Lights On • Partial Return, O

[dannychan]

[align=center][div style="width: 350px; text-align: justify; line-height: -1%; color: black; font-size: 8pt;"]its quickly became apparent that this guy lived here, but he felt that he knew this mans voice. as he sauntered after praxis, he would suck in a breath, the warm air warming him somehow- even his eternally cold hands. riley would sigh, adjusting his sunglasses. "hey man. have we met yet?" he asked casually.
[spoiler=KINDA HARD TO WATCH THIS LIFE GO BY  |  tags]NAME & NICKNAMES: riley jamison florra  |  riles
— PREVIOUS NAMES & NICKNAMES: no previous names
AGE, PLACE & DATE OF BIRTH: 24 Years Old, born 01/19/13 in chicago.
GENDER & PRONOUNS: Cisgender, he/him

CURRENT RANK & MEMBERSHIP: member of the northstar district
— PREVIOUS RANKS & MEMBERSHIPS: n/a

SEXUALITY & RELATIONSHIP STATUS: panromantic pansexual; assumed single
— POSSIBLE CRUSHES: n/a
PARENTS & GENERATION: NPC x NPC. Generation Z.
— [i]SIBLINGS & HALF-SIBLINGS: no siblings
FRIENDS & CLOSE FRIENDS: he's lonely

LENGTH & WEIGHT: 6'3" & 130lbs. | riley, being as tall as he is, is underweight. if he were to take off his clothes, you'd be able to see bones and such, but they wouldn't be poking out of him. it's not that he doesn't eat, he just has an extremely fast metabolism, and when he does eat, he hardly eats more than he absolutely has to.
— CLOTHES: riley's clothing often hands off his body, but it's not often you find clothes in this day and age. he wears a light blue long sleeved shirt and a scientists jacket he received from his father at the age of 5. he wears brown dress pants and black shows, and a pair of sunglasses to cover his eyes. he often carries around an umbrella, which helps him figure out were hills and corners are and such.

EYES AND APPEARANCE: riley is blind. you wouldn't know unless he took off his sunglasses, since he functions so well. he's lived his entire life without his sight, and while he'd love to see the world, he'd rather stay blind. if you are one of the few people who get to see his eyes, you would discover that they're an odd, milky blue, and are often narrowed in concentration. he navigated by touching the walls as he walks or in certain situations, he will throw pebbles in the direction he's going as a type of echolocation. moving on from eyes, riley is fairly pale, as he doesn't really tan, and spends a lot of time indoors. his hair is a big mass of brunette tangles that your hand could possibly get lost in if you weren't careful. as mentioned before, he's very skinny and incredibly tall, which applies for his face to. he has cheeks that cave in slightly, and a narrow jaw, but high and sharp cheekbones. a common comparison for him is an elf.

EQUIPMENT: keeps a knife in his back pocket, and his umbrella is often believed to be a weapon of some sorts (hidden blade in the handle)

PERSONALITY: riley is a completely uncaring husk of a human being. long story short, he's an asshole. to the few he cares for, he treats them much harsher than anyone else. he will say that they are expendable and easily replaced, when, in reality, he'd be lost without them. he drinks quite a bit to forget all of the mistakes he's made, and hates admitting when he's wrong. he had a very hard time getting along with others, and often spends his time just feeling things. despite his blindness, he loves to "draw", and by draw, i mean scribble on papers. "drawing" often calms his short temper.
— STRENGTHS: navigating through the world, listening for danger, describing noises, sassing someone
— weaknesses: opening up to people and sharing his feelings, making friends, explaining things, being nice in general, admitting his wrong, admitting when he needs help, actually fighting

INTERACTION: he's incredibly easy to fight due to his blindness, but incredibly difficult to trick. just because he's blind and can't see doesn't mean he can't hear or smell well. if you can actually manage to grab him long enough to fight him, then go ahead, but riley is a very tricky boy, and has been training to run from danger his entire life. if you do attack in, attack in BOLD POWDER BLUE

---

if i am needed, [b]send me the link to the thread by pming it to me on my main account, dannychan, as that is the first thing i check.

[roy v.]

[align=center]

ROY AVON VANTAS —

roy really couldn't say that he'd missed advay, but after getting yelled at, could you really blame him? the only reason he noticed advay's absence was because he was the master of...something? for fuck's sake, roy didn't know.

'sorry, we didn't throw you a welcome party.' is what he wanted to say but he wasn't in the mood to get yelled at...again. roy grunted in greeting, arching a thick eyebrow at advay, questioning in nature. [b]"are we allowed to take breaks off of work? wished i'd fuckin' known that." he cleared his throat but that'd do nothing to his raspy voice. "where the hell you've been?" the boy idly kicked at the ground, scuffing his converse. was advay secretly a spy or some shit? it would be could cool if it wasn't good in the long run.

