Character(s) A Soulless Future (Characters/OOC)

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Character(s) A Soulless Future (Characters/OOC)

MissPerception

Gentle Earthquake
Local time
Today 5:11 PM
Messages
50
Location
United States
(Note: This is just a rough skeleton to be used if you'd like, you can add/leave out what you'd like, as long as name, age, and alignment are included. Have fun and please feel free to suggest any ideas for story here as well, I'm all about collaboration and creativity! I'll occasionally include links to songs that inspired me to make this rp, I'll put them in spoilers for those who wish to listen.)

Character Sheet

Name
Tabitha

Age
26

Appearance

Tabitha is fairly tall, five foot eight inches, with skin made golden by her lifetime spent in the wild jungles of Besielis. She's covered in lithe muscles and various scars from fighting off the warped wildlife she's surrounded by, various colored paints always accentuating these natural decorations. Hazel eyes as wild as she is gaze out from behind auburn curls, the likes of which haven't been seen in quite some time, though the color is duplicated in the salons within the city limits. She's almost always wearing a small cape of furs draped over her shoulders, various shades of fox, a mask carved from the branch of a weeping willow designed after the animal one of her favorite items to wear. Surprisingly, her and her people scavenge supplies from the city, too, and so her chest and hips are covered by an altered crop top the color of the forest, and a pair of tight khaki shorts. Her feet are bare and seem to always be dirty, even after she takes a bath. Occasionally, when she misses her mother, a necklace with the skull of a crow dangles around her neck.

Personality
Wise beyond her years and deeply knowledgeable of nature, Tabitha suffers from naiveté involving any technology, but this flaw doesn't seem to bother her in the slightest. Her deep resentment of tech stems from her connection with nature and the planet, and she obeys her emotions and instincts with the belief they can guide her through any trouble. Kind yet firm, Tabi never misses a moment to teach or to learn, and she loves to connect to her fellow man through playing drums or singing. Her devotion to the Apple Tree runs deep in her veins, and she longs to be like her mother.

Alignment (Rebels, Tribe, etc)
Tribe Member

Skills/Abilities (if applicable)
Knowledgeable when it comes to nature, able to identify most plants as safe or unsafe even if she doesn't know their "proper" name. Proficient with the use of a bow and arrows, as well as short spears, though she prefers to hunt for plants rather than animals. Though she lacks traditional knowledge, she is a musical savant.

Personal History
Tabi's grandmother, her namesake, escaped the city of Besielis with her chosen mate and a handful of close friends, overriding the tech so violently shoved into their brains by means which were always simply implied and guessed at rather than explained. They built the tribe from nothing, learned the ways of nature, decided to live in peace and harmony as they acclimated to the new sensation of emotions. Tabitha has few memories of her mother, since the woman died when she was only four years old, the other adults coming together to raise and educate Tabi in whatever ways they could. Her love and proficiency in music comes from the memory of her mother singing her senseless lullabies during their forest walks, and though her mother was very much so a pacifist, Tabi assumes her unknown father gave her the drive and passion to fight. Tabitha spends her days hunting, gathering, learning, and worshipping the Apple Tree with the other members of her small tribe, more of a family than those who are connected based on genes within the city. Curiosity, however, has driven her ever closer to the great stone walls of Besielis more than once.
 
Name
Jayson Alvarro

Age
31

Appearance

Standing at the height of six feet and four inches, this lightly tanned man has the typical unfocused eyes of an implanted drone, albeit dark hazel. But behind this unfeeling gaze is something hard, born of his profession. All hair is raven black, short on top with a neatly trimmed padlock moustache and beard. He dresses in a sharp men's business suit, although in some situations he can be seen without the jacket, openly displaying his light red button-up dress shirt beneath. He walks and holds himself like a career soldier, always wary and rarely putting up even the facsimile of a smile.

Personality
Flexible in his perspective, he always analyzes a situation to ascertain the winner and assess profit. Alvarro is a product of the implant, he's known nothing but cold and rational thinking since he was a toddler. He adopts a go-getter attitude for the purposes of his job, but in a private scenario, he will act almost languid; Like the strain of living is nearly too much to do anything about.

