Posts by Snowlight

This is an archived version of FeralFront. While you can surf through all the content that was ever created on FeralFront, no new content can be created.
If you'd like some free FeralFront memorabilia to look back on fondly, see this thread from Dynamo (if this message is still here, we still have memorabilia): https://feralfront.com/thread/2669184-free-feralfront-memorabilia/.

    [fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 50px; margin-bottom: -17px; letter-spacing: -2px; text-align: center; color: COLOR; text-transform: lowercase; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px black; margin-top: -15px;] ASPEN SHANE[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; color: white; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px black;]24 PANSEXUAL BROWN[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; color: COLOR; line-height: 100%; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify;] ooc: no worries, guys! i'm just glad you all are here to make this thread happen :D also, cas, if you look back on the previous pages of the thread, you'll find the code to use the fancypost that the rest of us are using! samoan says we're free to use it ♥
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    Aspen watched as the girl -- who was apparently named Amazon -- wiped her hands on her pants, noticing her wincing. He watched, intrigued, as droplets of fresh blood began to well up from her palms, the shards of glass now noticeable to him by the light of the moon. Compassion sprung from his heart, and with his dark gaze regaining its typical gentle vibe, Aspen exhaled slowly. "Let me see," Aspen spoke softly now, reverting back into his usual, soft demeanor. He reached out and gently took Amazon's right hand first, turning it over so that her palmed faced up and in the light so that he could see. Aspen began to gently and methodically remove the glass shards from her hands, attempting to make it as painless as possible for her -- which would largely depend on how high her pain threshold was. As he removed a shard, he would toss it to the side, hearing the telltale plink as each glass shard hit the floor.


    He managed to get through her right hand relatively quickly, and he used the edge of his own shirt to clean what little bit of blood that was on her palm. Once he finished that, Aspen let go of her right wrist reached for her left one, doing the exact same procedure as he had with her right palm. As he removed the shards, he heard her inquiry about their names. He didn't know what Percy would do, but Aspen figured that he might as well tell Amazon his real name -- after all, it wasn't like it was a secret. "Aspen... Aspen Shane." He responded, never taking his dark gaze off of her left palm as he continued his work on removing the glass. He also hadn't forgotten about her offer of food and shelter that she'd made earlier, and he took the time to think it over now. It was tempting, but it sure sounded like something that he'd not be interested in taking... especially since it would leave him entitled to a favor to her later. Aspen hated owing people anything, much less favors of any kind. Considering just about everybody (besides other Browns) had more power than him, he had to be extra careful about who he owed any sort of favors. Not only that, but he didn't necessarily need it tonight.


    "And... I appreciate that offer, Amazon. Truly, I do," Aspen began, wiping her palm clean of blood once all the glass shards were removed. "But I don't think I'll need it tonight. I'll keep it in mind if I ever need it, though." The 24 year old let go of her left hand, not minding that the ends of his shirt was now bloodied. He could just wash it back at the old, abandoned guest house that he'd essentially claimed as his own. It was technically owned by a gray-eyed family, the Habershams, but Aspen had been using it to have a good place to stay that had food and not a leaky roof. The only son, Princeton Habersham, would sometimes swing by the guest house to escape from the pressures of higher society, and that's how he and Aspen met. The gray-eyed heir was surprisingly friendly to Aspen, and the two had formed a sort of forbidden friendship of sorts.


    He slipped his hands into his pockets and shot a smile at both Percy and Amazon. "Well, it's been nice to meet you two... but I've got to go. Before I do, though..." Aspen pulled out a pen and slip of paper from his jacket pocket, and he tore the paper into two strips. He wrote his name and phone number on both slips and handed one to each girl. "Just in case either of you need to reach me for whatever reason, I'm only a phone call away. See you two later?" Aspen gave a friendly wave to Amazon and Percy, then he slipped out of the warehouse. He wandered out onto the street, noticing that it was surprisingly empty. Usually there were guards crawling all over the place, but he assumed that they were all busy with the clearing out the club from earlier. If that was the case, then he'd be fine being out after curfew for at least a few more hours. Aspen wandered the streets, his hands resting in his pockets, enjoying the quietness of the night, but also pondering things.


    Amazon mentioned that Browns act like a "pack" of sorts... I suppose that's true. After all, we do tend to help each other out because the rest of the world is against us. What if... what if we did that officially? Not just relying on random strangers' kindness, like Amazon's or Princeton's... but what if Browns could rely on each other like a family? Aspen's mind was pulsing with thoughts, and an idea was quickly coming together in his head.

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    It was the empty nights like these that really made him feel alive. Not in the sense that there was adrenaline roaring through his veins, breeding excitement in his chest that he craved more than any drug he could ever try... but in the sense that he had time to himself. When the streets were as empty as they were now, it felt as if the world was... right, in a way. Nobody was watching out for anybody else, no wandering eyes searched for colors in any other eyes they happened upon, no muscles were tensed while passing another human being. In the dead of night, it was as if the discrimination didn't exist at all. And that was exactly what Princeton Habersham lived for.


    Though his eyes were distinctly grey, his outfit didn't reflect the high social status that society had thrust upon him from birth. Princeton was dressed modestly to repel attention from himself: a black hoodie with the hood pulled up on his head, jeans, and black combat boots to make himself as discreet as possible. He wasn't about to deny that the luxuries that came with being a Grey were lovely and that he'd developed a bit of a taste for them, but the Habersham heir abhorred the discrimination. After all, it was the correlation of eye color to social status that stole his first real friend's life right before Princeton's very eyes at the tender age of seven... and all because that boy had dark eyes. He'd committed no crime other than existing, and even that was punishment enough in the harsh reality the world had taken on. Just thinking about it all again made Princeton's teeth grit together as anger starting to flare up inside of him, but he forced himself to suppress the feelings. He'd put that building rage for society into good use... when the time was right.


    It was right around then that Princeton's phone buzzed in his pocket. He tensed immediately. There was only a handful of people that would be contacting him now, and the nineteen year old was afraid that his parents might have realized that he wasn't home. If that were to happen, then his freedom would be restricted further, and that was the last thing he wanted to come to fruition. He checked the screen and heaved a sigh of relief when the caller ID displayed not his parents' names, but his close friend's: Aspen Shane. He tapped the answer button and pressed the phone to his ear. "Whatcha need, man?" The Gray inquired, listening as the Brown on the other end spoke. He wasn't needing much, just requesting that the old guest house door be unlocked so that Aspen could get in later when he arrived. Princeton cracked his typical handsome smirk, laughing a little. "Of course it'll be open for you. I unlocked it a short while ago when I dropped off food there, so you should have something to eat there too. Anything else?" Princeton routinely would drop off portions of his grandiose, lavish meals that he'd secretly save, always leaving them in a discreetly wrapped box on the kitchen counter of the old guest house that his family technically owned, but didn't use nor monitor anymore. Princeton still had the key to the home though, and when he and Aspen grew close, the Gray told the Brown where the hidden home was and specifically stated that the man was always welcome there. It was just another secret way that Princeton rebelled against the social constructs of the discrimination: befriending a Brown and offering him the bare necessities.


