Lore Weaver's Legion

L

Lore Weaver

Active Member
I don't have a ton of characters for RP here right now so "Legion" is more aspiration at the moment.

Also I don't have pics for any of my characters due in part to the reason because and because due to the intention of using most of these characters in multiple RPS with different settings and genres, the appearances could vary radically. S I will try and be as effiiiently descriptive as possible.Suggestions for pics are always welcome, but please don't be offended if I choose not to use them.

If I assemble enough characters to form a guild or for a particular RP, I will form a new thread.
 
Name:: Gizzard
Race: Lycanthrope/Were-Wolf
Age: Old enough to Know better, Young enough to not care (Around 40 in human years)
Gender Male
Appearance:

Human form, he is lean and gnarled with muscle, standing just over 6'3", with black hair streaked with gray and eyes golden enough to draw the envy of the sun. Depending on the setting, he wears various forms of hoods, cloaks or jackets ove clothing stained with blood, mud , sweat and alcohol (rum if it is found in the setting.)

Wolf Form: lean, muscular, with fur that appears to be as sharp as spines. Patches of skin are covered in wekts and scars. Over six feet in length and three feet in height, when on all fours,some might mistake him for a hagard and wan beast but that is belied by the speed of his gait and the ferocity of his attack/ Blood lust always shines in his golden eyes, but so does the cunning and patience of a seasoned hunter and survivor. His coat is teh revers of his hair, grey streaked with black. His muzzle reeks of rum and blood.

Sexuality; No Preference but Very Picky

In My Own Words:

Before I slice your throat and flavor my rum with your blood, let me tell you a little bit about the demise fate has chsoen for you. As you know by now, I am a Were-Wolf,. A true, pure were-wolf, not one of those sniveling insults to the breed gifted with what some call the curse of a bite. No, I was born and bred into the race before it wa tainted with such rubbish. Once I ws a proud member of a pack,a pork born to dominate, to rend humans to pieces and tear the flesh from their bones while guzzling their blood. But that all changed as our species and our pack became diluted with the impure, not only those bitten but those bred by pro-creation with worthless humans. After failing to reason with my closest kin to eliminate those impurities, I retreated into the shadows, observing with heartache and disdain as my pack has become a shadow of itself. But a shred of my loyalty remains and perhaps I can be persuaded to step from the shadows again,.

But you will never know, as you watch while I slake my first on your blood and sate my hunger on you entrails, rue the day you crossed my path.
 
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Name; Cheri Wild
Race: Human (some variation depending on the RP)
Age: late teens, early twenties (depending on RP)
Gender: Female
Appearance: She stands at anywhere between 5'3" and 5'7" (depending on SL) Her hiir is naturally jet-black andof varying length but depending on the whims, desires, orders of her clients, customers, pimps or owner(s) she will dye it, cut it, grow it out or wear wigs. Her eyes are blue but she will wear contacts if requested/ to. Skin as pure ivory when no make-up is applied and no hands or implements have cut, bruised or burnt it. The athletic, lithe tones of her body arecan be revealed, teased or completely covered . On the rare times she operates by her own whims, she prefers comfortable, casual clothing that covers as much as possible.

Sexual Preference: If she is allowed the freedom to choose, she is bi-sexual otherwise whatever is decided for her.

In My Own Words

I don't know why you want to know anything about me, but it is you money and th I have been commanded to fulfill any of your requests. There is not much to say, my memories of my childhood are brief moments of happiness clouded by pain. I don't know why, I don't want to know. All I know is I foud myself alone on the streets, I thik I may have been ten or eleven. Discarded, abandoned, .clearly unworthy of even the love of those who were supposed to care for me., I survived at all costs, in alleways, under bridges, under the roof of a warehouse or the cellar of a shop. I begged, robbed, ran errands, gambled, danced and yes..g avve body up for a warm meal,a place to stay, or just to survive the night.

