Post by Vespyr on Aug 25, 2009 12:24:09 GMT -8
PLEASE VISIT THE UPDATED BIO.
Firstly...
"Face to Face"--Siouxsie and the Banshees
"Feed Your Anger"--Combichrist
"Hunter"--YADE
"As Heaven Is Wide"--Garbage
"No One Lives Forever"--Oingo Boingo
"Cry Havoc"--Ashbury Heights
"Without You"--Breaking Benjamin
"Poetry"--The Crystalline Effect
"Girls With No Fear"--Neikka RPM
"Bulletproof"--Kerli
"And Then You Kissed Me"--The Cardigans
"Nocturne in C-sharp Minor"--Frederic Chopin
"Brick City Love Song"--Riding Alone For Thousands Of Miles
"Love The Way You Lie"--Eminem/Part II--Rihanna
"In Your Room"--Depeche Mode
"Walking In My Shoes"--Depeche Mode
"Vespyr", "Goddess of the Night", "Jane the Ripper"
Female (White - German/Irish blood) | 18 years in July 2011 | 5'11" | ~114 lbs
Defining Marks
Very light blonde, almost white hair that is shorter in the back and angled, longer framing the face, bangs covering right eye. (Occasionally with spikes in the back, like so) Sometimes dyed with dark blue or pink streaks. Dark, enticing violet eyes like the colour of amethyst; dilated pupils from deficient sun exposure. Silky smooth, pale-as-the-moon complexion, sometimes appearing sallow if in a depressive state. Dark black-cherry lips that curl into a rapacious grin, revealing sharp, pearly-white teeth. Occasionally wears silver lip rings.
Vespyr will sometimes wear masks to conceal her identity.
Bestial Skull Mask 1/ 2
Pale, fluent skin. Size 34B breasts. Usually wears a corset, black tank-top, or some other fitted black shirt and a black knee-length trench coat with abysmal pockets. Slender arms, graceful hands with willowy fingers adorned with elegant silver rings. Sharp, claw-like nails, painted black. Usually wears black fingerless gloves. Long, slender legs. Usually wears skinny black jeans. Size 8.5 foot; wears combat boots.
Often wears a sleek black uniform resembling that of the German SS.
Other Images:
...Nazi? | Sleeping... | Eh? | Creepy face :I
Hobbies/Talents/Skills
People watching | often means sitting on a parkbench, oberving other human beings as they go by. Vespyr has an uncanny knack for seeing through the disguises people wear and detects their motives, emotions, and inner fears with ease.
Homicidal Tendencies | A long day of people watching usually leads to people killing, another sick hobby of Vespyr's. Self-explanatory. The hobby has earned her the moniker of "Jane the Ripper", as she is referred to by citizens and authoritues who know of her dirty work but not of the face or the dark mind behind it.
Reading | Vespyr is a bibliophile and enjoys reading non-fictional text. She hates reading fictitious stories, thinking them to be pointless and stupid. She has a large collection of books, all of which are stolen, a majority being textbooks from the various schools she visits.
Drawing | Charcoal or other burnt matter being her medium, Vespyr is very artistic and doodles constantly. Her home os covered wall-to-wall with fantastical, often gorey and violent depictions of what she considers 'daily life'.
Sports | none
Clubs | none
Gangs | Vespyr was briefly involved in Gabriel Seran's plot to overthrow the student hierarchy of PHS #42 in San Francisco, CA. The plot failed. Vespyr disappeared from the city."I rejected the entire experience."
Vespyr works closely with Scene, but so far she hasn't agreed to partake in any of his plots or gang activities.
Vespyr holds a pending leadership position in a group called Remnants, led by "Unfettered".
Misc. | Vespyr does not attend school. She has never been properly enrolled, nor has any interest in doing so."The education system is inadequate, stupid, pointless, i'm better off by myself. I've gotten this far just fine, haven't i?"
Personality
Rather antisocial. Vespyr hates people and prefers to avoid them. If forced into a social situation, she becomes cynical, unfriendly, and often violent. However, when she isn't violently tearing people apart, Vespyr is rather civil. When in the presence of the very few people she tolerates, she is curteous and thoughtful, and enjoys meaningful conversations.
She is typically honest when she speaks, sometimes brutally honest because she doesn't see the point in beating around the bush or speaking in euphemisms. Most of the things she says are spoken for a good reason and are genuine truth reflecting how she feels or believes. If there is no legitimate reason to speak, she chooses not to."It is better to be a person who has a lot to say but speaks little than to be a person who has little to say but speaks a lot."