    Princeton blinked as he heard Aspen's other request on the other line, and after a pause, he responded. "A new shirt...? Yeah, sure, there should be a few in the drawers of the wardrobe near your bed..." The Habersham heir's voice trailed off, curious and slightly worried about why his dear friend would need a new shirt, though the Brown assured Princeton that he was okay. "Yeah, whatever you say, old man. Take it easy out there." Princeton laughed lightly at the end of his casual farewell, tapping the end button to cut off the call. Though Aspen was only five years his senior, Princeton got an odd sense of joy out of calling him an old man... probably solely because he knew Aspen hated that title. Princeton tugged his hood down a bit further so that his eyes would be difficult to discern, but not so far that he couldn't see where he was going, and continued on his way down the street. A lone Gray still out and about after dark typically was like walking with a target on his back, where he was alone and could easily be made a target for some jaded Brown or other lower class individual to take out their hatred for the world on the Gray... usually by spilling scarlet onto the pavement. But it was that exact thrilling possibility that kept Princeton out late most nights. The cushioned environment of the second highest class made the world boring, and Princeton continued to wander the streets, trying to find something interesting to do, his gray eyes open and observing for anything that could catch his interest.

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    It certainly hadn't taken long for Princeton to make his way through town, espcially with how empty it currently was. The gray-eyed boy continued on his way, not really sure of what he wanted to do. He knew of the underground club that much of the lower class frequented, and he had never been inside there before. You'd think he had, considering his thrill-seeking nature, but the opportunity never arose for him before... Maybe he could check it out now?


    His thoughts were abruptly cut off when he was suddenly slammed into. The force of it made Princeton fall backwards, landing right on his rear. "Ow, f*ck..." He muttered, and though his rear stung a bit, he was otherwise fine. He heard a voice apologize profusely, and Princeton glanced up, seeing that there was another boy before him with very colorful hair. This stranger immediately caught his attention, since there was nothing else around to do so, though Princeton felt his heart jolt when he realized this colorful boy had eyes as dark as chocolate. If he saw that Princeton was a Gray... He may be treated differently. The Habersham heir immediately grasped the top of his hood and tugged it down so that this other boy couldn't see his eyes -- at least, not their color -- and smiled at him from the safety of the shadows. "Yeah, and it's alright, man..." Princeton stood up, then offered his hand towards the stranger. "Are you hurt?"

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    ic:


    He sighed a little as he brought the cell phone away from his ear, shaking his head slightly as a faint smile danced onto his face. Something about talking to his gray-eyed friend always put him into a better mood: the boy's chipper attitude was just contagious, it seemed. Though Grays and Browns were never meant to mix or mingle, Aspen had somehow managed to befriend the only son to the Habersham family. How had that friendship even began, again? It had been so long ago that he didn't even really remember... Perhaps it really happened when he accidentally stumbled upon the Habersham family's (now abandoned) guest house that was hidden in the middle of a forest a little ways from the city. Princeton had invited him in, and after some hefty conversation, told the Brown that he was always welcome to stay in the house for any reason and however long he wished, no questions asked. And for that, Aspen would always be grateful to the boy.


    He paused at the corner of a street, looking up at the full moon as he reminisced on his times with the Gray, but his train of thought was quickly interrupted. Sudden, slow-moving swirls of [glow=#FFFA70,2,300]buttercream[/glow] swung into his field of vision without much warning, and Aspen was quickly brought out of his thoughts, blinking in surprise as he heard the sudden voice speak. Before him stood a young girl, shorter than he, and the twenty-four year old's dark gaze flickered to the left and right briefly. How long had she been standing there? Did she just approach him? Aspen blinked again as her registered what she was asking him, and he paused a moment before answering her. He let his gaze take in the sight of her, and from what he could observe, this poor thing looked scared, and she was carrying a bag with her. Not only that, but upon closer inspection, Aspen realized that she wasn't just a frightened girl -- she was carrying extremely precious cargo within her body.


    Aspen felt a sharp pang of compassion for this girl before him. He'd lived on the streets for years before he lived where he does now, and he knew exactly what a runaway looked like when he saw one. She couldn't have been older than Percy or Amazon, and yet she was pregnant... and brown-eyed? It was like this poor girl had won the world's worst lottery. He looked back into her gaze, his dark eyes matching her own. "Just directions? Are you sure that's all you want?" Aspen paused, looking around with a sense of urgency. "You shouldn't be out here all by yourself this late... the curfew guards show no mercy to any Brown out past curfew..." His eyes involuntarily flickered to her belly. "Not even to people in your situation." After he paused to let his words sink in, Aspen, took one more worried glance over his shoulder before turning back to the girl before him. Perhaps this was the best time to finally get the idea that had been forming in his mind to come to fruition, starting with her. "Listen, we've got to get you off the streets before any guards find you." His voice became even more gentle than it already was. "You're running away, right? My name is Aspen Shane. I know a nice place that's a little bit past the outskirts of the city. It's safe, hidden, and warm with plenty of food... you can stay there if you have nowhere else to go." Aspen started to wait for her to tell him yes or no, but the sound of methodical footsteps walking in a rhythm sent instant shivers up his spine. Guards!


    "Sorry to do this so suddenly, but there's no time!" Aspen quickly apologized to the girl, and with no time to lose, he scooped the girl and her bag up in his arms bridal style before taking off. He held her close, doing all he could to not jostle her badly as he raced down the streets and into the outskirts of the city. He knew exactly where the old Habersham guest house was, and he didn't stop running until they finally arrived there. It was a large, beautiful house, with tendrils of ivy growing up the sides of the walls and built in elaborate Spanish-style architecture. Truthfully, it was more like a regular house than a guest home, but that was to be expected from the wealthy types. Aspen slowed his running to a stop, panting heavily as he put the girl down. That was twice in one night that he'd had to carry somebody off in a hurry... honestly, it almost made him feel like a cheesy comic book hero. Aspen certainly didn't feel like a hero, but he was going to do all he could to save this girl from living on the streets.


    After all, Amazon had said it best: Browns stick together, like a pack.


    "Come inside... Quickly..." Aspen gently ushered the girl inside the guest house, making sure that nobody had followed them before shutting the door.

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    With a slight heave, Princeton grasped the stranger's hand and hoisted him up to his feet. Princeton gave his hood a slight tug once again to keep the color of his eyes concealed to this other guy, then he slid his hands into his hoodie pockets. He could tell that this man was scrutinizing him, and the Habersham heir couldn't help but feel a little bit fidgety. If this man realized that his eyes were gray, who knows what would happen? He'd likely become afraid of Princeton and run off or something rash like that, and the Gray just wanted to be with other people that didn't have a stick up their *ss... and more often than not, the very lower class people were the ones that he tended to mesh with better. Though he sort of brought it upon himself by being out late like this, Princeton was just hoping with all his might that the dark of night was on his side and would keep his true identity hidden.


    When the colorful haired man didn't seem to recognize him as a Gray, Princeton felt relief wash through his body in a cleansing rinse. The last thing he needed was yet another person treating him solely on the basis of his high rank. When the other man asked for his name, Princeton paused. Should he give him his real name, or a fake one? After all, if this guy ever saw him on the street in the daytime, he'd know for sure that Princeton's eyes weren't brown. After a second of contemplation, Princeton offered a small smile to the stranger. "Princeton... My name's Princeton. What about you?"

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    From the looks of things, this stranger before Princeton either had a highly chipper attitude, or was just plain naive. Not that being naive was a bad thing, but it certainly could lead to quite a few unpleasant situations. Yet it seemed to Princeton like this guy had no qualms about being so bright and kind to somebody he'd just met: either he wasn't yet jaded by the world or he simply chose to be a bright spot in it. Either way, Princeton couldn't help but consider that chipper quality to be admirable. His attitude was starting to rub off on the Habersham heir, and his faint smile became a little wider. After learning this guy's name was Alexander, Princeton nodded, making a mental note to remember. However, he figured it wouldn't be hard to remember the name of somebody who seemed to contain all hues of the rainbow within his hair.