Don't waste the pity of that look on me and don't duck your head in shame either. I know my place in life. I soon realized that my body was my best commodity and my willingness to surrender it to the desires of others was my greatest strength. Letting others claim ownership of me, whether temporarily or for what they say is forever, is my only way to wake up another morning. I've been traded, sold, caged and left for dead more times than I can remember. I've even been housed by naive, welll-meaning fools who think they can nurture me into becoming "my own person", but it never lasts. Either they wisen up and realize why I exist, or their kindness and generosity strangles me and I escape back to my destiny.

Don't..don't try and trick me with some offer of comfort. You've wasted all your time listening to me when you could have used me however you wish. Sorry, next time spend your money more wisely.
 
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Name: Mortimer Von Drake
Race:Half-Human/half-Cyborg
Age: Mid-thirties
Gender : Male
Appearance: Mortimer stands at just over 5'11". Most of his facial features are human, with weathered, tanned skin and a nos ethat has been broken in three places. His left eye and corresponding cheekbone and underside of the jaw are a forest-green metal patched together like scales and the orb that glows in the socket changes color from silver to bright red when the laser retina is ready to fire. His head is shaved to reveal the dragon scull carved in white over his scalp. Scales of green metal also comprise his abdomen, lower chest and right arm, which ends in a clawed hand of the same material. His left arm and shoulders are typically garbed ingreen leather as his right leg, while his left leg ishines with scales of green metal. Around his waste is belt armed with different extensions which he can re[lace the clawed hand with on his righ arm, providing him with a complement of weapons and implements at his disposal. Over his shoulder, a pulse-cannon he can wield with his left hand is nestled in a leather pack.

Weapons/Implements: While he has no natural powers, he has access to a flexible array of weapons and tools that can be attached and detached to and from his right arm in addtion to the pulse cannon and laser eyes, which can serve as both a weapon, scalpel, mini=torch or anything else he can improvise. The silver eye is used as a scanner that detects and projects various waves of light, radiation including giving him the ability to utilize x-ray and infra-red vision. The lenses on the eye are removable, either one at a time or both at once and raplacable with other lensesr and replacement must be donw carefully as any damage to the orb can not only impair, or perhaps blind him in that eye but also render all lenses useless.The metal sole of his left foot houses a modified , small rocket engine which allows for limit bursts of flight. While his metal limbs are stronger than his left, all of them are at least above average in physical power.

Weaknesses/Vulnerabilities: His cybernetic parts are prone to malfunction pr complete failure when damaged enough. While he can don a covering that simulates flesh over his metal parts, he is not ideal for covert operations except in specific circumstances. Like all hard-drives, no matter how sophisticated,his cybernic brain can be tampered wit hacked, even wired or shut-down either though direct access or through some virus or other program that penetrates the several layers of security protecting it.

In My Own Words
I know what you want to know, but the answers died with my human brain. All I know is what is that I awoke in this form, and all that maters is fulfilling my next mission.
 
Name: Isabelle Fontaine
Race: Half-Human/Half-Siren
Gender: Female
Age: Early to Mid Twenties

Appearance: 5'3" , slender but curved build with auburn hair and bronzed skin. She prefers to wear modest gowns that tennd to do more to hide and appeal he rbody might have than accentuate it.

Sexual Preference:Sworn to Remain Chaste (But If She Is Chased, will someone unlock her heart and more?)

In My Own Words

Dear Diary
Today father has left for his expedition. Once again, he refussd to tell me where he was going and for what purpose, though I imagineit is related to pying someone he lost a wager to. hi He will be gone for weeks, perhaps months, leaving me keep the manor as best as I can on the meager funds available to me until I can find a way raise enough coin to hire one servant. Of course between his inability to keep his coins out of other people's purses and the rumors of a curse that plague our family, it will be almost impossible to keep even one servant employed. .
.
Oh, I'm sorry, I wet your fine pages with an errant tear, It is just so hard at times like this not to think of my birth and wtah cost him, what it cost us. I wonder if sometimes he wishes I had never been born, that she was still alive. Sometimes I do, even though I know so little about her, never seen a picture or even a sketch.Have barely heard two words form his lips about her on the rare occasions he speaks of her, All I know is her ashes floated somewher out on the waves that wash upon the docks . The same waves I will watch every morning when I wake up and every night before I go to sleep until he returns.