[spoiler= ･ﾟ★ ☾ PITY THE PARIAH 9/10]GENERAL
★ roy avon vantas | asshole
★ male | he/him | amab
★ nineteen yrs old | created 8/20 | cancer
★ trainee of the northstar district

[b]MISC INFO
★ probably gives the nicest hugs smh
★ definitely touch-starved; he is a sucker for soft touches from those he trusts

[b]APPEARANCE
★ [b]physical health: 100% | mental health: 90%
★ whole description here
★ current injuries: none

PERSONALITY
★ [b]MBTI | trope | trope | trope
★ roy's personality truly has many different facets but the one that often shows is his intrinsically flawed, imperfect, and illogical teenager one. he gets angry very easily, for the littlest things that really shouldn't make you so furious. along with this, he's abrasive to the point where it often pushes the people he cares about away. but to the core, the short redhead's heart is gold and he truly does care for his friends and the well-being of people despite his unwillingness to show it; he is only that way due to his major insecurities rooted from a troublesome childhood.
★ independent, knowledgeable, caring, sincere
★ impulsive, outspoken, intense, stubborn
★ (very) loud, vulgar, cynical, abrasive, insecure
★ what's happening, currently, that's affecting his personality?

[b]RELATIONSHIPS
★ demiromantic bisexual | love is kinda an iffy thing for me; he cares easily but is afraid of being in a romantic relationship of any kind
★ single pringle, not interested | no crush | [ 0 ] potential crushes
★ pierre vantas x unnamed mother | generation 2
★ trusts: ??

[b]INTERACTION
★ medium, but tricky fighter | easy to attack emotionally | attack in bold underline
★ will not initiate fights (most of the time) | will fight back if attacked
★ ask to maim/capture/kill
★ peaceful/nonviolent actions can be powerplayed | violently flinches away from touches[/spoiler]

[Advay.]

[align=center][size=8pt]Advay glanced up at Praxis, not really knowing him. Must have showed up while he was gone. "A-and you se-seem nosy," he comment with just as much of a calm tone as Praxis had offered him. He turned towards Riley and shrugged at his comment. "Saw y-you at a me-meeting," he replied, staring down at his dogs for a little visual comfort. More people, great. He probably shouldn't have said anything and just went off on his own job like normal. "A-advay, Master of St-Stocks," he introduced in a mumble. Despite his stutter, he seemed rather calm, if not just unsure of his words. He had a hard time socializing with people; not anti-social, but rather asocial. His brain worked through all the things he thought he could say, and it went by so fast through bad options that trying to say what he wanted came out in a stutter; a buffer or perhaps like skipping to the correct track on a CD, each beginning of the previous song playing before cutting off.

He turned his eyes towards Roy, heaving a sigh. "I-I ge-get a brea-break be-because I've been here lo-l-longer than e-every-veryone but C-cecil and W-wolf. And I spent a-all that ti-ti-time working." He reached up to tug at his hood, hating the hostility coming off of Roy. Stupid kid. "F-flintlock."

[WOLF BITE]

[align=center]

"Advay- you've returned," A small, spark of emotion pushed through his words, emitting contentment with a friend of his returning. He arrived with steady, confident strides, save for a bit of a stutter from the pain that would occasionally shoot down his arm with every step. He would say that the pain was subsiding the more he properly tended to it, allowing it to heal. "How was your time in Flintlock?" he asked, casting a lingering glance toward Roy, eyebrow quirking up as he considering reprimanding the younger.

[div style="width: 500px; text-align: justify; font-family:; font-size: 9pt; line-height: 1.4;"][spoiler=I TRIED TO WRITE YOUR NAME IN THE RAIN / INFORMATION; UPDATED 09/12/2017]
GENERAL INFORMATION | I TASTE YOU ON MY TONGUE
‣ Demyan Volkov / Usually Introduced as "Wolfbite" / Cisgender Male / He/Him
  — IF YOU'RE ASSUMING YOUR CHARACTER LEARNED WOLF'S NAME OOCLY, PLEASE USE WOLFBITE.
  — Demyan is a personal name that he only really allows immediate family or close friends to use; Cecil. .
‣ 27 Years Old / March 1st / Kazimir x Nikky; Alive
‣ Demiromantic Gray-Asexual / 100% Monogamous / Very Possessive / Single.
‣ Overseer of Northstar District / Leader
‣ Main Character Tropes:
---

APPEARANCE | YOU ASK ME WHAT I'M THINKING ABOUT
‣ 6'6 & 193-235 lbs. | Muscular, toned. He's broad-shouldered and significantly athletic, little to no body fat anywhere on him.
‣ Silky, sandy beige hair that's messy, like major bedhead. It's shorter at the sides, but lingering on the top.
‣ Dark, chocolate brown eyes.
‣ A pale ivory, though a layer of darker skin blankets the fairness, causing small freckles—barley noticeable— to speckle in various places.
‣ Heavily scarred on his torso. Some can be seen on his face; he has a scar on his right cheek and a lengthy one running down his left eye.
‣ Wears casual clothes. Sweat pants, or jeans with a t-shirt.
‣ Wears a black necklace with blue crystals on the end.

INJURIES & HEALTH | I'LL TELL THAT I'M THINKING ABOUT
‣ Heavily bruised; a gunshot wound to his right shoulder, as well as a fresh cut on his cheek. In pain, and incredibly tired.