    It was then that Alexander's second question registered within Princeton's mind, and the boy's eyes widened a little bit. "Nabbed...?" He spoke the word slowly, like it was foreign to his tongue. Did that really happen to brown-eyed people who were caught out past curfew hours? Sure, he'd heard his parents and others of the social elite speak rumors of what the Browns did and what happened to them, but he'd never believed any of that until now. He just didn't want to believe that the guards would be that harsh... now Princeton saw that it was he that was the truly naive one. The obvious glaze of worry in Alex's actions and expression when he'd looked around had made it clear that being out past curfew could prove dangerous for brown-eyed people. He never knew about the specifics of the punishment... he wasn't sure exactly what he assumed the punishment was for skirting curfew, but he didn't know it was something that instilled legitimate fear in the Browns. If that's what's been happening... why hasn't Aspen told me about any of it? Did it just not happen to him yet? Did he assume I knew? Similar questions kept coming up in Princeton's mind, and the boy bit his lip in thought before looking back at his new acquaintance.


    "Hey... Alexander, right? If you're nervous about the guards and curfew, I know somewhere we can go that's hidden just beyond the outskirts of the city... the guards never go out that far. Besides, my friend Aspen is probably already there and can let us inside." Princeton suggested, a plan already formulating in his mind. Of course the guards didn't go all the way out to the Habersham guest house: that was considered private property and it was a gray-eyed family that owned it, so the guards never bothered to monitor it. He could get Alexander somewhere safer and cleaner than the city was: judging by the state of Alexander's clothes, it seemed rather plain to him that the other man's living conditions were likely to not be optimal. "What do you say, are you up for it?"
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    ooc: forgive my inactivity! we're starting to get everything packed for moving me into my college dorm in two days, so if i'm inactive, that's why. ^^"
    ic:


    The sound of how horrid the punishment for staying out past curfew could be certainly made Princeton a bit more anxious to get out of the public eye, but that wasn't the only thing he was pondering while he awaited Alexander's response. When they'd arrive at the guest home, the lights in the house would surely reveal his true eye color... if Aspen was already there, then maybe he could just send his new acquaintance inside and bid him farewell at the doorstep, knowing full well that Aspen would absolutely take care of him. But, at the same time, there was a part of Princeton that reminded him that true friendships transcended reasoning: including grounds of discrimination. After all, he and Aspen were friends, so there was technically no reason why he and Alexander couldn't be as well. If Princeton was being honest with himself, he was somewhat afraid as to how the boy with colorful locks would react. I guess I'll see when I get there, won't I?


    Alexander's enthusiastic response left no doubt in Princeton's mind that his new acquaintance was grateful, though at the same time, it saddened him a little. Had nobody really offered such kindness to him before? If he was this excited over getting some kind of shelter, then Princeton could only imagine how this boy's current living conditions were. The realization only galvanized him to get Alexander to the guest home even faster. He smiled a little, removing his hands from his hoodie's pocket. "That's what I like to hear, let's head out." Princeton reached out and took Alexander by his sleeve, and then the gray-eyed heir started on the trek towards the Habersham guest estate. It wasn't a very convoluted path: surprisingly straightforward without many detours into alleyways or turns, but you certainly couldn't actually make it to the house without a guide or knowing the way yourself. Once they'd reached the city limits, Princeton glanced over his shoulder to Alexander. "Almost there, just a little further into the woods." He announced, heading down the very rough trail that seemed as if it were leading to nowhere. It took only a few minutes to see the house lights in the distance, and Princeton knew immediately that Aspen was inside: he never left the lights on unless he was actually there.


    Once the house came into view, Princeton released his hold on Alexander's shirt sleeve and gestured to the large guest home before them. "This is it, man..." He whispered, motioning to follow him to the front door, which was tall and wooden with stained glass decorating it. He pulled out the key from his pants pocket and unlocked the door, walking inside to see not only Aspen standing in the living room, but also a young girl who seemed to be about two years younger than himself. Princeton blinked, surprised. "Oh... Didn't know you had company tonight, man." He joked, smiling small at his older friend.
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    [fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: times new roman; font-size: 50px; margin-bottom: -17px; letter-spacing: -2px; text-align: center; color: COLOR; text-transform: lowercase; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px black; margin-top: -15px;] ASPEN SHANE[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-size: 10px; letter-spacing: 2px; text-align: center; color: white; text-transform: uppercase; text-shadow: 2px 2px 2px black;]24 PANSEXUAL BROWN[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; width: 400px; color: COLOR; line-height: 100%; font-size: 10px; text-align: justify;] His lungs burned from his physical exertion, panting still after he'd set the girl down. It wasn't that she was heavy, it was the simple fact that this was the second occurrence in such a short time that he'd had to carry someone while breaking into a full, frantic sprint. He didn't regret either time though -- it meant that two more people were safe from the horrors of being left on the street without a hope to cling to. Aspen ran his fingers through his thick, curly hair and then put his hands on his hips as he tried to regulate his breathing. As the girl spoke again, he listened to her intently while watching the methodical [glow=#FFF45C,2,300]buttercream[/glow] swirls that was her voice sway in the air, like an intimate dance. He smiled at her, nodding to her in acknowledgement. "Elizaveta... nice name." He complimented, though no sooner did he say that did the front door open, sending a brief jolt of fear down Aspen's spine. But once he saw who it was, the Brown relaxed: it was just Princeton, his rebellious gray-eyed friend.


    Princeton opened up his entrance with a warm statement, and his voice was just as welcome to see: [glow=teal,2,300]teal[/glow] sparks flitted around the room like a power surge, just as energetic as the Habersham heir was. Aspen sighed, rolling his eyes good-naturedly to his friend before turning to Elizaveta. "Yeah... that's Princeton, a good friend of mine. Excuse him, he's an idiot." Aspen added with a light laugh at the end of his introduction, then glanced back at the Gray. He noticed that he was wearing his hood this time, though it was in such a way that discerning his eye color would be extremely difficult: done so on purpose, Aspen could only assume. He started to wonder why, but then he caught sight of the person behind him: brown-eyed, just like himself. Ah... that makes sense, yeah. Aspen gestured for the two of them to come inside completely. "Come on, don't stand there with the door wide open like that, it causes a draft."




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    I'M MAKING MORE LONERS AND YOU CAN'T STOP ME ;)



    [AW SHEET, WE GOT A REALISTIC PERSON PIC BECAUSE MY STANDARDS ARE APPARENTLY TOO HIGH SO I CAN'T FIND A SUITABLE ANIME PIC]

    Sam Payton Haster
    "Do you think that even the most wicked person can change?"


    Sam is a human. Technically, anyway. Some would argue that he's a superhuman, though Sam doesn't put a lot of weight into that and just considers himself the same person he's always been, even if he's gained "a few things" (his powers in particular). In that regard, Sam is both down-to-earth and downright ridiculous. He's analytical in most everything he does, always taking the route that is objectively the most logical. Though in his pre-apocalypse life he was far more cold, now that the world has gone to sh*t he's generally rather jolly, all things considered, and he really can't resist making a joke out of everything (it's mostly to keep Wyn smiling and laughing through the f*cked up parts of the world). Sam is almost never seen without a smile or smirk on his face, even when he actually isn't even happy: it's a bit of a defense mechanism if you truly think about it. Though his fuse is long, Sam's anger burns like hellfire and he is not one to show mercy to those that have wronged him or those he cares about. He likes to think that giving second or third chances can make things work, but when it comes to a point where he can't afford to be passive about it, Sam will take action and will cut you out permanently -- emotionally, or depending on what you did, physically. Though he relies heavily on his head in most situations, Sam lets his emotions show the most when he's around Wyn: she truly does bring out the best in him, and he knows it.