However honest she tends to be, if there is no legitimate reason to tell the truth, she may choose not to; but even lying is done for good reason.
Everything Vespyr says or does is carefully planned; even the way she carries herself or the amount of emotion she lets show on her face. She hides as much as she can until there is a reason to reveal it.
When alone, she ponders the mysteries of the universe, of life and death, of meaning and purpose, often with a cynical and existential outlook. She is deeply curious about the ways of the natural world and is seldom seen anywhere but rooftops, staring placidly at the moon and stars. Her deep fascination with space has earned a gracious chunk of space for astronomy books in her library.
She loves to think about things she does not understand because it keeps her from getting too complacent and it drives away the feeling that life is mundane.
She dwells on the fact that life is futile.
She feels alone in her thoughts.
She keeps her sorrows to herself because she knows no one will understand. She does not desire sympathy.
In contrast to her open-mindedness about such things as the universe and existance, she does not believe in God or a higher power. She does not believe in fate or destiny.
Rather than looking ahead or waiting for the future, she looks to the past for answers because "the future is never certain.There are millions of plans you could make with millions of outcomes, but there are billions more factors that could alter your perfectly plotted course. Live in the now, and make decisions based on what you know to be true, which is only ever the moment you're in and the space you occupy in that instant."
Vespyr is a deeply angry human being, trusting next to no one, offering nvery little kindness or sympathy. She hates nearly every concept dealing with society, including its standards and expectations, rules, and government. Its all stupid nonsense to her."Most humans have abandoned nature entirely, only to find themselves in a surreal world where nothing makes sense... Government, being one of the roots of its 'evil', for it is not natural to have someone assert themselves over you. What right do they have to tell you what to do? Who gave them that power? No one did. They selfishly gave it to themselves so that they could lie, cheat, steal from you, and work you until you die for their benefit. They tell you what is right and what is wrong. But are right and wrong, really? The concept of good and evil is a tricky one, for the words 'good' and 'evil' are often mixed with that which actually means pro-life and anti-life. A cat kills the bird, but is it evil for doing so? No, it is merely anti-life, the killing of the bird, but isn't it also pro-life, as it lets the cat live and prosper? Who's to say what is right and wrong, when there will always be two sides of the argument- those arguing for the bird and those arguing for the cat's sake. So who are your 'leaders' to tell you how you should behave?"
To delve deeper and darker... Vespyr has a twisted sort of alter-persona that acts up every now and again, causing horrifying hallucinations. These macabre sights are possibly the only things that genuinely frighten her. After an episode, she quickly forgets about them however, and refuses to explain them to anybody.
It is quite obvious that she is homicidal. Vespyr loves to kill. She is fascinated by death and the complexity of the human body. She loves to take it apart. At times she has the precision of a surgeon in these 'examinations', and at other times, enjoys leaving the body as if it had been ravaged by ravenous f***ing bears.
She knows much about killing; the fastest ways, the easiest ways, the most painful ways, the bloodiest ways, the most fun ways, etc. She knows how to inflict pain and how to avoid it.
She loves blood; she thinks it is beautiful, and rather tasty.
While she tends to kill for a reason, whether it being that she is provoked or simply bothered by someone, there have been many cases in which she kills purely because of boredom.Likes | Nazis ("they're sexy, too.") | Nighttime & gazing at the moon and stars | Laughing at the pain of others | Kitties & reptiles | Small, dark, enclosed places (i.e, closets.) | Reading factual texts | Drawing on walls | Stealing things and hording them in her house | Mischief and mayhem ("Sometimes you lose a battle. But mischief always wins the war.") | Sharp objects | Fire | Blood | Laughing in the face of death
Dislikes | Small dogs (especially if their name is WAAP) | School | Society & government | People (especially cannibals) | Religion ("The opiate of the masses") | Sappy books for teenagers | "Normal food" | The colour pink when its associated with feminism | The colour orange on any occasion | Not being able to understand | Unnecessary or excessive romance | Being stalked, raped, or the like | Cannibals ("humans are disgusting, why would you want to eat them?") | Being ignored
Mentality/Ideal/Belief | Atheist, existentialist."I have discovered that life has no meaning and no morality to it. We're all just HERE.
The grandest of all morals: no morals.
