on the other side. This stranger had her mother by the throat was had hazel glowing eyes. Her Mother tried to speak, but the stranger, gripped her throat tighter and then jabbed long hooked claws through her back into her front, killing her. ¶ The young girl froze in horror, tears welling up in her eyes and slowly began to run down her cheek as she watched her mother be killed in front of her. She watched as her mother's dead body hit the floor with a loud THUMP. Amelia swallowed hard, trying to pull back the tears as the man-beast stood before her.¶ Her anger soon turned to rage, though. She let out a human-like growl and rushed up the stair, flung the screen door open and attacked her mothers attacker. She could tell that the attacker was stronger then her, but she fought on using her rage as fuel. ¶ A few minutes later the two were still fighting, she had grabbed a poker though and thrusted it at the guy and connected with his neck. She gabbed it further in, nearly killing him. This however, triggered something inside her, forcing her to her knees. ¶ Pain like she never felt before, corced through. Tears fell from her eyes, and she shook with pain and anger. Her body changed and her hands turned to claws, sharp and curved. Using her claws, she slashed the other beasts, neck open killing him. She felt more pain as her body turned and twisted until she was engulfed in her lioness form. Now as a lioness, she trashed the place and then left running for the woods, and the painful event that had just taken place. ¶ Amelia would never forget the event, but would soon learn to move forward with the help of others who would become family. She didn't understand what she had become or what she would be in the future. Sure her mother told her stories about were-lions, but to become one? She didn't believe until now. ¶ Now she was something. Something strange and new that she would have to figure out. But would she figure it out on her own, or she have help. The answer will soon be figured out.⁂

                                                                               ♰   Rules Of The Chosen One ♰   These are my rules and I hope everyone will read and follow them.    Rule #1: I want to explain this and it’s time that I say this. I always loved Buffy The Vampire. It was my favorite show and Buffy was my favorite character. So I want to say this loud and clear. I know because she’s a popular character and everyone loves to roleplay her. But please keep in mind I am not here to cause problems. I'm here to have fun  and roleplay her my own way and you guys like to roleplay her like the tv show and that’s completely fine but please don’t add me and spy on my account just because you see another Buffy.  I find that rather rude because you might think I'm roleplaying better than you but I'm not.    Rule #2: Role Playing: This account is a Buffy The Vampire Slayer roleplay account. Which means I like to roleplay with anyone who is interested in roleplaying with her.    Rule#3: Friends: I will only add people who are interested in roleplaying with her. I will block those who are jerks to her. Buffy The Vampire Slayer theme characters are allowed. Vampire characters are allowed too.   Rule#4: Connections: Buffy is indeed looking for a man/ boyfriend. She doesn’t need an Angel like everyone else but likes to have someone to love. But keep in mind she will not add someone who is already taken by someone else that doesn’t seem fair.    Rule#5: Themes: I like to write Dark themes, meaning a vampire/ human theme, nothing bad about it. Just understand that I like to plot  so let’s brainstorm together when we want.    Rule#6: No ghosting meaning don’t roleplay with my character for a few minutes then stop roleplaying the next I find that rather rude and I will block you. It’s either you don’t like the roleplay or you went to bed or something out of the blue. Or you are not interested in my character.    Rule#7: Mature Content: I like to write Mature Content but keep in mind just don’t add me just because you just want to knock my character up. I find that rather rude, so if you want to just be on here to knock her up you will be blocked end of story. I love having sex. (let’s take it to discord and I will certainly tell you) (More to come) 

Name: Aoki aka Meat ScumAge: 26Playby: Chainsaw ManThe face of Meat Scum: 3.bp.blogspot.com/-ba5sCNeneFc/VXKccMprlPI/AAAAAAAATOM/bwr3diinwis/s1600/necronomIIIa.png(Pic related is not really his true face.)Aoki is a human male that is currently in bondage with the Biology Devil as an exchange for letting it cure his terminal brain cancer. This guy's a piece of work. As Meat Scum, which he considered himself, his entire skin is peeled off to reveal new, red demonic meat with the "brain" replacing much of his head, save for the nose and jaws.He can mainly turn himself into a biomechanical weapon, limited by the pain he constantly suffers and his current state. Like other devils, a lack of blood can render Meat Scum useless. When he is human again, don't count on him to transform back instantly unless you want to see him perish by literal melting. He unfortunately has to wait.From an unknown origin, a biomechanical machine or structure may be found anywhere at his convenience.

Name: LynchAge: 27Playbys: SIGNALIS(If you try to represent his face as a shounen anime character or 3D people, I will eat a cricket and shove my leg up your f***ing Yellowstone, bitch.)Young guy of Caucasian descent. Black hair. The sides and back are shaved by number three, while the top and front are long enough to be probably suited as a natural cap.As far as I know, this one was originally from the Empire, but let's just say that life in his later 20s didn't go so well. Heartbreak. Depression. Personal and financial issues. It was no wonder that he enlisted himself in the Empire's military through Buyan's recruitment center.He did good as a rifleman, but something snapped in his head. PTSD aside, he also felt that something is wrong with the Empire and he felt drawn to the Eusan Nation's ideals and imagery. Long story short, he mutinied and defected to the Eusan Nation. Stole a small ship before the authorities could catch him as he left Buyan to space.In a later time, which is now, he recently crashed into Leng, near a mining facility called Sierpinski. Armed with only a knife, and equipped with the uniform he stands in and the last few rations left in the ship, he crawled out into the snow and had been trying to sneak inside said facility for warmth.Good luck, scum.