    Physically speaking, Sam is rather lowkey and unsuspecting. He stands at a height of five feet and nine inches, the average height for an American male, and dresses in a large dark blue hoodie with a white turtleneck underneath. His jeans are ripped in a few places with some frayed ends from being stepped on under the heels of his feet, and his white tennis shoes are obviously not new. He's the type that you wouldn't easily -- if ever -- pick out of a crowd, and to be honest, Sam really doesn't mind that. After all, when you're as vigilant of survivors and supernaturals coming to pick a fight with you as though he is, you tend to favor a generic, low maintenance appearance. Sam has a youthful look about him that makes him appear 19 years old as opposed to his actual age, 24 years old. Perhaps it's the way his fine, light brown hair tends to get messy easily, or his big, expressive dark eyes? Who knows, man.


    Sam at least started out relatively normal: he was a childhood prodigy with an obvious gift in the field of math and science. His highly analytical brain caught on to patterns and formulas quickly, memorization came easily to him, and he has always been able to make connections with ease. The inner mechanisms of how systems (anatomical, mechanical, and chemical) operated and fit together fascinated him to no end, and his voracious appetite for knowledge made him academically unmatched and constantly curious. Because of his academic gift, Sam burned through pre-collegiate schooling and ended up going to a prestigious university at the tender age of 15. He kept his "boy genius" title throughout his collegiate schooling and became academically ambitious, thus earning him a PhD in physics at the age of 22. As expected, Sam became one of the youngest renowned physics researchers nationally, and he pursued his scientific career ambitiously and fiercely, because he was in love with what he did.
    Though he was hired to aid in research projects by others, Sam also much preferred to design his own experiments and projects and work on them either alone, or with his close friend, Allison Erd, another brilliant scientist with a passion for discovery. One of their personal, secret projects was to study just how the fabric of space and time worked and to see if there was a way to manipulate it: in other words, time travel. Realizing just how dangerous it could be (and knowing what the government would likely have to say about it), Sam and Allison kept the project hush-hush.
    Then, one late night, Sam and Allison finished the first functioning prototype of a time machine, and after a long day of performing tests on it (with varying degrees of success), Sam stepped inside it while it was turned off to make sure no screws or bolts had come loose. But while he was inside, Allison accidentally spilled her coffee onto the control panel, causing it to malfunction with Sam still inside. The malfunctions caused the machine (which hadn't even been tested on living beings yet) to aggressively thrust Sam through time and space, essentially deconstructing him down to his very cells, and then just as aggressively pulled him back to his own time, assembling him back together again. When Sam awoke, he was on the floor being vigorously shaken by Allison, who was sobbing and begging for him to wake up. The time machine had broken. He couldn't remember anything beyond the machine turning on and being blinded by a bright white light. Allison grew scared and refused to continue working on the project, claiming it was too dangerous. Because she was the only other one who knew of his endeavors and he couldn't continue work alone, Sam threw a sheet over the broken machine and stored it in his basement, a hidden memoir of his brush with death.
    Then, when he was 24, the apocalypse happened.
    Sam's home had been destroyed by the initial blast, not to mention his neighborhood was overrun by the Infected, so he fled like so many others did. He wandered on his own for a while until he ran into his first supernatural being: a towering angel that was such a bright white that it was painful to gaze upon it... the same light he'd seen before he woke up on the floor of his laboratory that night. The angel told Sam that it had seen his "little time trip" all that time ago, and they told him that they had been the one to ensure that he came back to his own realm still intact. The angel considered him a foolish, arrogant man of science to try and unravel the secrets of woven time like that. And yet despite all that, the blindingly white angel had grown oddly attached to the scientist by watching him progress through his life since that time and figured they'd give Sam what they thought he'd need to survive in this apocalyptic world: power. Before Sam knew what was happening, the angel placed its hand on his head and began pumping massive amounts of power into him all at once. It was agonizingly painful, and Sam was screaming through the whole process, feeling as though his body had become pure fire from all the heat and about to be ripped apart from the inside out. But when the pain subsided, Sam opened his eyes to find that he was lying on the ground and that the blinding white angel was gone.
    He came to discover that the angel had given him vast psychic power, and though he had no idea why the angel had given them to him, Sam decided not to question it. After all, he was alive, and considering how the world went to shit, that was saying infinitely more than most in this world.
    It wasn't long after getting his powers that Sam stumbled upon Wyn, who had been collapsed on the ground, and giving her the benefit of the doubt, saved her from the barren wasteland she surely would have died in. The plan was just to nurse her back to health and then send her on her way (what did he look like, a babysitter?), but after spending time with the little girl (and diving into her memories to see exactly what happened to her since she wasn't able to tell him), Sam grew attached and took her under his wing, becoming a father figure to her. They now roam the remains of the apocalyptic aftermath, trying to find a way to reverse everything.


    Sam's known psychic abilities include mind reading, telekinesis, "memory diving" as he calls it (touching a person's head and seeing into the memories of that person as they think about the memories), and converting his own aura into magical energy for combat (and his aura is rather dense due to his psychic power). When he engages his powers, Sam's eyes go completely white and glow brightly, and though it seems like his irises and pupils have disappeared, he can still see. Sam hasn't completely explored everything that he can do, and to be honest, he's actually rather scared about just how far his powers extend. He's afraid that there will come a point where he gets lost in his own power and loses his humanity, though taking care of Wyn helps anchor himself and remind him that he is still a person, despite all this power he suddenly now has to control.



    He is a loner for now lmao who knows


    Putting the things makes Young sad :c



    [img width=510 height=427]http://i.imgur.com/XeSj1Ky.jpg[/img]
    Wynter Kara Nash
    "..."


    Despite what Sam would tell you, Wynter (or Wyn, as she prefers to be called) is completely average when it comes to abilities. She's a normal human that hasn't been affected by the nuclear radiation, so she lacks powers. Wyn has just turned eight years old, though she has extreme difficulty speaking to the point where she is almost mute (explained in history section), but she and Sam are working on that together. Wyn is a small girl for her age, around four feet tall, with brunette hair that she wears in a bob style, though she thinks she wants to grow it out a little to her shoulders. Her eyes are a dark hazel that are always observing her surroundings, ever vigilant. Because of her small frame, she has small, curious hands that are always reaching out to find out more, or clinging onto the sleeve of Sam's hoodie. Sometimes Sam will let her wear the hoodie if she's cold, and it could practically swallow her whole if she zipped it up.


    Despite her verbal limitations, Wyn has very adept at getting her point across via hand gestures and facial expressions. Like a normal child, Wyn loves to explore and interact with just about everything, and she's just as curious as Sam used to be when he was her age. The existence of supernatural beings doesn't surprise her anymore due to living with Sam, but she really doesn't like it when he has to use his powers to fight. She finds him to be scary when he has to use his powers like that, even though she knows he has good reasons to do so.
    Wyn is also very stubborn. She's completely set in her decisions once she's made her mind up, and there's almost no amount of convincing in the world that can break her. If somebody she meets calls her Wynter rather than Wyn, she displays her dislike by making a face. Recently, she has begun to learn how to say Sam's name, though all she can manage for now is "Sa". Even so, it's the little victories that she and Sam take pride in.