What we consider to be 'right' and 'wrong' are only figments of our egotistical imaginations, but we choose to live the 'right' because it satisfies us and gives us a purpose, or so we think. We shun the 'wrong' because it gives us something to differentiate others from ourselves and gives a false hope that we are doing the 'right' thing.
Consider this: a pregnant woman is shot to death. Morally wrong? To most of us humans, this is tragic and wrong. But from an emotionally-detached point of view (ahem), a mass of cells and chemicals has ceased to function, with no major impact on the universe. In the grand 'scheme' of things, (an idea that I don't really agree with the wording of-- 'scheme' implies that there is some grand plan. I honestly doubt there is any such thing.) that woman might as well have never existed in the first place; like taking a single grain of sand from a beach.
Think about it-- one grain of sand won't affect nature's pattern. The waves will still crash on the shore and the tides will never cease to wax and wane.
Take a handful of sand, or a bucketful. Still, nothing happens. What does this tell you about humanity's influence on the universe?
Back to the subject of morals: so, if there ARE no morals, that means we should endorse mass murder, right? Survival of the fittest? The answer to this is NO, because it is 'wrong', and therefore unsatisfying, to society. We choose to avoid discomfort, and therefore we strive to do the 'right' thing.
All this results in more chaos and running in circles because we've built up the illusion that bad things will happen to us if we don't do the right thing. (Thank you religion)
When really, our lives are like those questions of opinion with no right or wrong answer.
However, that is not to say that there aren't forces in nature that are pro-life and anti-life; but most people will interchange these terms with 'good' and 'evil'. Is an animal killing its prey to survive really 'evil'? No, the killing of the prey is only anti-life, not evil. But then again, it keeps the predator alive so it is again pro-life.
So can't everything be both a positive and a negative force? A negative action takes place in order to have a positive outcome, a neverending cycle of life and death. This is similar to the idea of the Circle of Life.
Whoop-de-do."
Fighting
7 Wins
1 Draw
2 Losses (1 Death)
Style | Animalistic. She usually won't fight unless attacked or provoked, but when she does lash out, she uses her claws and knowledge of pain rather than brute strength.
Years Practiced | since the age of six; living on her own forced her into doing whatever she had to in order to survive, which includes learning how to fight.
Description of style | Just because Vespyr is evasive doesn’t mean she isn’t a good fighter; she is very skilled and stealthy. She can dodge blows and strike very quickly. Her speed is often unmatched, but she lacks muscle strength. What she lacks in pure strength she makes up for by using knives and fire when she has access to them, but mostly she keeps her nails long and sharp, making her hands her most dangerous weapon. Vespyr has an extremely high pain tolerance and can therefore give her opponent a good run for their money during a fight.
Overall Strengths | High pain tolerance, sharp nails (after years of picking and filing them down they’ve become very durable and barely ever break), stealth—she can move around very quietly and easily evade attacks but also can strike quite quickly. Each one of her senses is extremely keen (especially sight, smell, and hearing) and she can sense danger right away. While not entirely a sixth sense, Vespyr has the qualities of a clairvoyant.
Overall Weaknesses | Very little. She can be a little hot-headed at times.
History
In the beginning... [December 3rd, 1999] | Shouts and screams and the noises of the house leave a painful awkward silence in the heart. She sits at the window with a book in her hand, but her pretty violet eyes have long since strayed from the words on the tattered pages and are fixed on the pane of glass only inches from her face where her breath waxes and wanes. Raindrops leave curious patterns as they roll and slide down like the tears on her face, cold as the air meets them and the ever-present, ear-bleeding, mind-numbing howls echo down the hallway and into her ears like a train hurtling through the darkness of a tunnel. And then there is silence, a heart-pricking gap where fear settles in and refuses to loosen its hold on the six-year-old heart that beats like the drums of war, but it is a funeral march.
"What the hell are you cryin' about, girl?"
There he is, standing in her doorway like an SS officer in a barracks, smoke from a joint blotting out his face, probably for the better. His voice is enough to make the tears roll faster down her pale cheeks that she has hidden against her knees before he's even made it halfway across the room to lay a hand on her, knocking her from the windowsill and onto the floor. She whimpers quietly as he stands above her, her entire body stiff from fear and hoping to god that he doesn't hit her again, doesn't bend down to whisper in her ear, doesn't make her young life resent its existence over and over again. Instead, he picks up the book, examines it with a cough of disgust, and drops it to the floor beside her without a word. The footsteps are fading but pause at the door, giving one last piercing glance at the little blonde girl and her twin sibling that are huddled in the corner of the empty room before leaving with a slam that pitches both of their hearts into the ocean of sorrow.