Alignment (Rebels, Tribe, etc)
Neutral (for now)

Skills/Abilities (if applicable)
Knows his way around most modern firearms and some knives; A crack shot, though he hasn't taken the field in years. More recently, he has become a competent financial manager for his own startup. Jasyon is proficient in most modern information technologies and is a passable survivalist if the necessity were to arise, which it luckily never has.

Personal History
Besielis is a cold place, but contract work can keep you afloat. In this case, Alvarro chose private military contracture with elements within the walls, including the local government itself. After years of relative scraps, he had secured enough to begin his own startup, Titan Securities. They'll defend your sites, and offer other select services for the discerning corporate or government entity. Due to his particular line of work, Jayson has found it easier to stay away from relationships and family until retirement; There were less complications this way, fewer chinks in his proverbial armor. As of the last successful quarter, Titan Securities boasts a total of sixteen operators and two AnvilTec Hummingbird VTOL craft working three separate contracts. He lives alone, in a small quarter on the ninth floor of a nondescript apartment complex.



Titan Securities
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Name: Washington. First name highly confidential.

Image:
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Age: 54 years.

Height: 6'5".

Weight: 227 lbs.

Appearance: Washington wears black. From black dress shoes shined until the sun reflects as if off the surface of a lake to a coat dark as night, he is clad in a color devoid of emotion. Washington always leaves his work wearing black gloves and wielding a cane. The cane has a twisting, serpent-like design in a dull gold. The dull gold matches the buttons on his suit coat, and is the only color apart from black on his person. His hair is a matching black, as are his eyebrows. His eyes, in a dramatic shift, are a piercing blue while his skin is unnaturally weathered. Deep lines run across his face, giving him an even more ominous presence.

Personality: Washington is everything a leader should be. Cunning, ruthless, and an expert liar. He rules a world from the shadows, using the Stum Implant to assert a quiet dominance over the world. He does this for good, peace, and harmony. Without impulse, without feeling, without emotion, the world remains quiet. The world marches on with no time, energy, or lives wasted on useless empathy. Washington often makes public appearances, greeting the public in the most inhumane way imaginable...with a smile. This is his world. He will act with any force necessary to keep it that way.

Alignment: The one true denizen of Justice. A god among men.

Skills/Abilities: Washington is, in no small terms, a genius. A master strategist, he is always several steps ahead of the curve. The cane he carries is a both a blade and firearm, though serving as the latter offers him a very limited number of shots. Washington is expertly trained in both hand to hand and ranged combat with a firearm. He also carries a sidearm tucked inside his suit coat. As the man in charge of the experimentation and future development of the Stum Implant, he is both adaptive and experimental, capable of forming new ideas from nothing at a moment's notice.

Personal History: Washington. A name that was not given at birth. A surname replaced. First name highly confidential. Chosen after a world leader who revolutionized the world. Washington will continue to lead the world into new glories, unhindered by the fetters and shackles of "emotion". Besielis is the center of the universe, and Washington the center of Besielis, in his mind. Not much is known of Washington before he took control of Stum Enterprises, the maker of the Stum Brain Implant. Washington experiments new trials of the Implant on himself frequently...with highly negative effects.

While his heinously modified Implant is in control of his positive emotions, Washington feels anger. He feels rage, hate, disgust, scorn, and fury at the imperfection of society. He is aware of a "secret" rebel drug scene that has been selling this..."cure" to the Implant. Being able to freely feel emotion once more, the "promise" of a better life. It sickens Washington to his core, but for every one of these rebels he finds, tortures, injects, experiments on...more seem to sprout up. A weed that requires an extra dose of poison to kill, Washington moves from the shadows to exterminate these vermin from his world.

Recently, the voices in the walls have told Washington of a tribe that lives outside of Besielis, a small group that have somehow "deactivated" their Stum Implants. Apparently, the rebels have been after this tribe...but if Washington were to find them first...discover how they had shut off their Implants...he may be able to advance the Stum Implant further, make it immune to whatever this drug the rebels are producing. The world was his right. He would not be denied his destiny. Washington is Justice. He is the Divine Fury that will extinguish those who stand against a society with no war, no pain, no feeling.
 