    To put it simply, Wyn is almost completely mute. She was born to two parents that straight up did not want a child, but instead of giving her up for adoption, they for whatever reason just decided to put up with having her anyways. Because of her parents' obvious dislike of her, Wyn suffered from neglect: she was malnourished, not very clean, and had very little interaction with them. In fact, the only human interaction Wyn ever got was when she would be at a baby daycare service, which her parents were all to happy to dump her for most of the day. Because Wyn grew up with very little interaction with others apart from daycare and school when she got old enough to go, she did not develop verbal skills at the rate normal children do. Other children and teachers would speak to her, and though she could make noises and communicate through pointing and facial expressions, she could not speak back in a coherent sentence. As she grew older, Wyn became a very perceptive child and could sense that her parents hated her presence, so she didn't make efforts to be around them either, further isolating herself from others.
    If the apocalypse hadn't happened, then Wyn probably would have died in that house, likely from starvation, as a sad little girl who wasn't really given a chance. But after the world went to sh*t, Wyn's parents fled their home, abandoning a terrified little Wyn inside the house as hordes of Infected approached. Eventually, Wyn found her way out and ran as far as her malnourished little body would carry her, until she collapsed and fainted from fatigue in the middle of nowhere.
    Wyn woke up enveloped in a large, soft hoodie in the arms of a strange man with a kind smile and tired dark eyes. She was frightened at first, but the man proved to be friendly and wanting to help her. After he fed her the first meal she'd had in a long time, the man told her his name was Sam. He seemed keen on getting her back to her parents and asked if she could tell him anything about them, but Wyn sadly shook her head no. Sam didn't press her about it until a few days later, and this time, he asked if he could "memory dive" with her. Wyn didn't know what he meant, but she somehow felt like it wouldn't be a bad thing, so she nodded. Sam had put his hand on her head and told her to think about her past, so she did as she was told. She thought about the obscure faces of her parents that she couldn't fully remember if she wanted to, the feeling of wonder at all the people she'd interact with at school, the lonely nights where she couldn't scavenge enough food to have a filling meal and knew asking her parents for food would be met with silence, and everything else. Afterwards, Wyn looked up to see Sam with tears in his eyes, and he hugged her tight for a solid few minutes, refusing to let go. Wyn didn't know what he was upset about at first, but after he explained his powers and what he'd seen from her, she understood.
    When Sam told her that she could stay with him, she'd felt something from him that she'd had yet to receive in her brief little life: a sense of family.


    Wherever Sam goes, she goes, so yeah :o


    Putting the things makes Young sad :c

    Name:
    "Haster. Angel Haster."


    Initials:
    "AH. It looks like my badge is constantly heaving a sigh of relief, yeah?"


    Age:
    "Just turned 22. Guess that means I'm old now."


    Gender:
    "Though some might argue because of my 'girly' name, I am male."


    Career:
    "I've been through quite a few odd jobs, but I've been a bartender for one of the more popular dining places in the Globe for about a year now. I've seen and spoken with just about everybody, whether they've come for a drink or just to chat. People say the most interesting things when they're drunk."


    Badge:
    "Silver, which is cool, because that's my favorite color."


    Appearance:


    Personality:
    "That certainly depends on who you ask, doesn't it?"
    Angel is a very laid-back guy, and it's almost to a fault. Almost nothing fazes him, which can be good because it makes him easy to talk to, but it's also one of his flaws because if something goes wrong, it has to go very wrong for him to actually do something about it. This causes him to very much be a "live and let live" sort of person. He's very much a sociable person who enjoys the company of others, but when he has his moments where he needs to isolate himself. Angel tends to dance through life, but that doesn't mean he's unaware. On the contrary, Angel has a keen eye and attention to detail; it's like he has a photographic memory, which is helpful. Angel is very good at remembering names and faces, though he's best at keeping a secret. If Angel doesn't want you to know something, then there's a 99.9% chance that you won't learn it from him. Though he is very relaxed and very difficult to get riled up, Angel is not lax about two things: his work ethic, and taking care of his adopted little sister, Wyn. There is nothing more important to Angel than Wyn's safety and well-being.


    Relations: (With other characters and such)
    "My job kinda requires me to know just about everybody, especially the regulars that come through, but that doesn't necessarily mean that they'll know me too." He's bound to know lots of names, but not them personally. Hopes to change that.


    Pets:
    "Do sisters count as pets? Heh. I know, bad joke." None.


    Family:
    "It's just Wyn and little ol' me, and that's all we really need."
    • Wynter (Wyn) Haster -- adopted sister


    Other:
    No one may leave the Globe




    Name:
    "..."
    (Wynter Haster. Forgive her for not speaking, she's mute.)


    Initials:
    WH


    Age:
    (She excitedly holds up eight fingers.)


    Gender:
    (She looks confused and simply points to herself.)


    Career:
    (She makes a face at you for asking such a silly question.)


    Badge:
    (Her posture straightens up to show off her silver badge. She seems rather proud of it.)


    Appearance:


    She also wears this locket, rarely ever taking it off:


    Personality:
    (She appears to be thinking hard for a few moments, then shrugs.)
    Despite being mute, Wyn is just as expressive as those around her. Her muteness came about due to a birth defect, and because her birth parents saw this as an inexcusable imperfection to their "dream child", they were rather mean to her, eventually abandoning her on a sketchy alleyway. Wyn had sobbed until her voice was hoarse, and that was when Angel found her and took her in as his sister.
    She tends to communicate through facial expressions and gestures, though Wyn does know how to write, thanks to her schooling, and sometimes writes notes to get her point across. She's a kind yet timid child, often preferring to hide behind Angel when she meets somebody new, though she can be very playful when she's warmed up to you. Wyn is creative and loves to draw, so she carries a small pad of paper in the pocket of whatever outfit she has on, just in case. Wyn is a very tactile child, meaning she prefers to express herself through touch, especially since she can't communicate verbally. She's almost never seen without Angel, the only exceptions being when he's off at work (which is past her bedtime anyways) or when she's at school. She feels most safe with him, and even though they aren't related by blood, she thinks of him as direct kin.


    Relations: (With other characters and such)
    (She shrugs.)
    Angel is really the only one she's comfortable with, but she's not opposed to making new friends -- just really shy.


    Pets:
    (She shakes her head.)


    Family:
    (She excitedly shows you the picture of Angel inside her locket, beaming happily.)
    • Angel Haster -- adopted brother
    • Birth parents -- she doesn't remember them much at all now, but they're still out there somewhere.


    Other:
    No one may leave the Globe.

    [fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-style: bold; font-size: 28pt; margin-bottom: -2px; letter-spacing: -4px; text-align: center; color: lime; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px white;]Sam Payton Haster[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-style: bold; font-size: 14pt; margin-bottom: -5px; letter-spacing: -2px; text-align: center; color: limegreen;] take care of yourself, kid, because somebody really cares about you ![/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px;][hr][hr][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 300px;][justify][size=7pt]


