[/table]
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#5
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/ this kid has no idea how to valentine he's just complimenting everyone
1, nobody + transition to stevie. 2, stevie. 3, rudolph. the last three are marauder oops

Like he'd said — or thought, rather — Perseus didn't know anything about romance. He didn't understand that people could be more than friends, though that didn't make a whole lot of sense. It was just sort of... Well maybe it was because he didn't get to see his parents be affectionate a whole lot. They were mostly okay, when they weren't doing weird things that he couldn't understand, but sometimes they would get mad for something that he didn't even notice. It made him feel like he shouldn't try to do anything anymore. That was getting better with Marauder, but basically he just didn't have any idea what was going on anywhere. With anything. He doesn't understand why people wait either, but it's not like Perseus waits. He would tell everyone he loved them all the time, this just meant that he got to go over the top with it. Warm brown eyes scrutinize Stevie's sneakers when she approaches, though the boy's head tips up to look at her before she sits down. He knows her. She's nice, and he likes her cat.

It takes a moment to rifle through the cards for the one he'd made for her, marked by a quick doodle of her face (sort of — it makes sense to him, and that's all that matters). "Thanks," the boy answers, unable to hide the pleased lift of his voice. Still, he pushes it towards with a quickness that speaks to some vague embarrassment. It's strange, since Perseus isn't usually nervous, but this is weird. It's kinda personal. Written on a pink heart with a hand-drawn red border, in messy, uneven, almost illegible writing of a five year old, is a small, short phrase. You're really nice and I hope you feel better. (To be entirely honest, he has capital letters strewn throughout even though they've been working on that, Marauder and him. And he missed one of the "l"s in really, and "hope" was rather tragically misspelled, but that was okay. It was the thought that counted, right?) "Can I pet your cat?" The question is spoken with the pure innocence of a child, eyes wide and baby-round cheeks almost slack with the hopeful look on his face.

Before he gets her answer, there's someone else standing in front of him, and Perseus finds himself captivated by the way that he uses his hands when he talks. He doesn't know what it means, but he's talking kinda slowly. That's good, though. Does that mean that his hands actually mean something? Percy can't do that. Can other adults do that? Do they just learn over time? Or is he just special? Or does it not mean anything? He's learned over time that some people don't like hearing all of those questions right away, so he keeps himself quiet for now, though there's something about his expression that just screams curious. He doesn't know much about Rudolph, not even his name, but the boy has already developed some habit of watching people who stood out in some way. This card is marked with a small drawing of a hand. This one he stands up for, offering the white heart to him with a smile. "Hadrian's mom helped me," he admits, though the writing and decoration are both clearly his own. This one reads I think the way you talk is really cool. Again, really is misspelled and "k" is capitalized all the way through, but again — the thought.

To be honest, he had put a lot more into Marauder's card, made special with glitter and other extra decorations. It was hard to explain why he cared so much for the weird adult who'd saved him. It wasn't just because he was the one who kept him safe. Maybe part of him picks up on the fact that he's never really had many other people on his side. It doesn't take a genius to see that he's lonely, but sometimes Perseus thinks that people just don't pay attention to it. He's a little bit mean but if you're nice to him then he'll be at least a little bit nice to you, eventually. It was strange to find someone who cared for other people the way he did. It was an aloof sort of love, for the most part. He was kinda like some big bad guard dog that didn't let anyone pet him except the babies who didn't know any better. He wonders if it's just because he's used to being bit first. People weren't nice to him, so he wasn't nice to people. So this was a start, even if his guardian is rather pointedly ignoring the other people here. Maybe one day he'll ask someone to talk to him. For now, Percy almost just sticks his tongue out at him. He kinda wants to claim responsibility for the scissors just because he's making that face. "Nobody," he instead promises, sounding rather sullen (a mostly sure marker of honestly for someone usually so bright). "I asked."