Name: Arrid

Gender: male

Age:22years

Apperance: arrids tall 6,2, masculine with no facial hair, his head hair is a glosy brown and and his eyes are red.

Personality: smartass and loving at home. But in the heat of battle, his mind is set to one thing. Win.

Alliance: his tribe, and his allies



Skills: good at tkd and judo ,black belt in both

History: He was born 22 years ago, he met tabitha when he was 6 years ago, he was always trying to impress her, even tho the age gap. Eventually he exepted, they were just friends. But despite that, his feelings never left, and he vowed to protect her, because of that he trained to become a warrior, just for her.
 
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Name: Wallace "Wally" McKay

Image:
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Age: 23 years.

Height: 6'0".

Weight: 142 lbs.

Appearance: Wally is lanky and wiry, almost gaunt in his appearance. Angular bones are covered with tight skin, making it seem like he hasn't slept in weeks. He dresses in browns and grays to help blend into the underground lifestyle he lives. Underneath his jacket he wears a red t-shirt, the only article on his body that wasn't a muted color. His hair is a shaggy black and his face clean-shaven. To protect himself from any chemical spills, his entire body is covered including navy blue gloves. His gaze is usually sympathetic, and his tone is quiet.

Personality: Wallace McKay is a leader, not particularly by choice. He is a brilliant man, a chemist and bioengineer, leading him to break down complex decisions by "molecule". Wallace is patient and kind, more understanding than most that reside in the city. His personality is shaped by one unwavering philosophy; "The way we live is inhuman, and I will return humanity to the world". Despite this mentality, he was never a person on the front lines and often questions any aggressive decisions he makes. For instance, this tribe...but that's for another time.

Alignment: Leader of The Future, a renegade rebel group opposing the Stum Implant.

Skills/Abilities: Wally is an expert chemist, which applies to more than just creating this drug. He is capable of producing explosives, gunpowder, basic medicines, and a lengthy list of other products provided he has access to the base materials. While not a physical fighter, not every fight comes down to fists. Wally keeps multiple devices on his person in case someone does get too hands-on for his taste, but he'd rather fight from a supportive position, providing the tools and weapons needed to win a war behind the scenes.

Personal History: Where the Stum Implant is located in the brain is a mystery. Wallace is certain those in charge know exactly how to get it out, but it has eluded him so far. He doesn't know where his own Implant is and has long since given up trying to find it. While working as a bioengineer, Wallace McKay stumbled upon a formula by mistake, and through an impulse not felt in years, injected it into himself.

He felt things. Experiences. It was hard to describe, but tears fell from his eyes. He didn't know why or how to interpret this information, so he ventured to one of the city's libraries. Sure enough, he found information on the history of the planet, how "emotions" and "feelings" dictated humanity for many lifetimes. Whatever this formula was...it enabled him to feel. Piece by piece, day by day, he collected the supplies he would need to continue manufacturing this drug he called "Hope". Soon enough...Wallace vanished. He found allies, other scientists he filled with Hope. They were taught how to be fully human again, and they went into hiding. Hope was the future...Hope was...hope.

This team of scientists have formed The Future, a rebel alliance who's true numbers are unknown and base of operations is a secret. They have honed the Hope Formula to several products. No longer does it need to be injected, but can be taken orally, inhaled, or absorbed through the skin. Truly it is remarkable what The Future holds in their possession, and day by day, they will secure humanity's freedom once more. The Stum Implant is oppression in the barest form, a monster with hands outstretched to swallow the world. Wallace stands in front of this creature, ready to provide Hope to all who can afford it...until he has enough to set everyone free.
 