December 7th | The door slams again as both children give each other nervous glances across the expanse of the backseat. A woman, tall and pale and smoking a cigarette, turns the key out of the ignition and steps out of the parked car, taking the male child roughly in her arms and motioning for the other to follow as she turns and walks away. The girl scrambles after her, mimicking her mother's footsteps as she tries to keep up. The woman stops at a kiosk, rummages through her purse and wallet, and slides some money beneath the plastic window and recieves three slips from the attendant. The children follow her onto the train, their eyes wide and lost amongst the countless unfriendly faces. A loud whistle sounds. The siblings clamber up onto an empty seat and press their faces to the window as it begins to rain again. The girl catches one last glimpse of their mother standing alone on the platform before she is lost forever in the fog.
December 8th | A loud whistle jars the girl from her restless sleep and she opens her eyes. Rain is still thrumming against the windows, making an eerie sound that chills her heart. As she glances around, she sees that her brother is gone. Hoping he'll come back soon, the girl takes from under her shirt the old dictionary that she had sneakily brought with her. She has read through the A's and the B's already, and studies diligently the C words, repeating them over and over under her breath. In her heart she knows that something is wrong-- the fighting and the hitting she had grown used to. Her mother's cold and uncaring silence she was used to. But niether of the children had ever been very far out of the house, let alone by themselves. The image of her mother's frail form being swallowed up in the fog repeats over again in her head like a broken projector; each time, the face half-concealed by cigarette smoke becomes more and more... relieved.
December 12th | Her brother never returned. She spent day after day wandering the aisles in search for her twin to no avail. For the first time since their birth, they had been parted. In the painfully long hours of the night in which the sound of the rain was the only sign of life in her desolate world, the girl would lie awake with the dictionary held to her chest and tears streaming down her face in silence. She had never been alone. It seemed that a part of her, a piece of her heart and body, had been wrenched from her.
In the morning, she is rudely awakened by someone in a uniform and stern eyes. As he points toward the door, she follows his hand to the outside where the rain pelts the ground like bullets. She obeys. Immediately her fair hair and clothes are drenched, and holding the beloved dictionary protectively to shield it from the rain, she watches as the train howls again and races away into the mist. The six-year-old takes shelter beneath one of the awnings at Vespyr Station. Her dulled violet eyes stare blankly at the grey world as her heart beats wildly with cold dread. Several people stop to ask her the usual questions, but she makes no effort to reply. Later in the evening, a police officer takes her to the station where she is interrogated for hours. After the futile questioning, the they have made no progress; the girl has no name, no known siblings, parents, or residence, and her age is unknown. She is taken to an orphanage.
December 15th | The blood from her hands stains the window for only a moment before it is washed away by the torrents of rain that are beating down on her back. She balances precariously on the ledge, her rigid body pressed to the wall as her feet move one-by-one. Her eyes are fixed to the wall, wide with fear, concentrating on the movement of her feet alone. The sound of sirens is becoming clearer but she drowns it out; the only sound she hears above the pounding of the malicious storm is the sound of her heart beating madly in her chest. One slip-- and her body would be in pieces on the ground below. She loses her balance for a moment and teeters on the edge, but her body falls back to the wall. She stays there a moment and whimpers, fear overtaking her and grinding her mind to a pulp. There is a moment of silence in which her eyes open and she remembers her brother; he is alone somewhere, like her, and she has to find him. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, she stands again and continues to nimbly side-step along the ledge.
At last, she reaches the high wall that meets the side of the building and pulls herself up. She takes one last glance at the broken window and the quickly fading trail of blood before jumping down onto the other side, to freedom, and disappears into the darkness.
January 2000 | By now quite fearless around the city folk, the girl makes frequent visits to Vespyr Station in hopes that she may see her brother there. People have begun to notice the six-year-old hanging around unattended, and the police have even been called on numerous occasions; but no one can seem to catch her. She's there one moment, staring at the faces in the train windows that whiz past-- but gone in an instant if she needs to be. It is soon found out that the Vespyr Station Kid (as some of the regulars refer to her as) had recently escaped from a nearby orphanage after killing one of the other children and hospitalizing one of the matrons. The city of San Francisco is in shock, but the hunt for the little purple-eyed girl soon passes when she disappears completely. Vespyr, as the name stuck, is dead to the world.