    [size=9pt]NAME »[/size] "Sam Payton Haster, if you have to know the whole thing."
    [size=9pt]NICKNAME »[/size] "Sam works just fine. Or whatever else you wanna call me, I don't really mind."
    [size=9pt]GENDER »[/size] "Male, but thanks for asking."
    [size=9pt]AGE »[/size] "Twenty. Guess that makes me old, huh?"
    [size=9pt]RANK »[/size] "Forager. I'm much better at seeking and gathering than the whole 'stabby stab' thing with a weapon."
    [hr][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 300px;][justify][size=7pt]
    [size=9pt]HAIR COLOR »[/size] "Light brown. Maybe I should dye it a random color one day."
    [size=9pt]EYE COLOR »[/size] "I've got heterochromia, actually. My right eye is gray-green, and my left is blue. Kinda odd, but hey, it helps keep people's eye contact."
    [size=9pt]SCARS»[/size] "On my flawless skin? Pshh." He actually has a lot of scars on his torso, but he'd rather die than admit/show them to anybody.
    [hr][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 300px;][justify][size=7pt][size=9pt]PERSONALITY »[/size] "Gosh, what a loaded question. That depends on who you ask, y'know?"
    Sam is laid-back, though it's a double-edged sword with him. On one hand, his relaxed nature makes him easy to talk and open up to, but on the other hand, it can be difficult to get him interested in or motivated to do some things. It's also really hard to rile him up and have him show it (because he finds it exhausting and that he has very little self-control when he's pushed over the limit), so if you actually manage to piss him off, then you deserve some kind of medal. He's a social person that enjoys a good conversation, lots of laughs, and just a good time in general. Though he is outwardly a very calm and seemingly lowkey person, Sam is actually very observant of others and his surroundings as well as vigilant when it comes to his work ethic. Though he's a lot of things, he certainly isn't lazy, especially when it comes to Wyn, his adopted little sister. Sam is very protective of her and will do anything for her, even if it means losing himself.
    [size=9pt]LIKES »[/size]
    → being in a group
    → bad jokes
    → warm, clear nights
    → long runs
    → napping
    [size=9pt]DISLIKES »[/size]
    → when wyn is antagonized
    → intentionally difficult people
    → harsh weather
    → accidentally frightening wyn
    [size=9pt]STRENGTHS »[/size]
    → people person
    → empathetic
    → fast runner/swimmer
    → keen eye for detail
    [size=9pt]WEAKNESSES »[/size]
    → hides nearly all of his emotions
    → suffers from bad night terrors
    → explosive, unforgiving anger (when it's finally tapped into)
    [hr][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 300px;][justify][size=7pt][font=arial][size=9pt]HISTORY »[/size] "You, uh... really like getting personal, don't you?"
    Sam did not have the best home life. His family was poor and was constantly moving from house to house, trying to find somewhere with rent that they could actually afford without constant stress and tears. His parents both worked two jobs to keep the family of four (Mr. Geoff Haster, Mrs. Tina Haster, Chase Haster, and Sam Haster) off the streets, and though they succeeded in that, the stress of the situation made things strained. Still, they all loved each other dearly. Sam and his twin brother, Chase, got along really well and enjoyed much of that same things, like building things out of their LEGOs and other child's play.
    But one foggy night, everything changed.
    Chase and Sam had been playing outside in the little neighborhood that they lived in all day, even as the evening grew foggy and nightfall was fast approaching. Their mother had called from the front door that it was time for them to come home, and like the playful children they were, the twin boys decided to try and race each other home. In order to get back to their house, they had to cross several streets, but on the last one, Chase got hit by a speeding car that failed to see him due to the fog. Sam had watched him run out into the road, and he only managed to shout his brother's name before there was blood on the asphalt. Chase had died upon impact. He had been eight years old.
    Since then, the Haster family tore itself apart. Mr. Haster worked later and later into the night and slept all day, ultimately avoiding his family; Mrs. Haster took a leave of absence from her jobs and never returned, instead drinking all day and constantly being sick from lack of self care; and Sam fell into a deep, dark depression. He rarely ate, only doing so at lunch during school to appease the concerned teachers who insisted he eat something. Mr. and Mrs. Haster would get into aggressive arguments nearly every time they encountered each other, and Mrs. Haster would take it out on Sam in every way she knew how in the midst of her near-constant drunken stupors. That was also when his night terrors started, and they've never gone away since the night Chase died.
    Eventually, Sam graduated and moved out, deciding that he would put his efforts towards keeping a job rather than going to college. It wasn't long after he'd gotten his own place when he heard a soft sobbing sound coming from an alley on his way home from work one day. That was when Sam met Wynter, and something about her made his long-dead compassion revive itself. He took her in and accepted her into his life as his little sister, and taking care of her gave him a new purpose in life. Two years later, he'd gotten two promotions in his job, a better living arrangement for himself and Wyn, and he was just happier in general.
    Sam and Wynter had been on their way to a hotel to stay in for Sam's new job interview when the plane crashed.
    [size=9pt]MOTHER »[/size] Tina Haster (not included in RP)
    [size=9pt]FATHER »[/size] Geoff Haster (not included in RP)
    [size=9pt]BROTHERS AND SISTERS »[/size]
    → Chase Haster (deceased)
    → Wynter Haster (adopted little sister)
    [size=9pt]OTHER FAMILY »[/size] none/not important
    [hr][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 300px;][justify][color=lightgreen][size=7pt][font=arial][size=9pt]RELATIONSHIP STATUS »[/size] single
    [size=9pt]CRUSH »[/size] open
    [size=9pt]MATE »[/size] none
    [size=9pt]CHILDREN »[/size] none
    [hr][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 300px;][justify][color=lightgreen][size=7pt][font=arial][size=9pt]FEARS »[/size]
    → losing Wyn
    → forever being haunted by his past
    → fog doesn't necessarily scare him, but it's... unpleasant, to say the least.
    → his night terrors
    [size=9pt]DREAMS »[/size]
    → returning home
    → providing the best he can for Wyn
    → one day being at peace about Chase's death
    → leaving his past behind
    [hr][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 300px;][justify][color=lightgreen][size=7pt][font=arial][size=9pt]SCREEN NAME »[/size] --- young and beautiful
    [size=9pt]ACTIVITY »[/size] 7/10
    [size=9pt]PLOT IDEAS »[/size] i'll get at ya when i think of any
    [size=9pt]ROLEPLAY SAMPLE »[/size] answer
    [size=9pt]OTHER »[/size] sandy beaches




    [font=georgia][size=5pt][color=black]TEMPLATE © BOKEH

    [/size]



    [fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-style: bold; font-size: 28pt; margin-bottom: -2px; letter-spacing: -4px; text-align: center; color: lime; text-shadow: 0px 0px 10px white;]Wynter Kara Haster[/fancypost][fancypost bgcolor=; bordercolor=; borderwidth=0px; font-family: georgia; font-style: bold; font-size: 14pt; margin-bottom: -5px; letter-spacing: -2px; text-align: center; color: limegreen;][color=white]✯ speak with your heart, it's the loudest voice you have ![/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 500px;][hr][hr][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 300px;][justify][color=lightgreen][size=7pt][font=arial]