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"Rain" of the Tribe.
~Lareine the Wildling~


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| F | 28 years | 6'5" | 235 | Black Hair | Blue Eyes |

  • Athletic build made for speed, stamina and strength, fine tuned with over a decade worth of solitary survival, hunting, running and fighting.
  • Always has best footwear. Always wraps ankles and wrists for support.
  • Tattoos on arms, chest and face. Scars all over body. Of note is claw marks on her back.
  • Travels light and only carries what she needs. Has caches of supplies all across her territory.
  • Bow, arrows and big military blades are always at the ready.
~PERSONALITY

Watchful and Curious
Piercing blue eyes are always inspecting, shifting, staring, attempting to take in the greatest amount of detail within the shortest amount of time. Not only gifted with vision but hears exceptionally well and does not like loud noises. Olfactory is way more sensitive than regular humans and sniffs a lot at things she does not understand. She may not be able to parse sarcasm or other common subtleties of the Tribe members but she will notice subtle changes in attitude or mannerisms and become suspicious. Common Tribe life is still unfamiliar to her so she is constantly poking and prodding at people places and things. Invades personal spaces of those she trusts especially while they are sleeping. Curiosity usually gets the best of her and sometimes puts her in unsavoury predicaments.​
Independent yet Loyal

Living on her own for so long has given her the greatest sense of freedom and fountains of knowledge she may ever experience. But with that comes her detest for authority figures and her inability to maintain directions tossed at her. She is used to only she and Click in the wilderness together but she has come round to those in the Tribe that she has let into her guarded life. The woman still prefers to do things her way but will still try to accommodate others of whom she trusts. She has even taught them her strange language of clicks, taps and hand signals to better communicate with them since she is mute. They are only few, but she watches over them fiercely and will provide them gifts, however, she has a strange expectation of them too; whenever her immense frame lies on them, she expects to be groomed.​
Playful but Aggressive

A big girlie kitty at heart, she loves to play and wrestle with her close circle in the Tribe. She may be a bit rough, but she will back off once she realizes that she may be hurting them. And to the other females that she really likes, she will coo and comfort them with caresses and kisses. She loves music and actually is a rather good dancer; it shows that she had been practicing in the wild. Practical jokes played upon others or even herself draws out her rare yet wild chuffing and hiccupy laughter and usually brings others to join in with her laughs too. But as playful as she is, she is still first and foremost a survivor. The woman is quick to draw arms and hiss versus listening to reason; she deems herself physically dominant and will proceed in kind. When she is in predatory mode, she is a killer and will not take prisoners unless forcibly removed from her 'prey.'​


~SKILLS

Survival, Hunting, Tracking, Trapper, Furrier, Bowyer/Fletcher, Weather Sense, Direction Sense, Hiding, Climbing, Fighting, Killing, Sign/Click Language, Basic First Aid, Dancing.​


~PERSONAL HISTORY

Remember the family of three who was out hunting one day and only the mother returned? Remember the father was butchered and the daughter was dragged away by a beast? Remember the mother died because she ate a lethal dose of a terrible concoction of medicinal ingredients 'by accident?' Remember all the scary stories made to warn all Tribe members to never go of alone or astray?

Now then. Remember how you felt when you saw her step out from beyond the trees and back into your lives?

She was tall back then, but even taller now. And huge. By the Apple Tree, was she ever immense. And intimidating. Even with all the changes to her body: tattoos, scars, muscles and gear, you knew it was her. There was way too much wildness in her eyes, but you knew them. You would know those piercing blue eyes anywhere. It was her. No doubt about it. Her name was Lareine but you knew her by something else.

She was Rain to you.

And Rain had come back. Rain was home.

But she could not speak, no, the marks upon her throat showed as much. She was as silent as the dead, but somehow even more vibrant than the living. She understood you, but you could only misunderstand her. She spoke with a strange manner of clicks, taps and hand signals. And for a good period of time, miscommunication often lead her to wander in and out of the Tribal home. Seeds of the Fruit she was but she was now one that fell far and away from the Tree.

Even the tale of her mother's demise did not move her. No, she would merely shrug and click, tap and signal in her strange language. In time, the Tribe would understand that she would say of her mother's death; ~I am my own. Mother is the forest that ate me.~ She accepted her Roots, yes, but what she had grown into was made by more than one single Apple Tree. In fact, she had made up her mind that was going to leave them. Until that one day.