Each day that passes without a sign of her twin takes a little bit of the Vespyr's hope with it. Eventually, she gives up searching for him at the station and makes her way deeper into the city.
July 6, 2000 | Vespyr has been living in a department store for the past few months. Her presence here is still undetected; she is becoming an expert at hiding and leaves no trace of her existence, except for the stolen food that has still gone unnoticed. Her hideout is in the basement; here in the darkness she and her few belongings go unseen and undisturbed. With her, she has the same old dictionary, (by now she has read all the way to the G's) and a many other books. She spends most of the day reading by candlelight, and at night she wanders through the store as she pleases, taking delight in music, finding new places to hide, and climbing through the air vents. This is a wonderland to her, and though still stung at heart by the loss of her brother, she is quite happy. Though she hasn't seen sunlight for six months and feeds sometimes on rats, she realizes that things are better now than they ever were at home.
Today is also a special day, although she doesn't know it; today, Vespyr is seven years old.
November 4th, 2000 | Vespyr is awakened by fierce shouting and instinctively curls into a tight ball, the face of her father blocking out every other thing on her mind. She glances up, and with short-lived relief, remembers that she will never see him again. The store's manager is looking down at her and fuming, but before he has the chance to say anything Vespyr disappears like a frightened mouse into a vent with the dictionary tucked beneath her arm. In the commmotion of the manager's shouting and her own heartbeat throbbing in her ears, Vespyr loses her way and tumbles out of the vent and into a puddle of murky water. Shaking her head and clutching a wounded elbow, she finds herself in a back-alley. Immediately she can feel that she is not alone, so she picks up the soggy dictionary and runs toward the sunlight at the end of the alley.
She is blinded immediately as she emerges into the light, and falls to her knees among a crowd of passersby. The sound of raised voices again makes her heart race in terror and she darts away-- across the street, the sun still blinding her and the high-pitched scream of car brakes wailing in her ears.
Vespyr falls to the ground, panting, in another dark alley a few blocks away. Her knees and elbows are bleeding and her mind is torn by fear, but she lets it fade as the silence settles in. She is alone; there is no menacing presence hiding here. The girl crawls deeper into the darkness and disappears once more.
March 10th, 2005 | Twelve-year-old Vespyr has managed to survive on the streets for many more years than anyone could have predicted. Life alone has hardened her to be unfearing, strong-willed, and full of spite. Through observing their behavior from a distance, reading stolen history books, and suffering from not-so-friendly encounters with them, Vespyr has grown an unwavering hatred for the human race and keeps a safe distance.
Though all her childhood memories have faded, Vespyr still carries with her the anger of her abuse and abandonment. She knows no other feeling than antipathy and recognizes it as the way she is, and as far as she knows, the way she has always been. Turning away from the world in disgust, she finds solace in the dark maze of alleyways that lies like an entire new world within the city itself. During the day she sleeps, but at night, rises like a ghost to haunt the streets and wander rooftops with her eyes riveted to the sky. She has a philosophical nature and spends most of her time pondering the mysteries of the universe.
She also has a strange interest in death, one encounter with the enemy will this interest into an obsession and change the course of her life forever.
The evening of March 10th is a particularly cold one. Vespyr watches the sun set as she sits against the wall of the alley, arms wrapped around her knees to keep the warmth in. She can see the intermittent shadows of passersby and sighs with hunger, giving another hour or so until she will come out and look for food. Suddenly, one of the shadows on the wall fans out and Vespyr's blood freezes at the sound of footsteps coming near. It is a man, a tall man, wearing a black trenchcoat and carrying a briefcase. Vespyr is well-hidden and doesn't dare move. Her violet eyes are riveted on the other being as he romoves something from the case and leans against the opposite wall. He still doesn't know she is here, but if he was listening carefully, he would be able to hear her heart pounding in her chest only a few feet away.
The girl holds her breath as he strikes a match to light a cigarette, and immediately the flickering orange light beholds the both of them, staring into eachother's eyes in shock. A moment passes like this until the corners of the man's mouth turn upward in the most sickening way, causing Vespyr's heart to stop beating altogether. The match blows out and Vespyr turns to run, but the man catches her by the wrist and pulls her toward him. The stench of smoke and alcohol makes her eyes water and her face contort in disgust as she attempts to free herself, wild panic overcoming her. This could not be happening. He was laughing as he did it.