There's the urge to sing again, welling up inside me, whenever my thoughts wander to her. But I swore to him I would never sing, and I haven't. Not since that day on the garden when I was a little girl. His look of horror and awe is frozen in my memory. I imagine my voice must remind me of her in some way must fil his head and hear with pain and regret. Or I am simply a horrid singer. Whatever the case, I will not sing again nor marrya s long a she lives and even then never the latter.

But there, enough reflection on sentimentality and heartbreak, Ithe house will not clean itself and I must keep it tidy until he returns.
 
Name: Vanessa Randolph
Race: Human
Gender: Female
Age: 18-20
Appearance: 5'2" lean athletic build makes her look taller. Blonde curly hair, Blue eyes In addition to her ears, her navel is pierced.
Sexual Preference Whoever Brings Their A-Game

In My Own Words

I use dto think growing up the daughter of a teacher and a doctor was hard.
The expectations were like so high. Even when I was a kid. I couldn't just have fun with
my classmates and get good grades. I had to get the best grades. I couldn't miss five minutes of a class, let alone skip even one, Sick in bed with a fver? Not only did my parents get the homework, they escorted me right down to the dining-room table so they make sure I caught up with all of it. When I tried out for basketball in middle school and made thet team, the boys team, they forbid me from playing because it would take "too much time from my studies " But somehow, the debate \teams, science, math and glee clubs they practically held a gun to my head to join, they were perfectly fine.

But I actually am glad about the glee club because that is where I discovered I could really sing, at least a little bit. I got a lot of solos, at least, That led to me ditching those other torturous clubs whenever I could, and hanging out at various band practices. I would flirt with the band members and they would let me fool around with their instruments.

Not those instruments. The musical ones. Don't be gross. I w as like twelve.

I did convince my mom to let me start taking dance c lasses ,,,whichwas the last nice thing she ever did for me,

Cause then she got into politics. Yeah, she caught that "public service" bug hard. And local office wasn't enough for her. She ran for Governor.. even worse... she won.

Yeah that's right, she's that Sylvia Randolph..

So now she is governor, we moved into the mansion, my old friends pretty much all hate me and I can't get away with anything. At least she din't put up too much of a fuss when I tried out for and made the Cheerleading squad ny freshman year of high school.
Of course the uniforms got a lot more modest, And I am not allowed to be one of those girls the guys hold up by one hand. Cause you know, they'd have to touch my butt through the layers of spanks and underwear my mom make me wear. "Just In case>"

So now when my social life should be entering it's prime, it's pretty much DOA. No parties, except for boring AF political functions and no dating except for the hand-picked milquetoast sons of my mom's richer contributors, none of whom would brush crumbs off my dress let alone try and even cop a feel.

But there are two things my parents can't take away from me, not yet, anyway. My musiic, I've been writing and recording my own songs and working on dance routines in my prison cell, I mean bedroom And my online persona.

Cause thanks to a friend of mine who is so good at computers, no one can trail my activity, I may not have a life in reality.. but Violet Reyes has one hell of one in virtual reality.
And when I graduate and move out of this ivory tower, that life is going to be mine,.
 
Name: Mercy
Canon: The 100
Race : Hunan
Affiliation: Grounders
Gender: Female
Age: 22
Appearance: 5'3" 115 lbs . Short honey=blonde hair slightly curled and tangled in knots. Her build is knotted with muscle with just hints of curves to defy any label of boyish. Features bronzed by the sin are tinted with green dye that allows her to peek out from behind foliage in order to blend into foliage either to hide from danger or ambush her enemies.
 
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