PERSONALITY | WHATEVER YOU'RE THINKING ABOUT
‣ Anti-Hero, Emotion Suppression, Undying Loyalty, Beneath the Mask.
‣ Stoic, calculating, blunt.
‣ Oddly gentle, particularly with kids or teenagers who have been through some sort of trauma.
‣ Somewhat playful with people he is comfortable with; will smile, seldom laugh.
‣ Methodical, firm, confident. Calculative and holds himself to a high regard.
‣ Surprisingly gentle with children.
‣ Very asocial, not the most approachable person. He won't hold a conversation well.

COMBAT | TELL ME SOMETHING I FORGET
‣ Strength: 9 / Perception: 10 / Endurance: 10 / Charisma: 3 / Intelligence: 9 / Agility: 6 / Luck: 2
‣ Strength, endurance, and agility are the result of training. Perception due to hypervigilance.
‣ Difficulty is determined by skill, with an opponent of the same size + life/combat experience.
‣ 90/100 Physical Defense / 80/100 Psychological Defense / 70/100 Short-Term Recovery
‣ Nonviolent actions may be powerplayed, as long as they cause physical discomfort at most

[SITRI—]

[align=center]

[table]

[Advay.]

[align=center][size=8pt]Advay glanced towards Wolfbite, immediately relaxing at the presense of someone he knew didn't hate his guts for doing his job. He held up one hand, giving a slight wave. "Y-yeah...uh, good. I-I found my, uh, my friends." He wasn't sure whether he would tell Wolf or not if he was going to leave again; well he knew he would be leaving again...but it wouldn't be fore a couple days like this time was, it'd be for a day at the most or...least. He didn't know, he would sort out his schedule and reform his job plans to still get things done and travel at the same time...that being said, he may need help with Argentina...He nodded and his eyes shifted towards Cecil. He offered the younger a slight smile. "Ar-a-are you f-feeling be-be-better?" He hoped so; the kid had been through a lot. Hopefully Wolf was doing fine with the note he'd given him. Advay was just glad to see the kid up and walking around still.

[Advay.]

[align=center][size=8pt]Advay was back, for now at least, out of worry that this place was going to hell without him. He'd told Moksha he would be gone and return periodically. Moksha had nearly broken his arm trying to get him to stay. Advay had nearly done as he asked; this was the first time he hadn't...it hurt. A lot actually. But he was back, his green eyes staring down at his feet. He would return to Moksha whenever he could, even if it meant he didn't sleep but an hour a day, so long as he could sleep with Moksha back in the Lodge. He would start training his pups to pull a sled again, perhaps he could get Argy to let him ride her; he could cut his travel time in half. Cut his work time in half.

All the same, he was back. His bag was lighter, and he lifted a hand to the two guard at the gates, moving through after a not-so thorough questioning about him. He was the Master of Stocks, after all. It wasn't hard to see that he'd been here before, or have known that he was here. Though Advay was quiet, his dogs charged forwards, energized from the trip to see old friends, while Advay wanted to get his work done so he could return once more. "M...m'b-back," he called half-heartedly, already feeling uncomfortable.

[ALLOY]

[align=center][div style="text-align: justify; width:500px;font-size:9.3pt; line-height:15px;"]
"Great. Welcome home," he commented dryly, because one, he had no idea who the hell this was, and two, he seemed...nice. Praxis didn't want that kindness directed his way for many reasons, and being an asshole to someone was the best way to curb their warmth elsewhere. Truth be told he was terrified that someone would lose their temper on him and wipe the floor with him, but he couldn't allow himself to be so ridiculous. He couldn't be scared; he had to be fearless, like nothing in the world bothered him, like he could take on anything without so much of a peep in his heartrate. He'd already failed there, pulse skipping faster, and his expression soured further. "You don't seem like you want to be here." It wasn't an expression of concern, but rather an unspoken,"why are you here if you don't want to be?" Maybe he shouldn't have said anything at all. Maybe he should have kept walking, because he shouldn't care about people coming back or their reasons for doing that.
[spoiler=I RAN SO FAR AWAY (INFO; 9/14)][size=8pt]GENERAL
-Praxis Terzi | Cisgender male, male pronouns | 18 years old | Born June 13
-Unknown sexuality | Single; not looking to grow close with anyone like that
-Resident of NorthStar District (for now; may choose to wander off later)

PHYSICALITY
-Shaggy, curly black hair; perpetually messy | Sharp, vivid green eyes; almond-rectangular shape
-Willowy and slender | Weighs in around 105 pounds, so he's a bit underweight, but not greatly
-Stands at 5'6 | Gains a few inches from the heels of his combat boots (5'8 while worn)
-Unblemished for the most part, but has faint scars all along the knuckles of both hands
-Tends to wear baggier clothing in layers, to seem both more muscular and larger than he is
-Owns a Smith & Wesson Model 642 kept in his pocket | Also owns a small combat knife

PERSONALITY
-Convinced he needs to be the "bad guy" to survive, so many traits are faked/forced
-Sharp-tongued and typically hostile | Keeps to himself and rarely socializes willingly
-More timid than he reveals | Self-serving, though with his own strain of sympathy
-Honestly just a mess with a shit-ton of guilt and confusion (with morality, especially)