This is D*ckwad's character sheet should he be placed in the Warhammer Fantasy universe. He is fit to be a squire despite being a hedge knight, as he was only knighted the day before he tolchocked his family and rode away from his home.WS: 26BS: 26Strengh: 25Toughness: 24Agility: 26Willpower: 45Fellowship: 20Intelligence: 39Attacks: 1Wounds (aka health): 14Str bonus: 2Toughness bonus: 2Movement: 4Insanity Point: 0Fate Point: 3(Skills and Talent in Career, both related and non related)CAREER: SQUIREWS Bonus: 15BS Bonus: 5Str Bonus: 5Toughness Bonus: 5Agility Bonus: 5Fel Bonus: 5Attacks Bonus: 1Talents: Etiquette, Specialist Weapon Group (Cavalry), Strike Mighty Blow, Coolheaded, LuckSkills: Common Knowledge (Brettonian), Animal Care, Animal Training, Charm, Dodge Blow, Ride, Speak Breton, Common Knowledge (Empire), Gossip, Speak ReikspielEQUIPMENT11 crowns, 0 silver, 0 copperFull Chainmail (AP: 3)Mace (+0 Strength Bonus aka Damage)Heater shield

Name: D*ckwadAge: 26Playby: Medieval times. Maybe even Renaissance. Both applied to fantastical and non-fantasy worlds.D*ckwad is an impoverished knight who wanders around the land in search of tournaments, knightly or mercenary services.He is a young guy with messy, long black hair, and a face wearing a frown and usually droopy eyes. If they widen, you are f***ed. Either way, he has the look of a lad who went through some sh*t and had enough of it. No, don't ask for pictures, I can never find a perfect one for him.His armor is a full suit of chainmail. A coif and arming cap for his head, a long sleeved hauberk for the torso and arms, a gambeson underneath, and mail chausses for the legs. His weapons are a heatee shield and mace, because you definitely need maces to beat the ever living sh*t out of people, especially when they are armored.What's the story? Well D*ckwad was born nobility. His mom and dad are both countess and earl respectively, and he had a good, priveleged life. Typical of you noble kids. He later became a page in the court, followed by a squire when he is a teen. He was squire until at the age of 26 because for some f***ing reason he was always overlooked in knighting ceremonies. The prettier squires got the title. I bet my balls that the knights and lords like them pretty boys.Anyways. Throughout his life, his relationship with his parents and some peers were getting strained when he became disillusioned with nobility and saw how sh*tty nobles can be. His parents pressured him into getting to politics but he just couldnt grasp it in full.When he was FINALLY knighted, he was on the breaking point. He was told to marry some princess bitch to carry out the legacy, but because of his self doubts and choosing to be rather lonely than being hurt by a loved one in the future, he refuses.Under pressure, he finally snapped. He tolchocked and almost maimed his parents, donned the afromentioned armor given to him as a new knight, took his shield, stole a mace after curb stomping another noble, and escaped. He didnt manage to take a lance, rather he stole a horse and rode as far as he can into the wilderness before dumping it and ran off, never looking back.D*ckwad's money is now dwindling despite attending some tournaments or being hired for service for some time. Who knows what else is in store for our poor knight.The house may still be on alert for him when they are still butthurt at the fact that nobles can bleed.

Name: Moose (not his real name)Age: 26Playby: A cyberpunk world.Zombie cubicle. Salaryman. Corporate drone.Wake up. Food. Rail. Work. Food. Work. Rail. Food. Sleep.Wake up. Food. Rail. Work. Food. Work. Rail. Food. Sleep.Wake up. Food. Rail. Work. Food. Work. Rail. Food. Sleep.Wake up. Food. Rail. Work. Food. Work. Rail. Paycheck. Food. Sleep.Motivation declining. Divine Light Severed. You are a flesh automaton animated by neurotransmitters. Traverse the grid of death with the power of misery.No more. You had it. Take loans. Buy gear. Ready for a new kind of hustle.No. A NEW job. You f***ed up in your work. The mistake was severe enough to warrant a termination without a severance check. Eviction from corporate subsidized apartment imminent. You have 24 hours. You still owe 7k.The loaner is not patient when it comes to repayment with interest.