The boy's expression brightens in an instant, malleable to a fault, and he gently pushes the cards around until the one he'd made for him is the only one left. The innocence in his eyes seems to sparkle, and even if the world isn't the greatest place, it has yet to truly damage him. He's still cotton-soft and as clean as a (well-groomed) sheep, and no matter what he thinks of himself, that's definitely due to his dedicated shepherd. Except Percy isn't much of a sheep, to be honest. Marauder probably feels like he's trying to get a cat to go the way he wants. The world is his to run, in a child's eyes. Why take the beaten path? Eventually he'll learn that well-worn generally means safe, but some part of him will always think that it's a little bit stupid too. So here he is, being his usually unwittingly strange self. "Happy Valentine's Day." The card he sticks out is a little bigger than the others so he could accommodate more writing, a bright red that means he had to write with a dark-colored pencil instead. (Charcoal, but he doesn't know that.) Some of the words were a touch smeared, but for the most part it's intact, with a slightly uneven red and pink glitter bored and a little doodle of the two of them at the bottom. (Doodle-Perseus is saying thank you, though writing small as a five year old tended to lead to something very close to illegibility.)

And in as neatly as he can manage, he had written a small paragraph. Thank you for being there when my mom and dad aren't weren't and teaching me to do cool things and keeping the monsters away. (Rambling, lacking punctuation, every k still capitalized, and his messed up word was turned into a tornado scribble — but it's sweet.) You're my favorite parent ever and I love you a lot.
[div style="width: 517px; font-size: 10pt; text-align: justify; line-height: 1.1"][spoiler=LONELINESS IS OVER; DARKNESS IS THROUGH | 02/10/2017]‣ Perseus / Perc [Perce] or Percy / Cis? Trans? Male / He/Him Pronouns
‣ Child of Flintlock Lodge / ½ Mars [FAMTP] Goes where Marauder goes.
  ‣ Even if he's not technically allowed, he will follow him or whine sadly.
‣ Birthday and Accurate Age Unknown / Developmentally Five Years Old

‣ Remarkably developed speech and vocabulary, as well as social skills.
‣ Reacts badly to the idea of being abandoned or left behind. Dependent.
‣ Carries around a worn stuffed elephant, often talks to it when he's sad.

‣ A tiny, young child. Less than 40" tall, and pretty skinny for his age. Short, dark brown hair and warm brown eyes. Generally pale and looks pretty exhausted for a five year old, with a smattering of freckles across his face. While he'll grow to hate those later, for now the boy is relatively content with his body, as he doesn't know how to hate anything about himself. He can always be found in jeans, ratty sneakers, and a slightly oversized sunshine yellow hoodie. It has pale blue trim around the hood, as well as a blue rabbit on his left shoulder and his name down the same sleeve. Usually has a bunch of unfinished friendship bracelets in his pockets or loosely tied around his wrists.

‣ Basically a huge fucking sweetheart. Gentle and naive and mostly trustworthy. He likes everyone he meets but seems to have a preference for people who act like Marauder. In other words, grumpy assholes. He keeps talking to people no matter how they react, and has a tendency to ask questions no matter what. Inquisitive, curious, and kind. Listens to Marauder first no matter what. Is slowly learning that the world is not a very great place but still wants to see the best in anyone around him. Mostly he's just sweet and gentle. Very forgiving. Still, he wants to be as tough as he can be and won't admit that he's scared. Relatively demanding and needy, and somehow cute about it. It's not all sunshine and daisies, though. He's incredibly impressionable, very proud, and can be very stubborn and argumentative.


[align=center]
let me be your [abbr=info here]everlasting light[/abbr]
( the sun when there is none )
Reply
#6
   

                  Johannes Angelicus
test


Johannes was reading--he allowed himself to take some breaks, though not many--and this was the warmest common room. He didn't like shutting himself into his bedroom, in case something happened, and in any case--he was a bit claustrophobic. He preferred it out here, where there were people, although, he didn't like the people themselves.

That was a bit harsh. But he could have done without them. Still, no one was making too much of a racket until one kid started to give..Valentines? To others. Johannes had heard the term, and he was pretty sure it was an old celebration, but to be honest, he never cared for old traditions except one--and it definitely wasn't Valentine's Day.

He peeked over the top of his book, though, out of curiosity. The kid was tiny and he didn't know his name, and he hadn't even spoken to him--kids made Johannes nervous. They were strange, and though it wasn't in a threatening way, it still made him antsy. He was curious, though--and a little interested in what he was doing.

It took him a few minutes to get up the courage, but eventually he'd meandered close by, trying to get a look at the cards by the child without drawing attention to himself. They were artistically done. Nice.