    [size=9pt]NAME »[/size] "..." (Wynter Kara Haster. Forgive her not speaking, she's mute.)
    [size=9pt]NICKNAME »[/size] (She squirms when she is called "Wynter", but seems very comfortable when referred to ask "Wyn".)
    [size=9pt]GENDER »[/size] (She seems confused and merely points to herself, insisting she's female.)
    [size=9pt]AGE »[/size] (She excitedly holds up eight fingers.)
    [size=9pt]RANK »[/size] (Her grip on Sam's sleeve tightens, insisting that whatever she's to do for this group, she must stay with him.) Helper, but refuses to forage without Sam.
    [hr][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 300px;][justify][color=lightgreen][size=7pt][font=arial]
    [size=9pt]HAIR COLOR »[/size] dark brown
    [size=9pt]EYE COLOR »[/size] hazel
    [size=9pt]SCARS»[/size] none
    [hr][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 300px;][justify][color=lightgreen][size=7pt][font=arial][size=9pt]PERSONALITY »[/size] (She seems to think hard for a few moments, then shrugs.)
    Generally speaking, Wyn is a timid yet calm child. Her lack of verbal communication makes it a little hard for her to communicate as easily as other people do, but she does very well with her facial expressions and gestures as well as writing notes or in the sand to get her point across. Once she gets over her initial timidness, Wyn becomes curious and inquisitive, wanting to know everything about anything. She's also very tactile when it comes to interacting with people, meaning that she expresses herself through touch, since she cannot verbalize. Wyn tends to announce her presence by either knocking on a nearby surface, grasping clothing she can reach, or tenderly taking your hand as she approaches. She's also a very artsy spirit, loving to create with anything she can get her little hands on. She's recently taken a liking to arranging stones, shells, or anything else she can find into illustrations or spelling out words with them, and she always wants to show off her work when she's done.
    [size=9pt]LIKES »[/size]
    → Sam
    → shiny objects
    → creating
    → music
    → rainy weather
    → helping prepare meals
    [size=9pt]DISLIKES »[/size]
    → strangers
    → being away from Sam for too long
    → sunburns
    → people that are too loud
    → jokes/slights about her muteness
    [size=9pt]STRENGTHS »[/size]
    → can read situations well
    → photographic memory
    → excellent climber
    [size=9pt]WEAKNESSES »[/size]
    → cannot swim at all
    → perhaps too dependent on Sam
    → becomes overwhelmed easily around strangers
    → gets frustrated when people don't understand her
    [hr][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 300px;][justify][color=lightgreen][size=7pt][font=arial][size=9pt]HISTORY »[/size] Wynter's full name used to be Wynter Kara Nash. She was born to a wealthy couple who paid ungodly amounts of money to have a "designer baby" (where the genes of the embryo are altered to get a desired trait, usually physical), but she suffered a birth defect that rendered her vocal chords useless. Upon discovering that their "perfect child" was born mute, the wealthy couple was outraged that their money had been wasted and opted to put the baby up for adoption. Wynter lived in an orphanage until she was three years old, and then she was shuttled in and out of different foster homes for different reasons. Some couldn't handle the added care and attention the mute child needed, some were found to abuse substances (but not her), and some just simply didn't want to foster her after spending time with her. Wynter had a lot of instability in her life, and one of the foster homes was so neglectful that she ran away at the age of six. She found herself a little alley to sit and cry in, and that was when Sam found her. She had been hesitant to go with him at first, but seeing how kind he was made her change her mind.
    She ended up staying with him and considers Sam to be her big brother, even if they aren't really related, and she loves him with all her heart. Two years later, Wynter had a stable home and a loving caretaker, which were two things that she didn't always have before.
    [size=9pt]MOTHER »[/size] Claire Nash (not included in RP)
    [size=9pt]FATHER »[/size] Roger Nash (not included in RP)
    [size=9pt]BROTHERS AND SISTERS »[/size] Sam Haster -- adopted big brother
    [size=9pt]OTHER FAMILY »[/size] unknown
    [hr][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 300px;][justify][color=lightgreen][size=7pt][font=arial][size=9pt]RELATIONSHIP STATUS »[/size]
    → she's 8
    [size=9pt]CRUSH »[/size]
    → any crushes she has are purely innocent and child-like
    → because she's 8
    [size=9pt]MATE »[/size]
    → nope
    [size=9pt]CHILDREN »[/size]
    → 8 years old, dude
    [hr][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 300px;][justify][color=lightgreen][size=7pt][font=arial][size=9pt]FEARS »[/size]
    → losing Sam
    → snakes
    → too many strangers at once
    → things that go bump in the night
    [size=9pt]DREAMS »[/size]
    → returning home
    → one day having siblings
    → having a puppy
    [hr][/fancypost][fancypost borderwidth=0px; width: 300px;][justify][color=lightgreen][size=7pt][font=arial][size=9pt]SCREEN NAME »[/size] --- young and beautiful
    [size=9pt]ACTIVITY »[/size] 7/10
    [size=9pt]PLOT IDEAS »[/size] i'll get at ya when i think of any
    [size=9pt]ROLEPLAY SAMPLE »[/size] answer
    [size=9pt]OTHER »[/size] sandy beaches




    [font=georgia][size=5pt][color=black]TEMPLATE © BOKEH

    [/size]


    [font=times new roman][color=white]i'd go ahead and write the rp samples for both of them but it's 3 am so mehhhhhhhhh


    He held the glass he'd been polishing up to the light, watching it flash brightly and inspecting it for any flaws. From the looks of things, it seemed to be flawless: clean without any chips or cracks in the delicate structure.


    Good.


    Angel set the glass back on the cabinet behind him and adjusted his bow tie. The uniform could certainly become uncomfortable at times, but even the bartender had to look sharp for the customers: after all, professionalism is what sells. The 22 year old turned back around and gazed out into the restaurant space, watching the people that were already seated and those that were just coming in. Not everybody was here for a late lunch or early dinner, however. There were some that needed that extra something to get them through the rest of their day, regardless of whether they already had work or were on their way to it. That was where Angel came in: all the people that needed a little liquid courage would come and sit themselves at his bar, watching him as he created their drinks any way they liked.
    Angel enjoyed the bar scene, but only when he was the one working the magic behind the bar. He much preferred to be the one to make it as well as talk to those who needed it, because people were just so fascinating: particularly when they were inebriated.


    Angel heard the door open, and he'd assumed that another soul had found its way into the bar. Looking up from polishing another glass he'd grabbed, the bartender had assumed correctly. In walked a girl that he was all too familiar with, and Angel's flashed his usual smile to her as she approached and took a seat at the bar. Her name was Vanessa, and she came here often enough, but she wasn't nearly as frequent as some of the actual regulars.
    " 'Sup, Vanessa?" Angel inquired, continuing to polish the glass in his hands until it shone as brightly as the first. He set it aside and rested his hands on the bar, eyes back on Vanessa. "What'll it be today? Lemon drop? Maybe a Jack and Sprite with some lime on the side?" Angel suggested the first few drinks that came to mind, as per his work protocol.


    He chuckled as she agreed to the lemon drop, and Angel immediately began his work. He poured the ingredients into the cocktail shaker, adding an extra pinch of sugar than normally used as a little bonus, then began to shake it up. He couldn't resist showing off a little though: the bartender shook normally at first, but then he began to play around a bit: tossing the cocktail shaker into the air and catching it behind his back, then bringing the container back around to the front while twirling it on the tip of his finger. After all, aside from making excellent drinks, pulling off tricks was how he got tip money. Once it was properly shaken, Angel poured the liquor into a martini glass, coated the rim of it with sugar, and then garnished it with a lemon wedge. He slid the drink to Vanessa, and then grew quiet as she spoke softly to him.


    Angel paused, blinking his light blue eyes in thought.
    Pale scary lady with a gold badge...? He grabbed his washing rag and began to wipe down the bar while discreetly scanning the restaurant space for anybody matching Vanessa's description. As far as he could tell, there wasn't anybody like that present at the moment. Once he confirmed his suspicions, he tossed the rag back onto his left shoulder and casually leaned onto the bar again.
    "Nope, haven't served anybody that looks like the grim reaper today," Angel cracked a joke, though he tilted his head slightly to the side in curiosity, much like a puppy would. "What sort of trouble did you get into?" He inquired, his tone a little more serious than before.

    ooc: ah, okay. i wondered if i wasn't recognizing a character that i should have been. :P thanks for clarifying :D
    ic:

    ᴀɴԍєᴌ ᴎᴀѕᴛєʀ


    Angel nodded in understanding as Vanessa explained her purpose for being there, though he couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at her comment about trouble and drinking. Now, the young bartender didn't know the scientist well enough to comment on her personal life, but based on what he heard from other folks and how she acted, Angel knew that Vanessa somehow lead a dangerous lifestyle. It was probably to be expected of a brilliant scientist that was given a bronze badge, since she was more or less forced to be sequestered in a dangerous area that would pay big money to have her abilities on their side. He chuckled. "We're all in some kind of trouble, Vanessa, even if we don't know it at the time." That was probably less profound than Angel made it sound, but he felt pretty d*mn clever by saying it. The bartender began to reach for another used glass to clean, but that was before the bar door opened. He casually glanced up, but seeing who was in the doorway made his chest tighten and his body stiffen up.
    "Wyn...?!"