Suddenly, a fierce anger tugs and tears at Vespyr's heart and she roars, striking at the man's face with her hands in a frenzy. She can feel his flesh beneath her nails and the blood spraying back onto her while he screams in agony, reeling backward and letting go of her. Instead of running away, Vespyr leaps on top of him and furiously plunges a hand into his open mouth. He would drown in his own blood and Vespyr would taste her revenge on her own fingers.
She kept the trenchcoat.
Thread History & Character Development (Chronological)
(SF)= San FranciscoWhen Darkness Falls (Dots) (SF)
Seeing Things (Gabriel) (SF)
Honor Guard (invite) (SF)
Roof Tops (Sylar) (SF)
So We Meet Again... (Dots) (SF)
Ground Zero (SF)
Conflicting Thoughts (Patrick) (SF)
Familiar Faces (Slyar/Hunter) (SF)
New In Town (Scene) (+1W)
Of Masked Murderers and Macabre Muses (Scene)
Fire In The Cantina (Gabriel) (+1D)
Daywalkers (Akane)
Sweet Reunion (Scene)
What Will Come Shall Come (Scene)
Dual Trial (Scene)
Where Is It...(VooDoo)(+1W/timed out)
A Study In Ruby (Grav)(+1W/timed out)
Ante Up (Katsuri)(+1L)
The World Through A Window (Eric Wyatt)
Then There Were Two (Scene)
Rain One (Scene)
Grocery Shopping! (Kevala)
The Night Is Still Young... (Ryu)(+1W/timed out)
Hobos of Long Beach, UNITE (Quan)(+1W/timed out)
This Is Our World... (Katsuri/"Unfettered")
"Gut To Meet You.~" ("Unfettered")(+item: necklace)
Ghost (Scene)
Visions (Gilgamesh)
Visiting Hours? F*** 'Em. (Gilgamesh)
Familiar Speech (Scene/Asiv)
Phase Two: The Undertaking ("Unfettered")
Return of the Dots of Death (Dots)
Queen of Blades(Impromptu Quest)
Out To Play (Katsuri)
Defaced, Defamed (Scene) (+1L, +1W)
Another 2 A.M. (Mathew Amtrum)
Arrival of the Beast (Afano)
The Sound of the Rain (Scene)
Documentary (Zeke)
Bump in the Night (David Blaze)
Relapse (Scene)
A Declaration of Independence
The Finale (Scene) (+1W)
Dearest Daydream (Lilith)
Call In A Blue Moon ("Unfettered")
-Current-
Nobody Cares... [The Diary of a Killer]See Character Blog (SF)
See Current Character Blog
Other Possibly Important ThingsMaking the Switch (December 2009)
Strange Occurence (Quest--August 2010)
"I Know When I'm Awake" - (October 2010 M.E.Q.)
Living Status
Type of residence | Abandoned Arby's Restaurant. Location unknown until directions are given by her ic or by me, ooc. (People who currently know the location: Vespyr, Fleesh, Scene, Katsuri Katashi)
The Garage | "Tucked away behind overgrown trees, there is a road leading to it from the main street, but that's gated, locked, and rigged viciously with barbed wire. I had continued my stroll with lightly dashed hopes to pass by a sidewalk that led off perpendicular to the street, down some stairs and around a corner. Curious, i followed the path to find that it split off at the top of a large and barren bank, each way leading to a different parking garage. One, to the right, was dirty and seldom occupied; the other, on the left, was fenced off and entirely empty. I went left.
The interior of the vast concrete building was astonishing... graffiti covered the walls like one huge faded mural, and rusted empty spraypaint cans littered the floor like empty shells on a little-visited beach. The ground was covered in an inch of soot, dust, and debris. I stepped carefully through it, my footprints the only visible trace of life in the shadowy dungeon. In the far corner to my left i could see a faint light. Upon closer inspection, i found a small opening in the wall that led to an empty area enclosed by four high walls, sealed at the top with metal bars. It reminded me of a prison cell; i could see the sky and the swaying leaves of the trees beyond it as the light trickled down to the dusty ground where i stood gazing upward.
Next, i ventured to the opposite side of the garage after what seemed like a trek across a wide desert, coming to a solitary staircase, light shining down from somewhere above, giving it a very grand look. Like a distant beacon of lost time. I climbed up, only to find myself surrounded by the sunlight again. But there, welcoming, lonely, and now accessible, was the restaraunt."