[align=center][div style="background=transparent; borderwidth=0px; bordercolor=; width: 350px; font-size: 8pt; font-family:arial; text-transform:lowercase; text-align:justify"]text

[spoiler=info — updated 1/25/17]
[size=8pt]GENERAL:
★ JOHANNES ANGELICUS | JO| amab male
★ ace| aro
★ 28| dec/3 | real time
★ flintlock lodge | dictator

IMPORTANT FACTS:
★ has ASPD
★ has severe issues with self-control and anger


PHYSICAL:
★ human [10.15/main] | health: 100%
— 5'10'' & 170 lbs;
— [i]major injuries: none

PERSONALITY:
-wip wop


RELATIONSHIPS:
★ single
★ npc x npc| generation 1
★ No Romantic Interest
★ No Sexual Interest

INTERACTION:
★ stony and antisocial, will be courteous, often awkward
★ difficulty: 8/10 in battle | + strength,  stamina | - speed, agility
★ he won't hesitate to make the first move, and sometimes he can be recklessly angry
★ attack in bold #2E5C6B
★ can powerplay nonviolent actions
★ all IC opinions
[/spoiler]


Reply
#7
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He wasn't an easy person to care for. He called himself Marauder, of all things, and even as a child had a penchant for leaving soot behind on everything he touched. It was worse now- the fires tended to keep burning when he turned away, so he wasn't surprised when disappointment followed him. Not before, and not today, either, although today there was really only one person Marauder believed he could disappoint, and as far as he knew, it hadn't happened. Yet, anyway. It would happen one day; maybe it would be tomorrow, maybe a week from now, a month, a year- it would happen. He was who he was because he fucked up, and because he failed people, and because people failed him. The latter he doubted Percy could do, however; of them both, the kid was the one who pulled him back from the ledge every time Marauder so much as considered it, the ledge over which he'd disappear and never return from as the same person. He supposed all of that was the reason he was so reluctant to make friends, to know people; he hadn't had much of a choice with Percy -not that he'd have done it differently- but with everyone else, it was falling into a pit he could have avoided, a pit with vipers to snap their venom and massive rocks to be dashed against. Marauder could be called a coward for it. People could say he was afraid of attachment, and they wouldn't be wrong, but they wouldn't know why. It was less that he lost people and more that they left him, and he didn't blame them for any of it as angry as it made him. That anger wasn't for them, not really, even if he could subject them to it if he wanted to. At the end of the day, there was only one person he truly hated.

That same person didn't know what he did to earn this child of the sun's care or his devotion. There was too much of it to be offered in return for doing what anyone should have done, and too much of it to keep Marauder from hoping again. It was a fluttery little thing in his belly, entering a frenzy whenever the kid chose to come back to him, chose to stay with him, chose to curl up close even when there were high chances that Marauder would wake him up shouting. He didn't know what he did to deserve him because he couldn't believe that the answer was nothing at all. Who he was- again, he wasn't someone people loved. There were good reasons for that but somehow he forgot every single one of them, standing here with Percy staring up at him, answering a question Marauder couldn't recall asking, as if everything about this was fine. As if Marauder was someone to tell the truth to so freely. As if Marauder was...

Nope, don't even go there.

"Who'd you ask?" His tongue moved normally, like it hadn't just been glued to the roof his mouth, and his voice was smooth, lacking the cracks he'd expected. It was some kind of fucking miracle, and he bit his cheek hard enough to draw blood, watching the light return to his expression and his small hands shuffle through the spread of Valentine's cards on the floor. He'd made quite a few, probably out of kindness and a reluctance to let anyone feel excluded from the crowd, and something wound up tightly in his lungs, pressing against sore ribs, before it abruptly released and in its place was an epiphany. I love him. It wasn't new, not exactly, and he was willing to die for him a long time ago, but this was nothing like that. Marauder wanted to live for him instead, and he wanted to hide from that realization, curl away, except there was a card held by tiny fingers in his direction, a glittering bright red, and he wasn't going anywhere. He swallowed, gaze trailing down the cover, down to the picture of them both, the smaller figure speaking to the larger figure. Marauder couldn't fully read what was written, but then again, everything Percy said was largely welcomed by him. Did that make him seem lonely?