Large congregations had scared her and so she fled whenever they tried to celebrate her return. They tried to welcome her as a whole, but the more that welcomed her the more she shied away. That was until she heard their music. It was made in solitary; perhaps the other female was merely practicing on her own. But once she heard it, her mind began to change. And one day she danced for the musical performer. Just the two of them in their own little impromptu setting. Rain had danced the complex form of the Rites of Passage to Womanhood. After over 15 years, she still remembered it and performed it flawlessly.

That night, the wild woman had snuck into the beddings of the musician and when the musician woman woke, she awoke to two surprises. One was the immense body of Rain lay sprawled out on her, barely allowing her to breathe. The other was that of a gigantic 800 pound striped and maned cat snoring loudly yet comfortable against her suffocating body. The dance had changed Lareine's mind and she had decided to introduce her 'little brother' to the Tribe in final acceptance of them.

This 'little brother' she introduced with two loud clicks and a sharply ascending whistle. The Tribe soon acclimatized his name to merely "Click" out loud. Being used to human company, he tolerated them and took to being fed by them, but he was still rather wild like his 'big sister' and kept them at an arm's distance. But still the tribe could not help but remark at this great silver, black and white, maned beast's intelligence.

Within his four golden eyes, one could see that there was a lot going on in that predator brain of his. Click seemed to answer with taps and grumbles of his own to Rain. Not only was he a mutated great cat, but a mute one as well. Just like his big sister.

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Over time, Rain began to accept and trust but only 4 others in the Tribe and as a trickle down effect, so too did Click. They would come to know that his personality was eerily similar to Lareine's personality and temperment too. But he was subordinate to her even though some suspected that it was Click that stole away the then thirteen year old Rain and killed Rain's father. And he would accept the food given to him readily, but like Rain, the penchant and urge to hunt was just too great and so the pair would go off and do what they did best.

And the pair has learned much from the Tribe and vice versa, yet it was quite apparent that she, however, puts very little stock in worshiping the Apple Tree like the others. The other people who tried to take her in those years back-- the ones that tattooed her body-- they too took to belief in such idolatry and just look at how she had to end many of their lives. No, she would never bow down low, let alone kneel for such a thing. They of the Tribe were told that a beast stole her away from the Tribe.

No, the beast that had stole her away was one and the same that worshiped this pitiful Apple Tree too. And he was killed for it. And no one would ever know that her father's death was a blessing to her. For it was he that had broken his daughter and her ability to speak. Damn him, damn the Tribe, damn the Tree.

But even within the rotted Fruit, there is a Seed of Hope. And every passing day she spends accompanied by her little brother and the Tribe, that Seed grows within Rain.​
 
"Markie" of the Rebels.
~Markina Del Rio the Mech~


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| F | 24 years | 5'5" | 135 | Indigo Hair | Black Eyes |

  • Toned build of someone who is constantly working with heavy machinery and constantly on their feet.
  • Natural hair is deep chestnut, eyes are brown but appear to be black (Spanish eyes). Light brown Latina skin.
  • Tattoos on arms, chest and face. Scars all over body from minor injuries working with machines. Grease or grime on her face and hands.
  • Has several types of overalls, coveralls, and fire-retardant suits all painted up or with patches stitched to them. Just wears underwear beneath.
  • Has either a cigarette between her lips or behind an ear. Always carries a bandanna or rag in one back pocket, a pistol in the other.
~PERSONALITY