Bedroom | "The candle lit walls were covered from floor to cieling with morbid and surreal drawings of strange creatures and disturbing depictions of gore, all done in charcoal by Vespyr's artistic hand. Shelf after shelf of books loomed precariously on every wall, ranging from stolen textbooks to philosophy or art or history, some of them so loved and worn they could barely be called books anymore. Between which, every foot or so, a mound of melted substance served as a makeshift candle, flickering ever so slightly as they entereth in. They gave off an eerie scent, somewhat akin to the smell of raw flesh and blood...
Hanging from the ceiling lamp which was no longer operable was a sort of wire framing, on which were tied all sorts of dangling momentos; old bones, shards of glass, knives, all hanging ominously like they would fall and impale someone unlucky enough to be underneath at any second. Against the far right wall was the bed; simply an old matress, beside which were a pile of towels and sheets for when the nights got cold, which they rarely did this season."
Roommates | None, excluding her one-eyed orange kitten, Fleesh.
Kittenhood | Growing up fast | Older, wiser, stronger | I am your love... | As neko boy, wth? (for the lulz)
Fleesh | Vespyr's minion, partner-in-crime, best friend, brother, son, or whatever he may be referred to as, was raised by Vespyr since his early kittenhood. She taught him to hunt and survive on the streets of San Francisco, and he could not have had a more excellent mentor. Under her guidance he became a stealthy and ruthless hunter, a keen and cunning thief, and a loyal friend. Fleesh's alliegance to his mistress is unbending and impregnable, and he would give his life to defend her. He is protective of Vespyr around strangers and a good companion when they are alone. Together, they are like two bodies with one mind; one can always tell what the other is thinking and they can communicate wordlessly. The bond between them is unbreakable and has no definition and no bounds. Fleesh is a faithful minion, but Vespyr's respect for him is greater than that of merely a servant; though she commands him, she sees him as her kin, and at times, she is like a mother to him.
Fleesh in his own mind is an easygoing spirit, but holds a stern and almost intimidating demeanor when around anyone else but whom he trusts. He has learned to hate the same things that Vespyr hates and share the same joys, but he is not at all a mirror image of her. While Vespyr is an angry person at heart, Fleesh carries an alluring air of indifference toward the world.
Cases Against The Faculty | 0
Cases Of Hurting Students | 0
Placement Item(s) Head Hat/Bandana N/A Earrings N/A Glasses N/A [/td Torso Shirt N/A Jacket/Coat N/A Neck Lord of The Dead Necklace: (+4 Wisdom.)
Details: Previously worn by the 'God', Hades, declared God of the Dead, this has mysteriously been passed onto Thrush for his participation in End Game 1. As to why and how? That in itself, is the true mystery...
*Cannot Upgrade.[/td Arms Arm N/A Wrist N/A Gloves N/A Ring N/A [/td Legs Pants N/A Shin N/A Shoes
Doom Boots(+28 Strength, +32 Dex, +29 Wisdom)
Details:These boots were made by a strange material unknown to many. Nearly indestructable, they are smooth, and moldable. Can be bent and folded and stuffed to high heels, sneakers, or cleats. They are the most comfortable thing a human being could wear, and never, ever seem to lose thier shine.
Indestructible.
Immune to fire.
Can stick to any surface, and may even be used to run up walls.
This item is simply made, and not open for Construction. May be sold or given away.Belt N/A [/td Misc 1 Vial of Blood [#J62 Sample]: (Unknown)
Details: By itself it appears to be a perfectly preserved vial of blood from Experiment #J62. The container itself is well made to prevent spoiling of blood to keep it alive regardless of external environment. However, for as uselessly fancy as it may appear, this may be utilized for multiple things...
*Item Subject To Updating By Moderators.
*Item Update's Responsibility Belongs To Holder.
*May Be Carried Around Without Consuming An Item Slot.
*Seal Cannot Be Broken Or Item Is Instantly Destroyed.2 Soul Slingshot: +4 Str, +1 Dex
This slingshot doesn;t shoot normal ammo like marbels or rocks it fires pure Qi Energy. But pulling the band back it loads with energy from the user and fires a Qi shot as powerful as the person's Cha. Shot is treated as if it has the force of her Cha as power. Drains 10 Cha per use (effects only for thread).Drugs Red: A cylinder shaped cannister filled with a red substance to be injected straight into the blood stream.