With hands deceptively steady, he thumbed the card open. In Percy's sprawling penmanship, messy in several different ways, Marauder found his ruining. Not- not in the awful way. Maybe it sounded odd to say he could be destroyed in a manner that wasn't terrible, but nonetheless it had his knees weakening, the collapse veiled by a willful kneeling, and trembling arms hidden by wrapping around a bony frame. His heaving chest was concealed by the figure pressed there, and his quickened breaths silenced in wild brown hair. You're my favorite parent ever and I love you a lot. "Thank you." It was so quiet even he doubted he said it, and it was hoarse enough to make him wince at the rawness of it, but Percy was his kid and everything else didn't matter.
[spoiler=info (2/14)]GENERAL
-Marauder | Real name: Francis Maddox (never revealed) | 22 years old | Flintlock Lodge
-Pansexual | Single; is not interested in mingling | ½ Mars (famtp w/ Perseus)
-Currently heavily bruised and in a roughed up state; ribs are bruised, eyebrows busted

PHYSICALITY
-Hair is styled in an undercut, dyed black; originally ginger | Roots are beginning to show
-Faint freckles line his cheekbones and splash across his nose; not incredibly noticeable
-Very broad-shouldered and well-built | Heavily scarred; lashes on back are most prominent
-Dark, deep blue eyes | Wears a worn leather jacket that has been mended several times
-May switch leather out for a red hoodie | Wears a red, black, and white friendship bracelet
-Strapped with a variety of knives (Karambit, BW-ACK, M-9 Bayonet[one on each leg])
-Stands at around 6'1 | Will use his height to his advantage if possible for intimidation

PERSONALITY
-Will do anything for Perseus; is generally a pushover and incredibly gentle with him
-Kind of a dick ("kind of") | Has an aggressive temperament and a hair-trigger temper
-Viciously loyal to those he cares for | Typically difficult to befriend due to standoffishness
-Highly self-loathing and prone to self-sabotage | Experiences every emotion very deeply
-Dealing with possible abandonment issues | Always toeing the line between right and wrong


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DARKNESS INTO LIGHT | OPEN & VALENTINES CARDS
#1
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/ tbh the last paragraph is the only important one

Perseus was starting to think that he either had really really good luck or really really bad luck. Sometimes it was a little bit of both, but most of the time it went one way or the other. Bad luck was almost dying, good luck was getting picked up by Marauder. Bad luck was being cold, good luck was figuring out that it was warm too. Really really bad luck was Marauder coming back looking like he was gonna die, and the really good news was realizing that he would be okay. His luck was mostly just okay now, and that's... Okay. Duh. That doesn't mean he can't have good days and bad days, they just sorta evened out into this nice little wave that Perc found more comfortable than boring. A fun life was a fun life, but five year olds didn't need to be worrying about taxes or, you know, dying. That was definitely not a five year old thought.

So the boy had spent the last few days worrying about things that children tended to worry about. He made up stories about things that didn't exist and took naps with the dog. And whenever Marauder was busy doing something else, Perseus had been working on valentines. He was a few days late now, and to be honest he was too young to understand the subtleties of the holiday. Romance was a foreign concept to a child, except maybe that it involved a lot of weird kissing. Otherwise, they just looked like really good friends, right? And because he's a kid, everyone is Perc's friend.

A small, curly-haired little kid, bright yellow hoodie adding a splash of color to Flintlock's quiet evening, is sitting in one of the common rooms with a pile of hearts in front of him. They're all shades of pretty colors, and they're neatly cut out because he asked that nice lady with bright hair to help. The writing isn't quite as neat, but Perseus had insisted on doing it himself. Scribbled in messy red handwriting are various encouraging phrases and kind words. A few people get special notes because he thinks they need to hear something special. There are two that are extra special, though — one is a stuffed animal sitting on top of a pink heart, and the other is hiding under the other hearts because he doesn't want to ruin the surprise. Idly tapping his heels against the floor where he sits, bright, curious eyes glance around at the people walking by, and then he clears his throat. "I have valentines cards for you guys," he announces without preamble, voice its typical steady, clear call. "If you want one."
[div style="width: 517px; font-size: 10pt; text-align: justify; line-height: 1.1"][spoiler=LONELINESS IS OVER; DARKNESS IS THROUGH | 02/10/2017]‣ Perseus / Perc [Perce] or Percy / Cis? Trans? Male / He/Him Pronouns
‣ Child of Flintlock Lodge / ½ Mars [FAMTP] Goes where Marauder goes.
  ‣ Even if he's not technically allowed, he will follow him or whine sadly.
‣ Birthday and Accurate Age Unknown / Developmentally Five Years Old

‣ Remarkably developed speech and vocabulary, as well as social skills.
‣ Reacts badly to the idea of being abandoned or left behind. Dependent.
‣ Carries around a worn stuffed elephant, often talks to it when he's sad.

