A WORLD ALONE — OPEN

[recycling bin]

The sketchbook only has two full pages, lines light for easy erasing crowding against each other in an effort to make the most of a limited supply. Page three is half-empty, sketches of each of her closest companions dotting the left side (they're mostly Cam, and she is not avoiding looking at them, she's just focusing on something else). An uneven expanse of white sprawls the other half, a temptation to her waiting pencil. Brow furrowed, tongue sticking out the corner of her mouth, she carefully maps out the gangly frame of Titus, lying down with his back legs sprawled out behind him and Damian's stuffed bat trapped in his paws and jaws. Though, currently, it's all lines and circles, taking up a good amount of the remaining space.

It's an odd hobby to pick up in times like these. But everyone needs a distraction, and this just happens to be hers. In another life, she would be seriously considering this as a profession. Pinning down moments on paper, seeing them come to life by her own hand— something about it's just magical. And she enjoys it, which is, to her, a non-negotiable requirement. In another life, maybe. Not this one. Dreams don't come true in this life, unless you're the type to enjoy post-apocalyptic lifestyles (in which case, why the actual fuck).

Stevie tucks her pencil behind her ear, stretching her hand out. The wall she's leaning against is hardly comfortable, and her ass is aching from sitting on the floor. But hey, there's nobody here in this part of the lodge, and peace and quiet sounds very nice at the moment. Staring at the unfinished drawing before her, she deems it worthy enough to stay un-erased for another day. Her hand needs a break, though. It should be good in a few minutes, which gives plenty of time for someone to walk by and start a conversation (nudge nudge, wink wink, was that obvious enough or too much).

---

[spoiler=information — 2017/01/31]— pm main account to plot.
— all opinions + choices ic.

recent news
— had a fight with camael about the latter's drug usage.
— escaped the badlands and returned to flintlock lodge.
— losing security in her moral compass; aimless, subdued.

general
— stevonna jones | "stevie" | will fight if you call her "stevonna"
— female | she/her | intersex dmab | usually presents as masc
— biromantic bisexual | questioning aro/ace | female preference
— about 21 years old | date of birth: july 4th | ages whenever
— member of flintlock lodge | former member of the badlands

important notes
— she's a stubborn asshole who will fight™ i apologize for her.
— doesn't make friends easily; a little standoffish. again, sorry.

physical
— health: 70%-80% | malnourished, undernourished, exhausted
— face-claim: shalita grant | voice-claim: anika noni rose [tiana]
— short, chubby, and somewhat toned. about 5'1 [1.55 meters].
— rich dark brown skin with warm undertones. dark brown eyes.
— thick curly black hair; currently in dreadlocks mid-back length.
— all curves. wide nose, plush lips, soft jawline, round cheeks.
— nondescript scars from minor injuries, mostly on knuckles.
— likes snapback caps, sneakers, sweatshirts, and sweatpants.
— injuries: a few bruises and scrapes, but nothing major.

mental
— good is not nice | good is not soft | jerk with a heart of gold
— health: 70%-80% | paranoid, sleep-deprived, and struggling
— gryffindor primary/gryffindor secondary | chaotic good | infp-t
— principled; lives by her moral code, keeps it close to her heart.
— proud, unyielding. doesn't know how to forgive or to apologize.
— blunt, straightforward. scornful/wary of deceit and manipulation.
— sticks close to her people; rarely goes out of her way to befriend.
— values her independence and [usually] aggressively defends it.
— averse to asking for help. grudgingly accepts it from close friends.
— quick to judge, somewhat aloof. doesn't play well with others.
— surprisingly introverted; needs time and space alone to recharge.
— scrappy little shit. will fight you, will fight your dog, will fight herself.
— reckless daredevil except when the safety of others is involved.

possessions
— sturdy wooden baseball bat; this is her primary weapon.
— rough leather gloves; provides easy, but still flexible grip.
— a rainbow-patterned backpack that looks close to death.
— all clothes are faded and worn; some are slightly damaged.
— two t-shirts: one a plain sky-blue; the other is this thing.
— two plain sweatshirts: one in light grey, the other in black.
— two pairs of plain white underclothes [sports bra/boyleg].
— oversized black down jacket with a light faux fur hood.
— two pairs of dark denim pants. one pair of tan sweatpants.
— sensible dark brown hiking boots. well-used blue sneakers.
— 4 hairbands, 6 scrunches, 2 snapbacks, 3 pairs of socks.

relationships
— single | crushing on camael and megaera | no "maybe" crushes
— ½ of camvie [br?otp; camael + stevie] | batfam's cool auntfriend
— npc x npc | generation 1 | only child | your reckless pseudo-mom

interaction
— physically medium | mentally easy | self-trained
— sloppy, but tough | aims for head, torso, and neck
— may start fights | will finish fights | will show mercy
— won't torture/sexually assault | may [rarely] maim/kill
— no medical skill whatsoever; useless in that respect.
— nonviolent/peaceful actions can be powerplayed.
— • likely won't appreciate unfamiliar touch.
— unconditional contact allowed from the following:
— • bruce, camael, damian, dick, megaera.
— attack in BOLDED BLACK CAPITAL LETTERS.[/spoiler]