Welcoming and Talkative.
The girl loves company and is always making others feel at home in her cluttered part of the hideout. She is a hand talker and will become too comfy with others and so she will constantly touch a hand or shoulder, sometimes smack it, or invade personal space while talking. She will ramble on about anything and everything but sometimes she fails to use that internal filter and may end up offending others with her plain, open views. This new found emotional state is the best thing ever to her and she will always be the first to remind people to be thankful to be free of the societal chains caused by the Stum in Besielis. She will fight for this future, but is loathe to kill for it.
Scatterbrained yet Hardworking.
For the most part, Markie loves to keep busy and keep working, but she tends to bury herself under the weight of her undertakings. She had 50 things going at once and does a poor job organizing and planning. She has notes, tools, food, half-smoked cigarettes and underwear scattered across her work station. There seems to be a bit of organized chaos to her methods of madness but in actuality, it is her perseverance and dogged determination that seems to allow her to finish off her projects regardless of how much she bites off more than she can chew. This often leads to sloppy and precariously held together finished products, but hey! At least they work!
Clever but Short-sighted.
And then there are those times that she just out does herself. Yet again. She is known for those times she jury-rigs something or slaps things together held by duct tape but most Rebels trust her work because of those other times when her creations are just invented and executed by pure genius and skill. Markie has incredible ways of thinking and then remarkably transposing those ideas into reality. Her process of building is not merely just from start to finish but also laterally. Upsidedown too! Then again, sometimes the things she creates, she does not realize may be just as detrimental, or even deadly, as they are impressive and clever.​


~SKILLS

Mechanic, Machinery/Fabrication, Welding, Engineering, Drawing, Brain-storming, Teamwork, Basic First Aid, Firearms.​

~PERSONAL HISTORY

The Future is Hope. The Future is Us. The Future is Now.

Those words she still holds on to and truly believes in up until this day. But the future in not possible without sacrifice. And it is all those sacrifices that she has to believe are worth it to keep going forward with this Future.

She was just a girl. A bright one at that too, wasn't she? Yes, of course she was because she was a child of the prestigious Del Rio family. They only raised the best Engineers, Physicists and Doctors, no doubt. And this little Del Rio was well on her way to follow in her mother's steps as an Engineer. She would be set to be another great, no doubt.

But that was not to be.

No, she would lose it all. And all by accident. Or was it Fate? At any rate, she wanted to be one of the great Del Rio's in a long line of great Del Rio's. You see, for in her past life, she was well-groomed, well-cared for, and well-adjusted. And she was going to graduate at top her class in university; her parents had paid out the nose to ensure it. Back then it was always 'Ms. Del Rio. No one knew her as "Markie," for you see, a pet name could only incite an emotional response and we just could not have that now could we?

But someone did call her that insipid name and it all unraveled like the taut hair bun high on her head. Unraveled, chopped unceremoniously, and dyed an unnatural and demonic shade of almost blue, just like her hair today. How could such a simple term of endearment derail the destiny of a Del Rio? Simple. This other girl that called her "Markie" was cute and stirred something forbidden inside Ms. Del Rio.

And not only was this feeling forbidden, but the substance inside the hypodermic was truly forbidden too. Soon after she was called Markie, the woman was then given a shot of Hope. And what a revelation it was.

It was so hard to hide this new found self. She truly felt like a new person! Wait, no, she was a new person; she was Markie now not Ms. Del Rio of the long line of great Del Rio's. Oh, how she would do anything to keep it. This was the Future she never knew she deserved! She would up hold it no matter what the cost!

So she ended up paying it. She paid it in full.

The cute girl had revealed to her the notion of Wally and the soon-to-be Rebels of the Future. And even though the cute girl opened her eyes to this Future, this cute girl could not find it in her to leave; there was no way she could leave it all behind. But Markie could.

She could leave the cute girl behind. She could leave her fortune behind. She could leave her prestige behind. Markie could even leave her family behind.

It was all about the Future and the sacrifices required to attain it and keep it. She would abandon her past and launch herself into the unknown to find the Rebels.

"The Future is Hope. The Future is Us. The Future is Now," she had solemnly repeated the words spoken by the cute girl the day she injected Markie with the serum. A caramel brown hand stroked a porcelain white cheek and one more kiss she just could not help but steal from the cute girl, "I thank you, and I will never forget you... aaaaaaand just so you know, I am soooooo coming back for you. Just you wait and see. You will remember what it is like to feel and be free. Everyone in Besielis is gunna know. No doubt."
 
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