‣ A tiny, young child. Less than 40" tall, and pretty skinny for his age. Short, dark brown hair and warm brown eyes. Generally pale and looks pretty exhausted for a five year old, with a smattering of freckles across his face. While he'll grow to hate those later, for now the boy is relatively content with his body, as he doesn't know how to hate anything about himself. He can always be found in jeans, ratty sneakers, and a slightly oversized sunshine yellow hoodie. It has pale blue trim around the hood, as well as a blue rabbit on his left shoulder and his name down the same sleeve. Usually has a bunch of unfinished friendship bracelets in his pockets or loosely tied around his wrists.

‣ Basically a huge fucking sweetheart. Gentle and naive and mostly trustworthy. He likes everyone he meets but seems to have a preference for people who act like Marauder. In other words, grumpy assholes. He keeps talking to people no matter how they react, and has a tendency to ask questions no matter what. Inquisitive, curious, and kind. Listens to Marauder first no matter what. Is slowly learning that the world is not a very great place but still wants to see the best in anyone around him. Mostly he's just sweet and gentle. Very forgiving. Still, he wants to be as tough as he can be and won't admit that he's scared. Relatively demanding and needy, and somehow cute about it. It's not all sunshine and daisies, though. He's incredibly impressionable, very proud, and can be very stubborn and argumentative.


[align=center]
let me be your [abbr=info here]everlasting light[/abbr]
( the sun when there is none )
Reply
#2
/ r e tr o? ? ??  to camvie resolution + bye muse

Holidays have never been a big part of Stevie's life. They're fun, sometimes, when it means shoving two friends with a metric fuckton of romantic tension under some mistletoe and cackling softly at your good work in match-making. And everyone likes gifts. But she could never get into the spirit of things. Why wait for a special occasion when you could make right here and right now a moment to remember? This is a fast-paced life. You can't wait for the right moment. You make it, or risk never seeing that moment happen. (It wasn't always like this. Kwanzaa with family Jones— that was a week to look forward to. But she left. Life goes on.)

This, though? This is cute. She's got a soft spot for kids she can't deny, much as she'd like to. Sneakers edging closer, she blinks thoughtfully down at Perseus. "Sure." She plops down on the floor, criss-crossing her legs. "They look good, by the way. Nice job, kid."

[spoiler=information — 2017/02/16]— 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 barbara jones | "stevie, steve" | vastly prefers stevie
— female | she/her | intersex dmab | usually presents as masc
— biromantic bisexual | questioning aro/ace | female preference
— about 21 years old | d.o.b.: july 4th | ages every three months
— 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 + pets
— carmilla; black norwegian forest cat with yellow eyes; ref.
— 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 skills 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]
Reply
#3
[align=center]
RUDOLF MARONEY
[align=left][justify][size=8pt]rudolf had always loved children. If the world was a different place than what it was, he probably would have become a father. But he wasn't sure if that was really plausible in such a harsh environment. So instead, he'd simply have to watch the children and imagine a better, more stable life. Which is what he was doing now, he supposed. They were all in the great room, and various children played in their own little areas. He thought about joining them in their little games, but knew how hard it was for them to understand him, and didn't really want to interfere anyways.

One little boy, who's name started with a p rudolf knew for sure, was sitting in the middle of the floor, surrounded by valentines. He was handing them out as people walked up, and rudolf decided he wanted to interact with the young child as well. So he stood from his spot near the wall and approached the boy, smiling. "They look good!" he signed and smiled as he spoke, pointing to the valentines on the ground. "you make them yourself?" he made sure to speak and sign slow enough that the boy would understand him.