[BRUCE H]

[align=center]

To be honest, the world kind of sucks. Now Bruce isn't strictly a pessimist, at least when it comes to the natural state of things. He's someone who grew up with the idea that this was how humans were meant to be — then again, he'd been raised by other people who thought that for most of his life. They were soldiers and hunters and men of war. The ones that you didn't want to run into much of anywhere, and the ones who weren't at all afraid of blowing something to high heaven to get their way. Those people could never do anything wrong in little Bruce's point of view. He was small and angry and all he could think about was hurting the people who hurt him so badly, who left Jason without real parents at all. So yeah, they'd been perfect. He could do perfect pushups after barely a month with them, and ran with people older than him because they always looked pleased, and to be honest, younger Bruce had been a bit like an overeager puppy. All he wanted to do was make people proud of him. He ached for it. So he did what they did, thought what they thought, and accepted everything they shoved down his throat without question. It took a long time for him to realize that these things weren't entirely correct. The part about the world being better like this is still hanging around his mind for some reason. So you know what? Maybe Win is the type to enjoy post-apocalyptic lifestyles.

Still, there were some things that were missing from human beings like this. Art was severely limited. Nobody wrote books or poems when all that mattered was making it to see tomorrow. A few people drew, but drawing came before writing anyway. Art supplies aren't necessary so people don't bother with him. Paper is at least twenty years old now, paints are stale, pastels dried out. You could manage pretty well with chalk or fire, and wow, isn't that downright ancient? It's not like Bruce had ever learned how to draw anyway. He could sketch if he wanted to, but that was more of documenting what was in front of him right then. He prefers to memorize things anyway. It's not too hard. The softness of Damian's hair and the feeling that Meg should be wearing a halo. The sunshine taste of Dick's smile, the brightness of Stevie's eyes when she laughs, the mess of Cam's hair. Maybe one day he'll forget, but he doesn't think so. Even if he gets to the point that he wants to try. (He doesn't think he would ever want to.)

Win is still kind of upset with Stevie, in that "don't be me" sort of way, but that doesn't stop him from approaching when he sitting like that, because no, that's not comfortable. Usually when he ends up like that he's brooding, and she probably is. He gets it. So despite all those not so subtle cues for a conversation, he sits down across from here and doesn't say anything for a moment, just tilting his head to look at Titus from something closer to her view point. "Hh," he finally offers, in that typical meaningless noise that people are supposed to interpret. (Is he pleased? Pissed off? Does he not care? Nobody will ever know.) "This the sorta thing that dog gets up to?"

[div style="width: 517px; text-align: justify; line-height: 1.1"][spoiler=MY PAST HAS TASTED BITTER FOR YEARS NOW —-— INFORMATION; 02/04/2017]
GENERAL INFORMATION / BIOGRAPHY / NOTES PAGE / PINTEREST BOARD
‣ Bruce "Win" Holloway / Usually Introduced as "Win" / Dislikes Being Called Bruce
‣ Cisgender Male / Heavy Preference for He/Him Pronouns / Neutral Pronouns Allowed?
‣ Gray-Biromantic Bisexual / Monogamous and Possessive / [Very] Taken by Dick Holiday
‣ ½ Boysoldier [BROTP] / Father and ⅙ of the Batfam [Dick, Damian, Cam, Meg, Stevie]
‣ Adoptive Father of Damian / SORTA has a tendency to adopt every sad-looking child
‣ Mid-Twenties / Born February 19th / NPC x NPC; Deceased / Older Brother of Jason

PHYSICALITY & POSSESSIONS / PARTIAL / PARTIAL / PARTIAL / HEALTH: 90%
‣ Important Tropes | Death Glare, Disapproving Look, and Faces Death with Dignity
‣ 6'3 & 180-200 lbs. | Muscular, solid build, well-defined but not overwhelmingly so.
‣ Slightly wavy hair, between dark brown and soft black. Shorter on the sides; messy.
‣ Pale steel blue eyes. | Usually scowling or at least looking unhappy. Rarely smiles.
‣ Warm, formerly tanned skin, lightly freckled from sun exposure. Paler with the cold.
‣ Wears layers. An undershirt, usually an overshirt or hoodie, and a black field jacket.
  ‣ Black or white undershirts. Blue or red plaid or solid navy overshirts, navy hoodie.
‣ 9mm pistol; holster on left thigh. | A large, single-blade, semi-serrated pocketknife.

PERSONALITY / BROKEN ACE / FRIEND TO CHILDREN / 1 / 2 / 3 / HEALTH: 80%
‣ Slytherin Primary + Hufflepuff Secondary / Chaotic Neutral / INFJ-T / Weirdly Moral
‣ Abrasive and domineering, tends to dislike taking orders from anyone he doesn't trust.
‣ Disciplined, calm. Can sometimes seem blank or can hyperfocus on one thought/action.
‣ Oddly gentle, particularly with young kids who have been through some sort of trauma.
‣ Borderline playful with people that he actually likes; tends to smile only around them.
‣ Measured, collected, steady. Holds himself and those around him to high standards.
‣ Would die for a stranger, but particularly overprotective of his family and close friends.
‣ Can be incredibly charismatic when he needs to be. Typically can't hold a conversation.