    ᴡүɴᴛєʀ ᴎᴀѕᴛєʀ & ᴀɴԍєᴌ ᴎᴀѕᴛєʀ


    That bell signifying the end of school could not have rung at a more opportune time. Wynter sprung out of her chair and quickly made her way out of the building, not daring to look back. She rounded the nearest corner and leaned up against the wall, breathing heavy from the fast pace she'd made. knew they would be there, waiting to catch her by herself. That's what they always did, every day.
    "Hey!"
    Her stomach did a flip as she heard one of their voices. Wynter jumped, startled by the sudden sound, and turned to see the three girls from her class. They thought they were so cool, with their bright colored little purses and strawberry flavored chapstick, and they always found that making fun of others was all too much fun. Yet, recently, they had been relentlessly targeting Wynter, deeming her easy yet equally as delightful. After all, how can a mute victim fight back?
    "What's the matter, Wynter? Cat got your tongue?"
    One of the girls practically spat the words at Wynter, and she could feel a wash of shame rush over her little body as the group began to laugh. She could feel the hot tears begin to pool in her eyes, though she did her best to discreetly wipe them away.
    "Look! She's crying!," Another of the girls pointed at her. "Wynter can't talk and she cries? What a big baby!"
    Their words stung, and they stung deep. Wynter turned and ran away, desperately trying to escape from all the bullying that she'd endured ever since she walked into that school building that day. She was certain they weren't following her, and though Wynter knew that she was supposed to go straight home and wait for Angel to come home, she decided against it. Instead, the eight year old girl somehow navigated her way to the familiar restaurant -- Angel's workplace -- and opened the door, immediately locking eyes with her guardian/big brother. She ducked and dodged her way through the crowd of loud people with the colorful drinks and strange cups, eventually making it to her brother and hugging his legs tightly.


    Angel immediately abandoned the glass he'd been polishing and bent down to pick up his adopted sister, hugging her close to him as he sat her down on the bar.
    "Wyn, what are you doing here? You know you're not supposed to be here when I'm working..." Angel's tone was disciplinary yet gentle, and he became silent as he looked at her face. Were those tears in her eyes and on her face? His protective, "brother bear" side flared up within him, but for Wyn's sake, he chose to remain calm. He knew she must have been bullied again, and getting angry wasn't going to help her calm down. With a sigh, Angel gently stroked Wyn's hair and looked her in the eyes.
    "Okay, fine. You can stay here until my shift ends in about an hour and thirty minutes, but you cannot leave my side until we're home. Got it?" He used his "big brother voice" as he spoke to her and was relieved when she nodded in agreement. He put one arm around his adopted sister and then faced Vanessa once more.
    "Well, uh... Vanessa, this is Wyn, my little sister. Don't mind her, okay?" Though his words were friendly enough, his eyes held that protective glaze he always got when she was involved. Angel loved Wyn more than anything in the world: more than himself, even.

    ѕᴀɱ ᴎᴀѕᴛєʀ


    He wasn't sure what happened. Everything was blurred together, and he was slowly regaining his senses back. It felt as if he were floating in some sort of warm void. He didn't want to open his eyes, and he let himself drift. He attempted to heave a calm sigh...


    ... and was greeted with salty water rushing into his lungs.


    Sam's body went into automatic panic mode, and his eyes flew open only to be stung and tortured by the same salt water that plagued his lungs. He was underwater. The twenty year old immediately began to swim upwards in a frantic frenzy, fighting to get closer to the shimmering light above until he finally breached the surface. He took a large gasp of air, immediately followed by violent coughing and hacking to get the water out of his body. Sam's two-toned gaze frantically scanned the area, and only then did he realize what had happened.
    The plane had crashed.
    He was out at sea.
    Alone.
    Panic filled his heart again as he realized the gravity of everything. Alone? He wasn't supposed to be alone! He had somebody with him... somebody very special and important...!


    "Wyn?!" He called out between coughing fits, though he was met with no reply. In the back of his mind, he knew that shouting her name wouldn't help: the girl was mute, so even if she heard him, she couldn't call out back to him. But some sort of primal instinct to protect the last bit of family he had left had Sam keep trying. He didn't dare entertain the intrusive thought that reminded him that the disabled little girl didn't know how to swim, and kept shouting to anybody -- or anything -- that could hear. "Wynter! Wynter!" He wanted to believe that she'd somehow hear him and magically appear next to him, though it was all in vain. "No, please, no!" Sam's eyes began to burn with the heat of his own tears, and his body was starting to ache all over. He didn't know for how much longer he could stay afloat in the ocean like this... But then, he spotted an island. Without even stopping to think, Sam began to swim as fast as he could towards the shore, though his muscles ached and whined against his efforts. Once his feet touched sand, Sam immediately started to run up onto the sugary, white-sanded shore, sopping wet from head to toe.


    He opened his mouth to try and call out to his sister again, but fatigue finally started to settle in for him. The world began to blur together, and his balance started wavering as well. Sam slowly began to hunch over, and he managed to put himself onto the ground on all-fours, fighting for consciousness.
    "Wyn...!"
    Sam fought the oncoming fainting episode to try and listen out for the sound of footsteps, or anything at all that indicated human life...
    But nobody came.
    His body couldn't take it anymore, and Sam finally collapsed and fainted on the shore.



    ᴡүɴᴛєʀ ᴎᴀѕᴛєʀ
    Warmth.
    That's all she felt at first.


    She could feel that her body was warm, and that she was laying somewhere soft. It almost made her not want to get up, but something in the back of her head nagged that she really should try to wake up. Wynter slowly opened her eyes, blinking and squinting against the harsh light that she was greeted with. Once they adjusted, Wynter realized that she was lying on her back, staring up at the sky. Confused, she looked to her left, only to be greeted with the sight of white sand and the sound of ocean waves lazily lapping at the shore. Startled by the unexpected environment, Wynter quickly sat up, wide-eyed, and looked around to realize that she was surrounded by sand and water.


    She looked around, her eyes searching for a familiar face, but she came to realize that she was alone. Where was Sam? Why wasn't he here with her? The mute eight year old stood up, examining herself. She realized that she was wearing a large hoodie that was obviously meant for a larger person, and her body felt heavy from her clothing's water retention, not to mention she was covered in sand. She waded in the shallow water to rinse herself off, and then looked around for some kind of clue as to what happened.
    What happened...? Wynter wondered, trying to search through her memories. Sam and I were sitting together on the plane... I laid my head down in his lap... then he put his hoodi-- Wynter cut herself off, realizing with a rush of dread that it wasn't just a random hoodie she had on. It was Sam's hoodie.
    That's right... he put this on me to keep me warm... then there was this awful sound, and the plane...! Everything rushed back to Wynter faster than she could really process, though once it all sank in, tears began to flow down her cheeks.


    The plane crashed.
    Sam -- her guardian, her "big brother", the one person who always understood her -- was gone.


    Panic set in, and Wynter began to run along the shore, looking for any sort of sign that she wasn't alone. It didn't take long before she noticed two people in the distance: a man and woman, from what she could tell.
    Sam...?
    The mute child didn't stop to think if it was him or not, and she raced towards the man and instinctively hugged his legs, relived that she wasn't alone. But then she looked up, and when she realized it wasn't Sam, Wynter's heart fell to the ground. She immediately recoiled from the man, and she was left looking up at the faces of the two strangers. Scared and standing vulnerable before two people she didn't know at all, Wynter began to silently sob again.