+5 Str
Qty:1
Blue: A cylinder shaped cannister filled with a blue substance to be injected straight into the blood stream.
+5 Dex
Qty: 1
Green: A cylinder shaped cannister filled with a green substance to be injected straight into the blood stream.
+5 Con
Qty: 2
Stats
Initial:
Strength | 5
Dexterity | 40
Constitution | 20
Intelligence | 15
Wisdom | 25
Charisma | 15
Unused:
0 EXP
NPC
Current Statistical Limit: 30CHA / 15 = 2
NPC Gilbert Pike is locked until Vespyr's CHA reaches 45Gilbert Pike
Male | Caucasian | 22 years | ~6' | ~142 lbs.
Defining Marks
—Tall, slender, bony, with abnormally high shoulders.
—Eyes the colour of dried blood and hair the colour of straw, usualy well-kept or slicked back.
—Usually wears high-collared black button-down coats, black pants, simple black boots or gentleman's shoes. Clothing style sometimes appears to be somewhat anachronic.
—Carries a black swordstick.
—Definitely has the appearance of a perfectionist.
Personality—Manipulative, cunning, egregious. Gilbert has no morals to speak of. If ever he had harboured a conscience in his tough narrow breast he had by now dug out and flung away the awkward thing.
—Perfectionist and somewhat of an elitist.
—A good actor; can be a shameless flatterer and wheedles his way to get what he wants.
—Good at masterminding plots.
—While most of the time he only attends to his own agenda, he is loyal to a select few.
StatsSTR | 5
DEX | 5
CON | 10
INT | 15
WIS | 15
CHA | 10
HistoryMeeting Vespyr
The Twins: Titus and Isaiah
Males | Caucasian | 18 yrs. | ~5'11" | ~156lbs.
Males | Caucasian | 18 yrs. | ~5'11" | ~156lbs.
Defining Marks—Tan skin, slender but muscular build.
—Redheads
—Amber eyes
—Usually wear rather causal, 'typical teenage guy' clothing.
Personality—Similar personalities; outgoing, reckless, and lighthearted. However, they’re not the most intelligent.
—Vespyr (not quite fondly) refers to them ‘her boys’. They are extremely obedient and follow her orders without questioning… Even though she spends most of the time yelling at them and calling them idiots.
—They tend to beat each other up a lot, but when fighting others, they team up.
StatsTitus:
STR | 20
DEX | 10
CON | 10
INT | 5
WIS | 5
CHA | 10
Isaiah:
STR | 10
DEX | 20
CON | 10
INT | 5
WIS | 5
CHA | 10
HistoryMeeting Vespyr
Misc.
Quotes/Credo"Keep your sorrows to yourself; no one else will understand."
"It is better to be a person who has a lot to say but speaks little than to be a person who has little to say but speaks a lot."
"Life is meaningless. Drink coffee."
"Sometimes you lose a battle, but mischief will always win the war."
"Everything ceases to exist at some point, so enjoy it while it lasts and remember it fondly when it's gone."
"I find it difficult not to be intrigued by the pure vehemence in which Evil pursues its ambitions... and to resist becoming infatuated with the same passion."
"There is a force within every human that urges them to be good; I bludgeon that urge into submission whenever it rears its saintly head."
"Imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia. You spend your whole life stuck in the labyrinth, thinking about how you’ll escape it one day, and how awesome it will be, and imagining that future keeps you going, but you never do it. You just use the future to escape the present."
"People talk about the unfairness of life and the disappointments and heartbreaks as if they are inevitable. Everybody makes mistakes, right? Of course. You make mistakes because you were not careful, did not know what to look for beforehand. Mistakes show you what you should have taken the time to find out before going ahead. They show you what happens when you lack foresight, are lazy or are ignorant.
So maybe everything that makes you unhappy is your fault, is something you could have avoided if you had paid attention. Maybe all that talk about life just being the way it is, is how fools rationalize their suffering and avoid the fact that they, and no one else, are to blame for their pain. Maybe life does not have to be hard or screwed up and would not be so if you decided to make it otherwise.
Maybe out there who live perfect lives, with no pain, no hardship, who are smart enough to avoid people like you, who keep the secret to themselves because they know it would make no difference if they shared it. You can’t teach a fool to be anything else."
Last but not least, Bio Approval Code Phrase | No, I don't want to dance with the cookie!.