[DICK HOLIDAY.]

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/tracking because i'm too sleepy to answer rn
[div style="text-align: justify; width:500px;font-size:11px"]
[spoiler=info (1/31)]GENERAL
-Richard "Dick" Holiday | 21 years old | Born October 25th | Flintlock Lodge
-Bisexual | Very much taken by Bruce Holloway | ½ Boysoldier (brotp to otp)

PHYSICALITY
-Stands at around 5'11 | Athletic build oriented around an acrobatic/aerial base (see next line)
-A bit thinner due to lack of proper nutrition, but musculature is still clearly defined and present
-Dark ebony hair that is always disheveled; currently a little shaggy and curling down over his ears
-Bright, vibrant blue eyes | Tends to wear baggier pants with tighter shirts when inside the building
-May occasionally wear Bruce's clothes (dark undershirts, lighter tops, or his hoodie that are all far too big)

PERSONALITY
-Stubborn and far from being a pushover | Polite, but will not take shit from people
-Typically friendly and outgoing; isn't difficult to get along with most of the time
-Prefers to see the brighter side of things, although he takes it all with a grain of salt
-Sets high standards for himself and strongly loathes the idea of failing/imperfection
-All in all, more of a lighter kind of person, except his extroversion acts as a concealer

[HAYSEED]

[align=center][div style="background=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: auto; font-size: 8.6pt; font-family:verdana; text-align:justify; line-height: 1.4; width: 500px"] sollux honestly didn't know why he kept the hobbies he did after the whole world going to shit thing. he protected his computer as if it held his soul, and even now he still slightly missed his bees. they weren't hobbies that could help in a time like this. who needed hacking skills when computers were extremely rare and ultimately useless? who needed honey from beekeepers? nobody, not now.

sollux was still kinda irritated at the fact that he was practically useless in this place. all he did was attract kids in the middle of the night, suffer headaches, and drink flat soda that wasn't even good. he couldn't even heal- and it was clear that he wasn't even capable to hunting or fighting. so when he didn't even have useful hobbies, it really made him think.

but of course, he pushed those thoughts aside to watch the one draw and the other talk to her.

"...you draw good." good god, sollux. be a better talker.


[spoiler=sometimes quiet is violent]GENERAL INFORMATION / BIOGRAPHY
& Solluxander Captor / 'Sollux' / 'Sol' / 'Bee'
& Undiscovered sexuality / Male preference / Still may be into females / FtM trans [he/him]
& Unknown age; adult [early twenties] / Unknown birthday / Undecided ageing ratio
& Seeker of Flintlock Lodge / Has computer skills

RELATIONSHIPS / ROMANCE NOTES / ½ ⅓ ¼ ⅕ ⅛
& Single / Not looking IC / Looking OOC [can plot for romance ideas] / no crushes.
& NPC x NPC [Ran away from parents / looking for siblings] / Generation one
& No apprentice / No mentor / Not looking for either
& No ships

APPEARANCE / REFERENCE 1 / REFERENCE 2 / STATUS / SICKLY [59%]
& Gangly and tall with little to no muscle.
& Has freckles all over his shoulders, face, knees and elbows. Is embarrassed about them.
& Fluffy black hair that is neatly combed. Has heterochromatic eyes [see ref 1]
& Usually dark circles under eyes due to constant migraines and insomnia.
& Owns a pair of horn-rimmed glasses that are red and yellow. Almost always wears them.
& Usually wears a black t-shirt that has a yellow Gemini symbol on it.
& Wears ripped jeans that are ripped at the ankles and knees.
& Wears one black shoe and one white shoe. Usually with ankle high socks.
& Occasionally wears a jacket. [see ref 2]
  — INJURIES/ILLNESSES:
& Has a very pronounced lisp.
& Has a shitty immune system; gets sick very easily.
& Has small scars that are around his eyes due to past events.
& Suffers from chronic migraines. Can throw up during these fits.


PERSONALITY / THEME 1 / THEME 2 / THEME 3
& Usually pretty laid back and chill; can be hot-tempered easily, however.
& Nihilistic, and can be blunt and pretty dark at points.
& Shit-talks to nearly everyone, and rarely shows affection to others unless they are extremely close.
& Sarcastic and grumpy; and rarely ever goes soft around one's he doesn't trust.
& Is prone to being selfless and pities others, despite his sarcastic and mean nature.
& Doesn't trust anyone unless they are extremely close.
& Stereotypical hacker of the group / Loves bees / Allergic to bees, ironically / Sad Dadâ„¢
  — DISORDERS:
& Has a small case of Bipolar.
& Knows/Hears whenever people die.
& Very depressive.

COMBAT & INTERACTION
& Easy physically | Extreme mentally | Hard-ish emotionally.
& Is quick and nimble on his feet when he needs to be.
& All nonviolent, friendly and/or peaceful actions can be powerplayed.
& To engage in combat, attack using bold black or bold underlined.[/spoiler]