Summary: AU in that Etain told Darman about the pregnancy sooner.     Whoever said your life flashes before your eyes, before you die, was wrong. The thought passed briefly through Etain Tur-Mukan’s mind as she attempted to nudge herself a few centimeters to the left without falling over completely. Somehow, despite the fact that her body had gone numb and stiff from the cold of the Telosian nights and wintery days long ago, she was still feeling a little bit of pain from the metal fragment, part of the downed larty’s door she’d taken refuge in, digging into her shoulder blades. She had long stopped moving if she could help it, sharp pain lancing through her body every time she moved, and had stopped using the Force to scan for threats long ago. She also had no idea if the Redeemer was still in orbit or not, she had lost contact with the Redeemer days ago, when the attempted invasion of the Separatist-held city went very, very wrong in the matter of seconds. She didn’t even know how many standard days ago the resulting devastation had been, she had drifted in and out of consciousness since then. I know Intel screws up, Dar, but really? Do they screw up this badly? General Grievous. No one had warned her, nor the Jedi Knight accompanying her and the troops, that Grievous would be here as well. He’d made quick work of the Knight accompanying them, and she had a few precious hours to draw him away from the troops before he caught up to her. She’d given parting orders to the commander in charge – continue the campaign without me and alert the Redeemer. Do not come after me – and began to draw Grievous away from the troops. And her plan worked. Grievous followed her to the crash site where the Separatists had shot down two larties earlier that week. Where she knew there would be no men for Grievous to hurt.  But he nearly killed her in the process. Even days later – she couldn’t quite remember the number of sunrises she’d counted anymore – she was mildly surprised that she had woken up at all after Grievous finally threw her into the air, in the direction of the crashed larty that she now lay against. Her lightsabers were long gone, her wounds from Grievous still untreated and undoubtedly infected by now, there was a dull throb in the back of her skull, her face and hands numbed from the cold, skin tight with barely healed injuries, but she was still breathing. Somehow. In another life, she may have seen it as a sign from the Force, but now, after having lost her faith and trust in the only life she had ever known on Qiilura…she wasn’t so sure. Force, I miss you, Darman. I know we have our duties, but I’m sorry I didn’t get to see you one last time. Etain closed her eyes, shifting her thoughts back to Darman and Kad. Darman… she couldn’t tell where he was at the moment, just that he was alert and his attention was narrowed and focused – on a mission then. She withdrew her awareness, not wanting to disturb him. She could still feel Kad in the Force, through the bond that she’d had with him since his birth. Kad was content, and she hoped he still remembered her and Darman despite the little time the two got with him. Telling Darman that night about her pregnancy, when Kal introduced the baby to Omega Squad, had been absolutely terrifying, and it had taken a few more days for the two to reconcile afterwards. During the reconciliation, she had mentioned leaving the Jedi Order, once the war was over, so they could be a family. Darman had started imagining a future there, for the three of them. I’m sorry, Dar, that we won’t be able to get that particular future now. Etain let out a slow exhale, blinking when she slowly realized that the blurred gray-blue line she’d been staring at, for what felt like hours now, was actually the craggy tree line as the sun rose yet again. Another morning. She’d lived through another night. She closed her eyes, a twinge of despair fluttering in her stomach as she slowly realized she had already lost feeling in her fingers and limbs, and could not recall how long it had been like that. Not long now. She let out another slow exhale, watching the white puff of air dissipate into the skies. Her ribs were aching with each breath, she could still feel that. She closed her eyes, slowing her breaths to lessen the dulling pain. Dar. She could sense him again, still focused and alert on his task at hand. She tried not to distract him in those moments, but she also took a modicum of comfort in sensing his familiar presence. She then tried to withdraw, to let him work undisturbed, but his presence lingered, a calm and steady reassurance that she leaned against for the briefest of seconds before withdrawing her awareness further. But her concentration failed a few seconds later, she felt worn down from fatigue and injury.  He felt close enough now, actually, that she could almost imagine that he was there, on Telos Six, with his squad. He’d move carefully and purposefully through the trees, unhindered and not slowed down by bothersome Jedi trying to keep up with him. Maybe, he was listening to Fi’s wisecracks in the background comm chatter. Fi, who would be trying to spark a reaction from Atin while also providing a running commentary of any gleaned intelligence. Niner, she knew, would be reminding them to stay focused on the objective that Master Zey had given them prior to their deployment.  A spike of alertness from Darman brought her wandering thoughts back to reality. He’d spotted something. Etain tried to withdraw her awareness again, as to not distract him. He’d told her once, that he could sense when she was near him. She let a small exhale when her concentration slipped again, and she remained still, unable to summon the focus necessary for a complete withdrawal. Her eyes fluttered closed as she tried to once again pull back her awareness, as to not distract him. The resulting darkness was more…alluring, than she ever suspected, pulling her into its depths even as she clung to the threads of her bonds. Those she could not let go just yet.  There is no death, there is the Force. Alertness shifted to determination, and his presence grew stronger. She wasn’t sure if she imagined the sound of soft crunching of dirt, twigs and leaves that was slowly coming close to her. She heard a soft clicking, one she’d heard many times as the men removed or sealed their helmets, but her eyelids felt too heavy for her to check. She tried to send a little reassurance to both Darman and Kad even as she felt her consciousness ebb from her grasp. The last thing she thought she heard was her name in a familiar whisper. A whisper that did not stop.