[div style="bgcolor=; border: none; width: 385px; margin-top: -5px;"][spoiler=updated 2/15]
[size=8pt]GENERAL:
★ rudolf joseph maroney
★ heterosexual | male
★ 29 | june 8
★ member of flintlock lodge
★ open for plots

RECENT EVENTS:
★ to be added

IMPORTANT FACTS:
★ deaf | uses asl, reads lips, can speak aloud
★ deaf accent found here


PHYSICAL:
★ human | health: 100%
— fc. of Ryan Lane
— wip bio
— major injuries: none as of now
— minor injuries: none as of now

PERSONALITY:
— friendly, honest, genuine, humble, brave, intelligent, protective
— temperamental, emotional, dependent, blunt

INTERACTION:
★ he's really nice and always tries to help out
★ peaceful unless agitated
★ average in battle |  muscular but inexperienced
★ medium physically and medium mentally
★ open for family/adopted family + relationships
★ attack in BOLD GRAY
★asl in [b]bold italics
, asl and voice in bold
★ can powerplay peaceful or nonviolent actions.
★ looking for an adoptive family, translator, and friends
[/spoiler]
Reply
#4
[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width:500px;font-size:12px"]
Marauder could only say that he had a semblance of good luck when he met Perseus. Before that, his life was an amalgamation of close calls and bruises and unbridled anger, and depending on the day, the close calls were bad luck only because he didn't stay down. That dissipated, though; he couldn't say it was time's doing, the way some people did who liked to think that time could heal anything. No- he attributed most of the lighter moments of his life to those spent with Perseus, and occasionally the odd childhood memory of himself before he realized the farthest he could go was six feet under. He knew it sounded dependent, and more than a little ridiculous, but that would be underestimating what a single person could do, what Percy could do. Marauder wondered how many people could say they made a friend of the unfriendly asshole; of that number, even less could say that the same person was a frequent piggy-back ride and pillow. His younger self, the one in his middle teens, would have scoffed at the idea that he would bother with anyone for that long. Younger Marauder was wrong. Younger Marauder didn't believe that he could love someone else, and it wasn't time that changed it; that was Perseus. If he hadn't met him on the street that day, it wouldn't have mattered if it was a year or fifty that passed- he would be running in place as before, stuck in a rut that he refused to acknowledge as such.

Maybe he still refused to acknowledge it sometimes, like the way he refused to entertain that it was jealousy flaring up bright and sharp beside the other very physical pain in his chest. It was foolish to be so envious, though he supposed he was just...Well, he didn't trust anyone around what managed to make him happy -or who, in this case- but he couldn't really trust himself with Perseus either. He was a fucking mess and sooner or later Perc was going to cut himself on all the shards and rusted nails. Marauder shifted, purposely twisting in a way that caused the greatest discomfort in his ribs, and then he strolled over leisurely, gaze dismissing both the adults clustered around him, although he was keenly aware of the words they spoke to the kid- including the gestures made by the guy Marauder had seen around once or twice. "Who gave you scissors?"
[spoiler=info (2/14)]GENERAL
-Marauder | Real name: Francis Maddox (never revealed) | 22 years old | Flintlock Lodge
-Pansexual | Single; is not interested in mingling | ½ Mars (famtp w/ Perseus)
-Currently heavily bruised and in a roughed up state; ribs are bruised, eyebrows busted

PHYSICALITY
-Hair is styled in an undercut, dyed black; originally ginger | Roots are beginning to show
-Faint freckles line his cheekbones and splash across his nose; not incredibly noticeable
-Very broad-shouldered and well-built | Heavily scarred; lashes on back are most prominent
-Dark, deep blue eyes | Wears a worn leather jacket that has been mended several times
-May switch leather out for a red hoodie | Wears a red, black, and white friendship bracelet
-Strapped with a variety of knives (Karambit, BW-ACK, M-9 Bayonet[one on each leg])
-Stands at around 6'1 | Will use his height to his advantage if possible for intimidation

PERSONALITY
-Will do anything for Perseus; is generally a pushover and incredibly gentle with him
-Kind of a dick ("kind of") | Has an aggressive temperament and a hair-trigger temper
-Viciously loyal to those he cares for | Typically difficult to befriend due to standoffishness
-Highly self-loathing and prone to self-sabotage | Experiences every emotion very deeply
-Dealing with possible abandonment issues | Always toeing the line between right and wrong


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